Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

" I needed this," Benedict chuckled. He leaned back in his seat contentedly, taking a long puff of his cigar and glancing around the room with satisfied indifference.

"You must be delighted to have such an outing," Benedict continued, eyeing his friend amusedly. "A chance to get out of the house and out from under your wife's thumb."

"Watch yourself, Benedict," Samuel warned with a quirk of his eyebrow. "You speak so disparagingly of matrimony. I will not be surprised if you do not end up in a marriage as happy as mine. What a fine twist of fate that would be."

Laughing, Benedict shook his head. "You do not mean to say that you do not harbor some regrets about marriage? Surely the loss of your freedom still haunts you? No longer the roaming bachelor, free to do as he likes." Benedict put his hands behind his head as if to remind his friend that he still enjoyed such freedoms.

"Careful now, you are dangerously close to insulting my wife. And that, I will not tolerate."

Something in Samuel's tone told Benedict that his friend spoke the truth. Frowning slightly, Benedict leaned forward, searching the eyes of the man across from him.

Samuel had indeed changed since his wedding. Once, the Duke of Bancroft had been as free and untethered as he. Of the two of them, Benedict had been certain that Samuel would be the last to be married if either of them ever lost their minds and decided to take such a plunge.

"See, your problem was that you married for love," Benedict mused after a moment. "That makes it infinitely more difficult. That is when fidelity and other troublesome assurances come into play."

"Oh?"

"For myself," he continued, shrugging, "I do admit that it is time to consider matrimony." Benedict chuckled as Samuel's look of incredulity deepened. "But my own marriage will not infringe upon my freedom in the slightest."

"You will marry, then, for what? Duty only?"

"Precisely. As my mother is fond of reminding me," he sighed, his blasé demeanor faltering as he thought of her, "I will need an heir sooner or later. But when I see that my new wife is housed and provided for, she cannot complain if I decide to spend my… affections elsewhere from time to time."

Samuel regarded him for a long moment. Finally, with a chuckle and a shake of his head, he spoke. "I do not believe you."

"What? You do not think that I shall marry?"

"Oh, I do not doubt that you could entice a woman to marry you. You could seduce half the country in a fortnight if given the chance. And you probably have, at one time or another," he added with a renewed chuckle.

"Then what is it you doubt? My intentions?"

"Yes. And no." Samuel leaned forward. "I believe you are too good at heart to live up to the loveless marriage that you describe," he challenged.

Benedict scoffed.

Nodding, Samuel continued. "It is true. I do not think you could condemn a woman to such a fate with you. You could not treat her so heartlessly as you say."

"That, my friend, is where you are wrong." Benedict sat back, thinking. "I will ensure that my wife is well looked after, that much is certain. There are privileges to marrying a duke, even if he is a rake like me. But if you suggest that I could not enter into a marriage without finding my own feelings tied up in it, then you do not know me very well."

"You once thought that I would never be married - let alone find love - did you not? And then along came Nora."

"I thought that, perhaps, you would be duty-bound to wed eventually," Benedict admitted. "But I suppose your current situation is far different to what I had pictured for you."

It was true. There was no denying that Samuel was in love. One look at the man and anyone, whether they knew the duke or not, could tell that he was utterly and madly in love. And, from what Benedict could see, his wife felt the same way about her husband.

"I certainly had not imagined that you would become a father so soon," Benedict added.

At this, Samuel's expression changed. If he spoke of his marriage with joy, then he spoke of his child with something even deeper and more powerful. "Nor had I. But I would not trade it for the world. My son is far more precious to me than I could ever have imagined. I would do anything for Damien."

Seeing his friend speak with such vulnerability, Benedict's amusement was instantly dissolved. Indeed, his mirth faded and was replaced with a strange emptiness. One which he did not like in the slightest.

Glancing around, he spotted a beautiful woman nearby, seated across from an older man. A quick luncheon, no doubt. There were several other female guests in the gentlemen's club, but she was no doubt the most delicious. He eyed her with interest, trying to ascertain the nature of her relationship with her dining partner. Not that it mattered. He could have her, married or not.

"Do you really mean to take a wife?"

Turning around, Benedict found his friend regarding him with some concern. He spread his hands in a show of sincerity. "I have said so, have I not?"

Shaking his head, Samuel sighed. "You have. And since you seem set on it, for duty's sake, I suppose I should believe you. I don't expect you have anyone in mind, then, do you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Benedict let a sly smile creep across his features.

Samuel groaned playfully. "Oh dear, who is the poor unfortunate lady?"

"I believe you know her. Or, rather, your wife knows her." He paused, enjoying the momentary power he held. He tried to guess how his friend would react to the news. "Lady Selina, daughter of the Earl of Windham."

At this, Samuel's eyes went wide. Benedict's smile grew. "You do know her, then."

"I do. You and she were both at our wedding. She is an intimate friend of Nora's."

Samuel was still staring at him with astonishment, but Benedict casually pressed on. "Indeed, I believe it was at your wedding that we were first introduced. But I was reacquainted with her at the ball the other evening. She has only grown more beautiful in the time since I last saw her."

"She is a lovely lady, that is true," Samuel agreed, a small smirk twisting up the corner of his lip.

Benedict frowned. "What is it? Why do you look so sly?"

A low chuckle emanated from Samuel. "Ah, you are in danger, my friend. If you hope to avoid a marriage with any sort of attachment, you will not find it with Lady Selina."

"Indeed?"

"She is a passionate, open-hearted soul. And she certainly has the pick of the town, young and beautiful as she is. If anyone may entice you into falling for a woman, it would be she."

"Nonsense."

"And even if she could not, whyever would she agree to marry you if you could not offer her affection as well as wealth and security? If she may not find it with you, she shall certainly find it elsewhere."

"Be reasonable," Benedict retorted. It was his turn to chuckle. "You know as well as I that a duke cannot easily be passed over. We can offer a position and status that very few can. Besides," he added, letting his gaze drift back to the beautiful woman nearby, "very few can resist my charms. Who is to say that she will not be at least a little in love with me when I propose? I can put any doubts she may have about me to rest with ease. I have already begun to," he added with a grunt.

Samuel shook his head with a dry smile. "Now I must know what you mean by that."

"Lady Selina's sister is quite protective of her." Allowing himself a momentary indulgence, Benedict remembered the angry flush on Thalia's cheeks when he had cornered her in the park. "She is no doubt at this very moment counseling her sister to stay as far away from me as she can. But I know exactly how to deal with her. I shall win her over too, in a way," he mused proudly.

When he turned back to Samuel, he expected to see his amusement shared by his friend. But when he found nothing but concern etched on the fellow duke's features, Benedict frowned. "You do not think that I can do it?"

"I have no doubt you could. But…" Samuel paused. "The question must rather be, should you do it?"

Letting his mask drop a little, Benedict shook his head. "I speak truthfully when I say that any wife of mine shall be looked after. The duchess will want for nothing. And she shall soon find that she is better off not seeking love in a marriage." He shifted, turning away slightly. "I know, better than anyone, how badly that turns out," he added softly, unable to keep the jaded tone from his voice.

If Samuel heard this last quip, he did not remark upon it. "I do not distrust that you would treat Lady Selina well," he said after a moment. "But I must admit that I dislike how you speak of Lady Thalia."

This, Benedict had not expected. "What do you mean?"

Narrowing his eyes, Samuel fixed Benedict in a knowing glare. "Your methods of getting what you want from women have always worked for you in the past. But I warn you, do not involve Lady Thalia in this business if you intend to make her sister your duchess."

"You know me well," chuckled Benedict. "But what harm can there be in winning Lady Thalia over to my side? She will not allow a marriage to her sister if she has no predilection toward me."

"It is how you win her over, Benedict, which worries me."

Benedict knew exactly what his friend referred to. He had already whispered such things to Lady Thalia himself. "She is a spinster. Is it not a kindness to give her a taste of something she has never before had?"

Remembering how Thalia quivered when he pulled her to him, Benedict knew that she was as inexperienced in passion as one could possibly be. The memory brought a smile to his face.

Samuel sighed. "Can you not win her over as any ordinary man would? With manners and good grace?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, she seems to hate me."

Taking a sip of his drink, Samuel shook his head. "I doubt that. I do not think it is possible for a woman to hate you. You may be a rake, but you're an impossibly charming one."

"That is the thing." Benedict sat forward again, waving a hand as he continued. "She is the first to not be immediately won over by me. The mothers of the ton might know to keep their daughters away from me, but even they are happy to spare me a moment of harmless flirtation. But Lady Thalia…"

Searching for the right words, Benedict brought his cigar back to his lips. "She looks at me as if she would set me on fire if she could." He grinned. He could not help it.

Samuel nodded slowly. Knowingly. But not approvingly. "She is a challenge," he guessed.

"Indeed." A challenge unlike any Benedict had ever had.

Throwing up his hands, Samuel almost spilled his drink. "For heaven's sake, Benedict, she is Lady Selina's sister. You may have your fun, but if you wish to wed, you shall have to abide by some sense of decency."

"And I shall," Benedict assured his friend. "Once I have convinced Lady Thalia to let me court her sister. But until then…"

The beautiful woman behind them stood, taking the arm of her dining partner. "Until then," Benedict continued watching her go, "I will show her that she is not the tower of strength she thinks she is. I will watch her crumble," he mused, turning to take up his drink. Lifting it into the air, he grinned. "And she will thank me for it."

"Eliza, you're hurting me."

Thalia's maid blinked, coming back down to earth from whatever cloud she had been floating on. When she glanced down and saw Thalia's hair gripped tightly in her fist, she jumped. "Oh, I beg your pardon, my lady!"

"It is quite all right," Thalia replied, slightly amused at her maid's behavior. She had never seen Eliza like this. "No lasting damage is done," she assured her.

"I don't know what got into me," the young woman murmured, taking up the brush and gently setting back to the task of arranging Thalia's hair atop her head.

Watching her in the mirror, Thalia frowned. "Nor do I. Is something wrong?"

As a gentle pink colored her maid's nose, Thalia hesitated. She waited for Eliza to explain though, perhaps, it was none of her business.

Eliza opened her mouth, then closed it. Shaking her head, she offered Thalia a small smile. "It is nothing, my lady."

"If there is anything I can do…"

"You are too kind. I am perfectly fine, my lady. I promise."

Curious, but too polite to press, Thalia sat back and watched as Eliza finished her hair. The young woman was a quiet, kind soul. If something was upsetting her, Thalia wanted to help, however she could. But if her maid did not wish to share with Thalia what was plaguing her, then that was her decision.

Her further concern for Eliza was interrupted as Selina slipped into the room.

The look on her sister's face told Thalia that Selina had not yet forgiven her for their argument the other day. Selina took one look at Thalia and groaned. "You are not yet ready?"

"I have had matters to attend to," Thalia replied calmly. "I needed to update the ledgers first, and then the matter of poaching at the edge of our estate needed to be attended to, and then, of course –"

Selina cut her off with a hand. "Really?" Her obvious anger at her sister warred with a hint of admiration. "You have done all that just today?"

With a small chuckle, Thalia nodded. Though the sisters had butted heads often over the last few weeks, here, finally, was a glimpse of what made Thalia love her sister more dearly than any other person in existence.

No matter how hard Thalia worked to care for Selina and their father, no matter the weight of her responsibilities, Selina was always ready with the praise and admiration that made all of Thalia's efforts seem worth it. Whether or not Selina fully understood what her older sister did for her, she never failed to show her gratitude for her sister's love and care.

Well, apart from the matter of finding Selina a husband. It was clear that Selina did not appreciate the help that Thalia offered on the matter. And, if Thalia was being honest with herself, she had never seen her sister so angry with her as she had been the other day.

But she told herself that, in the end, Selina would see the merit in the seriousness with which Thalia treated the situation.

At least, Thalia hoped she would.

"If I am to be kept waiting," Selina sighed, shaking her head, "then I might as well amuse myself. Let me pick out your dress while Eliza finishes your hair. Perhaps you should wear one of mine," she added, with a glint of mischievousness in her eyes that Thalia did not at all like.

As Selina sauntered away, Thalia shifted to call after her. "Something appropriate, please, Selina. I know you love your beautiful gowns, but they have never suited me. Something modest and simple will do just fine."

Glancing back into the mirror, Thalia and Eliza shared a quiet giggle. Eliza had lived in the manor long enough to know what Selina was like. "Are you looking forward to your outing?" Eliza asked.

"I am. It has been far too long since we have been to the theater. It has always been one of my favorite ways to spend an evening," she added thoughtfully.

"Why is that, my lady?"

Thalia was about to tell her maid the truth: that it was because, in contrast to the social spectacle of balls and dinners, the theater was the only place where Thalia was not on display for others. There, she was not a subject of pitying gossip, but instead a keen observer of a story utterly different from her own.

But, before she could reply, Selina returned. It was probably for the best, Thalia mused. No one needed to know that Thalia's spinsterhood still embarrassed her. Nor did they need to know how, every once in a while, the thought of spending the rest of her life alone nearly brought her to her knees. No. That was her burden to bear. A desire she had sacrificed in the face of familial responsibility.

Besides, if anyone knew how she felt, they would have all the more cause to pity her. And Thalia could not bear that thought.

"If you insist on dressing like an old widow, then I suppose you shall have to wear this," Selina grumbled, pulling Thalia from her thoughts.

Thalia looked up and nodded in relief, ignoring her sister's obvious jab. Selina held up one of Thalia's gowns. A modest garment of tasteful but muted brown. She had half expected her sister to punish her by trying to force her into one of Selina's elaborate, revealing dresses. "Yes. That will do just fine. Thank you."

The sisters finished readying themselves and then, with a quick word of thanks to Eliza, they went downstairs to find their father.

As usual, Jerome was seated in the drawing room, book in hand. At their approach, he glanced up. "Ah, my lovely daughters. You look beautiful as always."

"And you look handsome as always," Selina smiled, crossing to help the man to his feet.

"The carriage should be waiting outside," Thalia informed him. "I've asked Mr. Poulter to prepare it. The footmen will have brought it around by now."

"Splendid." Jerome held out his arm for Selina to take. "Shall we?"

Together, the family made their way outside and, with a little help from Thomas, the youngest footman, Jerome was up into his seat and waving for his daughters to join him.

The ride to the theater was long enough to allow Thalia a brief moment of quiet reflection as her sister and father chatted away. Probably about his new colt.

Though she enjoyed the theater, Thalia would have to focus on more important things tonight besides the show. Selina's position was still precarious and here was another opportunity to present her sister to the ton as a beautiful, eligible woman, suitable and ready for marriage.

"Father," she asked, "when will Lord Mayten be arriving tonight?"

Jerome blinked, confused. "I do not know. Why do you ask? Has he told you that he will attend?"

Thalia's heart sank. "I asked you to invite him to join us," she reminded him gently. "He has taken great interest in Selina. I thought that tonight would be the perfect occasion for him to spend some more time with her."

As Jerome shrugged helplessly, Thalia tried not to grimace. She had asked one thing of her father. One thing. And he had forgotten.

When she turned to look at Selina, Thalia found her sister glaring back at her. Wonderful, she thought to herself, she has decided to be angry with me again.

"Thalia, really, why must you insist on making me socialize with men like Lord Mayten? Though I know you do not care what I think on the matter, he is not a good match for me. Nor I for him."

Opening her mouth to remind her sister that she could not know such a thing until she had truly gotten to know the man, Thalia thought better of it. She did not want to argue with her sister tonight.

Thankfully, as she fell silent, Selina and Jerome went back to their original conversation, and the rest of the journey passed by quickly.

Before she knew it, Thalia was climbing the steps to the theater, trailing just behind her family. The rumble of the crowd of theatergoers washed over Thalia as they stepped inside.

Almost instantly, Jerome raised a hand and called out a fond greeting as he spotted a friend. He hurried over, leaving his daughters to watch after him.

Instinctually, Thalia stepped closer to her sister. Once again, it was down to her to ensure that Selina was properly chaperoned. "Oh, no," whispered Selina, turning so she could murmur discreetly into her sister's ear. "There is Lord Grifton. Please, Thalia, do not make me speak with him."

Thalia scanned the crowd, eventually picking out the man in question. She sighed. "Very well. I will not. But you will have to entertain someone's courtship sooner or later, Selina."

"Thank you," her sister breathed. Then, Thalia felt Selina shift a little at her side. When she next spoke, her tone was different. Excited. "Actually, I think you might be right."

Thalia blinked, taken aback by both her sister's words and tone. Then, she realized that Selina was staring pointedly behind them.

Turning, Thalia spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man making his way straight for them. There was no mistaking who it was.

Despairing, all Thalia could do was watch as the newcomer came to a halt before them.

"Lady Selina. Lady Thalia. Good evening."

Selina beamed up at him. "Good evening, Your Grace."