Chapter Five

“The dark green, I think,” Henry said firmly. His new valet’s hand hovered hesitantly over a fabulous blue-and-pink waistcoat, which was naturally a present from Alexander, commissioned from some tailor or other.

“Are you sure, your lordship?” the valet asked dubiously. “The blue-and-pink would suit your lordship’s colouring perfectly.”

Henry eyed his own reflection sourly. The tan he’d gotten in France hadn’t quite faded, and he didn’t intend to lose his newfound Parisian tastes by wearing one of Alexander’s weird creations. He’d chosen a deep brown suit, properly informal for a dinner with his family, and the green would be fine for his purposes.

“The green, please,” he said sternly, and the valet sighed.

“Very well, your lordship.”

The valet in question was a fair-haired dandy of a young man by the name of Edward, hired by William, who was insistent that his younger brother should present himself properly in Society. Henry didn’t particularly enjoy sharing his already cramped bachelor’s apartments with a servant, but he did enjoy having his breakfast served to him and his clothes pressed on his behalf, so that was that.

Mostly, the clothes he wore were the ones left at home when he’d gone off on his travels. If William had been surprised to learn that Henry intended to move out, he’d been careful not to show it.

Having his own apartments wasn’t the joyful freedom Henry had expected, not like when he lived on his own abroad.

Not for much longer, he reminded himself. If he could partner with Charles Fairfax in the porcelain business, then he might soon become a self-made man, with no need to hang upon his dead father’s ridiculous will.

“That will do, thank you, Edward,” he said shortly, forestalling more fiddling with his cravat. Edward looked disappointed .

“Would his lordship not prefer a more complex cravat style? I can do the newest waterfall style, or even… I have magazines, if you’d like to see.”

“No, thank you. A simple knot is more than enough.”

Edward looked as though Henry had just casually blasphemed.

“As you wish, your lordship,” he said, sighing deeply. “Will there be anything else?”

“I don’t think so, no. I’ll be staying at my family home tonight. Good night, Edward.”

The valet took the hint, melting away.

Henry’s apartments were fairly basic. He was not going to be hosting any balls here anytime soon. The largest room was the main one, with a large fireplace and a couple of armchairs, and a dining table pushed into the corner. His room was a small square, the bed taken from his childhood room. There was a kitchen and scullery, of course, and a small servants’ room where Edward slept.

A far cry from the home he’d grown up in, but this one had something that his old home did not.

Freedom.

Henry heard the rattle of carriage wheels on the cobbles outside. William had sent the carriage for him, then. Henry suppressed a sigh.

Now he can complain about my being late.

He took his time, tweaking the already satisfactory cravat into place.

As it had been doing all day, Henry’s mind went back to his meeting with Mr Fairfax. The meeting had gone as well as could be expected, and the man was certainly keen to finalize their agreement.

Miss Fairfax, however, was certainly not.

Henry bit his lip. There had been something almost defensive in the way the woman lashed out at him. He felt almost sorry for her, especially when her father snapped at her. And there was no denying that the woman had a keen business acumen, and that was a rare thing to find in men or women these days.

Edward came shuffling back into the dressing room, blinking owlishly.

“There’s a carriage downstairs for you, your lordship. ”

“Yes, yes,” Henry snapped. “I’m coming, I’m coming .”

***

Dinner was, unsurprisingly, a sober affair. Katherine was married to Timothy, her writer husband, and she had her inheritance, but the rest of them weren’t so lucky. The paltry amount of money William got from the estate was funneled right back in again, paying off taxes and doing repairs and paying wages.

It wasn’t that there wasn’t enough food, not by any stretch of the imagination, but they ate just about everything that was there, and there weren’t unnecessary courses. Their mother did not join them, and they were all secretly relieved at that.

It was Katherine who broke the inevitable silence.

“So,” she said at last, “which of you boys have ladies to court yet?”

Timothy choked on his soup and shot his wife a warning look.

Henry liked Timothy – he was quiet and genteel and wrote novels for a living. Henry always admired other gentlemen who did something for a living, and Timothy was, like him, a second son.

Katherine glanced around, scowling at her brothers. “Really? None of you? Are we really going to see three-quarters of our family inheritance disappear?”

William sighed. “You married for love, Kat, and we don’t all have that privilege.”

There was more tense silence after that. Alexander cleared his throat, a sure sign that he was about to make some stupid joke to try and ease the tension.

“I’m afraid none of us have beaus, Kat, not unless you count the mysterious locket William keeps on his desk.”

They all glanced at William, who flushed angrily and shot an annoyed look at his brother.

“What locket, then?” Katherine pressed.

“It’s nothing, just a silver locket belonging to a woman I met at a party.”

“And you’re holding onto it because…?” Alexander pressed.

William rolled his eyes. “Because it has a photo of a young boy in it. Her son or little brother, I shouldn’t wonder. I got the impression it was precious, and the clasp broke, so I assume she would like it back. When I find her, I shall give it back to her.”

“What’s her name?” Henry asked and earned himself a furious look for his troubles.

“If I knew her name,” William said, with barely disguised impatience, “I wouldn’t have to search for her, would I? Truly, I can’t understand why we’re even discussing this.”

“Can I see it?” Katherine piped up.

“No, you can’t. It’s private. For heaven’s sake, let’s change the subject.”

Naturally, this opened up a long tableau of silence.

“There’s no point pretending that it isn’t happening,” Alexander said quietly, once the silence got to be too much. “I have done my best to ignore it all, but there’s no point.”

“Try harder, then,” Henry said acidly, and that just about killed conversation until the dessert course.

***

After the meal, Katherine and Timothy retreated to the drawing room, ostensibly to make uncomfortable conversation with their mother. William disappeared, probably to hover over that wretched locket like a man possessed, and that left Henry and Alexander to do what they wanted.

They decided to play a game of billiards.

“How’s Mother doing, then?” Henry asked eventually.

“Didn’t you see her when you came back? Although, of course, you moved out the day after, so I daresay you didn’t have time to discuss anything important.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Of course I saw her and spoke to her. She looks dreadfully thin.”

Alexander shrugged. “Without Father, she’s like an unmoored boat, drifting along with the current. She’s not happy that we aren’t mourning him and calling this disgrace of a will an opportunity . She’s still offended that we had the gall to be upset about being forced into marriage or lose our money.”

“I will never understand that woman. ”

“Steady on,” Alexander remarked, eyeing Henry as he prepared to take his shot. “That’s still our mother you’re talking about.”

There was a little more silence after that, broken only by the gentle clinking of billiard balls. Henry hated competitive games of any kind, starting with his dreadful school that had taken entirely too serious an approach to cricket. However, it was nice to play a relaxed game with one of his brothers every now and then.

Since William never bothered with sports, it would have to be Alexander.

Alexander neatly potted a ball, and straightened up with a grin.

“Your turn.”

He snatched up a glass of wine, draining it at once. The smile faded from Henry’s face. How many glasses of wine had his brother had? Too many, and there had already been brandy on his breath even before dinner.

Henry eyed him closely, chewing his lower lip. Alexander was plumper than when Henry had left, but not in a healthy way. He was pallid, pale under his olive skin, which was worryingly waxy, and there were dark circles around his eyes. His hazel eyes, more green to Henry’s brown, were bloodshot. He needed a haircut, and his clothes didn’t sit right on his frame.

“What are you staring at?” Alexander asked eventually, shooting him a curious glance. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Henry responded, recovering himself. “So, without Katherine’s beady eye upon us, we should talk about… about the business, you know.”

There was no need to explain what the business meant. It meant their deadline, their ultimatum, the thing all three of the Willenshire boys could not go an hour without thinking.

Their inheritance, and what they would have to do to get it.

“We all expected you to come back with some Parisian woman who didn’t speak a word of English,” Alexander commented, refilling his glass of wine.

“And I expected you to have half a dozen eligible Society beauties on your arm. You’ve always been the charming one.”

It was a clumsy compliment – Henry was not used to paying them – but Alexander smiled anyway .

“I suppose it does work to our advantage that this whole business is a secret,” he commented. “Nobody knows that we’re penniless unless we marry.”

“I don’t intend to be penniless. I’m starting on a new business venture – the porcelain business.”

Henry wasn’t sure what he’d expected from his brother at this news, but he certainly hadn’t expected a long sigh.

“Oh, Henry.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean that you cannot possibly have the money to invest in a new venture.”

“It’s hardly a new venture. It’s an established business – Fairfax Porcelain, for your information.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” Alexander muttered to himself.

“Well, no, you wouldn’t have. The owner is getting old, he has no sons, and it sounds like his daughter is keeping it all afloat.”

Alexander snorted. “I’m sure she values your input, then.”

“She certainly does not. But we’re getting away from the point.”

“Which is?”

“Which is that I may not need to marry at all to get my money.”

“Or,” Alexander said heavily, “you’ll try scheme after scheme until the deadline elapses, then spend your life sponging off the rest of us who are married.”

This comment stung, but Henry reminded himself that Alexander was almost certainly drunk, and therefore in an unfortunate state of honesty. He contented himself with an eyeroll, taking the next shot. He missed the ball, and so his turn was over. It was hard not to blame Alexander for the missed shot. His wretched brother was distracting him, as always, slurping his wine too loudly and pouring yet more into the glass with an infuriating slop-slop-slop , spilling ruby drops over the side of the glass. It was fair to assume that he would not be cleaning up those wine stains.

“You are incredibly annoying, brother,” he muttered. “Can I assume that you intend to marry?”

Alexander was quiet for a long moment .

“Yes,” he said at last. “I… I know you all joke about me being charming with the ladies, but it’s truly not that simple. I want a connection, brother.”

Henry bit his lip. “Perhaps we shouldn’t tease you so much.”

“It’s alright. I just… I haven’t met anyone who really intrigues me. And now that it matters, now that I want to find somebody, it seems that I can’t manage it. I’m always saying the wrong thing. I’ve offended no less than four ladies this Season, and at the last ball I went to, I trod on somebody’s hem and tore it. She and her mother haven’t forgiven me.”

“Well, for the next ball – Mrs Florence Everett’s birthday ball, is that right? – may I suggest you don’t dance?”

It was meant to be a joke, but Henry had never been good at jokes, and Alexander did not smile.

“A man who wishes to court must dance,” Alexander muttered. “I’m not William. I’m not a duke – he’s got that going for him, even if he were the rudest man in the world. None of us are bad looking, but I’m certainly bottom of the pile.”

Henry flinched. “What are you talking about?”

The Willenshire siblings famously resembled each other. They all had fine chestnut locks, shot through with gold and brown and red, with large hazel eyes which could almost change colour depending on the light and their mood, and they had rich olive skin too.

Alexander smiled tiredly at his brother. “I’m getting plump, Henry.”

“Plenty of women appreciate a plump man,” Henry said firmly.

“If you say so. But I have no money, and I have a reputation for drinking too much, gambling, and flirting when I should not. What woman is going to risk everything for that? For a third son ?”

“You are not being fair to yourself.”

“On the contrary, I think I’m being rather generous.” Alexander sighed, draining his wine glass once again. How many had he drunk? Henry didn’t dare wonder about that. “I was thinking,” Alexander continued, slowly and almost about painfully, “About writing to her.”

Slow on the uptake, Henry blinked. “What are you talking about? ”

“I’m talking about Lady Diana Lockwell,” Alexander said heavily, not meeting his brother’s eye.

Henry dropped his billiard cue. “Are you mad, Alex?”

“Not at all. Just desperate.”

“I can’t allow you to entangle yourself with that woman. Again . I simply won’t stand by and let it happen! Alexander, look at me, you wretch.”

“I loved her once,” Alexander insisted, turning away. “And… and she was very fond of me.”

Panic bloomed in Henry’s chest. He crossed the room, angling himself so that Alexander had to look at him. His brother tried to look away, and Henry grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Lady Diana Lockwell – although of course she was Miss Diana Rubeshall then, do you recall? – nearly drove you to madness. I dread to think of what you might have done if we hadn’t watched you.”

“It wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t sprung the engagement on me like that,” Alexander argued. “Reading about it in the Gazette like I did… well, it was awful. I thought she loved me. I was young and stupid, and she was…”

“She was evil.”

“Oh, come on, Henry. Evil ? Really?”

Alexander shook his shoulders out of his brother’s grip, moving to take the next shot.

Henry’s heart was thudding, and he felt sick. Lady Lockwell – who had been Miss Rubeshall, and not even the first Miss Rubeshall – was a tall, blonde woman, not exactly beautiful in the way that Society preferred, but striking, nonetheless. She was charming, forthright, and remarkably clever, and was considered likely to do well in her first Season.

Alexander had been smitten. They all assumed that he, in his longing for love and family, would marry first out of them all. Being a third son, the old Duke seemed content enough to let his son go for a Rubeshall dowry, which was not inconsiderable.

Alexander had pursued her, and she’d coquetted and led him on. They’d danced together again and again at balls, sometimes even a shocking three or four dances an evening, at some of the more informal gatherings. The match had seemed a surety .

And then Miss Rubeshall’s engagement to Lord Lockwell was announced in the Gazette .

Alexander reeled, as did the fashionable world. But what was merely a subject for idle chatter a few gossip columns almost spelled the end of the world for Henry’s little brother.

He remembered Alexander curled up in bed, sobbing as if his heart would break.

“ Why would she do this to me, Henry? I thought she loved me. She said that she did.”

Henry would happily have gouged out lovely Diana’s heart with his own bare hands. He had it on good authority that Katherine had accidentally-on-purpose spilled wine on one of the girl’s frocks and cut her stone dead at Almack’s.

But that was the limit of their revenge. Miss Rubeshall became Lady Lockwell, and Alexander’s broken heart was gradually pieced together.

The woman was widowed now, and had been after only two years of marriage, and Henry would be damned if he would see her get her hooks into him again.

“Not her,” he said firmly. “You must see that, Alexander.”

Alexander sighed. “Very well, very well. What about you? Do you have anyone in mind? Anyone caught your eye at all?”

To his horror, Henry immediately thought of Eleanor Fairfax. Pretty, clever Eleanor Fairfax, who did not like him and did not want him meddling in her business – secular or otherwise.

“No,” he lied smoothly. It was easier that way. He’d talk to Alexander about it when the poor man didn’t have his head stuffed full of lonely fears and Lady Diana Lockwell. “No one at all, I’m afraid.”