Chapter Fourteen

Alexander took a deep swig of his wine, emptying the glass. He set it down, glancing over at the footman to indicate that he wanted it refilled.

He was playing billiards with a handful of other gentlemen, and so far, the game was not going his way. Perhaps the shake in his hands was because of that, not because of… of anything else.

He didn’t want to think that his tightening chest and pounding heart had anything to do with the wine.

Or worse, Abigail.

He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. Her new dress was beautiful, giving her an ethereal look. She’d looked so bored next to Graham, and he’d longed to rush over and rescue her, somehow or other. He’d been the first gentleman back in the drawing room, and his heart had plummeted when he saw she wasn’t there. Lady Caldecott was staring daggers at him, so he didn’t dare ask her where her niece was, but somebody else said something about a megrim and an early night.

There didn’t seem much point staying after that, and now here he was in the billiards room.

Losing.

He drew in a deep breath, trying to dispel the image of Abigail Atwater glancing at him across the table, eyes creased with amusement, and took his shot.

Crack . Billiard balls bounced ungracefully across the table.

“You missed, old boy,” one of the men commented. “Bad luck.”

Alexander smiled tightly, straightening up.

One of the men was Graham Donovan, of course. He was playing well, and had joined at the last minute, doubtless so that Alexander couldn’t cry off. Every time Alexander looked around, he found the man’s eyes on him, seething with dislike.

He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to him if he lost the money wagered on this wretched game and picked up his refilled wine glass. Had he really intended to stop? What nonsense. There was nothing wrong with a little wine now and then. Or a whisper of whiskey. Brandy was practically a dessert.

He took a few large mouthfuls, gulping it down like water, and stepped back to let the next gentleman take his turn.

And then William appeared in the doorway, face set in a thin line, expression grim.

“Gentlemen,” he announced, “would you give my brother and me a moment alone?”

Anywhere else, there would have been murmurs of complaint at having to abandon the game, or even outright refusals.

Not in the Duke of Dunleigh’s house. Nobody was quite ready to challenge William’s authority yet. There were a few bitten-off sighs, a few meaningful looks exchanged, but that was all. They all filed out, leaving Alexander alone with his brother.

William shut the door with his heel.

“What have I done now, then?” Alexander sighed, snatching up his wine and perching on the edge of the billiards table.

“Besides drinking too much?” William snapped. “That’s your third glass.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“I’m not here to argue. Lady Caldecott is extremely concerned about something and confided in me today. She’s an honoured guest of our mother’s, and a personal friend of mine. And of yours , too.”

Alexander clenched his jaw. He had a feeling he knew what this was about, and it was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

William looked ready for battle. He had a way of drawing himself up when he was ready to have a serious conversation with somebody. His mouth was tight the way it did when he disapproved of something, and tension rolled off his shoulders like steam. Alexander braced himself.

“Do tell me, then,” he said at last. “Get it over with.”

William let out a long sigh. “You’ve been flirting with Miss Atwater.”

“I have not. Believe me, William, I have not tried to flirt with the girl. It would be disrespectful and unkind. I’ve just… just treated her in a friendly manner.”

William crossed the room in a flash, standing almost nose to nose with his brother.

“Don’t be such an abysmal fool. You know fine well what the rules are between unmarried ladies and gentlemen. You cannot simply be friendly with a young woman like Miss Atwater.”

“She is hardly a pale and insipid miss, nor a frivolous debutante eager to succumb to the affections of the first gentleman who casts his gaze upon her,” Alexander snapped back, getting angry despite himself.

“No, but she is here to look for a husband. Lady Caldecott made that clear. She also told me a few things about Miss Atwater’s background. Did you know that she’s a middle child, the second daughter of three, with no fortune and not much breeding to speak of? She’s neglected by her mother, bullied by her younger sister, and entirely kept away from Society and any opportunity she might have. Her aunt’s intervention might be the only opportunity she will have to make a good marriage and get herself a family and an establishment. I will not have you and your rakish ways getting in the way of Miss Atwater’s prospects, and neither will Lady Caldecott.”

Alexander bit hard on his lower lip, tasting copper. “Not every young woman wants a family and an establishment. Not everybody is as fixated on marriage as our family has had to be, William.”

“No, that is true, but I have it on good authority that Miss Atwater does wish to marry. Lady Caldecott has made it clear that she does not approve of you as a suitor, and I reassured her that you would not be serious. However, you must see how cruel it is to make Miss Atwater believe you are serious when you are not. It would distract her from other prospects.”

Before Alexander could say something to defend himself – he wasn’t sure what he would say, only that he had to say something – William reached out, laying his hands awkwardly on his shoulders. It was odd to receive a touch like that from his older brother, and Alexander flinched, momentarily distracted.

“You’re not unkind, Alex,” William said, more gently. “I know that, and Lady Caldecott knows it. But you must leave Miss Atwater alone. I saw how you kept looking at her across the table at dinner tonight.”

“I haven’t flirted with her, Will. Truly.”

William sighed. “I’m sure you mean that. I’m sure you didn’t consider it flirting. But as I said before, young ladies looking for husbands must be treated differently. I must insist on you keeping your distance from Miss Atwater from now on. It’s for the best, and everybody wants it.”

Alexander swallowed hard. “I’m not the man you think I am, William. You think I’m a fool, a stupid, flirtatious, cruel rake, somebody who enjoys making others squirm.”

“I think you are careless,” William said firmly. “You are not cruel, and although you make stupid choices more often than I can recall, you are not stupid . I assured Lady Caldecott that I would talk to you about this, and I have. I can’t control you, Alex, but I do expect you to try.”

Alexander nodded tightly, not trusting himself to speak. When William removed his hands from his shoulders, he picked up his wine glass again and drained it. The footman had gone, wretched fellow, and taken the decanter of wine with him. He glanced at the door, noticing that it was ajar. Odd, considering that William had slammed it shut with his heel when he came in.

“Think on what I’ve said,” William said firmly, and left without another word.

For a few moments, Alexander stood alone in the billiards room, the forgotten billiard balls casting shadows over the green baize, the ghosts of a game.

Then the door creaked open.

“I couldn’t help overhearing,” Graham commented languidly, still twirling his billiard cue in his fingers. “Got your knuckles rapped, didn’t you? I can’t say I’m sympathetic. That’s what happens when you bother defending sensible, genteel ladies.”

The hairs on the back of Alexander’s neck rose. “Do you mean to tell me you were eavesdropping on our private conversation? A private conversation between myself and my brother, the Duke of Dunleigh and your host?”

Graham sighed. “ Eavesdropping . Such a dramatic word. I just happened to be standing in the hallway outside. You were both rather loud, and the door was open.”

“No, it was not. It was closed.”

“Well, you’ve already imbibed a good deal of wine tonight, so perhaps your perception is not what it should be.”

Alexander tightened his jaw. “What do you want, Graham?”

The man took a moment before replying, pursing his lips. Abruptly, he leveled his cue at the billiards table, and made a neat shot. The echoing clack-clack-clack of the balls bouncing against each other filled the room. He potted several.

“Flirting is not an enjoyable amusement for me,” he said at last. “My intentions towards Miss Atwater are sincere.”

Something like dread coiled in the pit of Alexander’s stomach. He felt sick, and his chest seemed to be tightening with every breath. He began to worry that he might actually be sick, and plotted several contingency plans in case the nausea came unexpectedly.

The best option, he surmised, would be to throw open the window behind him and vomit out of it.

Undignified, but better than ruining the billiards table.

“Why are you telling me this?” he demanded frostily.

Graham grinned, and Alexander realized that his reaction was exactly what was expected.

“Lady Caldecott likes me,” Graham said, ducking his head modestly. “She approves of me as a suitor for her niece. Without Lady Caldecott’s blessing, I doubt any suitor would get far with Miss Atwater. She does so adore her aunt. And, as I heard his Grace mention, once this little trip is over, Miss Atwater is going home. Her opportunity will be over. No doubt Lady Caldecott asked the esteemed Dowager – such a friend of hers, of course – to invite a few eligible gentlemen, to give her niece a chance, but if she lets this opportunity slip away…” Graham trailed off meaningfully, giving a delicate sigh. “I’m afraid it’ll be ignominy, spinsterhood, and obscurity for our poor Miss Atwater. She deserves better, don’t you think?”

He shuffled closer, eyeing the billiards table as if planning another shot.

“We’ve had our differences, you and me, Alexander,” Graham continued, voice changing. “But if you care for Miss Atwater at all, my advice would be to back away. Perhaps you are truly fond of her. I’m sure you’re capable of it, deep down. But you’re a rake, and a drunk, the sort of man no woman wants to marry. Leave her be, can’t you?”

Alexander found his voice. “A rake and a drunk, am I?” he managed at last. “Some men would demand satisfaction for such an insult.”

Graham sighed, rolling his eyes. “First of all, I doubt your brothers and your esteemed sister would let you fight a duel. Secondly, I am fairly sure I could beat you in a duel, if it came to it. Thirdly – and I think that perhaps this is the most important point – nothing I have said is a lie. It is not slander. It’s just the truth.”

“I am not a drunkard,” Alexander insisted. As he spoke, however, he felt his grip on reality weaken, just a little. Wine had a way of blurring the world at its edges, in a light, pleasant way, nothing like the hard-hitting effects of whiskey or brandy. Even so, he was aware that his voice was not as crisp as it should be, and his hands shook just a little too much.

Graham eyed him for a long moment, and Alexander saw disgust written clear in his eyes.

For the first time, he felt as though he deserved it.

“Just leave her alone, won’t you?” Graham said, after a pause. “Leave her alone, and I won’t tell the world that you and your siblings are penniless until you marry.”

Alexander couldn’t help it. He sucked in a deep, shocked breath, and Graham smiled mirthlessly.

“I did eavesdrop just now, by the way, but when I heard your dear friend Lord Grey talk about your father’s will, it was loud enough that anyone could have overheard. You should talk to him about keeping his mouth shut. Good day to you.”

Dropping the billiard cue on the table, Graham walked out without another word, leaving Alexander reeling and breathless.

What have I done?

Oh, Hamish, what have you done?