Chapter 3

Chapter 3

What bothersome news.

Weston leaned back in his worn leather armchair, staring at the opened letter sitting on his desk. Inheriting an estate always came with trouble. He could recall meeting the earl once or twice, but it was not as if they were friendly. He could not remember a single meaningful conversation that he had had with the man.

It was sad that he had passed at such a young age. It just was not how he wished to spend his summer months. There were a great many plans that he had for the warmer weather and none of those things were going to be possible if he was in the middle of the countryside, puttering about an estate that was not going to want him there.

The earl was a widower, and had at least one daughter with his late wife. Though, he seemed to remember seeing something about him remarrying and perhaps a birth announcement of a second child. Though, he was not certain how long ago that was or what their names were. All he knew was that the older daughter was now marked to be his ward.

Weston tapped the edge of his quill against his lips as he debated ignoring the letter as if he had never received it. Of course, such a thing was not even going to be fully possible, but it was sorely tempting. Though, the inheritance listed in the documents was sizeable, even to him. His dukedom was nothing to turn one’s nose up at by any stretch of the imagination. But the earl must have taken great care in his estate to have grown his fortune as much as he had.

With a long-suffering sigh, Weston leaned forward and penned a reply that he would set out for Northern England post haste, and summoned his butler to send the letter out at first light. With any luck, it would arrive at the estate decently before him. It was going to take some time to sort through all the documents and books to ensure that everything was in order.

Then, he would be faced with the choice of what to do with the estate as well as its inhabitants. Such things were expected of a duke, of course. But at times like this, the weight of his title vexed him. With some luck, he would find a suitable steward for the estate quickly so that he could return home and to his own holdings before the year was over.

A knock at his office door was a welcome distraction from the parcel of solicitor’s paperwork that he had no pressing desire to go through. He would, but after visiting with the baronet, Sir William Baxter. William was perhaps his closest and oldest friend; there was very little that he could not share with him.

They were so close, in fact, that the man took one good look at Weston and knew that something was troubling him. William did not stand quite so tall as Weston did himself, but he filled the doorway to the office well enough. He was thinner than Weston, given his proclivity for swimming as much and as often as he possibly could.

Though it was not his athletic build that tended to catch attention so much as the shock of copper hair on his head, collection of freckles that covered the upper part of his face and the thin fencing scar that ran along the curve of his jaw.

“If I am interrupting a wallowing session, I suppose that I could come back at a better time?” William said with a wry smile.

“I do not wallow.” Weston answered as he fought the urge to roll his eyes. “If I were any less fond of you, I would have you thrown out for insinuating such a thing.”

“It would hardly be the worst rumor that has spread about you, you know.” William teased, producing an apple from his pocket and taking a loud, wet bite before inviting himself to sit on the edge of Weston’s desk. He placed two fingers on the open letter and spun it around to face himself. “Ah, this must have to do with the large funeral in London this week? I did not know that you knew the bloke.”

“I did not. Well, not very well. But it seems that I am to get to know him rather well posthumously.” Weston said.

“Well, with your sparkling personality that might be for the best. From everything that I have read, he was a lovely man.”

“He had decent business acumen at the very least considering the size of his purse.”

“Are you worried that the acquisition of this property is going to make your duchy rather… unmanageable?” William asked.

“Careful, you are going to get sticky apple juice on my work.” Weston sighed.

“That is not an answer.”

“It is the only one that I have.”

“You could always send someone else?”

“Are you volunteering?” Weston asked, uncomfortably hopeful. “You are the only person that I would trust to act properly in my stead.”

“Absolutely not, with the season just around the corner. There will be far too many ladies that will need attention. As you know, I am wonderful at doting attention on all of those I set my eyes on.” William grinned cheekily. “You included.”

“Yes, I have had you on me like a boil since you set your attentions on me.” Weston groused, but it was done with fondness. There were so few people that he could tolerate for longer than an evening. Even less that Weston truly felt as if he could trust them fully. Excluding the staff of his home and William, well, the list ended with William.

“You could join me? Come on! It will be fun! It has been far too long since we have played around the ton together. You have been markedly absent from all important social functions. While I get that you like your mystery to remain, you will have to take a wife sooner or later.” William reasoned.

Weston leaned back again, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. There was absolutely only one face that constantly swam to the forefront of his mind any time that he even thought about taking a wife or upholding that particular set of duties.

Even more infuriating was that it was a face that he had not even properly seen. Just a thrilling woman with the softest skin that his lips had ever touched. He swore he could still smell the lilac and lily of her perfume if he allowed those memories to drift too far.

William set the apple core on the corner of Weston’s desk, snapping out of his daydream as he shook his head that the core needed to be removed. Swiftly.

William picked it up and eased off of the desk as he headed toward a waste bin. “You will have to produce an heir sooner or later. I mean, of course you are more than welcome to leave your immense fortune and holdings to me, but I should not like the task of upkeeping everything.”

“You always were opposed to hard work.”

“It is a good thing that I am handsome then, is it not?” William winked.

“Is there a purpose to this visit other than to irk me?”

“Yes, of course. I came to inform you that you have no choice but to attend no less than three balls with me this season. I shall become even more insufferable if you do not lend me your quiet strength.”

“I shall no-”

“I will not take no for an answer.” William said, suddenly in a hurry to leave so that he would be afforded the last word in their conversation. “I will summon you at times of my choosing and I shall be most cross with you if you deny me. You know that I do not ask you for much, and so you must come!”

Weston knew that he would have to. If William had truly decided to rejoin the ton this season, there had to be a good reason. Despite the way that he seemed rather outgoing and forward spoken in private, Weston knew the truth. In crowds of any size, William had trouble getting even the shortest of sentences out.

It was not that his mind could not produce worthy conversation, as Weston found the man to be very intelligent and charming. It was simply the fact that he became impossibly shy around those that he was not comfortable with. The balls in question that Weston was going to be ‘forced’ to, were no doubt going to be the only way that William would find the courage to attend.

Perhaps he had decided that it was time for himself to take a wife. It would make sense that he wished Weston to finally do the same so that they could embark on that journey together.

But Weston knew in his heart that his attentions always drifted back to that one woman from so many years ago.

Over the years that have passed, he has had many lovers that furthered the reputation that he had of being a bit of a rake. It was not something that he was going to deny, and he certainly was not ashamed of it.

But there was a large difference between finding a woman to pass the time with and finding one whom he wished to spend the daytime hours with. It was not as if he and the masked woman had even exchanged anything revolutionary in the short hours they spent together, but there was something about her that sparked something inside of him. Something that he had not felt before or since.

He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out the handkerchief that his mystery brunette had dropped all of those years ago. The two letters embroidered at the bottom corner in pale pink were the only hint that he had ever had about her true identity. For years he had wished that he had a chance to redo that night in a way that would not have had her called away so abruptly. Women were never so forward with him, least of all the women of the ton . She had been... refreshing. Weston did not have many regrets in his life, but not having more time with that fiery woman? That was one of the biggest.

“William?” Weston called out, knowing that his friend had not gotten too far.

Sure enough, the man popped his head around the corner. “Yes?”

“How about we strike up a deal? Accompany me to the north, and I shall agree to accompany you on your outings.”

William beamed. “You have yourself a deal!”