Chapter 33

WILLIAM HAD SLIPPED into his room, the hour blessedly so late that Benedict had fallen asleep. He hadn’t managed to wait up for William, though not for lack of trying. The candle on his bedside table was still alight, and Benedict had propped himself up with the intention to stay awake by reading, resulting in the boy falling asleep with an open book atop his face. After changing into his nightshirt and scrubbing the evidence of his night with Mab from his britches, William removed the book from Benedict’s face and blew out the candle before crawling into his own bed.

William clutched his pillow to his chest all the while thinking of Mab. His transition to sleep was so seamless that when Benedict woke him the next morning with an excited squeal, followed by violently shaking him, he had no recollection of being asleep.

Benedict demanded to know how the evening had gone and could barely contain his shock when William revealed that Mab not only knew who he was but had figured out the murder of his father from next to no information at all. After his gasps of shock and awe and proclamations that Mab should consider a career as a private investigator, Benedict blushed a shade of scarlet as he sheepishly asked if they had shared a kiss.

Normally, William would be tight-lipped about such things. While he had only tumbled with lonely widows who were desperate enough for contact that they were willing to overlook William’s reputation, he had never uttered a word to anyone about such meetings for fear that his name would forever sully theirs. But this was different. Mab was different. She did not care that he was William Blackwater, the man so deplorable and of ill nature that he’d been locked away for the good of the public. And she had practically declared that she wanted to be with him.

Besides, Benedict had already stepped into the role of younger brother, and he was a hopeless romantic. A trait which was, reluctantly, rubbing off on William.

“I kissed her hand before I left and promised to meet her tonight,” William said. Not a lie, but William certainly would not tell him about the events that followed kissing her hand. And from the way Benedict was squealing into his pillow in delight, William reckoned that if he gave the boy a blow-by-blow account of the encounter, the poor lad’s head might spontaneously explode.

“Do you think I might kiss Tilly’s hand the next time we meet?” Benedict asked, eyes wide and pleading. “Or do you think that might be too quick for Tilly? Mab seems to have a lot more confidence, and if that is the rate she moves at, perhaps it is too fast for Tilly.”

“If you are unsure, you should ask her. Allow Tilly to set the pace for your relationship,” William said, his chest puffing out. He’d never been asked in earnest for his advice before, and he rather thought his words were of the sensible kind for his first imparting of wisdom.

“I rather think you’re right,” Benedict said. “I shall simply ask her and allow her to set the pace she is comfortable with. And should it take years to woo her, that is perfectly fine. I have no place else to be.”

The pair had a rushed lunch, Benedict eager to begin the preparations of readying himself for the soiree. William had decided not to tell Benedict of his intentions to ask Mab to marry him, partly out of nerves that she’d reject him, but he also enjoyed watching just how excited Benedict was, flitting around the room while getting himself ready, and didn’t want the lad to have to share his excitement with William’s news.

A knock came at the door on the second hour of preparations.

“Come in!” Benedict called.

Wilfred bustled through the door, a wide grin on his face. “Lads, I rather think I should change my career to that of a postman with how often I’ve had to deliver letters to you!”

William excitedly held out his hand, his mind immediately conjuring explicit love letters from Mab.

“They’re not. Always. For you.” Wilfred brought the letter down upon William’s head between each pause. “This one is for Benedict.” Wilfred handed Benedict the letter before settling beside William on the bed.

Benedict blushed as he opened the seal of the letter. He read the letter a full three times before Wilfred’s impatience got the better of him. “Come on, man! Tell us what it says!”

“It’s Tilly,” Benedict said, breathless.

Wilfred rolled his eyes. “Of course it is, but what does it say?”

“She asks if I would like to skip the soiree tonight and have supper with her ...” Benedict gulped. “... in her room ... just the two of us.”

Wilfred’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Let me see that,” he said, unceremoniously swiping the letter from Benedict. He also read it three times before muttering a disbelieving, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“What do I do?” Benedict asked.

William’s mouth opened, but no words came out. The request had apparently also caught Wilfred off guard, for he too had lost the ability to speak. At some point, Benedict had begun to pace .

Wilfred finally offered a rather unhelpful, “This is unprecedented.”

“Benedict, I’m sure she is simply wanting to continue the conversation you had the other day. There is nothing to worry about; it’s hardly as if she is going to drop to one knee and propose marriage. Just stick to the plan. Remain calm and collected and emphasise that you are putting the control in her court, that you are willing to move at the pace she sets.”

“Stellar advice,” Wilfred said, standing to his feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, we have a new group of men arriving, and I must don the delightful persona of Wil once more.” As if by magic, in a single look, the friendly Wilfred was gone. Wil now stood in his place, a smug smile on his face as if William were nothing more than a pile of dung deposited in front of him. It truly was a remarkable trick. Wil offered an indifferent shrug to the pair as he sauntered off with nary a goodbye.

IT TOOK A SOLID HOUR for Benedict to calm down enough to begin the arduous task of picking an outfit for his supper with Tilly – the one he had previously chosen apparently completely unsuitable for the change in setting. William experienced a moment of blessed relief while continuously offering his reassurances to the lad, but now his stomach turned to lead.

What if Mab had woken up this morning and had come to her senses? He certainly couldn’t blame her. In fact, she would be a fool to choose him.

But the situation was out of his hands now. He’d done the gentlemanly thing – actually, he’d done the exact opposite of that immediately before, but nonetheless, he’d ultimately done the gentlemanly thing – and allowed Mab time to make up her own mind.

Either she’d be waiting for him at the soiree, where they would dance, and he would find a quiet place – perhaps take a stroll in the garden – and he would drop to one knee and ask for her hand in marriage, or he would find out that she’d come to her senses, and he’d use that knee to propel himself into the nearest carriage to take him back home to his little hovel.

He so desperately wished for the former. He didn’t bother to try to imagine what their life together would be like; he’d proven his imagination when it came to Mab fell woefully short of the real thing. But he was certain that it would be perfection.

But if she did decide he wasn’t the man for her, then William wasn’t certain what life would have in store for him. He would certainly be closed off to ever taking a wife – after all, Mab was the only woman for him. But William felt like a different man to the one who had practically fallen out of the carriage on the doorstep of Gaol Lodge. He felt like something had healed inside him, and he yearned to continue the healing process. If he were to return home alone, he was determined to let go of the ghosts of his past. He would sell his mother’s estate and downsize. He would take Martha, Martin and the painting of his mother to their new abode, and he would spend his money on tutors, and he would attain the education that his father had denied him. He would use that to make something of himself. And he would venture out into society too, he thought. Provided Benedict and Tilly didn’t move at a glacial pace, he would have them for company.

And, perhaps, he might just bump into Mab at a couple of the events ...

Always back to Mab.

William dragged his hand down his face and sighed. God! He really hoped he was enough for Mab just as he was.

William slid on his jacket. Benedict, who was using the mirror to carefully sculpt his hair to cover his now scabbed head wound, sucked in a scandalised breath as he took in William’s reflection. “You can’t possibly be wearing that?” he said, spinning on his heel to face William.

William patted down his lapels, the material harsh and familiar beneath his palms. He would wear the outfit he’d arrived in. William would be eternally thankful to Benedict for allowing him to borrow his outfits, but tonight, Mab would see the real him. It was one thing to say one was under financial stress when one was dressed in a suit that was more expensive than a working man’s house. He would have Mab under no illusions as to his financial situation.

Which reminded him.

“Say, Benedict, you wouldn’t have happened to have heard of the Dubarrys by any chance?” The moment the question had left his lips, he remembered that Benedict had never been out in society before.

To William’s surprise, Benedict replied, “Of course I’ve heard of the Dubarrys. Geralt Dubarry and his brother were born in the slums of Liverpool, but he is a smart man with a head for business. He built his shipping empire up from nothing, and he is now one of the wealthiest men in England. Why do you ask?”

One of the wealthiest men in England ...

William didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Here he was, making a big song and dance about his being unable to support Mab financially and making sure that she knew what she was getting herself into before committing, when she was the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in England.

She must have thought William was a complete and utter tit for harping on about it.

No wonder Mab didn’t seem remotely concerned about his financial situation. Why should she be? Her dowry alone could probably purchase a palace. William felt almost giddy. Not about her fortune, though it was a relief that she had one. No. Mab was truly pursuing William for everything else he brought to the table.

It was a relief to think that she saw something more than misery in him, for he did have a lot more to give. He had a heart full of love that was already hers.

One thing he did know was that if she accepted him, especially after the whirlwind of the last few days, there couldn’t possibly be anything more that could stand in their way.

AS THE PAIR DESCENDED the stairs, cheers erupted from the smoking room.

Wilfred stood by the door, arms crossed as he peered into the room, his eyes fixed on a pair of unfamiliar faces.

“What’s going on?” Benedict asked.

Without looking at them, Wilfred answered tersely, “Engagement. David and Deidre.”

Before either had a chance to ask what the matter was, Wilfred slipped into the room, keeping to the shadows as he made his way to the new set of men.

“What’s got his britches in a bunch?” Benedict said with an accompanying huff.

“William! Ben!” David’s billowing voice filled the room. A second later, branch-like arms enveloped William and Benedict. “Come join me in celebration! I am to be wed to the most beautiful, wonderful, fierce creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering!”

The crowd whooped and cheered in celebration as William and Benedict offered David their congratulations. William managed to spy Wilfred once more, who stood arms crossed, his eyes hawk-like as he watched the newcomers. The first man looked utterly bewildered at the scene unfolding before him. His eyes were wide under his strawberry-blond lashes, his freckles dancing across his face in a disoriented fashion that matched his expression. His clothes were of fine quality, and he clearly was not used to such familiarity among the menfolk. His eyes lingered on some of the men that obviously weren’t of the ton, which seemingly included William as he was dressed as if he’d just rolled in from a day of toiling the fields.

The second newcomer was his opposite in every way. He sat back in his chair as if he had always been here, his ice-blue gaze languid and indifferent as it landed on each man, quietly assessing them. One of the residents – William wasn’t sure of his name, though remembered that he was of a kindly demeanour from their only interaction – stood between the newcomers, pointing at the men before mumbling what was presumably a brief description. As he pointed towards Benedict, the resident muttered a few words, doubtless a very brief overview of Benedict and his budding relationship with Tilly. The icy-eyed man’s lips tightened, the only indication of emotion he’d shown thus far, as the strawberry-blond man’s mouth opened in surprise, his brows knotting in shock as his head swivelled from side to side between Benedict and the storyteller. Next in the line of fire was William. He saw the resident forming the name “Mab” on his lips before both newcomers snapped their eyes towards William.

William’s lips pursed, and he suddenly realised just how uncommon a name Mab was. The icy-eyed man cocked his eyebrow disbelievingly as his gaze tracked William from head to toe, while the strawberry-blond man looked positively scandalised. Indeed, the strawberry-blond man was so confused that William was able to lip-read “Him? Mab Dubarry has chosen him ?”

William’s fist clenched at his side, but his anger was quickly doused when the strawberry-haired man looked back at William, his face not portraying disgust but rather something akin to relief. Perhaps he too was in a similar situation to William.

At some point, David had released William from his grip and had been promptly engulfed by the crowd once more. By the time William glanced back to the newcomers, they were making their way directly towards William and Benedict.

To William’s surprise, it was Benedict who greeted the newcomers first. “Good evening,” he said. “My name is Ben, and this is my good friend, William.”

“Good evening!” the strawberry-blond one said. “This is certainly not what I expected when I wrote to Aunt áine! In fact, I was quite convinced that she wasn’t real, but ... well, needs must, I suppose. Anyway, my name is James Go—” The newcomer cut himself off, before clearing his throat. “Apologies,” he continued. “I think it might take me an age to get used to the first-name-only rule. Indeed, I have just been chastised by our friend over there.” James cocked his head towards the resident who had been talking to them just moments before.

William turned towards the icy-eyed man. His ash-blond hair framed his handsome, indifferent face as he, without flourish of any kind, simply offered his name. “Rob.”

“I am very much excited for the soiree this evening,” James continued. “I was somewhat worried that the ladies would be here under duress, but I think my concerns have been put to bed, now that I’ve been through the first stage of the process. I believe you two have already found a match?”

Benedict beamed. “I believe we have. William here is quite enamoured with a wonderful woman named Mab.” James, in his excitement, made to say something but seemed to quickly recall the anonymity rule and promptly closed his mouth. “And I have met the most incredible young woman who is perfect for me in every conceivable way.”

“Ah, yes,” James said, as if unable to control himself. “Tilly? We have been briefly warned that she’s gone through some sort of hardship, and that if she does appear at the soiree, we’re to keep our distance unless she approaches us.”

Rob remained tight-lipped at this proclamation, and William wondered if he could infer from the brief description what might have happened to Tilly that his companion was clearly too green to comprehend.

Benedict’s words were careful as he said, “Tilly’s situation is complicated, and it would be best not to ponder it further. Besides, you need not worry about encountering her this evening. We will be dining in private and not attending the soiree. ”

Both newcomers wore a look of relief, and James said, “Ah, very well. I’m afraid I am a bit on the talkative side and occasionally say things before thinking, so it’s probably for the best that I’m not to meet your Tilly this evening.”

William thought James was rather like Benedict in that sense, and he supposed it had worked out for the lad in the end.

“Alright, laddies!” Angus’s voice boomed from the doorway. “For the new men, dinnae forget what I told ye about the flowers. Yer carriages are ready to take ye to the main house.” Angus clapped his hands together. “Wheel, come on! The women aren’t going to woo themselves!”

There was an excited shuffle as the men followed Angus into the hallway, lining themselves up in groups of twos and threes to await their carriage. Thankfully, William and Benedict managed to get a carriage to themselves, for the moment they were away from the throng of men, a nervous energy settled over the pair once more. Fortunately for William, Benedict’s nerves were so intense that they managed to distract him from his own.

Benedict twisted the sleeves of his jacket before darting his hand into an inside pocket. “Do you think Tilly would appreciate this?” Benedict produced a tattered box and handed it to William. “I shan’t give it to her if the time is not appropriate. But I brought it with me just in case the occasion called for it. It isn’t much, though ... and it seemed far more romantic in my head,” Benedict babbled.

William undid the stiff clasp and stared down at the necklace. “It’s ... a shell,” William said, confused.

Benedict took the box from William’s hand dejectedly. “It’s ugly, isn’t it. I was naive to think Tilly would like it. What woman sees a jewellery box and would be excited to find a shell inside as opposed to a gem.”

William snapped the box back and opened it again, holding it up to the light from the sconce. “Actually, I was going to say it was very unique, and very beautiful.” He wasn’t lying. The shell had been split down the middle and polished. Each chamber of the inner spiral glowed a glittering amber in the candlelight. William flipped it over, and the entire surface of the shell flashed iridescently in the light. The shell had been encased in a band of silver around its rim and hung on a delicate chain. “What is it?” William asked.

“I’m not really sure,” Benedict said. “Just before my brother passed, my parents took us down to Dorset. I snuck out one morning, and I met a girl while I was walking along the beach who was collecting rocks. But not just any rocks. Fossils, she said they were, and I believe this one was an ancient sea creature that she said the locals called a snakestone. She talked me through all her findings with enthusiasm like I’d never seen before. It gave me hope to think that perhaps one day I might find a subject that was as interesting to me as fossils were to her, and that I may find joy in a life of solitude. I purchased this off her and always kept it with me as a reminder that there are other joys to be had from life than having a family. But when my brother passed, and I eventually made my mind up that for the sake of my parents, I needed to find a wife, I had it made into a necklace. I guess my intention was to present it to my future wife, if I found one here, as a reminder that there were other joys I could provide her in lieu of the marital bed. It seemed much more romantic in my head to present to a woman something that I had cherished over the years. But now I just feel foolish. A son of a duke should be showering a woman in jewels, not seashells.”

“I think it is singularly one of the most romantic gestures I’ve ever heard of,” said William in earnest. “And I think Tilly will very much appreciate it.”

“You really think so?” Benedict asked, his features settling in relief.

“I know so,” said William.

Benedict slid the box back into his pocket, a wide grin on his handsome face.

A few moments later, the carriage clattered to a halt. Benedict practically jolted from the carriage the moment the door opened, eager to get to Tilly. They followed the guard into the hallway before he deposited them in front of another guard.

“Tilly is waiting for you in her room,” the guard said, barely able to contain his excitement. “I’ll escort you there.”

“Wish me luck!” Benedict said.

“I would, only you don’t need it,” William replied, causing the young lad to beam brightly.

William watched Benedict and the guard disappear down the corridor, and it wasn’t until they were swallowed by the darkness that he turned back to join the other men. The music had started from the room beyond, and William joined in the flurry of movement, straightening jackets, smoothing hair and making last-minute adjustments.

Finally, the doors swung open. The men ahead of William quickly dispersed, filtering into all corners of the room. It took only a second for William’s eyes to land upon Mab.

Her fiery brows knotted in confusion as she looked him up and down, and for the briefest of seconds, he regretted not borrowing another suit from Benedict. But the moment her forest-green eyes met his, there was nothing but softness and acceptance.

William’s feet moved of their own accord. He barely noticed the cheering from the corner of the room that David and Deidre were in, or the curious stares of the newcomers, as princess and pauper finally closed the distance between each other.

William had fully intended to spend the evening wooing Mab in earnest. His plan consisted loosely of doing everything within his power to solidify his other redeeming qualities with Mab, then finding a quiet place to profess his love for her and ask her to be his wife.

Unfortunately – actually, very fortunately – Mab, the love of his life, had a different plan in mind.