Page 62 of A Cursed Bride for the Duke
“Lord Beaumont,” he drawled.
Beaumont chuckled nervously. “Your Grace,” he replied, his gaze darting away momentarily. “Perhaps it would be more convenient if you joined us,” he suggested, regaining his composure. “We could discuss matters more privately.”
Wilhelm’s eyes locked onto Kenneth’s, a silent question hanging in the air.
Kenneth offered a subtle shake of his head, a flash of warning in his eyes. But, emboldened by the day’s triumphs and the lingering warmth of several glasses of brandy, Wilhelm felt it was time to remind the lords of his greatness.
“Very well,” he declared, rising from his chair with a confident grin. “Lead the way, Lord Beaumont.”
Kenneth shrugged and followed behind Wilhelm as they let Beaumont guide them through the maze of tables. The whispers and curious glances of the tavern’s patrons followed them, andthe conversations around them died down. Wilhelm held his head high, his gaze sweeping across the room.
As they approached the table, they were hit by the strong smell of alcohol and cigars, dense smoke clouding the air above them. The other lords rose to greet them, their expressions shifting between malice and unease. Wilhelm smiled contemptuously, studying each face with unabashed relish before settling on Shelton, who met his stare with hostile disrespect.
“Gentlemen,” he greeted, as he and Kenneth pulled out their chairs and sat down. “How… unexpected to see you all gathered here.”
Lord Beaumont chuckled nervously. “Quite so, Ravenshire,” he replied. “We were merely discussing business matters.”
“Business matters? What matters of business do you have left to discuss?” Wilhelm snickered. “I am intrigued. Do tell.”
A tense silence descended upon the group. Wilhelm scanned the faces of the men who had once belittled him, ostracized him, and actively tried to destroy his reputation and banish him from Society. Now, they sat before him, their power diminished, and their influence waning.
“As a matter of fact, we were discussing your recent business ventures,” Lord Harrington finally spoke, his voice carefully neutral. “Your success is quite remarkable.”
Wilhelm sighed, raising his eyebrows as his lips curled into an involuntary smile.
“Remarkable, indeed,” he agreed, his gaze meeting Harrington’s. “Though I suspect my success is a source of discomfort for some.”
He turned to meet Alfred’s gaze, the memory of their last encounter flashing before his eyes.
“I trust you are well, Lord Shelton?” he inquired.
Alfred openly sneered at him, his eyes gleaming with malice as his index finger tapped rhythmically on his glass. The sound grated on Wilhelm’s nerves.
“Perfectly well, Ravenshire,” he retorted arrogantly. “And you?”
“Never better,” Wilhelm replied coolly, his gaze unwavering as he leaned back in his chair. “It seems my return to London has been fruitful.”
Alfred’s gaze hardened, his shoulders stiffening.
“Indeed,” he grumbled.
Wilhelm’s eyes remained locked onto Alfred’s, a silent battle of wills raging between them. The other lords shifted in their seats, their eyes fixed on him.
“I must confess, Your Grace,” Lord Beaumont began, “Your recent business ventures have intrigued us.”
Wilhelm’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “Intrigued?” he snorted, his gaze sweeping over the faces of the men gathered around him. “In what way, pray tell?”
Beaumont hesitated as he looked at the other lords, a silent conversation passing between them. Then, with a forced smile, he continued.
“Your ambition has not gone unnoticed,” he explained, his voice laced with a subtle warning. “It seems you are determined to disrupt the order we have established.”
Wilhelm’s grin widened. “I prefer to think of it as innovation.”
Lord Beaumont narrowed his eyes contemptuously.
“Innovation?” he scoffed, his gaze hardening. “Or revenge?”
The accusation lingered in the air as the lords nodded their heads in agreement.
