Page 5 of A Fake Courtship with the Duke
As at the ball the previous year, the ballroom fell completely silent. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she stared out at the faces that were rapidly filling with shock and disapproval. She had certainly caused a disruption, just as her family had feared. To make matters worse, people were coming up and offering Lord Gray, who was feigning shock and ignorance,assistance in getting the wine off his suit. Would there ever be an end to the embarrassing injustices Anne kept seeming to encounter?
Chapter Two
Richard Stratford, the duke of Calder, walked into the softly lit gentleman's club, White’s, grateful for the respite from the constant demands of his title and mindless gossip and unreasonable expectations of London's elite on noblemen. Floating wafts of cigar smoke and the fragrance of polished wood greeted him like an old friend, helping him to forget the pressures and tediousness of day-to-day life. The times when he could sneak away alone were precious to him. They were the only reason why he could keep pressing on with his life as a duke.
He habitually glanced casually around, noting a few familiar faces amongst the pairs and small groups of men placing bets at card games, playing billiards and sitting and talking quietly to one another. But one face in particular caught his attention, and he smiled at once. Seated at their usual table was Thomas Harville, his closest friend, sipping on a glass of whiskey. It was a happy coincidence to see his friend there, so he made his way over to him. He waved to one of the waiters who recognized him as one of the club’s regulars, to which the waiter nodded and disappeared behind the bar, no spoken words needed.
"Richard," Thomas said, greeting him with a warm smile. "You've been scarce of late. I hope all is well with you."
Richard chuckled wryly as he took a seat opposite his friend.
"All is as well as ever, Thomas,” he said, avoiding his friend’s gaze. That wasn’t entirely true. But he didn’t want to spend this unexpected time with his friend discussing his problems.
Thomas was never one to be fooled, however. He studied Richard carefully, locking eyes with him as he sipped his drink.
“Far be it from me to debate a man on his feelings,” he said. “But I must say that I don’t quite believe you. Are you sure you are doing well?”
Richard sighed, giving his friend a sheepish smile.
“You were never one to be deceived,” he said, feeling resigned. “I have been keeping busy with business affairs and trips out of town to prevent Mother from interfering in my life.”
Thomas raised his eyebrow, opening his mouth to speak but being silenced by the arrival of Richard’s drink. After Richard tipped the waiter, Thomas tried again.
“What is she doing to meddle with your life?” he asked.
Richard finished half his drink in one gulp, wincing at the burn of the bourbon.
“She persists that I must marry and prepare to sire an heir to the dukedom of Calder,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Worst still, she keeps trying to choose my bride.”
Thomas nodded thoughtfully, but he finished his drink without saying a word. After a long moment of silence, Thomas gently smacked the table with his palm and grinned at Richard.
“How about a game of billiards?” he asked.
Richard smiled, albeit warily. It wasn’t like Thomas to change the subject during a conversation unless he was thinking about what was said and had something to say on the subject. Still, it had been ages since Richard played billiards, and it sounded like a nice reprieve from dwelling in his thoughts about his mother’s matchmaking efforts alone.
He followed Thomas to the gaming room where the billiard tables were lined up neatly in well-spaced-out rows. There were two tables available, and Thomas led them to the one at the far back of the room. He racked the balls, setting up the game while Richard selected sticks with which they could play. Richard took the first shot, but all the while he could feel his friend’s eyes on him. After his first ball missed its target, he looked up to findThomas staring at him with the same thoughtful expression he’d had at the table. He took his own shot, sinking his first ball and securing the striped balls for that round of the game, missing the second. Then, he looked at Richard and sighed.
“My friend, you can't keep avoiding marriage forever,” he said. “Perhaps there is something to the thought of you settling down.”
Richard raised his eyebrows at his friend as though Thomas had suggested that he walk off the pier with a full suit of armor on.
“Has mother gotten to you, too?” he asked. He jested, but he wondered at his friend’s sudden agreement with such an abstract notion. Richard had never been one for the idea of marriage, and Thomas was well aware of that fact. What would make his friend think he would change his mind now?
Thomas nodded, giving a small smile as he held up one hand.
“I do not mean to offend,” he said. “But consider this. If you took it upon yourself to find a bride of your choosing, perhaps it would put an end to your mother’s meddling.”
Richard blinked, surprised by his friend’s logic. He still didn’t think he could bring himself to consider the possibility of marriage right then. But nor could he deny that Thomas had a point. If he were to lose his mind and decide to marry, he would rather it be a woman he chose to wed, not one of the many shallow, air-headed heiresses his mother kept pushing on him.
As Richard lined up a shot, he considered Thomas's words. Could choosing his own candidate for marriage be his escape from his mother's incessant scheming? He didn’t imagine that she would be too thrilled with him for rejecting the women she wanted him to consider courting.
“I think that Mother might be more furious with me for such an effort,” he said, voicing his thoughts.
Thomas chuckled.
“I think you are right,” he said. “But by all accounts, you would still be doing what she wants you to do. And she could hardly bicker with you for doing what she’s been pressing upon you for so long.”
Richard shook his head, making the shot he had just taken. He made two more shots before missing again, looking at his friend doubtfully.
