Page 48 of Falling for a Forsaken Marquess
“I do not think the Potters will like hearing about this ball,” said William recalling the conversation he had had with Jeremy some weeks ago. The man had mentioned his parents wanting to do the very same thing.
“Nothing is stopping them from throwing their own ball, son,” the duchess replied, shrugging her shoulders. “I will simply have mine after theirs. Do make yourself available for the dinner party, dear. I would hate you to have other plans on the night the Humphries will be here.”
“Rest assured that I will be here,” William said.
He wanted to see and speak with the woman who was willing to give up her freedom for the sake of her younger sister, to hear all the weird and wonderful things that fell out of her mouth. At first, William had considered Agnes was lying and simply wanted to marry a wealthy, titled man like other women dreamed of doing.
However, the sincere look in her eyes and the worry that she had offended him by admitting that she wanted to marry to better her sister’s marriage prospects had softened his heart. Of course, there had been some discomfort knowing that Agnes was looking to him to provide this security, although she hadn’t stated this plainly.
They were matched together, after all, and expected to marry. Frankly, William understood the need to look after his family by any means necessary and couldn’t judge Agnes for doing just that, but he didn’t like the pressure it put on him. If he didn’t marry Agnes, she would be forced to find another gentleman with the means to help her family’s financial situation. Somehow, that idea didn’t appeal to him, but he wasn’t going to get into the rationality behind that.
William had done a little digging into the Humphries’ background and discovered an ancestor had abused the family’s wealth and left nothing but some good land and a little money to get by. It was no wonder that Agnes had decided to marry, although he was curious about her previous decision to remain unwed or why she had not married sooner when she was an attractive woman.
Perhaps her family’s financial situation had lessened her chances, but surely not every man was concerned about a woman’s dowry. It was the furthest thing from William’s mind because he had enough of his own and had no need to demand it of a woman’s family.
There were many other qualities to consider in a woman, which was why he was looking forward to seeing Agnes’ interaction with her family. The dinner would reveal whether all she had said about loving her family, taking care of them, and sacrificing for them was indeed true.
***
The duchess had not mentioned anything about inviting the Philips until breakfast on the morning of the dinner party. William had wanted to protest as another run-in with Phoebe was not a welcome thought, but it was too late to do anything about it.
However, at mere moments before the guests were due to arrive, William wasn’t thinking about Phoebe but seeing Agnes again. He would never admit it to anyone, but he was excited about speaking with her and hearing the many thoughts that ran through her mind.
She had undoubtedly made quite the impression on him, and now William had been reduced to a bundle of nerves just imagining her walking through his front door. It was all ridiculous, really, but he couldn’t help the taut feeling in his belly or the slight dampness of his hands.
He kept wiping them on his coat for fear a guest might shake his wet hand and reel back from the gruesome sensation of a damp and warm palm.
“The Humphries have arrived,” his mother announced excitedly, patting his arm. “Stevens has just told me.”
“I’ll go to them,” said William, taking a step forward only to be held back by his mother’s hand on his arm.
“Stevens will escort them into the drawing room just like he has done for the other guests,” the duchess reminded him.
“But are the Humphries not a little more special?” William countered. “As you often say, they might become our in-laws.”
William felt a little surprised as he said that. Marriage was still the fetters threatening to weigh down his feet on a sinking ship of marital doom, but his casual mention of in-laws hadn’t sent him running for the hills. Perhaps he had heard his mother talk about the topic so much that it no longer bothered him as it used to.
Pleased at his growing mental stamina for the subject, he made his way to the foyer, unable to stop a little smile spreading across his face as he turned the corner. The Humphries were immediately noticeable by their shared facial characteristics, with Agnes most resembling her father.
Despite Stevens’ presence, they were all gathered around her as though they needed her guidance to manoeuvre about the house. The butler didn’t seem concerned but somewhat amused by the chattering family.
“Oh, how lovely it is!” Lady Trafalgar remarked. “It reminds me a little of my uncle’s home in Brighton. He loved adorning his home with lavish details, but my cousin is much simpler. I wonder what the house looks like now?”
“I doubt Cousin Michael would invite us, Mama,” Lavinia commented. “He seems to think we’ll ask him for money, but I would never ask for even a slice of stale bread from the miserly fiend.”
“Oh, hush Livvy,” Agnes scolded, but there was no true bite to her words. “There is no need to be so judgemental. He is still family.”
“I agree with your sister, dear,” Lord Trafalgar added. “We cannot choose our family.”
“Well, thank heavens we can choose our husbands!” Lavinia exclaimed, then seemed to rethink her statement. “Can we choose who we shall marry, Papa? Mama requested a matchmaker’s help for Agnes, but I will not need any help as I—”
“Have said too much in the wrong place,” Agnes interrupted, gently pulling on her sister’s arm in warning. “We can discuss this matter another time, Livvy. What will people think of us?”
Lavinia’s pale skin turned pink as her eyes darted to Stevens and back to her sister. They hadn’t yet noticed that he was near, so William made himself known before they said anything else that might embarrass them once they realised that he had likely heard it all. Stevens was the first to see him approach and bowed, announcing the Humphries’ arrival.
“Good evening, My Lord,” the baron greeted, bowing.
The women followed suit, curtsying as they murmured their greeting. Agnes’ eyes briefly flickered to him, but she quickly looked away as a faint blush stained her cheeks.
