Page 6 of When the Viscount Seduces
“Eberforce is all bluster,” Lazarus said. He looked to Evan. “I’m just sorry he was the recipient of your sister’s drink since he’s such a nincompoop. I wish it had been me, for I would have laughed it off.”
Evan’s gaze remained intense. “You danced with her after. I can’t thank you enough. I’m sure that lessened the impact of what happened. People were talking about that almost as much as her mishap. Or perhaps that’s just my wishful thinking,” he muttered.
Becky brought a tankard of ale for Evan, but didn’t linger. Lazarus inclined his head at her as she moved away.
“I was happy to be of assistance,” Lazarus said. “Your sister’s a good sort. Hopefully, she will recover from this incident.”
“It isn’t just tonight, though.” Evan took a long pull from his ale and set the tankard back on the table. “She’s had a rough go of it this Season. I’m fairly certain our mother is already making plans to withdraw to Bath. I suspect our father may even suggest they go home to Bristol and perhaps try again next year.” Evan sighed. “Though, I’m not sure what good that will do. Gwen is just abysmal at playing Society’s game. She’s a terrible dancer, which I’m sure you discovered, Somerton.”
“She wasn’t that bad.” But then it had been the easiest of dances. “Not everyone needs to possess the grace of a swan.”
Evan went on. “And she gets nervous if she has to talk to too many people she doesn’t already know. She’s more comfortable alone in a library. Indeed, she spends far too much time reading books, according to our father. She can read several books in a day. I forget how many.” He shook his head in disbelief.
Several books in a day? How had Lazarus not known that about her?
Because while he knew her somewhat, he didn’t know her well.
Lazarus couldn’t read a book in a week let alone several in a day. Oh, to be able to read with even a modicum of ease! It always took him so much time and effort to get through a single page of correspondence. His secretary believed Lazarus didn’t care to read—not that he struggled, however—and thankfully communicated the contents of written messages and other pertinent information verbally.
In a few short weeks, Lazarus was to give a speech in the Lords. He could memorize it—and planned to—but if he needed to refer to the written speech at all, he would be lost. Plus, he needed someone to help him memorize it by reading it aloud and having Lazarus repeat it back. That would be far easier than if he tried to read it and memorize it himself. The entire situation was giving him fits, and he was close to bowing out.
But he didn’t want to. His father would have been so proud to hear him speak. He’d been the one person who understood Lazarus’s deficiency and had done his best to help him overcome it. That Lazarus read at all was a credit to his father’s love and dedication. Lazarus had been just seventeen when his father had died in a riding accident, and the loss was the most painful thing he’d ever endured.
“Did we lose you, Somerton?” Shefford asked. “Or will you come to the Rogue’s Den with us?”
The Rogue’s Den was an invitation-only brothel, however the proprietress preferred the term “pleasure house.” Normally, Lazarus would join them, but at the moment, his mind was rife with ideas.
“I may stop in at the Phoenix Club,” Lazarus said. “That is more my interest this evening.”
Shefford nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Actually, that sounds more appealing to me as well,” Evan said to Lazarus. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” Lazarus could then potentially ascertain a little more information about Evan’s sister, for Lazarus had a plan involving her. He saw the potential for them to help each other. She could assist him with his reading, and he could bolster her chances for a successful Season. If his attention tonight had helped her, he could continue in that vein.
“Aren’t you both boring?” Shefford said with a grunt. “Fine. I’ll go to the Phoenix Club too. But let us finish our ale. The Siren’s Call has some of the finest.”
“That they do,” Evan agreed.
Lazarus hid his smile as he took another drink. Tomorrow, he would call on Miss Price and present his proposal. He was a bit surprised that he wasn’t nervous to reveal his shameful secret to her, but he just knew she wouldn’t find fault with him. On the contrary, he was confident she would be the soul of kindness and understanding.
They could help each other immensely. He hoped she would agree.
The following afternoon, Gwen settled herself in the coziest chair—in her opinion—in the drawing room to reread one of her favorite novels. It would be a welcome escape after last night’s mishap and this morning’s discussions regarding what they would do next.
Two pages in, Gwen’s mother entered the drawing room, looking more elegant in her simple blue day dress than many women appeared in their evening finery. “Your father’s just left.”
Gwen closed her book and set it in her lap. “You’ve reached a decision, then?” They’d been discussing whether Gwen should remain in London and attempt a recovery from last night’s debacle or if she should flee to Bath or even home to Bristol. She tried not to fidget as she awaited her fate.
“Your father and I think it may be best if we repair to Bath. We know a great many people there, and things are just…less stringent.” Mama gave her a hopeful smile. “We also discussed whether you might be open to an arranged marriage. That way you can avoid the pressures of Society’s expectations. Your father and I would only attempt such an endeavor with your approval and input.”
An arranged marriage.
Gwen couldn’t say she was surprised to hear those words, but it was disheartening all the same. Because the realization that she couldn’t attract a groom on her own made her feel lacking. And she didn’t think shewaslacking. But what did she know?
“You also don’t have to marry,” her mother said. “Your Aunt Araminta didn’t wed.”
Aunt Araminta was her father’s older sister, and while she seemed quite content as a spinster with a menagerie of animals, Gwen didn’t see herself living that life. She wanted a family of her own that was as close and loving as hers had been when she was growing up.
