‘It means nothing.’Please God, let that be true. ‘He was being polite. I told you that…’
But whatever she was about to say was cut off by another gentleman arriving. She’d danced with him before, but she could not remember his name. ‘May I have this dance, Miss Hawkins?’
‘I… um…’ What was happening? Emily knew she wasn’t hideous to look at, but neither was she the most beautiful woman in the room, despite what Freddie had said earlier. She’d always had her fair share of partners, but she had never been sought after and certainly had never received three dance requests on the trot.
A group of partygoers erupted into laughter, drawing her attention. Behind them, her mother was watching her, her lips tilted up in a slight smile as she gazed at her youngest daughter. Emily glanced at the sanctuary behind the large leaves of the potted plant, before dropping a curtsey. ‘I would be delighted to have this dance with you.’
The man beamed and led her back to the floor.
Chapter Thirteen
Freddie was having a good time; the wine was flowing, the cards were in his favour and the men he was playing with were consistently amusing, which is why Edward’s question made absolutely no sense.
‘I look perfectly well, thank you very much,’ Freddie responded to his brother’s query with the dignity of a man having the time of his life.
‘You look like you have stepped in something unpleasant and cannot get rid of the smell.’ There had been a time, relatively recently, that Freddie had not had to spend any time with his brothers. Months could go by without laying eyes on one of them. Those had been good times in his opinion. Now he was surrounded by them and they were always asking tiresome questions, never giving him a moment’s peace.
Freddie’s opponent folded, leaving him the victor. He raised an eyebrow at Edward, who only smiled smugly at him as if he knew secrets to which Freddie was not privy.
‘Take a stroll with me.’
‘No, thank you. I am enjoying my time at the table.’
Edward sighed. ‘I need to talk to you about something serious and I would rather do it when we are out and about than at Glanmore House.’
Freddie’s brothers had never sought him out to talk to him before. He couldn’t remember a time when one of them had needed the other, or at least admitted to needing the other. There had been plenty of time during Freddie’s childhood when he had been desperate to have one of his brothers stand by him, but it had never happened. If Freddie ignored this request, then he’d be sliding back into behaviour he had been trying to put behind him.
Freddie’s opponents looked relieved as he stood and joined his brother. The two of them left the gaming room and made their way into the packed ballroom. Annoyingly, Freddie’s eyes immediately landed on Emily. It was as if his brain were deliberately trying to torture his body by constantly throwing her into his path and making him feel things, yearning, desperately pathetic things that his mind would certainly not be on board with. Unfortunately, the wine he had imbibed had robbed him of what little good sense he had and his body was in control. That could be the only explanation for that wild compliment he had given Emily earlier. He may as well have handed her his heart and told her to stamp on it. Obviously, the half a glass of wine he’d had before he had said it to her had been very strong indeed; there could be no other explanation for the complete loss of his wits.
‘Miss Hawkins is having a lovely time,’ Edward commented. ‘After her dance with the duke, she’s been in constant demand.’
Freddie grunted. After her dance with him in which he’d revealed more of himself than was wise, she’d danced with his older brother and become the belle of the ball. Men were practically falling over themselves to ask her to partner them. After the fourth man had nearly broken his neck trying to get to her, Freddie had taken himself off to the card room. He hadn’t needed to watch different men holding her hand or twirling her around the dance floor. He wasn’t normally a violent man, but he could happily have slaughtered every man who had held her in his arms.
‘What was that?’
‘I did not say anything.’
‘It sounded more like a growl, but I will believe you if you say that you are both feeling fine and not making noises like a deranged beast. Are you ready to leave?’
Freddie had never been more ready for anything. He couldn’t really think why he was here in the first place. He knew he had a reputation for being the life and soul of a party, but some nights it was too much effort to keep smiling and playing the fool and tonight was one of those.
Outside, the wind had picked up and a strong breeze lifted his tailcoats.
‘What did you want to talk about?’ Freddie asked as they strode along the street.
‘Sebastian.’
Freddie grunted. Sebastian had been gone from their lives for ten years. The brothers didn’t speak of him often; hell, none of them spoke to each other much at all. Their aunt had kept them separate as much as possible, breeding mistrust. With his lack of academic ability, Freddie had felt like an outsider amongst a group of outsiders. In the few years before Sebastian had left forever, Freddie hadn’t spoken more than a dozen words to his older brother.
‘Sebastian’s death, I do not like it,’ Edward continued. ‘Nor the unexplained time during which we cannot account for Charlotte’s whereabouts. I find I cannot stop thinking about it.’
Freddie glanced at his brother; he’d tugged his coat tighter around him and was hunched into the wind.
‘I am not thrilled about these events either.’ He found that was true. He and Sebastian hadn’t been close, but his presence had been reassuring. If Sebastian was getting away with not conforming to the expectations of being a duke’s son, then there was less heat on Freddie.Perhaps if Sebastian had stayed, the two of them might have become friends. If he’d returned to London before his death, Freddie couldn’t imagine a world where he would not have wanted to be involved in his niece’s life, and would have wanted to get to know his brother for that alone. But it was no use speculating; his brother was dead and their relationship would never progress.
‘Did you know that Sebastian was rich?’ asked Edward.
‘Um—’ Freddie wished he hadn’t had so much wine; it had seemed like a good idea when Emily was smiling prettily at her latest dance partner and his stomach had felt particularly sour. Now, the wine hung heavily on his shoulders and this conversation was like wading through the thick mud ‘—we are the sons of a duke.’
