The warmth of his hand permeated the thin silk of her glove as William led her out of the ballroom to the balcony where Hansen had left for. Holding onto his hand as an anchor, Bridget braced herself for the cold air outside, but wanted to curl in on herself with how hostile Hansen’s gaze was.
They stood in ripping, abrasive tension before Hansen began, “Is this some kind of joke?”
“Our marriage?” William replied. “It is the furthest thing from it. But there are some extenuating circumstances you are not aware of.”
“Like what?” Hansen asked mildly, his gaze flickering between the two.
“A while ago, the Duke and I had met under less-than-auspicious circumstances, and he made me a promise. A week ago, when I learned my brother was missing, I asked him to fulfill his promise to me,” Bridget said nervously. “I never lied to you Graham, I firmly believed you and I were a good fit, but—"
“He seduced you.”
“No,” William cut in. “There was no seduction, but I am uniquely fit to find her missing brother, a poor soul who came from war as another man. The reason for our ‘marriage’ is a red herring to dissuade others from looking closer as we search for him. Surely you can understand how we would draw suspicion if we are seen out and about with no acceptable explanation.”
“And you?” Hansen asked. “What doyouget out of it?Amusement?”
“No,” William replied staidly. “My reasons are entirely selfish, but they are not any business of yours.”
Bridget felt trapped between the two, regretting that this was the way the situation had ultimately spiraled out. She could count on one hand the many points where she could have slipped away to speak with Hansen in private and cushion the blow, except now, this had become a scandal.
“The fact is, it is a done deal,” William replied coolly.
Hansen’s eyes flickered to Bridget and back to William. “If that is sincerely the case, then I will graciously bow out of the courtship we had begun. I wish you both the best.”
Her heart sank. As much as she wanted to stop him—it would not look right, and it would not result in anything good. It was best to not complicate anything more, and she stood silent and watched Hansen walk away.
Miserable, she wrapped her arms around her middle and trained her gaze away from William; all she wanted now was to vanish or sink into the floor. To be anywhere but here.
His fingers were cool beneath her chin, tilting her face up, and all traces of the cocky grin he had before were gone. Instead, helooked somber. “You do not have to be sad about him, Bridget. He was not a good match for you anyhow.”
“And you are?” she asked emptily. Her laugh was hollow. “If I had not been a pariah of our society before, I am now.”
“Our society is a twist and tangle of lies, hypocrisy, and deception, all wrapped up in pretty gowns and staid suits, pretend smiles and insincere greetings over glasses of champagne.
“The ugly truth is that the ladies will be your bosom friends until a man is called into the situation and they become sworn enemies, ready to stab you in the back as they go on to drink tea with pinkies lifted at your gravestone,” he muttered. “The lords are no better either.”
“The ton feeds on the misfortune of others and gobbles down scandals like they drink wine because they live hollow lives and do not want to see anyone in a better position than they are.
“Even worse, they abhor seeing those they consider as lesser stepping over their heads. You do not need to prove anything to any one of them, Bridget, their validation is not even valid,” he finished.
She swallowed, then nodded to the room beyond the French windows. “I am afraid to walk back in there.”
“Keep your head up,” he smiled warmly while pulling the handle. “You have nothing to be ashamed about. Do not look ashamed, do not look guilty, do not give these serpents any reason to strike. When we re-enter inside, we will speak to my uncle, dance one final waltz, and we will leave for your friend’s home.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, and notched her chin up, took his arm, and walked back into the room.
She forced herself not to look at anyone directly even while the skin on the side and back of her neck burned with the scalpel-like gazes fileting under her skin. Still, she kept her head up and even took a glass of arrack punch from William while a Minuet dance was underway.
“Everyone is staring at us with varying degrees of shock and amusement,” William laughed over his glass. “Such ignorant fools. Are you ready to meet my uncle?”
After another fortifying sip of punch, she set the glass down. “As ready as I will ever be.”
“This way then.”
CHAPTER 17
The billiards room was empty of lords who would usually be sharpening sticks and rolling billiard balls over green baize. Presently, only his uncle stood, hands clasped behind his back, while staring out of a large, mullioned window.
Shutting the door behind him, William acknowledged the old man. “We are here, Uncle.”
