‘There was space,’ Julian said. ‘I saw no reason why you could not share it.’
It was not a particularly enthusiastic response, and a little of Balard’s cheerfulness seemed to drain away. Then he rallied. ‘It was kind, all the same. I enjoyed Miss Fisk’s company, as well.’
‘I see.’ Julian went back to his tea, not making it any easier on the fellow. Though his smile was not obvious, Sebastian knew him well and could see the very faint curve in his lips as the silence stretched to awkwardness. Then he looked directly at Balard and said, ‘Was there something else you wished to say?’
‘Yes, Your Grace.’ Balard squirmed in his chair, reached for his tea and spilled a bit into the saucer, then set it down again.
‘You had best be about it, then,’ Julian said.
‘It is about Miss Fisk,’ he said, and took a deep breath. ‘I mean to propose to her tonight, at the Fallon ball.’ Then he added, ‘With your permission, of course.’
Sebastian took another sip of his coffee, staring down into the dregs and wishing he was not forced to witness this conversation he should have no part in. God, how he hated Balard. He hated every last neatly trimmed hair on his head, and each overly white tooth in his broad, innocent smile. He was rich and good-looking and earnest. And as flavourless as unripe cheese.
What he hated most of all was that there was no reason for Septon to refuse him. He would be an ideal husband for someone’s sister. Inoffensive. Neutered. No threat at all.
Julian knew it as well and could not resist toying with him. ‘To discuss it here is rather unconventional,’ he said, giving the fellow a sidelong look.
‘I could not wait a moment longer,’ Balard admitted. ‘The other night was delightful. I have not stopped thinking of it since.’
‘The evening was delightful?’ Julian said, raising his eyebrow.
‘And Cassandra was, as well.’
Julian frowned.
‘I mean, Miss Fisk,’ Balard corrected.
Julian paused again, allowing the tension to build. Then, he said, ‘Well, you will have no objection from me.’
Balard exhaled his held breath. ‘That is good to know.’
‘The matter is between you and my sister,’ Julian reminded him.
Sebastian stared into his empty cup. It was too soon. Far too soon. He had just begun to make headway with Cassie, only to have another man step in front of him. Balard was the sensible choice and she was a sensible girl.
‘I think I can handle Cassandra,’ said Balard with another earnest grin.
The disgusting display of self-confidence annoyed Sebastian all the more. It sounded as if he meant to brush any objections aside.
Even Julian seemed dubious. He gave Balard another thoughtful look. ‘When the moment comes, do not mention horses.’
‘No horses,’ Balard said, with an obedient nod.
Horses?Why would a man who had the undivided attention of Cassandra Fisk want to waste precious time talking of that?
‘If that is all?’ Julian gave Balard an expectant look.
‘Of course, Your Grace,’ he said with a bob of his head. ‘Thank you so much for sparing the time.’
‘Good luck,’ Julian added, then went back to his tea. Once the man was gone, he set the cup aside and called for the waiter, ‘Brandy.’ He glanced at Sebastian, then said, ‘Two.’
Sebastian looked at his watch. ‘It is before noon.’
Julian laughed. ‘When has that ever mattered to you? Besides, we have reason to celebrate.’
One of them did, perhaps. But at this point, there was little he could do but play along. So, he accepted the drink and offered his thanks.
Julian smiled and took a reverent sip. ‘Glad to have that over with.’
