When he had been a bachelor living by his own rules, he had never needed to entertain such tedium, yet this was something all young ladies of thetonmust endure in order to find a husband.
Fortunately, Lydia’s face was alight with excitement and joy, and she clutched Maxwell’s arm as they entered the house.
“I had so much fun!”
He nodded at her. “Did you enjoy dancing?”
“Exceedingly. Almack’s is so very elegant. Did you not think so? I would goeverynight if I could.” She beamed, leaving Maxwell to privately thank his lucky stars that Almack’s opening schedule made such a wish impossible to grant.
Joyce curtsied to him in that insufferably proud way she had. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Come now, Joyce,” he said, biting back his irritation. “You need not use my title every opportunity you get.”
She inclined her head, her expression unfreezing by a degree.
Although she was undoubtedly grateful that he had offered to take them in to sponsor Lydia’s first Season, he also knew that looking at him was painful, in a way.
Maxwell’s brother, Christopher, ought to have inherited the title. And really, he ought to have married Joyce—he would have done, if their father had allowed such a thing.
“You have known me long enough,” Maxwell added.
Once he had inherited the title and his estate, he had sought out Joyce and Lydia, knowing it was what his brother would have wanted. She had been forced to marry a much older viscount to protect herself and her illegitimate daughter; Maxwell had offered her aid over the years.
This was merely the latest in a long line of other things he had done to assist.
“Well, after all, Iamthe wife of yourdear friend,” Joyce said, drifting gracefully across the room to drape languidly over a sofa.
Maxwell’s teeth snapped together. He could hardly reveal to thetonthat Joyce had been his brother’s lover, telling everyone that he had known the old viscount had been the easiest way to explain their connection.
“No one has questioned our story,” he said.
“Only because no one of that generation has cared to ask why such a man might have known a duke like you,” she said, and placed a hand over her face. “Regardless, Lydia and I are grateful. Are we not, Lydia?”
Lydia placed a hand on his arm, looking up into his face with childlike adoration. Ever since he had first stepped into her life as an uncle figure, she had viewed him with touching, if misplaced, admiration. She believed there was no problem in the world he could not fix and believed with equal sincerity that he deserved only good things.
He did not have the heart to disabuse her of that notion.
“Didyouhave a good time this evening?” she asked hopefully.
He didn’t want to lie, but to admit the truth would be crushing to a girl such as her.
“I took pleasure in watching you enjoy yourself,” he told her. “It has been a long time since I found dancing so enjoyable.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Perhaps that is because you have yet to find the right partner.”
“Perhaps.” He tweaked her curl. “Do you think you found the right partner?”
“Oh, no, but I had a lovely time.” A frown touched her brows. “May I ask you a question?”
He suppressed a sigh.
Here we go.
Lydia had an insatiable curiosity about him and the life he led outside of her experience. “Of course,” he said.
“Why did you not marry Lady Thalia? When we met her the other day, she seemed lovely and engaged, you animatedly!”
Lady Thalia.
