“Was your evening enjoyable?” she asked.
Based on the paleness of his face, he seemed to be suffering a headache in addition to being tired.
“What I can remember of it,” he said with a half-hearted smile. “You won’t hear me admitting that to Aunt Frieda.”
She shook her head, unable to imagine indulging in alcohol to that extent. It sounded terrible. If she wanted to set aside what was happening in her life, she need only sink into the pages of a good book. “I assume you were out quite late.”
“I returned as dawn broke.” He walked to the window to peer out.
“Did the Duke stay out that late as well?” She supposed she should know if such outings were part of his normal behavior. If so, would he continue them after he married? She hoped not.
“Trentworth departed much sooner. He’s becoming quite the bore these days. His cousin, Viscount Delbert, stayed longer than I did.”
Eliza couldn’t deny a sense of relief. One thing she knew beyond a doubt was that she didn’t want a marriage like her parents. That was a condition on which she refused to budge.
What had the three men done? Her curiosity got the better of her. “Play cards, did you?”
“Yes.”
“Were wagers placed?”
Winston frowned at the question. “Yes. Why?”
“Did you win?”
“More often than not.” He returned from the window to sit in a nearby chair. “Do not worry. I haven’t gambled away my inheritance or your dowry if that’s what you’re wondering.”
In truth, the thought hadn’t crossed her mind, but perhaps it should’ve. “That isn’t likely to happen, is it?”
“Definitely not. I have no desire to be forced to find a wealthy bride.” He shuddered at the thought.
Eliza nodded. “Good. I prefer you find someone we both like without worrying over whether she has a fortune.” Perhaps one of the ladies in the literary league would make him a good wife and inspire him to be more. She would consider the idea again after she’d been a member of the league longer.
“You’re not going to start nagging me about marrying, too, are you?” Winston studied her with narrowed blood-shot eyes.
“Nothing of the sort.” She knew from experience that telling Winston what he should do would have the opposite effect. “I’m sure you aren’t in any hurry to take a wife. Doing so would be a terrible responsibility and so inconvenient.”
She picked up her tatting to suggest she considered the subject closed.
“It would be.” Winston nodded. “I’m pleased you realize that.”
“Most definitely. Besides, you just aren’t ready for marriage.” She kept her attention on her ivory shuttle, creating a ring with the thread. With practiced ease, she looped the thread over her opposite hand and inserted the shuttle through the ring before risking a glance at him. “Perhaps in a few more years.”
“A few more years?” Winston seemed uncertain whether he should be offended by her remark. “How do you mean?”
She returned her focus to the tatting and made another ring. “From your letters, not that you wrote often, I gained the impression that you prefer your life with its...simple pleasures, not so different than Father.”
He scoffed, looking around the room. “I’m not anything like Father.”
She smiled. “Not at all. It’s just that you spend your time in a similar way.” That should be enough on the topic to stir the pot. Now for the next issue she wanted to address. “Will you be attending the upcoming charity ball?”
He paused, his mind obviously still on the previous conversation. “I haven’t decided. Why?”
“I intend to go and thought it would be nice if you were there as it’s my first ball since I’ve returned home.”
Winston scowled. “Why do I need to be there? Isn’t Aunt Frieda going? Surely, there’s no need for both of us to go.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Perfect. She didn’t want him there because he would question any attention Philip paid her, and Philip would be less likely to do so with Winston watching.
