The earl shrugged, unconcerned. “They can go to a workhouse.”
Will’s jaw hardened. “You will only push them out onto the streets, where they will lose what little protections they have.”
“Then perhaps they should have made better choices.”
“Interesting. I didn’t realize you had been given thechoiceto inherit an earldom,” Will snapped before he could think twice. Lord Fairbanks stared at him wide-eyed, rendered speechless for once. “Excuse me,” Will growled. “I believe I am due to waltz with your daughter.”
As he approached Lady Gwen and Lord Whitby, Will did his best to maintain a passive expression, but his thoughts were a riot. Phoebe had been right. The bill would do nothing to actually curb vice or help those in need. It was simply another way to punish the most vulnerable for the sins of the many. He could not be a part of such bald hypocrisy. But that would not put a stop to the bill, either. And though that sharp remark had felt damned good in the moment, he may have just ruined his chance to influence the earl. That wasn’t at all like him.
But it was a hell of a lot like Phoebe.
Will gave himself a little shake. He would figure out a way to solve this later. Now he needed to do some wooing.
“My lady,” Will said with a smooth bow before nodding to the baron. “Lord Whitby.”
“Your Grace,” the lad muttered with barely veiled contempt.Will had long grown accustomed to the superficial deference offered by men like Whitby, who saw him as nothing more than a very lucky upstart.
If only they knew what Will would have done to give it all back.
“Thank you for the pleasure of your company, my lady,” Whitby said as he released Lady Gwen. “I hope we can repeat the experience againverysoon.”
Will narrowed his eyes at the bold remark but managed to keep his head this time.
“And I as well,” Lady Gwen replied with far more grace than Whitby deserved. Still, the young man didn’t even try to hide the wistful look on his face before leaving the floor
“You seem to have made quite the impression on Lord Whitby,” Will said blandly as he took Lady Gwen in his arms, all while reminding himself that the ability to make someone feel wanted even when they were being dismissed was a gift—and a valuable skill for a duchess to possess.
She let out a delicate laugh and patted his shoulder. “Not to worry. His lordship is only a friend.”
“I wasn’t worried,” he answered truthfully. The fact that Whitby wouldn’t dare act so brazenly in front of her other suitors was another matter.
Lady Gwen preened a little as she flashed him a coy smile. “Your Grace.”
But as he stared down at her, Will couldn’t help wondering if she thought him beneath her as well. Though he may have inherited a title, for many that still didn’t excuse his middling roots. She could simply be going along with their courtship to please her father—or because she didn’t have a choice. It was a disquieting realization. And one he should have considered sooner. Shecertainlylookedcontented enough, but then would he even be able to tell? In any case, Will would need to ascertain the truth before they were betrothed, as he had no desire to force her hand no matter what the earl wanted.
In the meantime he should tell her to at least call him Margrave. Yet the words remained caught in his throat. It was hard to imagine any woman but Phoebe addressing him that way now.
Damn.
“What were you and Papa discussing? He… he didn’t look pleased.”
Lady Gwen’s question was asked lightly enough, but Will noticed the tightness around her eyes. She worried that they had quarreled about her.
“Only some business about an upcoming bill,” he assured her.
She immediately relaxed and flashed him a genuine smile half the men in the room would kill for. “Of course.”
As Will took her through a turn, he observed several guests admiring her form. She was dressed in a silver gown covered in gold embroidery. The very picture of sophistication and good breeding.
“Do you ever talk with him about his work?”
It could be nice to have a confidant at home. Someone who understood the complexities of Parliament. Someone who would be supportive rather than simply point out all the ways he was wrong.
The image of Phoebe with that disapproving little frown of hers forced its way into his head—and Will forced it right back out.
“Heavens no,” the young lady said with another laugh. “I think politics are better left to men like you.”
He instantly pictured Phoebe rolling her eyes. “I see.”
