“And how are you enjoying London?”
“Well, it’s no match for New York, of course,” Hank Junior said with a shrug. “But it has its charms.” His gaze then flitted to Freddie, who was by the hearth chatting with Will and wearing a periwinkle gown just as flattering as the one on Alex, though with a much lower neckline.
Phoebe could practically hear Alex trying not to roll her eyes.
“So, Miss Atkinson,” Hank Junior began in an overfamiliar tone that had already begun to grate. “Do you work for your dear old dad too?”
“No, I—”
Her father barked a laugh. “Phoebe insists on working as a schoolteacher.”
“And we areallvery proud of her,” her mother added with a smile before shooting her husband a chiding look.
“My grandmother was a schoolteacher before she married,” Mr. Ericson said approvingly. “A damned hard job it was too. Good on you for doing your part.”
Phoebe raised her eyebrows, both at the unexpected curse and the man’s admiration. “Thank you.”
“I think it’s always better for young people to strike out on their own rather than ride on the family coattails into a position they aren’t qualified for,” Mr. Ericson added.
Alex stiffened beside her while Hank Junior simply rolled his eyes and took a sip of champagne. Phoebe looked at her father, waiting for him to respond to the obvious dig at Alex, but all he did was grunt.
“I assure you, no one in our family is riding on anything,” Phoebe said with a dangerous smile. “Especially my sister.”
Mr. Ericson’s white eyebrows rose. “Oh, of course,” he quickly amended as his cheeks turned red. Her father shot her a scowl that Phoebe pretended not to notice.
Will chose that moment to join them. He had shaved off the beard, she noted with a pang of disappointment.
“Good evening, Miss Phoebe,” he said politely, as if he hadn’t been in her bed only days ago. “You are looking well.”
Phoebe swallowed hard as her heart tried to make an escape up her throat. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
Hank Junior let out a laugh. “Is that what you’re supposed to go by? I get all the rules about your fancy titles confused. In Americaevery man ismister, unless you’re in the service and have actuallydonesomething with yourself,” he added with that smirk Phoebe was starting to hate.
Will tilted his head. “Your Graceis the formal address, yes, but seeing as we are all friends here, please call me Margrave.”
Hank Junior grinned. “All right, Margrave it is then. Tell me, are you one of those broke fellows who has to marry one of our dollar princesses to fix the roof of your leaky castle?”
Will took a slow sip of his whiskey. “I am not,” he replied, as if the offensive question was incredibly boring. “My predecessor was a forward-thinking fellow, not a broke one. While others refused to give up their bloated properties after grain prices went flat in the seventies, he sold off nearly everything that wasn’t entailed and put the profits back into the duchy. The remaining estates are now self-supported.”
Mr. Ericson raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”
“I am very lucky,” Will acknowledged. “Most men in my position inherit titles that come with massive debts and crumbling estates. But even then, few are willing to make the changes necessary to survive. My father was a country barrister, not a duke, so I do not have the same attachment to the trappings of the aristocracy.”
Hank Junior gave a thoughtful nod. “Interesting. I didn’t know that could happen.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Atkinson said. “Will had no idea he was even in line to inherit. It was the most wonderful surprise,” she added with a laugh.
Phoebe watched as Will’s polite smile tightened slightly. She probably wouldn’t have noticed the subtle change if she hadn’t grown so familiar with his face these last weeks.
“My God,” Mr. Ericson marveled. “How old were you?”
“Eighteen. It isn’t a terribly common occurrence, but every now and then a man has a title dropped onto his lap,” Will explained, that easy smile returning once again. “I also had the great fortune to know this clever lady here,” he said as he raised his glass to Alex. “And she has helped me invest the dukedom’s profits wisely.”
Phoebe’s chest burned with pleasure as Alex tilted her head. When she met Will’s eyes this time, she couldn’t help giving him a beaming smile.
“I understand you enjoy the theater, Mr. Ericson,” Mrs. Atkinson chimed in. “Have you been to Covent Garden yet?”
The lady of the house continued to steer the conversation toward safer waters, until Munson announced dinner. Upon entering the dining room, Phoebe was stunned to find herself seated on her father’s left side with Alex directly across from her.
