“Well, I never knew I had a reason to be there.” Charlotte-Rose fluttered her eyelashes again, causing heat to creep up Fiona’s neck. Fi diverted her eyes.
Again, William snorted. “Don’t mind Charlie, McTavish. She flirts with everyone.”
He may have been trying to set Finley at ease, but it made Fiona flush deeper. Next to her, Edward cleared his throat. It was remarkable, really, the amount of expression he had in two quick coughs.
This was his displeased, this-conversation-needs-to-end cough. It was worlds away from his embarrassed, I-don’t-want-this-attention cough or his we-should-find-the-nearest-quiet-corner-to-kiss cough.
Judging by the exasperated look his sister threw in Edward’s direction, she was more than familiar with her brother’s range of throat clearances.
“So what are you doing here, McTavish? You’re far too interesting to be one of Wilde’s friends,” William said. He nudged her with the end of his cue stick and gestured toward the table.
“I’m in town for business.” Her throat tightened at the reminder of just how bad her day had been and her voice came out slightly strangled.
Edward shot a concerned look in her direction, one she ignored because, to be honest, it stung a little, this sudden glimpse into the life she may have had, had Edward not ended things. The Stirling siblings seemed rather kind and funny, and their playful banter was not something she’d ever experienced. It was something she would have enjoyed, had Edward not been the duke and their engagement not been a sham.
She took another shot, and did at least manage to hit the red ball, even if it went nowhere near the other white one.
Oblivious to any fraught undercurrents in the room, Will clapped her on the shoulder. “Smashing. You must join us at the Macklebury ball on Friday night. These soirees are as dull as my Latin professor, and with Charlotte out this season, I’m actually going to have to show up to the respectable ones.”
Edward’s frown deepened. “As Mr. McTavish said, he’s busy with business. I’m sure he appreciates your offer.”
Fiona was sure that if Edward spoke for her once more, she’d throttle him.
“In the evenings, though?” William asked. “What kind of business is done in the evenings? Except the business of finding a spouse.” William turned in her direction. “You’re not in that kind of business are you, chap?”
Fiona flushed. “Nae, I most assuredly am not.” She had her work, that was enough. A man would expect things from her, like her being home at a reasonable hour to cook instead of her working into the late nights. And any spouse found in London would be worse. Expectations of a common woman were onerous enough. Expectations of a lady were detestable.
“Capital. Then you can come with us Friday night.”
Fiona looked to Edward. It was clear he didn’t want her to attend. Whatever spark she’d felt between them the previous night had burned out. “I don’t think yer brother wants me there, but thank ye for the invitation. I should go wash up.”
***
There was a dejected slump to Fiona’s shoulders as she left the room, and the look Charlotte gave Edward was mildly reproachful. He felt bad, of course he did, but it was a terrible idea for Fiona and his siblings to engage with one another. If they were seen being friendly and her ruse was discovered, Charlotte and William would be considered guilty of deception by association.
And society was unforgiving when it felt wronged. If he had to hurt Fiona’s feelings a little to protect his family and their name, he would do it.
Charlotte shifted on the piano bench to watch William as he carefully lined up the three balls and struck them with marksman-like precision. Why Will couldn’t manage his own life with the same care and rigor he gave to billiards, Edward couldn’t fathom for the life of him.
“Finley seems like a lovely fellow,” Charlotte said. “Although I do not for the life of me understand what he’s doinghere.”
Edward couldn’t blame her. They rarely had guests in their London residence and when they did, those guests were not working men. “He’s a partner in Asterly, Barnesworth & Co.”
“As in, John Barnesworth? Your friend from school?” Charlotte asked, her eyes brightening. “You haven’t mentioned him in an age.”
Edward hedged. He and John had been friends, until John had discovered his affair with Fiona. Now they were barely on speaking terms.
“Yes, that Barnesworth. And Finley is here because I’m doing Asterly a favor.” It wasn’t untrue. If Asterly had known of Fiona’s assault charges and that the only way to keep her from prison was to have her as a guest, he would have insisted Edward step in.
William snorted. “Because Asterly married Amelia for you after you cast her aside and now you owe him one?” William’s voice may have been light, but the sharp bite of his words was intentional.
Charlotte frowned as she always did when her brothers fought, which was why Edward insisted William reside at Wildeforde House whenever Charlotte was visiting, so she wouldn’t know the extent of her brothers’ estrangement.
“Asterly is my friend and friends do favors.”
“Well”—Charlotte clapped her hands together—“I, for one, am looking forward to getting to know him. My interest is quite piqued.”
Edward ran a hand through his hair. His sister could be tenacious when she’d taken a shine to something. “I’d prefer it if you both kept as far from Finley as possible. He’s a nice enough lad but doesn’t belong here.”
