“Found you at last!”
Lawrence clapped his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Sorry I’m late. Our father had me attend a meeting on his behalf. It was an interminable to-and-fro, but I believe our interests have been upheld. Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair.”
Before the couple could respond beyond mere civilities, Lawrence gestured to William. “Walk with me, Little Brother.”
William hated when Lawrence called him that. Yes, William was younger by several years, but he was a full grown man now, and of age. Being called “little” only reminded William that he was inferior to Lawrence in many ways. No wife. No children. No true income. And, most importantly, no reputation for being “a good sort.” While William had flirted and caroused, Lawrence had worked at the bank with their father, emulating Marcus Colein his role as provider and all round decent fellow. And, like their father, Lawrence enjoyed giving a well-intentioned scolding.
“Why are you not dancing?” Lawrence began.
This was not a typical starting point, and William was, for the moment, caught off guard. “You think I should be dancing? Is it not more your usual fare to chastise me for havingtoo muchfun?”
“Come now, William, we both know enjoyment is not the real purpose of a dance.”
“It isn’t?”
“Do you think these ladies’ families spend their money on dresses and shoes simply for their daughters to amuse themselves of an evening?”
“Oh.” William’s voice flattened. “That.”
“Yes,that, William. Why are you here if not to further your prospects through marriage?”
William bit his tongue. He had any number of honest answers. He had come to see Miss Lockhart and make amends. He was enjoying the company of others, without being expected to play the role of a charming rogue. He wanted to dance and laugh before he was shot apart by cannon fire. Which one would his brother like to hear?
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said instead.
“No,” said Lawrence with a slow, longsuffering sigh, “I probably wouldn’t.”
“But you can tell Father you did your best.”
“Hmph. I would rather tell him you are doing yours.”
“Tell him what you like.”
Lawrence grew quiet. Then, as if he had made up his mind about something, he took his brother by the elbow and steered him through a nearby doorway leading, as it happened, to the card room. A few heads looked up, but the two gentlemen weresoon forgotten. No doubt the card players had high stakes at play.
“I thought you were done with Miss Lockhart,” Lawrence said in a low voice.
“I am. I was. I…”
“Well, from where I stood earlier, you could not take your eyes from her.”
William felt his neck grow hot. “Were you spying on me?”
“No, I was looking for you. And when I saw you, I also noticed you barely moved, considering the way your gaze was riveted. Not to mention the range of emotions that flitted across your face.”
“I was making sure she was all right.”
“And why should she not have been?”
“She had an encounter with Lieutenant Foyle.”
“That blackguard!” Lawrence ran his fingers through his sandy-blond hair. “What bad luck.”
“Precisely,” agreed William. “He had since let her be, supposedly off to play cards. I see he is over there.” William gestured with his chin. “He is so thoroughly foxed, he can barely keep his head up.”
“At least Miss Lockhart is well away from him.”
“Yes.”
