“There it is,” Owen’s eyes snapped wide open.
“What do you mean?” she asked innocently.
“It is not a social event,” he told her. “It is a market for marriage. Everyone there will be buying or selling something: fortunes, titles, connections.”
“And you,” she said calmly, “have a very great deal to offer.”
Owen let out a short breath. “I have no intention of marrying.”
“Then you may simply attend.”
“And be paraded through the room like a prize horse?” he returned.
“If necessary.”
Harrow let out a quiet laugh, quickly disguised as a cough. Owen shot him another look.
“You find this amusing.”
“I find it inevitable,” Harrow said through a chuckle. “Which is not quite the same thing.”
Owen dragged a hand briefly through his hair.
“These things are absurd,” he said. “Frivolous … pointless.”
“They are part of life,” his mother replied.
“How am I to concern myself with dancing,” he said quietly, “when there is still a war being fought? When men are still dying?”
The words fell heavier than he intended. Even Harrow did not answer. His mother, however, remained composed.
“We are in London,” she reminded him of the one thing he was desperate to forget. “And in London, we must attend to London things.”
Owen looked at her, feeling the prickle of frustration.
“And the rest of the world?”
“Will continue,” she replied. “As it always has.”
“We cannot live our lives entirely in memory,” Harrow spoke then. “Nor in obligation to what has passed. The men we lost,” he paused, choosing his words with care, “they would not wish us to stand still on their account.”
Owen said nothing.
“They would want life to go on,” Harrow continued quietly. “In all its forms, even the ridiculous ones.”
A faint, almost reluctant smile touched his mouth.
“Especially the ridiculous ones.”
Owen let out a slow breath. He understood the sentiment. He did. Harrow had always possessed a way of framing things that made them … bearable. Still, that did not mean he agreed.
His mother, sensing the shift, moved to secure her victory.
“In any case,” she announced, “it is quite immaterial. As I already said, I have accepted the invitation, on behalf of all three of us.”
Harrow bowed his head slightly. “I am honored to be included.”
“You would be,” Owen frowned.
