Chapter Two
“Must you appear so disgruntled? It’s a ball, Phin. It’s supposed to be fun.”
Phineas looked down at his older sister, intentionally deepening his frown. “Did you have to invite so many people?”
The Countess of Byrne gave him a horrified look of shock before she realized he was teasing, then she laughed and tapped his arm with her fan.
Rather smartly, in fact, leaving a bit of a sting behind, as she no doubt intended.
“Yes. It wouldn’t be a crush if I hadn’t.
And as the first major ball of the Season, it isn’t a success unless it’s a crush. ”
Phineas wasn’t sure he agreed with that logic, but Maggie was rarely reasonable when it came to popularity and the haute ton.
“Remind me again why I allowed you to browbeat me into attending,” he asked dryly.
He knew his lack of enthusiasm would irritate her and decided she deserved it for the fan thing.
“Because it’s the first time in years you’ve been in Town for the Season,” his sister replied curtly. “And because you love your niece and wouldn’t want to withhold your support on her first year out.”
Phineas followed his sister’s gaze to the dance floor where her daughter, Delia, twirled about on the arm of a dashing young buck. The girl’s face was full of delighted enchantment.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he answered earnestly.
Maggie’s husband, the Earl of Byrne, had died suddenly just over two years ago.
And even though Phineas was ten years younger than his sister, and she’d never admit it, she needed his support during her first daughter’s social debut as much as his niece did.
Maggie could be rather single-minded and stubborn, but Phineas loved her anyway and he adored his niece and nephews.
“You know,” Maggie began thoughtfully and Phineas tensed for the inevitable.
She was using an overly casual tone that indicated she was about to try to manage him in some way.
“While you’re attending these lovely social events as our distinguished escort, you may as well consider looking for a bride yourself. ”
There it was.
His sister had been urging him to marry for the last five years. He’d hoped, now that Delia was being introduced to society, she would redirect her attentions. It seemed she had plenty to spare for both of them.
“Don’t go making that face, Phin,” the countess admonished.
“What face?”
“The one that suggests you’d like to take a reckless leap off the nearest balcony rather than consider giving any attention to your inescapable duty. If you allow yourself, you might find a way to enjoy the best ball of the season.”
“It’s the first ball of the season.”
“And it shall be heralded as the best,” she assured. “I have no doubt there will be countless young ladies eager for a dance with the dashing Viscount Waring.”
Phineas made a face. “I’ve no intention of dancing.”
“Oh, yes you will!” Maggie’s voice arced into a higher octave. “What will people say if my own brother doesn’t dance at my ball?”
“I doubt anyone will notice.”
“You are the Viscount Waring. You’re young, wealthy,” she shrugged and gave a sisterly smirk, “some would say passably handsome, and—most importantly of all—unmarried. Trust me, they’ll notice.”
“Will they also notice that I’ve no interest in taking a wife?” he countered.
“Nonsense.”
It wasn’t nonsense. And someday his sister would have to accept that Phin had no intention of marrying.
Ever. He liked his life the way it was: adventurous and free.
It was difficult enough to manage the estates under his care while traveling the way he did, the idea of leaving a wife and children behind each time he ventured to a new continent did not appeal to him in the slightest. Not because he abhorred family.
To the contrary. But he knew that if faced with a choice between adventure and domesticity…
he would choose adventure every time. And he couldn’t in good conscience essentially abandon someone he cared for over and over again.
Best to avoid that scenario altogether.
“Maggie, I didn’t come to town to be thrown like a sacrifice into the feeding pit of matchmaking mamas and desperate debs.”
“Goodness, Phin,” his sister exclaimed, waving her fan in front of her face. “The way you phrase things…”
“I’m just making it clear—”
“Yes, I know,” she interrupted with an apologetic smile. “You’ve no interest in marriage. You’re only here to support Delia. And we are very grateful for that.”
There was a hint of sadness in her voice that she was clearly trying to hide. A pang of remorse shot through him.
He knew she still grieved for her husband and presenting her daughter to society without the girl’s father by their side was likely not something she’d ever imagined having to do.
With Delia’s brother, the heir to the earldom, being only twelve years old, Phineas was the closest male relative of age.
Though his sister had taken the reins of running her household and her late husband’s estates well in hand, there were a few responsibilities that had become his.
He’d admittedly been remiss in that duty having been off-continent for most of the last two years.
He may hate London society, but he loved his family and he’d made a promise to his sister.
As his brother-in-law had settled a very handsome dowry on his daughter, there would likely be fortune hunters and less honorable men potentially vying for her attention.
The responsibility of protecting her from such unconscionable interest was one he took seriously—no matter how much it would entrench him in the London social scene.
Phin’s presence assured any hopeful suitors that, although Delia no longer had her father, she still had her uncle to protect her interests.
“But I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t wish to have a wife to keep your home while you spend all those months abroad. You’re not getting any younger, Phin,” the countess added breezily.
Forcefully reminding himself how much he truly loved his family, he countered, “I’m only twenty-eight.”
“You’ll be thirty in just fifteen months.
It’s your duty to marry and produce an heir.
If there is one thing dear George’s untimely death has taught me, Phin, it’s that life is short and utterly unpredictable.
” Her voice thickened. “Don’t hold off on what’s most important or you may find yourself running out of time.
” She cleared her throat, obviously trying to dispel the emotion that had gathered there.
“Besides, you can’t spend your best years in the middle of a desert or lost in some jungle somewhere. ”
“I don’t get lost,” he retorted with mock affront, before admitting with a smirk, “not anymore.”
His sister rolled her eyes.
“And you really don’t want me on the dance floor if you want your ball to be a success. My dancing skills are abhorrent.”
The countess laughed at that. “Nice try, Phin, but that’s a lie.
I shall let up on my harping, however. For now.
You came when we needed you.” Her voice faded and the humor slipped from her eyes as her gaze stretched toward the dance floor.
She added in a whisper, “I wouldn’t have been able to do this alone. ”
Phineas turned to see his niece—wearing a broad smile and flushed cheeks—being escorted back to her mother’s side by her dance partner.
Nearly an exact replica of the countess, with the same golden hair, green eyes, petite stature, and sparkling manner, Delia was already proving herself to be quite popular.
And rightfully so. From the day she’d been born, the girl had been charming everyone she met. Her Uncle Phin had been no exception.
Once her dance partner bowed and took his leave, the girl released a heavy breath. “Thank goodness the musicians are taking an extended break. I don’t think I could dance another step right now.”
“Be grateful, my dear,” her mother chided gently. “Dancing allows a perfect opportunity to get to know these young gentlemen better.”
“I don’t see how,” Delia replied. “Unless it’s a waltz, of course, you’re forever stepping away or twirling about your partner, making conversation tricky and cumbersome.”
“Good point.”
Maggie gave Phineas a dark look for his input before continuing to address her daughter. “There are things to be gleaned from a dance partner that do not require talking. Nuances of character you can decipher if you’re clever enough.”
Delia sighed. “Then I don’t think I’m clever enough.”
“Nonsense,” Maggie assured while Phineas held back a smile.
“All I gleaned was whether they smelled like horses or tobacco or if they used too much pomade in their hair.”
As the countess took a deep breath and appeared to be counting in silence, Delia snuck a quick wink toward Phin. She was teasing her poor mother.
He winked back in full approval.
“Come along, then,” Maggie said, linking her arm through her daughter’s. “Since the musicians are taking a break, we shall stroll about the room. You too, Phin,” she ordered over her shoulder just when he thought he might get a break of his own.
They’d only made it a quarter of the way around the perimeter of the ballroom when Maggie veered sharply to one side.
Peering over her head, Phin noted a gentleman near his own age standing with a stiff and unapproachable demeanor despite being surrounded by an inordinate number of ladies swathed in pastel silks coyly waving their fans.
“Heir to a dukedom,” his sister muttered quietly to Delia before they reached the gentleman.
Well, that explained the level of female interest the man inspired. And his haughty manner. No doubt, he was at the top of his sister’s list of potential matches for her daughter, as most future and present dukes would be.