Chapter 9
The following morning, William entered the breakfast room to find the household already assembled.
His mother occupied her customary place at the center of the table, one hand pressed dramatically to her temple as though the effort of remaining upright required considerable fortitude.
Across from her sat Augusta, serenely occupied with pouring tea, while Algernon had already buried himself behind that morning's newspaper, the untouched cup of coffee at his elbow having long since gone cold.
William paused in the doorway. “Good morning.”
His mother looked up with unmistakable suffering. “It most certainly is not.”
William smiled despite himself. “I was under the impression the sun had risen.”
“It has.” She sighed heavily. “Entirely without consideration for my headache.”
He accepted the footman's offer of coffee before taking his seat. “I wonder how such a tragedy came to pass.”
His mother fixed him with a meaningful look. “You.”
William blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“You are the cause of it.”
Augusta lowered her eyes to hide what looked suspiciously like the beginning of a smile.
William looked from one lady to the other. “I confess I should appreciate a fuller explanation before accepting responsibility.”
“You spent nearly the entire evening dancing with Lady Rosalind.”
“Not the entire evening.”
His mother gave him a pointed look. “You danced once with Lady Sophronia.”
“Precisely. Therefore, I danced with someone else.”
“One lady, William.” She waved a hand dismissively. “After I spent half the evening introducing you to every eligible young woman willing to stand still long enough.”
William reached calmly for the coffee pot. “Ah. So this is a matter of quantity.”
“It is a matter of effort.” She sighed again. “Do you know how exhausting it is attempting to arrange introductions for a son determined to thwart every one of them?”
“I can only imagine.”
“It has given me a dreadful headache.”
William poured his coffee. “I suspect the champagne may have contributed.”
His mother gasped. “William Sinclair!”
“I merely offer a medical opinion.”
“I had two glasses.”
“Three.”
She frowned. “Perhaps three.”
William stirred his coffee. “Fortunately, I do not believe you shall need concern yourself with arranging any further introductions.”
The room grew noticeably quieter.
Even Algernon lowered the newspaper by an inch.
His mother narrowed her eyes. “What have you done?”
William looked up. “I have decided to begin courting Lady Rosalind Carlisle.”
Silence.
His mother stared at him.
Then, quite suddenly, every trace of her headache seemed to disappear. “You have?”
“I have.”
A smile spread slowly across her face. “My dear boy…” She reached across the table as though she might actually embrace him then and there. “I always said she was an exceptional young lady.”
“I believe you have mentioned it once or twice.”
“At least a dozen.”
William smiled into his coffee.
Her delight lasted only a few moments before practicality reasserted itself. Then her expression became thoughtful. “William…”
“Yes?”
“You must consider this carefully.”
He looked up.
“She is precisely the sort of young woman I should wish for you.” She hesitated. “But the scandal surrounding her family remains fresh.”
“I am aware.”
“Offering friendship is one thing.” Her gaze searched his face. “Courting her is another.”
“I know.”
She studied him for another moment before her expression softened. “I suppose, if nothing else, it will place you in a better position to help Lady Rosalind search for her father.”
William inclined his head. “That is certainly one advantage.”
His mother looked across the table toward her eldest son. “Algernon, perhaps you ought to lend your brother whatever assistance you can. The poor girl should not have to bear such a burden alone.”
Algernon folded his newspaper with deliberate care before setting it aside. “I already told William I would assist in discovering what became of Lord Eastmere.”
His mother looked pleasantly surprised. “You did?”
“Yes.”
He reached for his coffee. “Though I may have to leave for Aldermere within the next few days for some estate business.”
William looked up. “Will you be gone long?”
Algernon shrugged lightly. “As long as necessary.”
William hesitated. “Perhaps I could accompany you.”
Algernon's eyes met his only briefly. “I think your attention would be better directed elsewhere.” A faint pause followed. “You have, after all, a promising courtship to begin.”
The words were courteous enough.
Yet they closed the conversation as effectively as a locked door.
William recognized the dismissal for what it was.
He had hoped, however briefly, that breakfast might become something more than another conversation conducted across an invisible distance.
Instead, the distance remained exactly where it had always been.
Only now, William found himself wondering whether it had existed far longer than he had ever realized.
Breakfast concluded not long afterward.
His mother, having recovered remarkably from her supposed headache, immediately retired to the morning room with Augusta to discuss callers, while Algernon disappeared toward the library with a sheaf of estate papers tucked beneath one arm.
William lingered only long enough to write a brief note.
Lady Rosalind,
If it would suit you, I should be delighted to meet you for tea and cake at Gunter’s this afternoon.
Yours,
William Sinclair
He sanded the letter, folded it neatly, and entrusted it to a footman with instructions that it be delivered to Carlisle house immediately.
Only then did he collect his gloves.
Gabriel was expecting him at Angelo's Academy within the hour, and experience had taught William that arriving late merely ensured his friend found even more opportunities to boast about his victories.
He had just reached the foot of the staircase when a voice stopped him.
“William.”
He turned.
Algernon stood a few steps above him, one hand resting lightly upon the banister. “I intend to call upon Lady Eastmere and Lady Rosalind.”
William blinked. “You do?”
His brother descended the remaining steps with his customary composure. “News of your courtship will spread quickly enough.” He adjusted one cuff. “It seems only proper that I should call to offer my congratulations.”
Beneath one arm he carried a flat parcel, neatly wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
William glanced toward it. “What's that?”
“A watercolor.”
“For Lady Rosalind?”
Algernon inclined his head. “A small gift.”
William looked at him in surprise. “I confess... I had not expected that.”
“No?”
“No.”
Algernon's expression remained perfectly composed. “Then perhaps you have mistaken me.”
A faint smile tugged at William's mouth. “I think it's an excellent idea.”
“So do I.”
The conversation might easily have ended there.
Instead, William found himself watching his brother walk down the hall, the carefully wrapped painting tucked beneath his arm.
The gesture surprised him.
More than that, it gave him hope.
Rosalind still believed either he or Algernon might somehow be responsible for Lord Eastmere's disappearance. Perhaps a visit like this would begin to change that.
The sooner Rosalind no longer felt compelled to suspect either of them, the sooner they might finally begin searching in the same direction instead of standing on opposite sides of the question.
That, William assured himself, was all he wanted.
He ignored the small voice that wondered why it mattered so much that Rosalind and his brother should come to understand one another.
***
William arrived at Angelo's Academy to find the familiar practice hall already echoing with the sharp ring of steel.
Morning sunlight spilled through the tall windows, glinting off polished foils as gentlemen practiced their lunges under the watchful eyes of the instructors.
The air smelled faintly of waxed floorboards, leather gloves, and honest exertion.
Gabriel stood near the center of the salle, idly swinging a fencing foil through the air while waiting for him.
“You're late,” he observed.
“By three minutes.”
“I had already begun mourning the friendship.”
William accepted a foil from the instructor, testing its balance before allowing himself a faint smile. “How touching.”
“It was.”
They saluted one another before the first exchange of blades rang sharply through the hall. As always, Gabriel attacked first, driving William immediately onto the defensive.
“I heard rather interesting gossip on my way here,” Gabriel remarked, lunging again.
“I can imagine.”
“It concerns a certain Lady Rosalind Carlisle.”
William answered the thrust with an easy parry but offered no reply.
Gabriel's grin broadened. “Ah. That expression confirms it.”
“My expression confirms nothing.”
“It confirms everything.”
Steel met steel again before William finally relented. “The rumors are true.”
Gabriel immediately lowered his foil. “You've actually begun courting her?”
“We have agreed to pretend that I am.”
Gabriel stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
William laughed, unable to help himself. “It is precisely what it sounds like.”
They resumed fencing as William explained the arrangement. Rosalind's damaged reputation. His mother's relentless campaign to marry him off. Their agreement to let London believe a courtship had begun while they quietly continued searching for Lord Eastmere together.
Gabriel listened with growing amusement, though it became increasingly difficult to determine whether he was concentrating more upon William's explanation or finding opportunities to score touches against him.
When William finally finished, Gabriel rested both hands upon the hilt of his foil and regarded him thoughtfully. “My dear fellow…”
“What?”
“You seem remarkably pleased for a man engaged in such an entirely practical arrangement.”
William frowned. “I am pleased because it solves several problems at once.”
“Of course it does.”
“It does.”
“I have no doubt.”
William narrowed his eyes. “You're insufferable.”
“So I've been told.”