Chapter 3 - William #3
Thomas’s eyes widened fractionally. "I find you sometimes maddening as a friend; I shudder to imagine you as a brother-by-law. Besides, which of your sisters would you consign to a lifetime with me? You know all my secrets and you've seen me at my most awkward stages."
William frowned. Thomas was right. Though he respected Beaufort very highly now, he doubted that he would be able to watch one of his sisters walk down the aisle to marry a man whom he'd once had to haul home, weeping, from a pub in Chestershire.
That night, Thomas had loudly sung odes to the local barmaid before casting up his accounts on the cobblestones before the front door.
"No," Thomas continued. "While I appreciate your offer, I fear that I am off of the marriage mart for the time being. As you say, I need to learn this lesson. It was a narrow miss. I’m terrified of ending up married to one such as she.
And as it's only a matter of time before Daisy finds out that I’m back in London and follows me here. I must plan my next escape route."
William propped an ankle on his opposite knee.
"All of my homes are open to you, of course.
She might be able to follow you to your estate, but she would never think to look at someone else's house. My servants are extremely discreet, and if you wanted to pass any amount of time, you would be more than welcome. Buttermere is lovely this time of year. Or you could escape to the seaside at Northumberland. Though it’s bound to be cold and windy, it also holds a certain charm. "
His friend's eyes lit with interest. "Thank you. I very well might take you up on that."
"I’ll send you a letter tomorrow with my seal, allowing you entrance to any one of my houses. It would do the servants good to knock the dust off. The houses are always meant to be ready and fully staffed, so if there are any problems at one of them, you'd do me a service by letting me know."
He knew that it was often difficult for Beaufort to accept help of any kind.
During their long friendship, William had learned to reframe every offer as if Thomas were the one doing him a favor.
Not that he was lying, per se, but he trusted his staff implicitly and didn’t think they needed the supervision of unexpected guests.
Many of them were sailors who’d been hurt on one of his ships, and their families.
Although sailing offered the possibility for fame and just a bit of fortune, it also had a devilishly high rate of injury.
Those men were loyal, their families too.
They would welcome Beaufort as if it were William himself stopping in.
"What about you?" Thomas suddenly asked.
William blinked. He'd been thinking of his sisters and their plight once more, doing the math to see whether he had a house for each of them, should they not find husbands eventually.
"What about me?"
"When will it be your turn to find a wife?"
He chuckled and swirled his glass. "I doubt anyone is going to want to marry a sea dog such as myself. You know how the ton views trade."
Thomas canted his head. "I think the sentiment is going to shift. You know that Lord Carrol just married his eldest daughter off to some American? The man was only half as wealthy as you, and not a noble bone in his body. Money speaks nearly as loudly as titles these days."
"I have eight other marriages to attend to first."
Thomas sighed and shook his head. "No one could fault you for your sense of duty. But whether or not your sisters find attractive matches doesn't depend completely upon you."
"I'm well aware of that, or it would already be done."
"Yet you act as if their personal happiness were your sole responsibility."
"On the contrary, it is my responsibility as the eldest brother to give them the chance at it. Whether or not they'll be able to take it…" He shrugged. "That's beyond my control."
"I do believe that's the first time you've ever admitted that anything is beyond your control."
"Perhaps, but control has served me well."
He wasn't lying. It was control alone that had kept him from striking Richard across the jaw all those years ago.
Even now, at the thought of him and what he'd done to their family, his grip tightened on the arm of his chair briefly. It was probably for the best he’d passed, or William might have wrung his neck himself.
"It isn't your fault," Thomas said, leaning forward. "You don’t have to make up for what happened. The head of the family told you to go; you went. You can hardly be considered to blame for what he did."
"You mistake me, friend," William said. "I don't hold myself to blame for that, not at all. As you said, I was sent away and told to make my own way."
"Which you did with mild success."
He exhaled a sardonic laugh. "It's a wonder I can fit through the doorway with you here puffing up my head."
"I'm just saying." Thomas gestured at William's person. "If someone had told me back when we were young what you would make of yourself, I never would have believed them."
"Thank you?" His forehead wrinkled.
Thomas laughed.
“Back to the point—I don't hold myself responsible for what occurred while I was gone. But as the current head of my family, I feel it’s only right that my sisters have what they were deprived of, now that I’m able to give it to them.”
“Quite right.”
“And if they don't find anyone in England they want to marry, then perhaps I’ll do as Lord Carrol did and send them en masse to New York. Or maybe I’ll just start a route from New York to London and import all the wealthy bachelors so that I may inspect them here at my leisure."
Thomas laughed. “No doubt you’d make a fortune on such a scheme. Perhaps you could find yourself an American bride while you’re at it.”
“Why on earth would I want that?”
“Are you sure there’s never been anyone?” Thomas pressed, his eyes narrowing. “I could have sworn last time you came to London someone caught your eye.”
A flash of blonde hair, luminous skin, a pert nose, and big blue eyes fringed in dark lashes entered his mind, but he shook it away. The lady in question certainly was married by now. Besides, he didn’t even know her name.
“No.”
He’d long ago cultivated the ability to tell a falsehood with a straight face. Unfortunately, it was an aspect of business he’d had to acquire. But perhaps it wasn’t a full falsehood. After all, they’d only spent a few moments together in the gardens at a ball.
That evening had been a debacle from beginning to end.
He’d wanted to get Claire alone long enough to explain what their brother had done.
Unfortunately, Richard had chosen that very evening to end his reclusive streak—he’d accompanied her to the Whittakers’ ball.
William hadn’t been able to get Claire alone that evening, and his ship had left on the early-morning tide.
All of that was history now, including the blonde from that moonlit garden.