Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“ A ball?” Ian asked his friend as they walked down the street on their way to the nearest gentleman’s club. “So soon? You cannot mean it.”
“I do,” Zachary said.
Ian laughed in disbelief. “God, I thought the social season had just ended.”
They had yet to find the time to go to the gentleman’s club since returning from their travels, and after having to spend time dueling with Lady Cecilia over pall-mall and dinner, the duke was most looking forward to speaking to his friend in an easy, familiar environment. Somewhere where he could find out the true nature of Zachary’s intentions towards young Miss Banfield, once and for all.
Not that he truly had any doubts. He knew Zachary, after all. He knew very well that Zachary would come to his senses as soon as he found another young lady—preferably someone married, widowed, or both—to dally with, rather than the impressionable young friend of his sister.
And, of course, he wanted, more than anything else, to prove Lady Cecilia wrong.
“Quite the opposite,” Zachary said, winking at a pretty young lady they passed. There is my best friend , Ian thought, immediately put at ease by the returning of the world to its natural order. He gave an easy smile to the young lady’s friend, his eyes running up and down her silk-clad curves. The two women giggled as they passed. “In fact, the social season has only barely begun.”
Ian let out a mock groan, tilting his head back. “Oh, good lord. Is it not enough to have to deal with the voracious mamas and husband-seeking young ladies of London year-round? I had grown used to the comparative peace and quiet of the Continent.”
“Ah, cheer up, Harwick,” Zachary said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You have managed to resist the marriage mart up until now. I have no doubts you’ll find success in that endeavor for many seasons to come.”
Ian furrowed his brow. “I know not whether to be reassured or insulted.”
“Oh, both, for certain.” Zachary smiled. “But yes, the season is only just beginning. You cannot be too surprised. It is, after all, why Miss Banfield has returned; you cannot imagine a young lady would leave London on the precipice of her debut. And, indeed, that is why her mother has seen fit to throw the ball.”
Ian looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Oh?” he asked, tone poised to gently tease his friend. “You know, for a man who I have never known to take interest in the season even once, you seem to suddenly know quite a great deal about the inner workings of the matter. And the inner workings of the Banfield house, in particular.”
Zachary’s cheeks went slightly pink. “Ah,” he said, before looking down and clearing his throat. “Yes, well. My mother and sister were discussing the matter at breakfast this morning. You know, ladies. When they talk. Difficult to get them to change the subject to anything else.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Ian’s smirk grew to a full grin. He shrugged facing forward. “And I am certain you weren’t listening rapt to every word. You never cease to surprise me, Lindbury. I never knew it, but it turns out you are quite the little gossip.” He paused, chuckling and shaking his head. “Though perhaps I should have known, given what I know of your sister.”
Zachary laughed at that. “Oh, do not tell me you are still sore about that night, so long ago? Cecilia meant no harm, nor did she wish to eavesdrop.”
Ian tilted his head, unconvinced. “I would be certain she meant no harm, if she did not seem so firmly to dislike me.”
“Well, you can’t expect anything else from Celie,” Zachary said firmly. “She has always been a woman of her own mind, and an annoying little twit, to boot. She likely just sees you as an extension of me. Someone else she can needle at.” He sighed. “It is a wonder she managed to catch a best friend as sweet as Miss Banfield.”
“A wonder indeed,” Ian muttered to himself. When he looked back up, Zachary’s eyes had widened. “What is it?”
“Speak of the…” Zachary cleared his throat and nodded. When Ian looked up, he saw the cause of his friend’s sudden transformation in demeanor. Just ahead of them down the street was Miss Banfield herself, accompanied by her mother, Lady Sheridan, as well as Zachary’s mother, Lady Lindbury.
And, of course, the one person Ian wanted to speak to least in the world.
Based on the look on Lady Cecilia’s face when her eyes caught his, it seemed she felt exactly the same way about him. Perhaps there was some comfort to be found in that. Even if the lady frustrated him to no end, they could at least see eye to eye on their mutual distaste for each other.
Of course, regardless of how aggravating Lady Cecilia was…it was difficult to deny her beauty.
Nor did he wish to deny it. If anything, the fire of her anger towards him only seemed to heighten how attractive she was. The delicacy of her features contrasted beautifully with the passion that reddened her cheeks and lit up her eyes whenever they traded wits. How far down would that flush extend, he wondered, if he were to have her laid bare before him?
How brightly would those striking green eyes blaze when brought to the heights of passion?
Miss Banfield, for her part, also saw them—and it was impossible to mistake the way her eyes lit up when she saw Zachary before she immediately bashfully averted them.
Her mother, Lady Sheridan, upon catching sight of the two gentleman—and of the young earl Zachary specifically, Ian had no doubt—touched Lady Lindbury’s arm enthusiastically, hastening her friend to pick up the pace and leading the merry band of ladies in the gentleman’s direction. She was the first to address them.
“Lord Lindbury. Your Grace.” Lady Sheridan bowed to both of them in turn, practically bubbling over with excitement. “How pleasant to run into the two of you on such a lovely day as this.”
“A lovely day exceeded only by the loveliness of the ladies before us,” Ian replied, putting on his most charming smile. It worked; Lady Sheridan blushed and babbled. It did not escape his notice that Lady Cecilia rolled her eyes and quietly scoffed in response. “Might I ask what brings the four of you out today? Are you simply out for a stroll?”
“Oh! Such a polite gentleman.” Lady Sheridan nodded. “The four of us are just coming from the modiste. The young ladies were in need of new gowns for the ball I am hosting this Friday. Oh! I do hope we will see you both there?”
“You will be missing out on a great deal if you do not,” said Cecilia, pointedly avoiding eye contact with the duke as she plastered a cheery grin across her face. “It is set to be a most lavish and exciting evening. And that is not even mentioning our new gowns.”
“Yes,” Nancy said, still with her eyes shyly on the ground. “It would be lovely to have you both in attendance.”
Lady Cecilia smiled. “You really must see Nancy’s dress, Zachary,” she insisted, blatantly trying to facilitate conversation between the two of them. Ian very barely held back an eye roll of his own. “It is a most fetching shade of blue. Blue really brings out her eyes, do you not agree?”
Zachary’s cheeks reddened slightly. “Why, yes, I—” he stammered, before locking eyes with Nancy, and smiling. “Yes,” he said again, more softly. “I suppose I cannot decline an invitation to such an event.”
Ian fought back a frown. Cecilia, on the other hand, could not have looked more pleased with herself.
“Well,” Ian said, as though eager to change the subject. “We ought to let you ladies return to your promenade. And thank you for the invitation to the ball, Lady Sheridan. I most look forward to the occasion.” He bowed to the Dowager Viscountess, who seemed as though she might swoon with delight at the moment.
“It will be a most delightful evening indeed,” Cecilia said, catching his eyes as he rose from the bow. Lightning seemed to pass between them at the look. “The theme is a night for love. I expect we will find more than a few love matches blossoming at the occasion. Though I understand that is not the type of thing you fancy, Your Grace?”
Ian smiled politely. “Wherever my fancies may lie, I cannot deny the power of love,” he said. “I am certain that a ball themed that way will do wonders to reveal the true nature of people’s affections for one another. And, of course, the lack thereof.”
Cecilia’s eyes hardened. “Yes,” she said. “I look forward to seeing the events of the night unfold.” She curtsied. “Your Grace. Brother.”
As she and the rest of the ladies began to walk down the street, Ian could not help but take a glance back in her direction. He did not catch her eyes, of course, being that she was walking away. But as he looked back, he did see the side of her head as she returned to face forward. A curtain of golden hair fluttered behind her, as though she was turning around from having glanced back over her shoulder.
As though she had turned back to look at him.
Later on, at the gentlemen’s club, the two men shared a drink. Ian finally asked the question that had been on his mind for the past few days. “Miss Banfield seems to have quite taken your fancy.”
“Yes.” Zachary swirled his drink, smiling to himself. “She is a pretty thing, is she not?”
“Pretty, sweet, seemingly well accomplished.” Ian tilted his head back, looking at his friend. “Am I to understand that you are finally deigning to set foot in the marriage mart this year? Throwing your hat in the ring, as it were?”
Zachary laughed, nearly choking on his drink. He shook his head. “Do not be ridiculous. Miss Banfield is a lovely diversion, but no more. Just because our European adventure is over, I see no reason to quit the life of leisure just yet.”
“A lovely diversion?” Ian shook his head. “Certainly you should indulge in whatever life you so desire—but I must say Miss Banfield is hardly an appropriate partner for such adventures. She is a respectable lady, Zachary. Clearly, she is sweet on you. It would be unkind to take advantage of those feelings, particularly in a lady so young and impressionable.”
“Unkind? Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?” Zachary stood up straight and squinted at him. “Do not tell me you have gone soft, Harwick.”
Ian scoffed. “Hardly. I am merely pointing out that we are in London. There are certain rules that must be followed, even by those outside of the traditionally polite societal purview. Everyone we interact with here is part of a very small social circle, and any whisper of a scandal would be enough to ruin a lady. Miss Banfield is not worldly, or a widow, or even married at all. She is only just entering the marriage mart. You should not encourage her affections if you do not intend to marry her.”
“Strange lecture, coming from you, of all people. We have always spoken of women this way, Your Grace. ” He delivered the title in a joking tone, seemingly hoping to lighten the mood. “From whence come these new, bothersome principles?”
“If you do not wish to consider the principle of the matter, then consider this: Miss Banfield is the bosom friend of your sister, and the daughter of your mother’s closest friend. You are treading dangerous waters, my friend.”
“Be sensible, Harwick. I very much doubt Miss Banfield would confide details of any such tryst with any member of my family, or hers, for that matter.” He laughed again, shaking his head. “Dangerous waters. You say that as though I were an oblivious minnow when you know very well you and I are both sharks. It is we who make the waters dangerous—no, not dangerous. It is we who make the waters interesting.”
Ian shook him off, downing the rest of his drink. Why was he so bothered by this? It was difficult to say. He had always assumed he and Zachary thought similarly. After all, they had both lost parents, even if Zachary still had his mother and sister. They both knew the pain of grief. Love, Ian knew from the death of his parents, was best avoided if one wanted to avoid the inevitable pain of loss. From this perspective, raking was most practical, in addition to being entertaining.
Yet for Miss Banfield, Zachary seemed to be ready to abandon practicality entirely. What could possess him so? Was any young lady so special? In many ways, Zachary was correct. This was always how they had spoken of women. Why should Miss Banfield be any different?
In trying to think about Miss Banfield, as the scotch took hold, Ian found himself only able to think of Cecilia.
Lady Cecilia.
The way she pursed her lips when she was displeased with something he’d said. The fiery glint in her eyes when she was excited, or infuriated, or otherwise ready to go to battle.
The way her chest heaved when they argued. From anger, surely—but when he looked at her, it was easily mistaken for lust.
He shook his head. Cecilia was not the issue at hand, Miss Banfield was. The source of his feelings did not matter. What mattered was that he took action upon them.
If Zachary was not to be convinced, then he would simply have to foil Cecilia’s plans himself.