Chapter 2
“What’s the matter with you?” Edmund nudged Alastair, jerking him out of his thoughts. “You look like you’re about to explode.”
“What?”
“You keep staring at the door as if you’re expecting someone to come through. What’s going on with you, Alastair?”
Alastair realized he was behaving a bit like he’d lost his mind, and he turned away from the door, trying to keep himself calm.
He’d been looking for Arabella Fairleigh, hoping to catch her as she came in.
Even though it was clear she was uncomfortable about coming to the ball, she said that she would attend. And he needed to talk to her.
It was almost two hours into the ball, and there was no sign of her. Alastair was beginning to think she would never turn up. Much as he didn’t want to deal with her accusations and her angry state, he thought he would be able to help her. Then it would ensure that she left him alone.
That couldn’t happen if she didn’t meet him halfway, though.
“I’m just waiting for someone,” he mumbled, dusting his jacket down.
Edmund Hale raised his eyebrows, which almost disappeared under his shaggy blond locks.
“Oh, really? You’re waiting for someone? Like Miss Rosamund Linton?”
“What?” Alastair blinked. “No, of course not! Why would I be waiting for someone I’ve tried to turn away for months?”
Edmund chuckled.
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s worn you down? It’s perfectly possible that she had succeeded…”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Edmund! I haven’t gone that far.” Alastair ran his fingers through his hair. He was beginning to feel like a fool, waiting for someone who clearly detested him and held him in suspicion of her father’s death. “I’m waiting for Arabella Fairleigh.”
Edmund looked like he hadn’t heard him correctly. He shook himself.
“All right, I think I’m going mad. I’m sure I heard you say you were waiting for Arabella Fairleigh.”
“I am.”
His friend’s jaw dropped.
“What? But…why?”
“I need to talk to her, that’s all.”
“You’re aware of her accusations toward you, and the scandal that surrounds her?”
Alastair frowned.
“I’m perfectly aware of what’s been going on. But what’s the scandal got to do with anything?”
“Well, her father did take his own life.” Edmund looked around before lowering his voice. “It’s not exactly something you want to be associated with, is it?”
“And how is that Lady Arabella’s fault?”
“I…I mean…”
Shaking his head, Alastair turned away. He knew that taking one’s life was something that sent waves through the ton. It was something that stained the rest of the family, even if they had nothing to do with it. Alastair did have sympathy for Lady Arabella regarding that.
And it didn’t help that they had a huge amount of debt to deal with as well. Fairleigh’s gambling was well-known, and he’d not hidden it from everyone. Now he’d left his son and daughter with practically nothing, and they were going to be saddled with all the debts Fairleigh had left behind.
Careless as he was with his money and gambling, the viscount wouldn’t have killed himself and left his children with this.
Alastair was sure of that. He loved them, especially his daughter.
Alastair had heard Fairleigh talk about his darling Belle plenty of times while they played cards.
That was a lot of love toward her in his voice.
After seeing her the day before, it was evident the love was mutual.
Lady Arabella cared about her father so much she wouldn’t accept that he’d taken his own life.
He thought about his mother, about how their relationship was cordial but a little strained because of their different opinions on simple matters.
He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about his mother with complete fondness.
As if he’d conjured her with his mind, Alastair saw the Dowager Duchess of Hartwood approaching them, her skirts flowing out behind her. He bit back a groan.
Lady Hartwood was an attractive woman of fifty, and she certainly cut a fine figure when she was in the room.
And from the way she took care of her appearance, how she walked and spoke to people, she was aware of her attractiveness.
A strict, traditional woman who hadn’t shown much warmth throughout the whole time Alastair and his sister had been alive.
Even as she walked around, he was sure he could see a flicker of sadness in her eyes.
She joined them, giving Edmund a nod of greeting before turning to Alastair.
“Are you waiting for Miss Linton? She’s been looking forward to seeing you this evening.”
“Miss Linton?”
“You know she’s going to be here tonight.” Lady Hartwood huffed. “Honestly, Alastair, I’m sure you don’t pay attention.”
Alastair exchanged a look with Edmund, who rolled his eyes. He fixed his attention back on his mother.
“Actually, I don’t wish to speak to Miss Linton tonight, Mother.”
“What?” She blinked in surprise. “Why on earth not?”
“Because I’m angry at her for our last interaction. And that’s just the start!”
Lady Hartwood sighed as if she were talking to a child. “Honestly, I don’t know why you’re so annoyed about all this. She was just standing with you as she needed a chaperone.”
“And in doing so, she kept interrupting a private conversation I was having and asking me to give her attention instead,” Alastair shot back. “Don’t you realize that it was heavily embarrassing to have a family friend getting in the way of something I needed to discuss?”
“She’s not going to be your family friend for much longer.” His mother smiled. “I expect to hear more than that by the end of the night.”
He didn’t need to guess what she meant. For months now, Miss Rosamund Linton had been trying to get his attention and get close to him.
It was clear that she was expecting him to court her, even though he had no intention of doing that.
Miss Linton was a pretty girl, and she would make a good wife, but Alastair didn’t like her.
There was something about her that rubbed him the wrong way, and he didn’t like being around her longer than he had to. He didn’t know what it was, but it was enough that Alastair didn’t want to spend time with Miss Linton.
She also wasn’t a very nice woman who liked to talk ill of other people while preening herself. It seemed a regular thing for her to gossip and make others look bad. Alastair couldn’t get away from the gossip, but he wasn’t interested in getting involved with it in the way Rosamund Linton was.
A movement by the door caught his eye, and he saw Lady Arabella enter the room, her maid not too far behind her.
Voices around the room, currently warm and gay in the evening, faded a little and the room became a little chilly.
Alastair could see several of the guests openly staring at Lady Arabella, who stood alone with her fingers twisting together, trying to keep her head up and struggling.
He couldn’t stop himself from staring. He’d noticed how beautiful she was the day before, slim and tall with dark hair that fell in thick waves despite being pinned away from her face.
Her eyes had captivated him the most. They were blue but not quite.
There seemed to be a swill of purple in there as well, and Alastair had found himself sinking into them. They were captivating.
Standing before him in a lilac dress, she was even more beautiful, and he admired her.
And that made him feel ashamed. She was a combative woman who was certain he was involved in her father’s death, and he shouldn’t be thinking that she was lovely to look at.
Then he saw that the dress was looking frayed at the edges, and the dress didn’t look like the current Season’s fashion.
From the expressions on some of the ladies nearby, they had noticed as well.
Alastair was shocked at the anger that stirred in his belly, but it wasn’t directed at Lady Arabella.
It was at Fairleigh himself. How could he go around gambling his money away and not take proper care of his children?
He should’ve gotten his daughter the most fashionable dresses so she could fit in.
And Lady Arabella seemed to be equally embarrassed by it.
Suddenly, she was nudged aside, and Miss Rosamund Linton swept in.
Her golden hair glowed under the candlelight from the chandelier above, and she looked magnificent in a dress of pale yellow.
She certainly caught the eye of everyone around her, and she seemed to take the attention away from Lady Arabella.
Alastair could see the relief pass across the latter’s face as the former strode toward Alastair, her mother just behind her.
Lady Hartwood beamed and clasped Miss Linton’s hands as she curtsied.
“Rosamund, dear, it’s so good to see you tonight. That dress is fantastic! You look stunning.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Miss Linton turned and beamed at Alastair, her cheeks turning a slight rosy red. “Your Grace.”
“Miss Linton.”
Edmund arched an eyebrow at Alastair, his expression indicating he felt sympathy for his friend. He was ignored as Miss Linton stepped toward her, laying a hand on his arm.
“Aren’t you going to ask me to dance, Your Grace?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at him.
“I wasn’t aware that a lady had to push a gentleman to ask for a dance,” Alastair replied.
Lady Hartwood sighed and shot him a sharp look. “Oh, stop behaving like a child and take your future bride for a dance.”
“Future bride?” Alastair shook himself. “She’s not my future bride. We’re not even courting.”
“But you should,” Mrs. Linton insisted. She was a short, plump woman with a pleasant face and a nice smile, looking petite next to her tall, slender daughter. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked her already. With the way you two are together…”
“We’re not courting, Mrs. Linton.” Alastair cut her off. “I am aware you would like us to, but I won’t be forced into something I don’t want.”