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William followed his friend’s gaze to a line of ladies staring at him with unabashed interest. His scalp prickled, and he felt uncomfortable.

“Surely you jest,” he said incredulously.

“I do not.” Theo smiled. “You need to find a wife sometime. Why not start now?”

“But they’re…”

“Amenable? Willing? Noblewomen of good standing?”

“I was going to say naïve.”

“All the better,” Theo replied. “You do not want a headstrong wife.”

“And what would you know of having a wife?” William asked with a sneer.

“Enough to know that you want someone who would be willing to marry you no matter what.”

“That surely cannot be all, Emerton.”

“Why don’t we enjoy ourselves tonight? We can consider all other options later.”

“I do not like this plan,” William said with a frown, still eyeing the ladies now waving at his friend.

“You do not have to.”

Theo, not in the least bit uncomfortable, gave a polite nod in greeting, which had the ladies scurrying over to him.

“Good evening, Your Grace.” They curtsied to him, their eyes wide. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

Considering how closely the two of them had been standing, William almost found it rude how they blatantly ignored his existence.

Not that he could blame them. Theo was handsome and had chosen to forgo the mask.

“How can I deprive the world of my beauty?”Theo had responded when William had asked him about it.

“Indeed, it is a delight to see you this fine evening, Lady Beatrice.” Theo bowed over the blushing girl’s gloved hand and placed a kiss that was entirely inappropriate. “Your beauty has brightened what might have otherwise been a dull evening for me.”

Apparently, it was now a custom to forgo the dress code, because rather than don their masks, the ladies had soft fabrics dangling from their wrists.

“You flatter me, Your Grace.” Lady Beatrice smiled politely, fanning her face in practiced bashfulness.

“Hardly. I only speak the truth,” Theo said, his tone dripping with honey.

William frowned, wondering how he would ever adjust to the honeyed dance of ballroom conversation when he had become accustomed to the honest conversation of the battlefield.

He eyed the lady again, knowing he would have struggled to hide the untruth of his words. He doubted Lady Beatrice would have appreciated being told that she looked a bit mousy even if it was an honest assessment of her persona.

She might be considered mildly handsome, but nothing about her or her companions stood out to him, and he wondered for a brief moment if this would be the lot he would have to select a wife from.

He wasn’t vain, but he needed someone who could at least spark a hint of desire within him.

“Do you remember me, Your Grace?” another one of the ladies spoke up. “I am Miss Grace Merriwether. We paired up for cards at the Clartons’ dinner party.”

This one was at least pretty, but she looked much too young to be considered a potential duchess. At the first sight of the scars beneath Theo’s shirt, every one of these ladies would no doubt shrink away from him.

“I am Lady Diana Keith,” another one piped up. “My brother is the Earl of Kentworth.”

“I am Lady Victoria,” another supplied. “I play the pianoforte. I hear that you love the opera.”