Page 7 of A Lady’s Rules for Seaside Romance (The Harp & Thistle #3)

Anne began to fidget and kept her eyes averted.

“She wants to know if you will attend her coming out ball next year for the season, one that I will be hosting. She wanted you to be her chaperone, since Bernard isn’t here, but I told her no because you’re an unmarried man.

As an alternate, she may have asked that you be the one to propose a toast at the dinner.

I did say I wasn’t sure how you would feel about that, though, and suggested Dantes instead, since he’s truly her uncle by marriage and the one in your family fully immersed into the ton and—”

“Anne.” Victor leaned toward her, looking quite serious. “Take a deep breath.”

Anne’s widened eyes lifted to his and she did as he suggested.

“One more, for good luck.”

She gave him a small smile but took another deep breath. It did help, and her voice calmed. “You really only need to say a few quick words, show your face for a bit, let her see that you were there. I know you wouldn’t want to be around something like that for long. But it would mean a lot to her.”

Victor bowed his head. “I would be quite pleased to do that for your daughter, unless you would prefer someone else? Someone a bit more refined?”

“No! No, of course not.” She knew he was likely referring to her father or the Duke of Chalworth.

However, her parents were often on the Continent and would never interrupt their never-ending holidays for their daughter or granddaughter.

And while the duke would be happy to give a speech about his granddaughter, Mary was quite insistent on it being Victor.

“You’re not unrefined, Victor. Oh, Mary will be so pleased to hear you will be there and do that for her. ”

But the happiness of this was short-lived, and worry set upon her brow.

Victor leaned forward again, clasping his hands together. “Something else is on your mind.”

He knew her so well. “Mary has been asking me about my debut. And about Bernard.”

Victor stilled. “Has she?”

Anne pressed her lips together tightly and nodded. A footman, David, appeared with a glass of whiskey for Victor and a glass of wine for Anne.

After thanking the man, the pair took thoughtful sips. Victor spoke first. “What do your children know about everything that happened?” He paused. “Forgive me. That’s none of my business.”

This was a topic they had never really breeched before.

Victor had known Bernard for a long time, as Bernard used to be a regular at their pub.

The McNabs were all quite familiar with Bernard and his habits, thus it wasn’t something she and Victor had ever really talked about.

He already knew most of it. Admittedly, it wasn’t really something she wanted to talk about, either.

But with Mary’s debut looming, it was a subject that could no longer be avoided. Especially with her dearest friend.

“Don’t be silly, Victor,” Anne said with reassurance. “You, of all people, should know you can ask me about anything.” She set her wineglass to the side. “Well, I told her the truth about my own excitement about my debut. About meeting her father, and all of that.” She forced a smile.

Victor waited a beat, studying her face. “There is something about it you are grappling with.”

So perceptive. “Yes.” Anne recalled the hat story, which she had never told Victor about.

“The children once saw what Bernard was capable of. But they were otherwise ignorant to his behaviors. To them, he was simply a very busy marquess. Of course, you and I both know his absence wasn’t for important reasons.

He was at brothels, or gambling, or drinking. ”

Anger flashed in Victor’s eyes. “What do you mean, they once saw what he was capable of?”

But Anne waved him off. “It doesn’t matter. It’s long in the past.”

“Anne.” He said it on a whisper.

She looked away. “Anyway, I’m trying my best to be excited for Mary. Admittedly, her upcoming debut brings up feelings of dread, of worry. But I refuse to let my past color my daughter’s future. I will be nothing but positive for her.”

Victor nodded slowly.

“Marriage is a farce, Victor. Especially for women.”

Victor’s dark brows pulled together. “Marriage can be good, Anne. My brothers have been married to their wives for years now. I never thought either of them would ever be happy in such an arrangement. But they are.” He leaned forward a bit.

“You are close with Vivian and Evelyn. Have they ever expressed regret in marrying my brothers?”

“Of course not,” she replied, a bit aghast at such a question. “I’m surprised at you, Victor. You’ve always been quite vocal about your dislike of marriage. On numerous occasions, you’ve said you would never want a wife or children.”

“The responsibility of it does terrify me, yes.” Victor rubbed at his chin, as if lost in thought. Anne forced herself to remain quiet and see what he said next. Had his visit with his grandfather changed his mind? Would he want a duchess at his side? Heirs?

Oh, the mere thought of having to go through pregnancy and labor again nearly made her shudder. Another reason Anne would never again be a wife.

“Though I can’t recall the last time I’ve made that comment,” Victor said slowly.

“What are you saying, you’ve changed your mind?” Anne tilted her head. “Are you saying you want to get married?”

“I…” Victor blinked several times at himself and then met her eye again. “No.”

Something about this conversation was increasingly bizarre and Anne wanted nothing to do with it. Time to move on. “Enough about that. I have been on pins and needles waiting to hear about your visit with your grandfather. What was that stack of paper you brought with you?”

“Hell.” Victor regarded his glass of whiskey, avoiding her eye.

Anne furrowed her brow. “‘Hell’?”

“Business-related hell.”

“Ah. So? Your grandfather, is everything all right? Is he ill?”

Victor let out a long sigh and glanced at the empty fireplace. “The man is as healthy as one can be at his age.”

“Oh. But that’s good news, isn’t it? I know you don’t wish to take his place.”

“It is good news.” But the way his gaze was vacant, to Anne, it seemed as if he were unsure.

Anne waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. Apparently, she would need to fish it out. “What did he wish to talk to you about, then?”

Victor put his attention squarely back on her and his stare caused her heart to hitch. “He wanted to tell me I’m related to a seal.”

Anne laughed loudly, but, when she realized Victor was serious, immediately recovered by clearing her throat. “Forgive me. A seal?”

Victor suddenly rose up to his feet and went over to a window that looked out at the sidewalk and street beyond that.

He pressed a hand to the wall beside it and told her a ridiculous story about being related to a magical creature called a ‘selkie.’ The Duke of Invermark seemed to truly believe it, and that the McNabs had magic in their blood. Which, of course, was preposterous.

Finally, Victor said, “Fergus told me he will die this summer. He’s convinced of it, that he can predict or sense his death because of the magic in our blood.” He then scoffed.

Anne went to his side. She put a light hand on his arm and tilted her head back to see him better. Victor’s hand immediately dropped from the wall and he stared down at her with intensity.

Anne lightly rubbed his arm for comfort, ignoring the hardness she felt under his sleeve. “It will be fine, Victor. No one can predict their own death. I’m sure you still have plenty of time before taking over the dukedom.”

Victor merely stared back, silent.

Anne pulled her hand away from him. The moment felt too intimate in a way, and if someone walked in right now, she would be embarrassed.

Victor seemed to return to himself as well and he looked away from her. “Those papers I brought, it isn’t business-related. Pub-wise, I mean. Though it does contain hell.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “What is it, then?”

“It’s everything I need related to the dukedom. Fergus said I should familiarize myself with it before it’s too late.”

“That isn’t the worst idea. You haven’t been a part of that world for a very long time.”

Victor’s throat moved on a swallow. “I know.” Then his green gaze returned to hers.

“It isn’t merely about the responsibilities it entails.

It’s the people as well. I don’t know anyone anymore.

” He rushed a hand through his dark hair.

“I went to prep school at eight years of age, just like everyone else. But I left when my father died. My grandparents sent me back at sixteen, but I didn’t last more than a few months.

And that was it. I hardly remember any of those lads anymore.

I don’t care if I’m related to Fergus, or to a blasted seal—I’m not of your ilk. ”

“You mean, you’re not a titled aristocrat.”

“Yes.”

“But that isn’t the reality, Victor, no matter what your life has been for the last thirty or so years. Even now, I should technically call you ‘Lord Victor’ in any conversation.”

Victor appeared to pale upon these words. “What do I do, Anne?” He whispered in a rare, vulnerable way. “How do I not fail at this? And how do I not fail the life I already built? How do I not fail both, when they are so at odds with each other?”

Anne pressed her lips together tightly as she stared up at him. His eyes pleaded back, needing her answer. Anne doubted his grandfather would die in just a few months, but he did need to start easing into his future. But how?

“What if you came to Brighton this year and stayed at Vivian’s cottage?

The last time you were there was…” She trailed off as an old, locked-away memory began to flail in her mind, as if trying to rip out of a bag.

In a panic, she shoved it away. “It was the summer Dantes and Vivian married. It’s far more informal there than London during the season.

Once the queen leaves for the Isle of Wight for the summer, many titled aristocrats will be in Sussex until she returns to London in September.

You could reconnect with people you know, or at least get used to what being in that life is life.

I’m sure Vivian would be happy to throw a ball to give you an opportunity to reconnect with people. ”

Victor rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t leave the pub for a summer.”

“Victor.” She touched his arm again and his green eyes snapped to hers. “Forgive my forwardness, but you don’t have a choice.”

With unexpected haste, Victor pulled away from her and it caused a pang of hurt. “No. I’m sorry,” he said in a stern voice. “But I can’t do that. I won’t be doing that.”

Before Anne could respond, Harris came into the room and in his usual prim voice, announced dinner was ready to be served.

She forced a smile. “Never mind all that, then. It was merely a suggestion.” Though it would be nice for Victor to be with them at least one summer.

Anne always missed him every year. They always missed him, she quickly corrected herself.