Page 21 of The Burdened Duke (Willenshires #4)

I’m doing it. I’m truly doing it.

Father was wrong. I’m not a coward. I never was.

These were the thoughts that shot through William’s mind as he rode, terror and exhilaration gripping him in equal measure. The mare moved easily and smoothly, responding at once to his tiniest touch of the reins. He knew, of course, that the horse was simply following its companion, but it did him good to imagine himself in control of the situation.

Miss Brookford had ridden well, he remembered that much. The woman was a natural horse rider, she and her horse moving as one. Now that it was over and half a day had passed, however, his ride almost seemed like a dream.

Not a dream, though. I rode a horse for the first time since father’s death. I wasn’t thrown, I wasn’t injured in any way, and nor was anybody else. I did it.

The rain continued, heavy as ever, as he dressed absently. They were all going to the Assembly Rooms at the Pump Room tonight, where all of Bath Society gathered as often as they could. There would be supper, and music, and dancing, of course. The gentlemen were less interested in the Assembly Rooms, and there was a great deal of worry that the rain would not ease up in time for the hunting outing the next day.

William had not planned to hunt, of course, but after his ride only that morning, he felt… well, he wished to repeat the process. He wanted to ride again. An image of the stallion popped into his mind, and he shifted uneasily.

Not that creature, of course.

That reminded him, Miss Brookford had not yet chosen a name for the horse. Perhaps she did not believe he was serious when he told her she could choose. Biting his lip, he nodded at his valet, who was making the finishing touches on his cravat.

“That’ll do, thank you. Don’t wait up for me, of course. It’s likely to be a late night.”

The valet bowed. “Of course, your Grace. I do hope you enjoy yourself.”

He smiled absently. “Oh, I’m sure I shall. I hope so, at the very least.”

The man withdrew, leaving William staring at his reflection, gathering his thoughts.

I must tell her tonight. She deserves to know the truth.

No, it was too soon. William’s apology was still raw, and he still flinched over his own curtness to her.

I’ll dance with her tonight.

The thought of seeing Lavinia again filled his chest with warmth and anticipation, with a fair dollop of anxiety in the mix, too.

He could already hear the chatter and laughter drifting up from downstairs, with some guests already prepared to go, calling their carriages and making plans to meet up with each other once they reached the Assembly rooms. He closed his eyes.

Time to go.

***

William travelled with his two brothers and their respective wives, crammed in between poor Abigail and Eleanor, Alexander and Henry arguing about something in the opposite carriage seat. He smiled to himself, watching the dark landscape flit past.

Am I… am I excited over this outing? If I am, it’s only because of her.

The ride, it seemed, had changed everything. It seemed ludicrous that he had ever seriously considered Miss Bainbridge. She was perfect for the role of duchess, indeed, but somehow the idea of marrying her was hollow.

“William?” Abigail said, her gentle voice cutting into his thoughts. “You seem preoccupied. Is everything well?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, I’m quite well. I think I’m just looking forward to the party.”

Abigail smiled, and Henry gave a splutter of laughter across the carriage.

“You? Looking forward to something social? That can’t possibly be right.”

“Don’t be cruel, you silly man,” Eleanor responded, nudging her husband’s knee with her foot. “I wonder who William is more eager to see – Miss Bainbridge, or Miss Brookford?”

The two brothers gave a whoop of laughter at that, and William allowed himself a small smile. He was with family, after all. One had to endure a little teasing.

“You’re all wretched,” he remarked, “and none of you deserve to know.”

There was more hooting and laughter at that, and they kept jesting with each other all the way to the Assembly Rooms.

The grand building was all lit up from the inside-out, lights glowing from the windows. Carriages lined up outside, with finely dressed ladies and gentlemen climbing out, hats and bonnets crammed onto their heads to fend off the light, misting rain. The heavy showers of earlier had faded away, leaving only the promise of a clear night, fresh air, and a fine day tomorrow.

The Willenshires’ carriage rumbled up next, and the five of them untangled themselves from each other and went hurrying up the steps. The heat hit William before they reached the door, and he felt a powerful wave of anxiety.

She would be here. He hadn’t seen Lavinia since that morning, and nerves twanged at his gut. He hadn’t even decided what he would say to her, only that it was time to come clean. He would tell her about the locket, about all of it. He would tell her about his feelings, about his father’s will, about his own fears. Perhaps she didn’t want to be a duchess. Sensible women generally didn’t – it was a great deal of work and a lot of scrutiny, for surprisingly little reward.

Stop thinking of her. Miss Bainbridge is your betrothed, not Miss Brookford.

He stepped into the Assembly rooms proper, blinking in the glare of countless candelabras.

The place was packed full of ladies and gentlemen, all of them talking at once, loud enough to drown out the music.

And then he saw her.

Lavinia was wearing a deep blue dress, the same dress she’d worn all those months ago when they first met. It seemed like an eternity ago now.

His brothers and sisters-in-law filtered away, spotting acquaintances in the crowd, leaving William to stand alone. He felt oddly breathless.

Lavinia’s gaze met him and stayed fixed on him.

William had read in books before how a pair of people might see each other across the room, lose their breath, and feel as though nothing and no one mattered but each other. He had always regarded it as feeble nonsense, trivialities that no sensible person could ever consider with gravity.

Well, he felt a little different now.

With a start, he realized that Lavinia was coming towards him, clutching the sides of her gown with something that could have been anxiety.

“Hello, your Grace,” she said, smiling nervously and dropping a curtsey. “I was starting to think you might not come.”

“Well, I’m… I’m here now,” he managed. Weak stuff. He ought to do better than that. “Is your dance card full?”

She glanced down at the card hanging from her wrist and pulled a face. He wanted to laugh aloud. Ladies weren’t meant to pull faces.

“About half-full, I’d say. I’m not used to being in demand, you know.”

He chuckled, feeling some of his tension relax. “I was hoping you would dance with me. Do you have a partner for this next set? I can hear that the dancing has already begun.”

She smiled tentatively up at him, her expression soft, hopeful, and so warm that it made him want to grin like a madman.

I love her. How could I have ever thought I felt differently?

“I should love to dance with you, your Grace.”

He grimaced. “I hate being called that. It always reminds me of my father. My name is William.”

She bit her lip. “It’s not proper. If anyone overheard…”

“I apologise, I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

“No, it isn’t your fault. It’s theirs, really,” she gestured at the room in general, her point fairly clear. “I can call you William in my head, I suppose.”

He had to smile at that. “Well, if we intend to dance for this set, we ought to take our places now. What do you think?”

“I think that is an excellent idea, your Grace. Forgive me, William .”

The dance slipped by faster than he could have imagined. It was some jig or other, and he found it remarkable that he didn’t tread on her toes, or trip over his own feet, or anything like that. She kept looking up at him, a strange expression in her eyes, and he could feel his pulse pounding in his ears.

When the music ended, with a flourish almost drowned out by cheers and clapping, he blinked around, almost disoriented.

“I have something to tell you,” he said aloud, before he could allow himself to think twice. “It’s important.”

She hadn’t heard. Lavinia squinted up at him, cupping a hand around her ear. “I beg your pardon?”

He bit his lip. “Nothing. Let us get some refreshments.”

I will tell her tonight, he decided. It made perfect sense. He had seen how her hand kept creeping up to the space at her collarbone, as if subconsciously reaching for a jewel that hung there. He’d seen how she flinched when the item was not there, and how she dropped her hand, looking foolish. It had played out over and over again.

He knew, of course, how much the locket meant to her. Or rather, what it represented – a gift from her brother, his childhood picture kept inside. He had already kept it for too long. It was high time to return it.

It was high time, too, to tell her about his betrothal. She deserved to know. She did.

Lavinia followed him, her arm looped through his, as they pushed their way through the crowds towards the refreshment centre. He caught a glimpse of Mr. Bainbridge, who tossed his head and turned his back.

William blinked, surprised at the snub. But then, it was fairly odd that Miss Bainbridge had not tried to seek him out already. Perhaps she had finally given up. He felt a twinge of guilt at his own cowardice, but there was plenty of relief in there, too.

They reached the refreshment table, and he poured out a cup of punch for himself and for Lavinia. She drank it down in large, unladylike gulps, and he bit back a smile.

“Heavens, I’m exhausted already,” she remarked, shaking her head and setting down the cup. “It hardly bodes well, does it? Exhausted after one dance.”

“I must agree with you,” he answered. “Dancing is tiring, however. How is your sister?”

“Gillian? Oh, she’s fine. She’s been storing up her strength for tonight and will either be dancing with Lord Langley or waiting to dance with him again.” She chuckled, shaking her head again.

“His attentions have been marked. He seems a good sort of man, and Miss Gillian appears to like him.”

“Yes, I think so. Forgive me, your Grace, but I think you said something earlier, which I did not quite understand? On the dance floor? It seemed important.”

Anxiety tightened in William’s chest. He gave a brief smile. “Yes, I believe there was something I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Oh?”

He slipped his hand into his pocket, feeling for the muslin-wrapped parcel. It would be the easiest thing in the world to help her understand. He would take out the locket, unwrap it, and she would be reunited with her precious jewel once again. Reunited with her brother.

It wasn’t there.

William blinked, feeling a bead of sweat make its way down the side of his temple. Whether it was because of anxiety or the heat of the room, he was not sure.

The locket was certainly not in his pocket. Panic surged through his mind, throwing up horrific visions of pickpockets, of accidents, of thieving servants, or even a malicious Miss Bainbridge. He calmed down a little once he recalled taking the parcel out of his pocket and laying it down on the desk in his study.

However, of course, that meant he had a new, pressing problem to solve. Lavinia was looking up at him, mildly curious.

“Are you quite alright?” she asked, tilting her head. “You’ve gone as white as a sheet.”

He laughed awkwardly. “Have I? I’m surprised, as it’s so hot in here it feels like all of the blood had rushed to my head.”

She smiled slightly at his clumsy joke. “Do you need to sit down?”

“I’m not in such need yet .” He removed his hand from his pocket, wondering if he dared try the others. Lavinia would notice at once that he was looking for something, and then he would have to make excuses, or worse, tell a frank lie. Somehow, the truth did not seem possible.

The whole story seemed weak and almost unbelievable, here in the heat and noise of the Assembly Rooms. He would have to shout to be heard, telling her how he had her precious locket and had chosen not to return it. He would have to explain, of course, but not here. Here was not the right place to talk about anything serious, or anything personal, or anything that required straightforward talk and carefully thought-out answers.

“What did you want to say, then?” Lavinia said at last, making William jump.

No, they couldn’t possibly discuss it here. But Lavinia was looking up at him curiously, waiting for a response.

He cleared his throat, avoiding her eye. “Do you know, I truly can’t remember. I’m sure it’ll come to me.”

She smiled wryly. “I’m sure.”

“I… did you want to dance again? The next set is starting soon, I think.”

She smiled gently. “We can’t dance twice in a row, can we? The world will think that we’re betrothed.”

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight awkwardly.

What is wrong with me? I’m acting like a fool!

It was just typical that he would forget to the put the locket in his pocket at the time he wanted it. When had it stopped being so important to him to carry the locket around? It wasn’t his. It never had been his. Could it be that now Lavinia was here, and by seeing her so regularly, it somehow… somehow did not matter?

No, that was ridiculous. Truly ridiculous. It was just a locket.

“No, no, of course not,” he said, smiling nervously. “I beg your pardon. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. I would like to speak to you soon, though. Tomorrow, perhaps?”

Her eyes widened. “If you like.”

He nodded abruptly. “We can’t discuss it here.”

“As you wish.”

A silence descended between them, the noise of the Assembly rooms hemming in. Lavinia broke the quiet first.

“Shall we partake in more of the punch? I find myself quite parched.”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “That is a very good idea.”