Page 4 of The Reclusive Earl’s Scandal (Vows and Vanity #1)

“Another book, brother?”

Elena’s voice came teasingly from the library doorway as she leaned in the frame. Her eyes landed on the cover of the book he held, trying to read it.

“Yes,” he answered. “I find reading a good use of my time.”

His sister laughed, entering the library properly to stand before him. “I am not judging the activity, but marveling at the frequency. I am certain that is the fourth book you have read since returning to London three days ago.”

Edward merely gave her a tight smile, shrugged, and returned to the page he was poring over. After a moment, he spoke again. “It is a collection of Roman myths. This particular one I am reading is regarding Summanus, the Roman God of Sleep.”

Elena frowned. “There is a God of Sleep?”

“In these myths, there is a god or goddess of everything. For everything. Elements, times of the day, items, celebrations. It is a vast universe.”

His sister actually looked quite interested, her head tilting as if trying to read the page to see better.

Edward felt a kindling of hope. Although the two had been close growing up, and not so far apart in age, he had distanced himself not just from the ton but her too.

In a way, she was a stranger, and before their father’s passing, they had still been close enough, but their social requirements had tugged them apart a little.

Edward had been too busy learning to take over his earldom, and Elena had been prepared by tutors and their mother for her debut.

They had not found common ground in a very long time, and he wasn’t really prepared for how his heart rose at the thought of her being interested in his books.

“Is there a god of Love in there somewhere? One of suitable, well-matched marriages?” Her question was pointed, elegantly done, and he lifted a brow at her.

“Your tact is incredible, Elena.”

“I am merely saying.” She sniffed, feigning innocence.

“If there is such a thing, you might want to read up on their advice about how to woo any of these ladies.” A piece of paper extended from her hand, pulled from her pocket with a devious flourish.

Away from their mother, Elena was more foolish, lighter, and he found himself recalling their younger years of simply finding every way to laugh, and not worry about their futures.

Edward hesitated before taking the paper.

On it were names, and he ran through them quickly.

Names meant little to him, but he did give an appreciative glance over the titles.

Some were ones he knew, others were friends of Elena’s, or daughters of his late father’s associates that Edward had been instructed to get to know.

He had met enough of these women to know this list was futile, but some names jumped out to him as new. Women who did not know him, women to whom he could hopefully be a blank slate for, a way to reinvent himself in conversation.

“Do you have a recommendation of who I should speak with?” He humored her.

Elena gave him a grin that made him think she had been waiting for that. “Lady Catherine Browning. She is the daughter of the Marquess of Barrickshire, very wealthy, very well-liked. It is her second Season.”

“How come she was not matched during her first?”

“She fell a little unwell at some balls,” Elena said. “Some say it was minor headaches, a reaction to the light. Other people gossiped a little nastier and said she was overwhelmed by the free wine offered and was ailed in such ways. I do not believe that, however. I veer towards the first one.”

“I see.” He glanced over the list again.

“I really do like Lady Catherine. I would like you to make an effort with her. After all, if I remain unmarried for some time then your wife will be someone, I will get to spend a great deal of time with. Therefore, it should be someone I can see as a sister as well as a friend.”

Edward looked up at her before nodding. “I will make the effort, then. I shall speak with her at…, who is hosting the Season’s first ball?”

Elena folded her arms impatiently. “Lady Montgomery. It is the same as every year. Truly, Edward, you should know this.”

He lifted his arms in surrender. “I will try to find someone you can see as a sister, but, honestly, Elena, if I am to do this then it is more important to me to find love, not a friend for you.”

Elena’s eyes narrowed at him. “Fine,” she muttered. “But at least give it a chance.”

“What I mean is that I am more than happy to step up to my duty, as I have neglected to do, and find you a good husband so you will not have to rely on my future wife as your only source of company.” He gave her a knowing look. “Now I am back I intend to do my best to show up for you.”

His sister’s face softened. The hard elegant mask she wore to follow their mother always made her appear a little older than she was.

But suddenly she was the little sister he had adored and swore to protect years ago.

He smiled up at her, only to have those eyes narrowed on him again, and the harsh, smaller version of their mother returned.

“Do your best, Edward. I do not want us to bear the gossip that comes from your negligence.”

“Heavens forbid it,” he muttered sarcastically as Elena gave a huff of impatience and stormed from the library.

“Lady Catherine, Edward! Do not forget!”

However, could I ? he thought to himself. His eyes were already on his book in seconds, thoughts of Lady Catherine, and Lady Thea, and Lady Georgina, and every single lady on the list, slipped away.

***

Lady Montgomery’s home was a bright candle, blazing with light against the dark sky. Inside, the ballroom was filled with the ton, all of them excited for the Season ahead.

Mothers stood with their daughters, keenly overseeing the litany of men who entered in their tailcoats and different colored waistcoats.

Fathers huddled to one side nearest the wine, trying to forget they would have to be responsible for their daughters’ futures, friends linked and ladies were already fanning themselves as they noted the differences in the lords in attendance.

Edward hated it all immediately.

He stood with his mother who was already surveying the ballroom. Dressed in the silver and deep green colors of the Thornshire family, Edward didn’t feel out of place, but his stomach was a riot of nervous butterflies, and his hands could not stop clenching and unclenching, not knowing what to do.

“Stop that fussing,” his mother scolded, smacking his wrist with her fan. “If you fidget with your cuff sleeves once more...”

“I have stopped,” he snapped back, tense and on-edge. Cringing, he averted his gaze from her narrowed one.

She only shook her head at him before speaking moments later. “Elena provided you with a list so I am told. Did you recognise any names?”

Edward shook his head. “And I do not require a lecture about how I ought to recognise them, or that I would have recognised them had I been present. I have made my promises to Elena and she is satisfied enough.”

At his mother’s silence, he looked back at her. She appeared ready to argue it, but only turned back to the ballroom, clearly irritated. Edward knew she hated being spoken back to. Tonight, of all nights, he would have to be careful and keep her calm.

“Good,” she finally said begrudgingly. “When will you approach your first dance partner of the night, then?”

The sigh he bit back took effort not to exhale.

His nerves were frayed, and everywhere he looked eyes already seemed to be on him.

He couldn’t afford them all, and fought the urge to fidget with his cuff sleeve again.

Perhaps a glass of wine would help. Perhaps he could do that, and settle his nerves, and do what he could to stay afloat in the sea of anxiety he drowned in.

Beneath his collar, sweat began to collect.

His cravat felt knotted too tight, and his waistcoat was too constricting.

Everything felt wrong and off-kilter, as though he was one footstep away from disaster.

The anxiety hung over him, and he could not even entirely pinpoint what his problem was.

Just being out of the house, being around so many people, not knowing how many people he needed to converse with—it all got to him.

Hours ago, he had been reading in the library. Now, he was at Lady Montgomery’s ball, and sincerely wished he was anywhere but there.

“I am going to get a drink,” he muttered. Before his mother could protest, he walked away from her and headed to the refreshments table. On his way, he passed a group of lords of different ages. They spoke in low voices, their focus breaking as he walked by.

“Thornshire,” one called out. “That is you, is it not, Thornshire? Heavens, did London finally call you? We half thought the countryside had swallowed you whole.” The jesting came from Lord Thomas who’d been a distant friend of Edward’s before he had retreated.

“It is me, yes,” he said, forcing a laugh. “It is good to see you, Willoughby. You must have taken your viscountcy by now, no?”

“I have.” He flashed a wide grin, his face pulling into a quick charm that would no doubt have several ladies swooning. “I was just telling Lord Bradley here that I am thinking of hosting a gathering in our old gentleman’s club. You recall the Greenacre?”

Edward’s stomach dropped at the mere thought of another social event when he was barely getting through this one. It had taken him days of worrying over the ball, and hours that day of talking himself down from canceling his attendance. To already be thinking about another event was dizzying.

“I do,” he answered hesitantly.

“Do join us, Thornshire. We can properly catch up.”

Around Lord Thomas, some of the other lords nodded, while the rest looked confused at his presence, interested at the disappearance and the reason why. They are just as bad as the ladies with their gossiping , Edward thought.