“Oh, be still my heart. It aches at the thought of her dislike,” Christopher said with thick sarcasm, earning a deep chuckle from his brother.
“Are you capable of a serious conversation without sarcasm?”
“I might just be able to stretch myself to it,” Christopher said wryly. “What an interesting party this is. Perhaps I’m not capable to talk without sarcasm.” Robert guffawed with laughter. They laughed so hard together that they drew the attention of some of those that passed by them, rushing to join the other dancers.
Christopher hardly cared about their glares. His beloved father, who he had lost a few years ago, had always taught him to take the attention of thetonwith a pinch of salt.
“Why perform to their high standards, my boy? I’d rather you enjoy life than act like a marble statue to please them!”
It was the mantra Christopher lived his life by, and he was happy for it.
“We are being glared at again,” Robert muttered with a deep sigh, breaking off from his laughter.
“Worry not. Many people here are just like the Carters.” Christopher glanced toward Lady Helena across the room. She was caught up in conversation now, and her full lips spread into a smile. She had never smiled like that in his company. “They are snobs, that is all. They are eager to look down on people here and think we are not worthy of their attention.”
“Are we talking about people in general here tonight or the Carters?”
“Hmm, what do you think?” Christopher asked with a smile. “I’ll scratch my head in thought for a minute.” His brother laughed at his sarcasm once again. “Come on, Robert. You’ve seen the family as much as I have. Has any one of the Carters ever looked at you as an equal?”
Rather than answering, Robert looked away in the direction of the dancers.
“Robert?” Christopher nudged him, trying to get his attention, but he didn’t get an answer. Percival reached their sides, having left the group he had been entertaining with conversation.
“You two have a habit of running away.” Percival latched a hand around Christopher’s shoulder. “Cousin, you will never improve your reputation if you are always hiding from people at events like this.”
“Should I be seeking to ingratiate myself with people who think themselves above me? Yes, you’re right. A jolly way to spend an evening.”
“Christopher, you’re becoming insufferable,” Robert warned.
“Am I?” He stared at Robert in surprise. It was unusual for Robert to give him a warning. Usually, his brother joined in with his jests.
“All I am saying is that the mothers here tonight look ready to attack you,” Percival whispered and gestured with his wine glass at the mothers around the ballroom. “If you were to come near them, I’d think they would bat you away with their fans to ensure you don’t get to their daughters.”
“I am in agony at the mere thought,” Christopher said in such a deadpan tone that both his brother and cousin laughed once more.
Despite the words, Christopher took a hasty gulp from his wine glass. Regardless of what was said in the scandal sheets about him, he was no rake. He may have had experience in his time, a little at least, but he was not the ill-mannered cad women whispered he was. It had tainted him, and no lady now would go near the Duke who was thought to be so unfaithful.
Perhaps I will never marry.
The thought was a lonesome one, but he didn’t dwell on it. He shook himself, like a dog shedding water, brushing the thought from his mind.
“Come on, let’s get in our cups. That might help us enjoy tonight.” Christopher raised his glass as did Percival, but Robert had returned his glass to a nearby table and was walking away. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back soon. Enjoy your drinking.” Robert disappeared so quickly into the crowd that Christopher did not have a chance to ask him again.
“Come cousin, let’s get another drink.” Percival turned to fetch a carafe. Christopher followed him though he glanced more than once across the ballroom, surprised when he could no longer glimpse Robert in the room at all.
Has he left?
* * *
“Aunt Kitty, must I hear this?”
“I thought you were fond of gossip.”
“I do not feed on it as you do.” Helena was unsure if her words had been heard. Desperate to escape the heat of the ballroom, she had fled onto a terraced balcony in the garden and was wafting herself with the fan her aunt had offered her. Kitty stood beside her, gossiping intently as other ladies hovered at a distance, talking amongst themselves.
“It is true,” Kitty murmured. “I heard it from my own ears this evening. The Duke of Bridstone has a new lady friend. One he has already jeopardized, they say.”
