"Yes, of course," she said. "He's spoken fondly of his mother and his younger sister. He even mentioned a visit to his estate in the countryside that I might accompany him on someday. He has been nothing but open."
"Have you ever met anyone who knows him well? Anyone who could vouch for his character beyond his own account?"
Lavinia frowned, clearly taken aback by his questions. "I...no. But why should I doubt him? He's done nothing to suggest he isn't genuine."
Andrew exhaled slowly, his gaze locking on hers. "Because life isn't always as simple as someone saying the right things, Lavinia. Be cautious. Charm can be a mask."
Lavinia crossed her arms. "Are you speaking from experience, Your Grace?"
Andrew felt a flicker of something. It felt like hurt, maybe, or annoyance, rising within him at her pointed question. It stung more than he cared to admit, but he managed to keep his expression carefully neutral.
"Perhaps I am," he replied evenly. "But this isn't about me, is it?"
Andrew stepped back, his gaze breaking from hers as he turned abruptly. "If you'll excuse me," he murmured. He didn't wait for her response. She remained quiet. The only sound that filled the room was that of his boots hitting the polished floors as he walked away. Lavinia's voice didn't call after him, and he didn't look back.
About an hour later, he reached the venue for the hunt with David. As the hunt began, Andrew found himself distracted, his usual concentration lost amidst the unrelenting thoughts swirling in his mind.
"What am I doing?"he thought, frustration building inside him.
He had tried to warn her but Lavinia was too eager, too blinded by the prospect of a match, to listen to him. It wasn't as if LordGrove had done anything wrong, yet something about the whole situation felt off. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that this was moving too quickly, that Lavinia, in her rush, might be walking into something she'd regret.
And it would be his fault. He’d taught her all she knew, after all.
He clenched his jaw as he steered his horse toward a thicket, pushing the frustration down. Perhaps he could introduce her to some of his friends. Men who were respectable and well-suited to her. Men who would be more than just a charming face. But would that even help? She had already set her sights on Lord Grove. And from the looks of it, she wasn't going to listen to him.
However, Andrew couldn't leave it alone. So once the hunt slowed down, he found Lord Grove in the crowd of men. The hunt had long since moved into the distance, and the two men found themselves alone, the sounds of the dogs and the distant calls of the others fading into the background.
"Lord Grove!" Andrew called out to him, chuckling lightly as he rode up beside the Viscount. He had decided to approach the man with a sense of light-heartedness, intending to keep the conversation casual and unassuming. He figured the best way to learn about Robert's true nature, to properly assess the viability of the match with Lavinia, was to let him think they were simply talking.
Robert looked over, flashing a wide grin, clearly pleased that Andrew had chosen to engage him. "Your Grace," he greetedwith a nod, "I must say, it's an honor to be riding alongside you today."
"The pleasure is mine," Andrew said, then added with an air of casual curiosity, "Indulge me, Robert now that the hunt has slowed down. You must have quite a few admirers. A man in your position, well, they must come by the dozen."
Robert chuckled, clearly flattered by the remark. "Oh, I'm sure they do. But I am selective, Your Grace. Not every lady is worthy of my time."
"I agree," Andrew said. "Which is why I don't take matters seriously. I am sure my reputation precedes me. But you must have quite the knack for knowing exactly what a lady wants. I've heard you've been in the company of some rather lovely ladies lately." He let the words hang in the air for a moment, watching Robert's expression carefully.
"Indeed," he replied smoothly. "It's quite easy, really. You just have to say the right words, promise the right things...and the rest follows naturally. Ladies, you see, they want security. They want a future, even if it's only in their minds. Of course, I don't have to explain this to you, Your Grace."
Andrew felt a flicker of something sour rise in his chest, but he quickly smothered it. He did not like where the conversation was going. He was starting to dread it. Robert seemed to be under the delusion that Andrew shared his perspective on something.
"Do elaborate, Robert," he asked.
Robert's face lit up and he seemed quite pleased that Andrew had asked him to elaborate. A sly smile spread across his face, and he lowered his voice as if sharing a secret. "It's simple, really. A little charm, a promise of a future together…a lady's heart is easily won when you make her feel special, make her believe she's the only one. Then, when the moment is right, you whisk her away to Gretna Green, give her the marriage she's dreaming of, and once you're alone, well..." He paused, leaving the rest to Andrew's imagination.
Andrew's stomach churned, but he kept his expression neutral. "And what happens after? The lady is left with a false promise, I assume?"
Robert shrugged nonchalantly. "Exactly. She's left with the illusion of a future, but by the morning, she's forgotten about. No harm done. After all, confessing what truly happened would bring shame to her. So, she goes home, tells her family a lovely story about her short, whirlwind marriage, and I'm long gone. No scandal, no mess. It's a foolproof plan, and it's quite interesting. The chase, I mean."
"The chase..." Andrew nodded and clenched his jaw. "I'm familiar with the chase."
"Men like us know the sham that is marriage, Your Grace," he continued, clearly enjoying the conversation. "It's all about power, position, and persuasion. Marriage is just a means to an end. We are very capable of cutting corners to get to the end, without having to go through the means."
Andrew's chest tightened at the casual cruelty in Robert's words. He fought the urge to grind his teeth, to lash out with a sharp remark that would shatter Robert's smug confidence. But instead, he chose to keep his expression neutral, though his gaze turned cold.
"Perhaps, we can talk more about this over drinks, Your Grace?" Robert added, grinning. "I can treat you to a nice bottle of brandy. We could discuss tactics. I see we both have our eyes set on the same lady. But for you, I can back away. We are friends here, aren't we?"
Andrew's voice dropped to a low, measured tone as he turned back toward Robert. The earlier coolness in his demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous.
