"I know how to handle the mamas, thank you very much," Andrew said. "This isn't my first season, and it surely won’t be my last."
Victor chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You say that like it's something to be proud of. Do you enjoy being paraded around as one of theton'smost eligible bachelors year after year?"
Andrew leaned back slightly, his gaze drifting over the crowd. "Enjoy? Not exactly. But I'm not fighting it. I know you are a married man now, and you're only trying to make me see the merits of settling down. You think there's some grand revelation waiting for me, don't you? That I'll stumble into a ballroom one day and suddenly find myself bewitched."
Victor grinned. "I'm just saying, it's not impossible. I mean, look at me. If someone told me a few years ago that I'd be happily married now, I would've laughed in their face."
Andrew offered Victor a small smile. Part of him wanted to tease his friend about falling in love, especially since, not long ago, Victor had sworn it wasn't in the cards for him. But he held back. He, more than anyone, understood what Victor had endured. He was genuinely happy for him. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Victor.
"I cannot believe you are going to be a father," Andrew said lowly, shaking his head.
Victor glanced at him and smiled. "I know. It still feels quite surreal."
"I'm happy for you," Andrew said. "Truly."
Victor extended his hand, and Andrew clasped it firmly. "Thank you," Victor said.
As Victor turned to rejoin the crowd, Andrew remained where he was, his gaze following him. A faint smile lingered on his lips but it waned swiftly.
CHAPTER TWO
"Ihave decided what I must do," Lavinia whispered, leaning closer to Emma, her fan fluttering nervously in her gloved hands.
The more Lavinia thought about it, the harder it was for her to breathe through the restricting corset that cinched her ribs. Her mind raced with a litany of doubts and excuses, each one louder than the last.
Emma raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side. "Surely, it's not what I am thinking. You have been acting odd the past couple of days, Lavinia, and it started at Lady Pembroke's tea party."
"I'm going to secure a match with Lord Brandon," Lavinia declared and took in a shuddery breath.
Emma inched closer to her. "What do you mean when you say you will secure a match?"
"Do whatever is necessary," she answered, giving Emma a knowing look.
The past few weeks had been more difficult than the entire last four years of her life combined. It was almost as if she were running out of time. Her father's occasional complaints had turned into daily remarks, each sharper than the last. Not only did he voice his displeasure, but he had also taken it upon himself to micromanage her every move.
"Lavinia, has it gotten that bad?" Emma cooed and shook her head. She scanned the garden, as if hoping no one else had heard. "We used to make jokes about the women that tried to charm their way into marriage."
"I know, but..." Lavinia replied, glancing nervously toward her father, who stood a few feet away, chatting animatedly with a group of gentlemen. "It's about ending this nightmare. Papa's constant demands are getting unbearable, Emma. If I don't do something now, they'll take matters into their own hands. I cannot live with my aunt in the country. I won't."
Lavinia swallowed and massaged her nape, restless all of a sudden. "Father drags me to every function, every ball, every tea party where an eligible gentleman might be present. He stations me by his side like some decorative vase, ensuring I'm on display. He forbids me from even standing with you or Alice, claiming it makes me look...unsociable. He watches me like a hawk. Smile wider, stand straighter, laugh at every joke. I have had it."
Emma emitted a soft sigh. "I am so sorry, Lavinia. But...Lord Brandon? Of all people?"
"He's everything Father wants," Lavinia said with a sigh, glancing again toward the terrace where Lord Brandon was standing. "Respectable, wealthy, and established. If I can secure a match with him, it'll stop the criticism, and Papa will finally leave me alone."
Emma shook her head. "I just cannot imagine you dropping handkerchiefs and batting your lashes at him. You have never been one for theatrics, Lavinia."
"I'm not," Lavinia replied with a firm tone. "But I can use it to my advantage. The least I can do is try. What I know is that Lord Brandon isn't a fool swayed by fluttering lashes. He values intelligence, practicality, and good sense. I have prepared myself for this."
Emma's lips twitched as though suppressing a smile. "Prepared yourself?"
"For days, I've been poring over books on estate management," Lavinia said, her voice gaining a touch of conviction. "I can discuss crop rotation, irrigation systems, and livestock yields with confidence. These are subjects he cares about."
Emma was about to respond when the sound of a throat clearing interrupted their conversation. Both women looked up to see Lavinia's father looming over them with an expression that teetered between impatience and exasperation.
"Lavinia," he began, his tone clipped, "I trust you are not planning to spend the entire evening in this corner. This is not the time to be idle. There are eligible gentlemen here; use the opportunity to mingle."
"Of course, Papa," she said, forcing a polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes before walking away from Emma.
