Or perhaps it was because, in part, he longed to be the old George, the George without responsibilities, the George who knew how to have a good time.
Yet, when they arrived, he felt more than a little awkward. The atmosphere inside was bustling. There were faces amongst the crowd that George hadn’t seen in such a long time, and it was difficult for him to socialize when knowing just how much had changed since last he had seen them.
But he reminded himself many times of the alternative, sitting alone in his study instead of drinking and forcing the laughter that seemed to come so easily to others.
Many of the men around him had been in similar situations, having all been drafted into the war, and yet not a one of them seemed to hold the same misfortunes of trauma and such. Though he knew better than to believe it was true. Nobody could possibly have come back from France unchanged, and he was certain of that. Perhaps if he pretended long enough, he might one day laugh and smile genuinely just as these men seemed to do.
During a lull in conversation, in a moment when George had found a quiet place in one of the back rooms to sit, Walter dropped down onto the couch beside him and nudged him playfully with an elbow.
“Would you please at least try to look like you are enjoying yourself?” Walter demanded, handing him the second glass of Scotch he was holding.
George took it, took a deep swig, and forced a smile for his friend.
“I am,” he assured him. At least, he was having more fun than usual, if not entirely enjoying himself.
Walter scoffed and leaned back in his seat, glancing over the room.
“Perhaps we should join a game?” he suggested. When George did not accept the suggestion, Walter inclined his head towards a couple of young ladies – ladies of the night – who were positioned strategically about the room. “Or perhaps you would like to lose yourself for a while.”
George’s stomach twisted.
There was a time when he would have taken the suggestion without a second thought.
But now, something about it felt entirely wrong.
In truth, there was only one woman whose company he wished to share tonight. The thought of her tucked up in bed, dreaming softly, made his heart skip a beat. Just the image of her innocently lying abed, her radiant skin glowing in the moonlight through a crack in her drapes, the way she breathed ever so gently, made George uncomfortable.
“We are not as we were before.” George sighed deeply, wishing his words were untrue. “My chaperone duties might come into question were I to be seen with one of them.”
Walter cocked his brow. “I had no idea your chaperone duties were so important to you. You had me believe it was a chore, but I am starting to believe differently.”
George stiffened.
“I would not wish to disrespect Lord Westmere’s memory in such a way,” he said as if that were the only thing that mattered to him.
Walter’s expression suggested he hadn’t fallen for it, and George braced himself for further questioning.
Instead, Walter admitted, “I find the temptation far less appealing these days, myself.”
Seeing the opportunity to change the subject from himself, George asked, “Might that have anything to do with the lovely Lady Mary?”
There was no mistaking the way his friend’s cheeks flushed.
“Well, well, I can barely believe my eyes!” a gentleman broke in, approaching the two of them. “Is that you,Your Grace?”
The almost mocking tone of the man’s voice might have angered George were it anyone else. But for once, he was pleased to see the man standing before him. Rushing to his feet to meet Lord Daniel Raymond, he actually smiled.
“Daniel! It is good to see you!” he exclaimed, remembering many fond memories from his time at school. “How are you? How have you been?”
Walter appeared beside him, and the three greeted each other like brothers.
“It appears I am far better than you, George.” Daniel laughed. “People were beginning to think you were never coming back.”
George cringed, knowing exactly what his old friend meant. After all, he had attended many social events over the past few weeks, but in a way, he had never truly been there. His physical body, yes, but his mind had been elsewhere, always.
For the first time in months, he felt as if he were truly present, enjoying the company of old friends.
And just as he and his friends entered into conversation, talking of happier times during the schooling days, George heard someone clear their throat behind him.
