“What isthatsupposed to mean?”
“It’s supposed to mean that you cannot possibly have the money to invest in a new venture.”
“It’s hardly a new venture. It’s an established business – Fairfax Porcelain, for your information.”
“I’ve never heard of them,” Alexander muttered to himself.
“Well, no,youwouldn’t have. The owner is getting old, he has no sons, and it sounds like his daughter is keeping it all afloat.”
Alexander snorted. “I’m sure she valuesyourinput, then.”
“She certainly does not. But we’re getting away from the point.”
“Which is?”
“Which is that I may not need to marry at all to get my money.”
“Or,” Alexander said heavily, “you’ll try scheme after scheme until the deadline elapses, then spend your life sponging off the rest of us whoaremarried.”
This comment stung, but Henry reminded himself that Alexander was almost certainly drunk, and therefore in an unfortunate state of honesty. He contented himself with an eyeroll, taking the next shot. He missed the ball, and so his turn was over. It was hard not to blame Alexander for the missed shot. His wretched brother was distracting him, as always, slurping his wine too loudly and pouring yet more into the glass with an infuriatingslop-slop-slop, spilling ruby drops over the side of the glass. It was fair to assume thathewould not be cleaning up those wine stains.
“You are incredibly annoying, brother,” he muttered. “Can I assume that you intend to marry?”
Alexander was quiet for a long moment.
“Yes,” he said at last. “I… I know you all joke about me being charming with the ladies, but it’s truly not that simple. I want a connection, brother.”
Henry bit his lip. “Perhaps we shouldn’t tease you so much.”
“It’s alright. I just… I haven’t met anyone who really intrigues me. And now that it matters, now that Iwantto find somebody, it seems that I can’t manage it. I’m always saying the wrong thing. I’ve offended no less than four ladies this Season, and at the last ball I went to, I trod on somebody’s hem and tore it. She and her mother haven’t forgiven me.”
“Well, for the next ball – Mrs Florence Everett’s birthday ball, is that right? – may I suggest you don’t dance?”
It was meant to be a joke, but Henry had never been good at jokes, and Alexander did not smile.
“A man who wishes to court must dance,” Alexander muttered. “I’m not William. I’m not a duke – he’s got that going for him, even if he were the rudest man in the world. None of us are bad looking, but I’m certainly bottom of the pile.”
Henry flinched. “What are you talking about?”
The Willenshire siblings famously resembled each other. They all had fine chestnut locks, shot through with gold and brown and red, with large hazel eyes which could almost change colour depending on the light and their mood, and they had rich olive skin too.
Alexander smiled tiredly at his brother. “I’m getting plump, Henry.”
“Plenty of women appreciate a plump man,” Henry said firmly.
“If you say so. But I have no money, and I have a reputation for drinking too much, gambling, and flirting when I should not. What woman is going to risk everything for that? For athird son?”
“You are not being fair to yourself.”
“On the contrary, I think I’m being rather generous.” Alexander sighed, draining his wine glass once again. How many had he drunk? Henry didn’t dare wonder about that. “I was thinking,” Alexander continued, slowly and almost about painfully, “About writing to her.”
Slow on the uptake, Henry blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Lady Diana Lockwell,” Alexander said heavily, not meeting his brother’s eye.
Henry dropped his billiard cue. “Are you mad, Alex?”
“Not at all. Just desperate.”
