“Excuse me, gentlemen, your grace. I need to go and get a spot of fresh air. I shall return momentarily.”
As he made his way toward the terrace doors, Francis sent a second note of gratitude to the gods on high. With the happy bride and groom having slipped quietly out a side door an hour earlier, he was now spared the torture of having to linger and make further small talk with other guests. The official part of the evening was over, and he was well within his rights to make his own escape.
On his way outside, he grabbed another drink and downed it quickly. The footman didn’t have time to move away before he grabbed a second glass.
The brandy was finally starting to have the desired effect. He no longer cared what his father or family thought. They were wrong, and in due course, he would be proven right. In the meantime, he was going to avoid them for the rest of the evening.
There is not enough alcohol in me to go back and face that pride of lions. I am done.
A friendly face caught his eye. Clare Radley waved him over. She rose from her chair as Francis approached, motioning to the terrace doors. He followed her outside.
The second he stepped through the doors, a chill breeze smacked him in the face, and he staggered back. He had never understood how one could be relatively sober inside a building, but suddenly be four parts to the wind the second you breathed a spot of fresh air. He was no longer just a little tipsy; he was drunk.
“You have been giving the brandy a bit of a nudge, cousin dearest,” said Clare. She reached out and took a firm grip of his arm.
“Is it that obvious?” replied Francis.
“Well, it is considering that every time I have glanced in your direction over the past hour or so I have seen you lifting a full glass of brandy to your lips. Lady Denford went and had a word with the head butler the second you downed that last drink.”
Oh, wonderful.
If Viscountess Denford had spoken to the servants about his imbibing, they would be avoiding Francis like the plague. He wouldn’t be getting another glass of brandy anytime soon.
I had better nurse this one. Or leave.
“Why are you drinking so heavily this evening, Francis? You are not normally one for making a mess of yourself,” said Clare.
She was right. Francis normally prided himself on restraint in public situations. He had learned the lessons of his father, who had secured a number of important business deals through people he had met at social functions. A sober mind gave a man control over his words and, most importantly, the impression he made on others.
Clare’s words resonated as strongly with him as Eve’s had.
How was it that the men with their lecturing hadn’t been able to reach him, yet the women had?
Business might well be of great importance to him, but it still didn’t give him the right to go getting drunk at a family celebration. To go shaming both himself and his parents. Clare had a valid point. He had to stop drinking.
“I’m sorry. I have a lot on my plate at the moment, and today has just not been the sort of day that I needed.”
She touched a hand to his cheek. “And Aunt Adelaide is not making your life any easier by putting pressure on you to find a spouse. Believe me, I am getting the same from my parents.”
Francis raised an eyebrow in response. He hadn’t thought that the rest of the family knew about Adelaide’s plans to marry off her youngest son.
“You and I are some of the few eligible offspring left in our families. With Maggie now married, it is only a matter of time before my parents start throwing every bachelor in London in my path.” Clare shuddered. “I will be expected to choose one of them. God help me.”
In silent accord, they moved away from the doorway and any prying eyes. Clare wrapped her arms about her. “I just don’t understand why they feel that we have to rush into marriage.”
Francis stared at the brandy glass in his hand and sighed. “I know we all want to find a life partner at some point. I don’t want to be alone. A wife and family would be a wonderful thing to have. But not just now.”
“At least you can use the shipping company as an excuse not to be on the hunt for a wife. According to my mother, finding a husband is the only thing I should be putting my efforts fully into. I am not looking forward to the trip to Strathmore Castle this year. Mama will be dropping hints the moment we leave town.”
Francis pitied Clare. While the coming weeks of Christmas and Hogmanay would likely involve their usual fun and family games, it also meant the matchmaking mamas would have their unwed offspring captive within the castle. He had been planning to leave it to the last minute to tell anyone else in the family that he wasn’t going to join the Radley family expedition up north but lying to Clare wouldn’t be fair.
“I am not going to Scotland. I have too much to do here,” replied Francis.
Clare let out a gasp. “You swine. I was counting on you to spirit me away whenever Mama wanted to have a private chat. Now what am I going to do?”
“I’m sorry, Clare. But please don’t mention my not going to your parents. Not yet. I have already told my father and he agreed to wait a few days before telling Mama.”
The brandy has loosened my lips.
