Chapter One
Graham
Early Spring, 1812
Mayfair
London, England
Graham tugged athis cravat for the third time in as many minutes. His entire world had been turned upside down, resulting in his attendance at the first ball of the London Season. Every second since he arrived, he fought the urge to bolt from the stuffy ballroom like a timid colt. The crystal chandeliers threw dancing shadows across marble floors that probably cost more than most men earned in a lifetime. And the eyes fixed on him everywhere he looked caused his calloused palms to sweat inside his evening gloves.
Just days ago, he had been preparing for colt season at his home in the country, where he bred and raised horses. And now, here he was, the new Earl of Powis, and every person in this ballroom knew he didn’t belong. He hadn’t been born among this set, and he could assume he only received an invitation so the whole of society might have something to talk about in their drawing rooms.
He shouldn’t have agreed to attend, but after the tense visit from Silas Rothwell this morning, it would benefit him to make more connections. At least that was what Matt said. Graham wasn’t certain he agreed now that he’d entered the lion’s den.
Forty-five thousand pounds. That was the sum of the gambling debts his dissolute cousin left for Graham to deal with.
“You look ready to flee,” Matt observed, appearing at his elbow with two glasses of champagne. “Drink this. It will help.”
Graham accepted the glass gratefully. Matt, the Earl of Wilton, had been his salvation these past weeks. They had been friends of sorts when Matt was his customer, stocking his stables with the fine horseflesh that Graham had raised alongside his cousin.
“I hope you have more where this came from,” Graham jested, taking a healthy swallow of champagne. “Because I’m quite unequipped to navigate all of this.”
“You managed to build the finest horse breeding operation in England,” Matt said firmly. “You can manage this. Half of these peacocks couldn’t manage a profitable estate if their lives depended on it.”
He wasn’t certain he could manage a profitable estate either. Especially once he determined what he had to do to raise the funds to pay Rothwell. Raising horses and running estates weren’t exactly the same thing. And now he wouldn’t even get to work with the horses anymore. Men of his station didn’t “work,” so the business would be fully in John’s hands while Graham did whatever it was that an earl did.
And unfortunately, his business didn’t earn enough money to pay the debt. And letting his mother or his cousin know about his situation was the last thing he wished to do.
It had only been a week since he had found out about the unexpected inheritance, so he was mostly learning as he went. His education started with etiquette and dance instruction that Matt had insisted on. Matt wasn’t aware that he had far bigger problems than how he carried himself in society. But he took his friend’s advice, deciding it was better to have a friend. And even with the lessons, he would stay as far away from the dance floor as possible if he had anything to say about it.
He ran his hand through his hair, catching himself in the nervousgesture his mother had always chided him for. But she was settled back in Sussex, sending him to face the wolves alone. He assumed she would prefer to remain in hiding there. His father’s constant dance with scandal in the form of affairs and dalliances, had taught her long ago to avoid society’s scrutiny.
“Come,” Matt said, placing a steady hand on Graham’s shoulder. “I want you to meet some good friends of mine. These men have been looking forward to an introduction.”
They moved through the crowd, Graham conscious of heads turning and whispered tittering all around them. Everyone knew the previous Earl of Powis had been a dissolute wastrel. They were all waiting to see if the new earl would follow suit.
If only they knew how far from the truth that was. Graham had sworn off his father’s libertine path years ago, after watching what such behavior cost the women left behind. Especially his mother.
“Elias,” Matt called as they approached a group alongside a nearby wall. “Allow me to present the Earl of Powis. Graham, meet Viscount Snowdon.”
The viscount was a pleasant-faced man with kind eyes and an easy smile. He extended his hand to Graham. “Powis, a pleasure. I’ve heard a lot about you. Any friend of Matt’s is welcome among us.”
“Thank you, my lord. I’m grateful for the introduction.” Graham meant it. These few moments of normal conversation made him feel far less alone.
“Hudson Brooks, Earl of Onslow,” another voice joined them, though the tone carried less warmth. Graham turned to face a dark-haired man whose sharp gaze burned through him.
“Lord Onslow.” Graham inclined his head politely.
“So you’re a friend of Wilton’s?” Hudson didn’t seem as if he actually intended for Graham to answer the question. “I’ll assume that your character is far superior to his and do my best to overlook the association.”
The insult was clearly aimed at Matt. Graham glanced between the two men, noting the tension that crackled between them. Matt’s jaw tightened, but he maintained his composure.
“Always a pleasure, Onslow,” Matt said with forced cheer. “I see you’re in your usual charming mood.”
“My mood was well enough before you made your presence known,” Hudson replied coldly.
Elias cleared his throat. “Hudson, we’ve all been friends since we were boys. Can you just for one night—”
