Page 44 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

“It is the Season, Norman.” One of the men pushed a glass of brandy into the newcomer’s hand while Edward shook his head. The men had all gone mad. “Widows and ambitious mamas are sharpening their claws—and our dear friend here, the Colonel, is unattached.”

“With a fine estate,” Marlowe, the traitor, added with twinkling eyes. “He bought it outright with his prize money from the war, it was in the papers.”

Lord Henry waved the book under Edward’s nose. “You will have every woman over thirty years vying for your attention, Colonel. Leave some for the rest of us!”

Edward pushed the book away, unable to help his grimace. The idea was distasteful, and hopefully far-fetched. “Spare me. My interest in women begins and ends with seeing my ward happily settled. I want nothing more to do with their world.”

Felicity’s knowing smile appeared traitorously in his thoughts.

The men were all laughing—but then, mercifully, they focused on someone else, a lone man in the corner trying to hide behind the newssheets, and the mob moved in that direction. Marlowe shook his head as they went, and Norman gave Edward a consoling pat on the shoulder.

“I am sorry for you, friend,” Norman said.

Edward looked up. “Whatever for?”

“Despite them saying it is the women at work in this mart of theirs,” Marlowe explained, his nose wrinkled, “every one of those fellows has an unwed female relative. You are in their sights now. They will tell their wives, sisters, mothers, cousins, and so on and so forth, all about Colonel Halstead’s bachelorhood.”

“You will be a fine prize.” Norman’s understanding sympathy froze on his face. His eyebrows raised. “Unless, of course, you already have a lady in your sights?”

Edward groaned and closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “No, I do not. My focus is on my ward’s happiness. This is her first Season—she is young. There will likely be more Seasons for young Daphne, I hope there will be more. I have no matrimonial thoughts beyond making certain she is well settled. In time.”

A new voice chuckled with a plummy voice from behind Edward’s chair. “A man who concerns himself only with the happiness of others, and not his own, soon finds himself a ghost haunting the edges of a life he ought to have lived.”

Edward opened his eyes and bolted to his feet. “Lord Blackstone—I did not see you come in.”

Marlowe had stood as well and all three of them bowed to the viscount, who waved aside the formalities.

Norman spoke first. “Forgive me, my lord, but what you said sounded quite philosophical. I did not know you dabbled in such things.”

“Only when I see someone in need of it do I dispense my wisdom.” He chuckled and winked at Edward. “Colonel, you remind me of that owl over the fireplace. Stuck in one place, frozen in time, watching the world move on without him.”

The other two chuckled, but as Edward looked at the owl in question—someone had put a pair of tiny spectacles on its beak—he felt something shift uncomfortably in his chest. He shook his head. “I have been far too often away from my comfortable chair in front of my own fire, my lord. The comparison is not apt.”

“Hmmm. I am not certain of that.” Norman chuckled and leaned against the back of Edward’s chair. “I must be a decade older than you, but you were the one acting like an old codger at our picnic two days’ past.”

Marlowe had not returned to his seat, and when the viscount gestured, the younger man quickly stepped aside to allow Lord Blackstone to take it for himself.

Their host settled into the chair, eyes on Edward the entire time with a maddeningly knowing expression. “You mistake me, Colonel. It is not about movement, it is about stillness. The owl watches the world, but it does not live in it. Tell me, when was the last time you did something simply for the joy of it?”

Edward scoffed. He opened his mouth to speak, then paused. “That…is a good question, my lord.” What had he enjoyed lately? The picnic at Hyde Park had been tolerable. Especially after he and Felicity fed the ducks, then walked along the Serpentine. But he had found the afternoon pleasant because of her company, and he could hardly admit such a thing to these men. They gossiped terribly, it seemed.

“I wonder that you only mention the younger of the two Miss Prices in your concerns, Colonel.” Norman walked around where Edward sat to stand behind Lord Blackstone’s chair instead, raising a quizzical brow as he did so.

It was as though the man had somehow read Edward’s mind, and his stomach twisted uncomfortably. Nevertheless, he spoke with as much coolness in his tone as he could manage. “Miss Felicity Price is not on the marriage mart.”

“And yet she is a handsome woman, is she not?” Norman asked, eyebrows raised. Marlowe and Blackstone both seemed intrigued by this line of questioning.

“I do not think she would take kindly to such discussions about her person.” Edward kept his tone even, yet that seemed to make the three men in front of him all the more curious. Blast.

“Now that is a fascinating response,” Lord Blackstone said, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Absolutely fascinating.”

Edward scowled at all three of them. Though he need not trouble himself, truly. Felicity had said herself she had no thoughts for marriage. She was independent, headstrong, and she did not need him as a defender. He had never asked to occupy that role. Except… Well. He had told her she was part of his household, therefore he concerned himself with her happiness and safety.

“Ah well. As I am a happily married man, and Marlowe too, you have nothing to fear from us.” Norman patted Edward on the shoulder one more time. “But brace yourself, old fellow. It will not be long until people note the charming woman chaperoning your ward, living with you to boot, and will ask more questions.”

At that moment, a footman appeared with a bow. “Colonel Halstead, sir. Your coachman has arrived.”

Edward stood and bowed, saying his farewells with a certain amount of relief before he left in as unhurried a manner as possible. When he stepped out of the club onto the street, he remained unsettled.