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“The Americans are all utterly ridiculous,” Blaire said, her lips curling into an amused smile.
Reginald’s aunt had a sort of infectious cheer about her, which made it difficult not to return her smiles. Indeed, Reginald felt his own lips twitch into the tiniest of smiles.
“I’ve met a few Americans,” Reginald said, “and I’ve found them to be very lovely people.”
Blaire shrugged. “We’ll see. I’ve heard that there’s an American heiress coming tonight.”
Anheiresswasn’t the type of American Reginald meant, but he also knew that no one at the ball would be the sort of person he liked. He tried not to grimace when he thought of Lady Marcella and that ridiculous, superficial nonsense she’d written in her letter to him. Could he really bear to be married to someone like that for the rest of his life?
Possibly they’d be able to come to some arrangement. He could mind his affairs, and she could mind hers. They’d have an heir and spend most of their marriage ignoring one another. It wouldn’t be anidealmarriage and certainly not one Reginald had envisioned, but it seemed infinitely preferable to having to always endure the company of a lady like that.
“And many other ladies besides,” Simon added.
All the more people to utterly embarrass himself in front of.
“Including my own bride-to-be,” Reginald said dryly.
Blaire’s face softened. “You poor dear,” she said.
Although Reginald didn’t want her pity, he felt his guard lower just a little. There was something earnest and kind in his aunt’s face, and as she looked at him, Reginald felt that she really might understand the maelstrom of feelings swirling in his heart.
“For what it’s worth,” Blaire said, “thetonis eager to meet you. Our hearts were all broken when you left, and having you returned is like a miracle. A dream come true. They will be prepared to accept you, and I imagine they’ll be quite tender towards you, too. None of us expect that you’ve survived the last decade unscathed.”
Oh, Reginald felt quite sure thetonwouldactthat charitably, but would they really mean it? Or would their kindness be only a thin veneer, something they could use to conceal how they truly perceived him, as being an outsider? A curiosity.
“Thank you,” Reginald said.
He felt that his aunt, at least, understood. Maybe that was enough, just to know that he had someone who was sympathetic to his plight. It was really noble of her, with his arrival heralding her own son losing his title.
It’s for the best, though. Even if there’s so much I’ve forgotten and so much I never learned, I know well enough how to manage money, at least. I would’ve never survived if I didn’t.
“You’ll manage,” she continued, “and we’ll all be there to support you throughout the night. I’ve no doubt Lady Marcella will be quite charmed by you.”
“And she has a sizeable dowry,” Simon said.
A sizeable dowry could help so many worthy souls. Reginald just needed to keep telling himself that.
“Thank God,” Simon continued. “Otherwise…”
Blaire cast him a withering look, and Simon immediately fell silent, a sheepish smile crossing his face.
“Otherwise?” Reginald asked. “Is there something wrong with the lady?”
“Oh, it’s only idle gossip,” Blaire said. “Don’t listen to it, my dear nephew. I’m quite sure you’ll be fine. Lady Marcella is a reasonable girl, whatever else she may be.”
Reginald’s father joined them. He seemed to anticipate enjoying the night. His steps seemed lighter, his face brighter, and he looked somehow, impossibly, younger.
“Ah, my boy! There you are!” his father exclaimed. “You look so wonderful. Just like a proper gentleman!”
That didn’t mean hewasone, though. He could wear the clothes of a gentleman and even have the background of one, but that didn’t mean hewasone. It didn’t mean he could persuade an entire ballroom filled with thetonthat hewasone of them, much less worthy of being a Marquess.
“Thank you, Father,” Reginald said.
It was really an empty sentiment. He didn’t know whether he ought to be grateful or not. True, he hadn’t fancied being imprisoned or hanged, but he still felt as though the mantle he was being asked to bear was too heavy. He wasn’t sure if his conscience could handle this life, being a gentleman surrounded by such splendor and indulgence despite quickly accumulating debt. Poor men with debt were sent to debtors’ prison, something neither he nor his cousin would ever be forced to face the horrors of.
I need to remember what is important here. I need to remember that if I’m a Marquess, I’ll be able to help them, and to become that Marquess and earn my fortune, I need to marry Lady Marcella.
“Your Grace,” Blaire greeted him warmly. “It shouldn’t surprise you that my dear nephew looks like a gentleman. I’m quite sure that your own genteel breeding would show even if you were clad in a flour sack, if I may be so bold.”
