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The Dowager tsked, shaking her head as if Benedict was just a particularly annoying child.
“You are too fussy, Benedict. You have to pick one of them, and that’s that.”
“Iam happy as I am, Grandmother.”
“Don’t be so naïve. None of this is about happiness. It’s about settling down and getting yourself an heir. All the other titled nobles your age are finding brides and having children, and you are frankly falling behind. Only last week, the Earl of Berwick married a most suitable young lady – one of the Westerfield Greens, you know – andhehas several younger brothers.”
Benedict sighed. “The Earl of Berwick is an idiot. He probably got married just so that he could have someone to drone on to about his gardening hobby.”
“You are missing the point. You have to marry, Benedict. Soon.”
Benedict shoveled a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth, chewing furiously while he thought up a reply. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he really was going to have to be firm. Benedict had seen, met, and spoken to the cream of what Society had to offer, and he was not impressed. It seemed that every young lady was an exact copy of the next, with variations in hair and eye color.
They got dreadfully upset if you accidentally took them for another young lady, too.
None of them seemed to have anything worthwhile to say, and conversation slowed to a halt whenever Benedict was around. Were these young ladies really intimated by a tall man who didn’t simper like the rest of the dandies?
It was insufferable. The latest of his grandmother’s offerings – a young woman with wispy blonde hair and a tendency to giggle irritatingly – had told Benedict that he had eyes like a Basilisk. She insisted that it was a compliment, and Benedict could only assume that she didn’t know what a Basilisk was.
Fortunately, Benedict was spared from making a reply by a burst of chatter and clatter from the hall, which heralded Joshua’s arrival.
“Good morning, all!” Joshua Eaton burst into the breakfast-room, beaming around. “Ah, Benedict, you’ve joined us! How nice.”
“Hello, Joshua. Better late than never, I suppose.” Benedict said, tucking away a smile.
“Good morning, Your Grace.” Joshua said, his smile softening as he addressed the Dowager.
Joshua had lived with them since he was six years old, a grubby little urchin who had -unsuccessfully, one might add- attempted to break into the scullery and steal food. He was collared by the cook, who was about to call the authorities when the Dowager intervened.
Joshua Eaton was a nobody, an orphaned boy who had decided that he’d had enough of the orphanage’s cruelties. He’d run away and was being hotly pursued by the orphanage in question.
He had plenty to say in his own defense -having things to say, they later found out, was one of Joshua’s overwhelming qualities- and the Dowager was instantly charmed.
His arrival was perfect. The house was in mourning after a terrible loss, and the Dowager’s orphaned grandson was in great need of a friend.
Besides, the Dowager had heard the boy’s tales of woe and decided that he was not, under any circumstances, going back to that orphanage.
The rest, as they say, was history. Joshua and Benedict were firm friends, and sometimes Benedict forgot that Joshua wasn’t a blood relative of his. He lived with the Dowager all year round, managing her estate and keeping her spirits up.
Oh, and running up a tremendous bill at the tailors.
Joshua took his usual seat and reached forward to snatch the last piece of toast, which Benedict was just about to take.
Benedict glared him.
The Dowager pointedly cleared her throat. “As I was saying, Benedict, you must start thinking seriously about marriage. I would like grandchildren, you know. Great-grandchildren, that is. I’d like to think that I’d done my duty by you and our family before I die. I want to see you with a family, otherwise you’ll have no one once I am gone.”
“Nonsense! Benedict and I will always have each other.” Joshua said cheerfully, nudging Benedict with his elbow.
The Dowager rounded on him. “I don’t know what you’re smiling at. You need to marry too, Joshua. An heiress if possible. I’ll drag you to the altar if I must.”
Joshua wilted a little under the Dowager’s onslaught, much to Benedict’s amusement.
His amusement didn’t last long. The Dowager glared at Benedict until he stopped smiling.
“Iam not funning, Benedict. This is serious. Now, I’ve reviewed every eligible young lady in town this Season, and I have come up with a list.”
Joshua choked on his toast. Benedict stared at his grandmother in horror.
