Lady Be Reckless (Duke's Daughters #2)(39)

Be a bastard, Edward thought to himself.

“Your Lady Olivia reminds me of your mother,” his father continued, as though Edward wasn’t conflicted enough about everything. “She is generous and intelligent, and she’d be a good wife.”

This was one time Edward wished he didn’t agree with his father. Because at the moment he couldn’t imagine spending a life with any young lady who wasn’t opinionated, fierce, passionate, and sparkling.

Unfortunately, he knew how that would end—with her trying to foist some unsuspecting young lady on him in some misguided quest for equality in Society, when they both knew there was nothing of the sort.

Or worse, she’d succeed in marrying him off, and then would resume her chase of Bennett.

How could he allow that to happen to his best friend?

He could not.

“I only want what is best for you,” his father said, interrupting his thoughts. “I want you to have what I never did.” His eyes got a distant expression. “I did think about marrying, but any other woman just didn’t compare. And there was you to take care of.” He smiled at Edward, a smile that revealed all of the love he had for his son. “All right,” he said, waving his hand in the air. “I know you won’t stop pestering me until I agree—you’re like me in that way, you know,” he said with a smile, “so we will return to our country home at the end of the week.”

“Long enough for you to see your regular doctor and take his advice?” Edward knew how slippery his father could be when it came to his words. The man was renowned in business circles, at least, for saying things that seemed to indicate one course, only to mean something entirely different when it came to a closer examination.

“Yes. I will stay in the country until things are resolved.”

Edward narrowed his gaze at his father, wondering what he was missing in the somewhat vague words. But he didn’t want to spend time when his father should be resting arguing about it, so he merely nodded.

“I’ll make all the preparations,” he said.

Taking his father back home was the right thing to do. Even though it meant he wouldn’t be able to watch Lady Olivia fail in her attempt to make him into a respectable member of Society. Even though he wouldn’t watch as she introduced him to various young ladies who would probably rather swallow their dance cards then waltz with him.

Even though he wouldn’t be able to kiss her again, watch as she argued vociferously in defense of one of her causes.

But it wasn’t about him. He owed everything to his father, and he was going to sacrifice everything. A week or so ago, that sacrifice had been to try to gain acceptance into Society. Now it was to spend the rest of his life with a lady who could tolerate him.



“But you must meet him, Miss Hunter. I insist.” Olivia smiled at the young lady opposite her, trying to look reassuring. Judging by the expression on the other lady’s face, it was more likely she had on what Pearl liked to call her “You Must Do What I Say” Face. “Mr. Wolcott has just come to town and doesn’t know that many people. I told our mutual acquaintance Lord Carson that I would endeavor to expand his circle of friends.” She glanced over to where Mr. Wolcott stood, slightly outside the various groups of people sipping beverages while eviscerating one another’s reputations. He stuck out from among all of them, a tall, dark, arrogantly curled gentleman whose expression bore its usual distant expression.

Was it her imagination, or did he look slightly wistful?

“But Mr. Wolcott is Mr. Beechcroft’s—” And then Miss Hunter paused, holding her hand up to her mouth as though she couldn’t possibly utter the word that was in both of their minds.

Bastard.

“Well, he is,” Olivia said in a terse voice. “That is true. Mr. Beechcroft has taken Mr. Wolcott in and recognized him as his own. Would you have preferred he left him in an orphanage? Because I promise you, those places are not ones where any child should be left.”

The instinctual sorrow she felt when she considered those places, and those children, threatened to overwhelm her for a moment. Miss Hunter had likely never visited an orphanage, and likely had no idea what children who weren’t in their own privileged position faced.

But Olivia did. And she was glad that Mr. Wolcott had managed to avoid that future, even though it meant he would have to meet ladies such as Miss Hunter, who looked terrified at the thought of meeting someone of Mr. Wolcott’s birth. Miss Hunter’s own family included a spendthrift brother, which was why the family was in straitened circumstances and why Olivia had chosen her. But he was legitimately born, so that meant he was more important and accepted than Mr. Wolcott.

But it was not the time to get angry at someone’s naiveté. “Please, Miss Hunter.” Olivia glanced over again, sighing in relief. “And look, Lord Carson has joined him. I can introduce you to both of them.”

“Well, in that case,” Miss Hunter said, nodding her head in agreement.

The two ladies walked to where Mr. Wolcott and Lord Carson stood, Mr. Wolcott’s eyes traveling over her body in a lazy assessment that made her skin prickle.

Which made her angry, because why was he daring to look at her that way, when he knew perfectly well that they should not have kissed and it was only an unfortunate emotional moment that they should both regret?