“And I consult it regularly,” Alexander replied. “I’d wager you couldn’t decline a noun to save your life.”
“Salva animum tuum.”
“Abi.”
“Boys,” Talia said. Although her voice was stern, she looked amused for the first time that evening. “Pay attention. We’ve the children’s festival next weekend, Alexander, the one to benefit the ragged schools. I’ve invited Lord Castleford to attend, and I’d hoped you would as well.”
“It’s on my calendar, yes.”
Talia smiled. The expression almost startled Alexander. His sister hadn’t directed a smile at him in an age. It was as if a light had been lit inside her and shone onto him.
“Lord Northwood?” A young woman in a green silk gown paused at the edge of their circle and looked up at him. Her lips curved with pleasure. “We were hoping you would be here tonight. We’ve heard so much about the exhibition.”
“Miss Cooper. Allow me to introduce—”
“Lord Castleford, yes, we’re acquainted.” Miss Cooper’s cool gaze passed over Castleford and came to rest on Talia. “And good evening to you, Lady Talia.”
Talia gave the other woman a stiff nod. Castleford curled his hand around Talia’s elbow, murmured an excuse, and guided her toward the refreshment table.
Alexander turned to Miss Cooper, who was looking at him with expectation. He swallowed a sigh.
“How are your parents, Miss Cooper?” he asked.
“Very well, thank you. Mother is leaving for a trip to Paris next week. She plans to visit a renowned modiste, having been recommended by her dear friend Lady Dubois. I do so wish I could accompany her, but I’ve already several social engagements here in London. Will you be attending Lady Whitmore’s ball?”
“I’ve not yet decided,” Alexander replied. “Please convey my best regards to your parents.”
He stepped back, intending the remark as a polite closure to the conversation, but Miss Cooper moved forward into the slight distance he’d created.
“I do hope you’ll be there,” she continued. “And I believe Mother would like to invite you for tea one afternoon before her departure.”
She blinked up at him. Alexander gave a half bow.
“Thank you, Miss Cooper. I shall look forward to receiving the invitation. Do enjoy the remainder of the evening.” He walked away before she could respond and headed for the card room.
Tension stiffened the back of his neck as he wove through the crowd. He ought to have asked Miss Cooper to dance. He ought to have asked her if he could fetch her a glass of champagne. He ought to have told her she looked beautiful. He ought to have bloody well flirted.
A week ago, he might have.
Before he’d met Lydia Kellaway.
He stopped inside the card room. Crossing his arms, he drummed his fingers against his biceps. An image of Lydia appeared in his mind: flushed cheeks, angry eyes, and hot desperation.
“She’s far prettier than Fulton’s sister.” Sebastian stopped beside him.
“Of course she’s prettier than… Oh.” Alexander cleared his throat. “You mean Miss Cooper. Well, yes. She is.”
Sebastian gave him a shrewd look. “Who else would I have been referring to?”
“Any number of young chits, I’d imagine.” Alexander steeled himself against his brother’s curiosity. He’d told Sebastian about his encounter with Miss Kellaway, about the locket, but he hadn’t divulged his growing interest in the woman.
“You ought to take up with one of them,” Sebastian continued. “Plenty around like Miss Cooper. Pretty and a bit idle headed. I assure you such women are a delight to keep company with. Lady Welbourne’s niece is new to town, and word is she’s quite lovely. You ought to attend her ladyship’s dinner party tomorrow, make her niece’s acquaintance.”
“I’ve other business to contend with tomorrow. A meeting with Father’s solicitors. Letters to dictate regarding Floreston Manor.”
Sebastian was quiet for a moment, then moved in front of him. Alexander suppressed the urge to take a step back, to try to deflect whatever it was his brother intended to say.
“Being the firstborn doesn’t mean you need surrender to duty, Alex,” Sebastian said. “It doesn’t mean you need to put responsibility above all.”
Alexander looked past Sebastian’s shoulder to the numerous card games in progress.
“If I do not,” he said, his voice stiff, “who will?”
Sebastian didn’t respond. Alexander shifted his gaze to meet his brother’s eyes. They were both thinking of Rushton. Alexander smothered a rush of frustration directed at their father.
“And you,” he continued, “are the one who suggested I marry. What other reason would I have if not for the future of the earldom? If not for duty?”
Sebastian stepped back. An odd flash of disappointment