evening, do they?” he commented as Timothy rolled his eyes at his friend’s remark. “Are they pushing you away? Is that what troubles you so?”
“It does not matter to me what they think of me,” Timothy growled, knowing that such words from his mouth were nothing more than lies. “They are fools, all of them.”
Lord Holland scowled, the smile vanishing. “They are not all fools, Coventry,” he said, a warning note in his voice. “They are entitled to believe Lord Chesterton if that is what they so wish.”
Timothy growled, but his friend did not remove himself from his side nor retract his comment.
“You know very well that I am certain you did not attack Lord Chesterton,” he continued with a wave of his hand. “I trust you when you say you did not, simply because of the friendship that we share with one another. But others do not know you as I, and thus, they believe the word of Lord Chesterton.”
“The man lied,” Timothy growled, his jaw working furiously as he recalled how Lord Chesterton had revealed his injuries to all the guests at a ball that Timothy had thrown. Lord Chesterton had swaggered into the room, inciting gasps of shock and dismay from everyone. Timothy had stared in horror as Lord Chesterton had garnered everyone’s attention by declaring that Timothy had beaten him the night of his dinner party and that he alone was responsible for these injuries.
The reality had been that Timothy, whilst being the last to take his leave, had left Lord Chesterton uninjured and had even spoken to him briefly about his sister, the lovely Lady Margaret, whom Timothy had thought himself in love with. He had explained that whilst he understood the reasons for Lord Chesterton’s decision, he was deeply disappointed and could only pray that she would find someone worthy of her—and then he had taken his leave.
Why Lord Chesterton had done such a thing to him, why he had pretended that it had been Timothy who had been the one to injure him so, Timothy had never understood. He had been made the scapegoat and even now, one year later, his reputation was still badly tainted. The disgrace that surrounded him was more than a little upsetting, for it was a disgrace that he did not deserve. Lady Parrington—as she was now—had never spoken to him again, turning from him within society and making it quite plain that she would not so much as look at him again. Even their mutual acquaintance, Lady Rachelle, had sided with society, choosing to turn her back on him entirely.
And, unfortunately, for whatever reason, this was something Timothy had to endure, regardless of whether or not he claimed his innocence in the matter. Everyone knew that he had something against Lord Chesterton and thus, the beau monde, almost as a whole, believed that he had done this terrible thing. It was just as well he was an earl, for most likely, had he been anything lower, the ton would have given him the cut and he would not have been welcome anywhere at all.
“Have you asked anyone to dance this evening, then?” Lord Holland asked, changing the conversation entirely. “Do you dare to do so?”
“I have not done so as yet,” Timothy replied smartly. “But I am certain that I shall do so.” He had not told Lord Holland yet about his intentions to be introduced to, to dance with, and to assess Miss Delilah Mullins, his intended. If he found himself quite pleased with her, as her uncle was certain he would, then the marriage would begin to be planned almost immediately.
“And which of the pleasing young ladies has caught your eye this evening?” Lord Holland pressed, his questions beginning to irritate Timothy somewhat. “They all look quite marvelous, indeed, I must say.” His grin was a little salacious and Timothy rolled his eyes, knowing full well that Lord Holland had no intention of courting and thereafter marrying a lady of his choosing. Lord Holland merely enjoyed the company of as many beautiful young ladies as possible.
“I must confess, there is a young lady that has captured my attention, although I do not know who she is,” Lord Holland continued, having either ignored Timothy’s rolling of his eyes or not quite caught it. “Do you see her?” He gestured with his chin, pointing it straight ahead of him. With an inward sigh, Timothy forced himself to look at whoever this young lady was, seeing a slender