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Chapter 9

For the next few hours, Adam watched Beatrice laugh and dance to her heart’s content. Her spectacles got misty more often, her smile was permanently etched on her mouth, and her cheeks were bright and rosy. She was happy, damn it. And he had to agree that happiness looked good on her.

He had intervened a couple of times with his picks for her dance partners, but since they were scattered few and far between Isabel’s meddling picks, Beatrice didn’t seem to mind. She even seemed to enjoy herself as she danced with the young, clumsy, and awkward Mr. Porden, an heir to Viscount Porden, whose mother had made him come to this ball as an attempt to thrust him into the marriage mart.

The poor lad had thanked Adam profusely for setting him up to dance with Miss Fowley, as he was too frightened and jittery to ask anyone himself. And since she was already betrothed to be married, he felt less ill at ease speaking to her, although sweat dripped on his forehead just talking about the prospect.

Isabel, on her part, had started with the people closest and dearest to her like her husband, her brother-in-law, then her friend, the Duchess of Somerset’s husband, Viscount St. Clare. She had skipped Gage, probably because he was Beatrice’s former betrothed, or perhaps she couldn’t find him as he seemed to have slipped away somewhere with his wife.

Luckily, Alan, their youngest brother, wasn’t in attendance, as he’d be next. Adam felt a strange pit in his stomach when thinking of his little brother dancing with Beatrice, although he couldn’t rationalize the feeling. Alan would have liked her, no doubt. And they would have made a gorgeous couple on the dance floor. The feeling intensified, making Adam slightly nauseous.

When Isabel ran out of family members and friends, she enlisted the help of young, eligible bachelors. As a hostess, she had no issue introducing the most eligible men to Miss Fowley and staring at them until they asked her for a dance. By the end of the third set, Beatrice’s dance card had been filled, and Adam had no desire to watch her smile and blush at her dance partners, so he slipped onto a patio to enjoy a bit of fresh air.

Adam found solace in a comfortable corner, leaning against the cool, marble pillar, and reached into his pocket, retrieving a finely rolled cigar. He admired it for a moment, grateful for a moment of reprieve and solitude before cutting the cap and lighting the cigar.

He took a slow, deliberate puff, relishing the flavorful smoke that filled his mouth.

“You look rather tired for a man who neither danced nor engaged young, marriage-minded ladies in conversation,” the Earl of Sutton, Adam’s old school friend, said as he entered the patio.

Adam silently reached inside his coat pocket, took out a cigar, and nudged it toward him.

“Thank you.” Sutton accepted the cigar and took his time measuring and cutting its cap. “Similarly, you disappeared from the Hades’ masquerade without a word long before the fireworks.”

Adam grunted.

“Well?” Sutton finally lit his cigar and pressed it between his lips.

“Did you ask me a question?”

Sutton let out a laugh, and smoke puffed out of his mouth. “I suppose I have not. However, it was implied. Where’s your mind engaged these days?”

An obstinate little bluestocking. “A lot of things.”

“Enlighten me.”

Adam puffed out a cloud of smoke. “Why are you so interested in my affairs all of a sudden? Widows of the ton not keeping you occupied?”

“Have they ever?” Sutton replied dryly, and the answer made Adam raise his brows. Sutton was married, but he and his wife never appeared at functions together. Or more precisely, his wife had barely appeared at any functions at all. Rumors had circled the couple for years, but nobody, not even their closest friends, knew the true state of their marriage. Most just assumed the rumors about Sutton’s countless infidelities were true. But his words now made Adam pause.

“I received a note from Blackwood, or I should say Tyrone, now, shouldn’t I?” Sutton quickly changed the subject.

“Is he coming to claim his inheritance, then? Didn’t think we’d ever witness him gracing England with his presence.”

“He’s a duke now. I suppose he’d want to reap the benefits if not sow chaos.”

“If I were him, I’d stay away,” Adam said. “There is nothing he can’t do from abroad. And I heard he’d gotten into quite a few adventures.”

“Is that a note of jealousy I hear in your tone?” Sutton raised a brow.

“Perhaps.” Adam shrugged his broad shoulders. “I am getting tired of sitting on my arse here in England.”

“You’ve been growing impatient for a while now. I wonder why you are still here. What is holding you?”

Adam thought for a moment, tugging on the cigar. “My siblings, I suppose. First, Gage needed help with his newly acquired title, my sisters needed support and a chaperone before they got married. Gage still says he needs my help with his lands, but with Alan back, I feel like I can finally fly the coop. But unlike Alan, I am not interested in gallivanting through the Continent, drinking wine and studying art.” He would be lying if he’d said he’d never considered it. He had. He even wanted to get his Grand Tour. But after thinking about it for a while, he decided that it wasn’t for him. What was for him? That he didn’t know.

“What is it you want then?” Sutton seemed truly interested. Either that, or he was absolutely bored, and Adam’s ramblings were better than the empty walls of his townhouse or even the crowded walls of the ballroom.

Adam let out a huff, a puff of smoke permeating the air. “A purpose.”