Anthony nodded once. “I see. So you have no intention of entering society. I’m impressed by your resolve. But allow me to warn you—even if you do not choose to attend the ton’s events, they will find you.”
Simon, who had chosen that moment to take a sip of his brandy, choked on the spirit at the look on Anthony’s face when he said, “they.” After a few moments of coughing and sputtering, he finally managed to say, “Who, pray tell, are ‘they’?”
Anthony shuddered. “Mothers.”
“Not having had one myself, I can’t say I grasp your point.”
“Society mothers, you dolt. Those fire-breathing dragons with daughters of—God help us—marriageable age. You can run, but you’ll never manage to hide from them. And I should warn you, my own is the worst of the lot.”
“Good God. And here I thought Africa was dangerous.”
Anthony shot his friend a faintly pitying look. “They will hunt you down. And when they find you, you will find yourself trapped in conversation with a pale young lady all dressed in white who cannot converse on topics other than the weather, who received vouchers to Almack’s, and hair ribbons.”
A look of amusement crossed Simon’s features. “I take it, then, that during my time abroad you have become something of an eligible gentleman?”
“Not out of any aspirations to the role on my part, I assure you. If it were up to me, I’d avoid society functions like the plague. But my sister made her bow last year, and I’m forced to escort her from time to time.”
“Daphne, you mean?”
Anthony looked up in surprise. “Did the two of you ever meet?”
“No,” Simon admitted, “but I remember her letters to you at school, and I recalled that she was fourth in the family, so she had to start with D, and—”
“Ah, yes,” Anthony said with a slight roll of his eyes, “the Bridgerton method of naming children. Guaranteed to make certain no one forgets who you are.”
Simon laughed. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“Say, Simon,” Anthony suddenly said, leaning forward, “I’ve promised my mother I’ll have dinner at Bridgerton House later this week with the family. Why don’t you join me?”
Simon raised a dark brow. “Didn’t you just warn me about society mothers and debutante daughters?”
Anthony laughed. “I’ll put my mother on her best behavior, and don’t worry about Daff. She’s the exception that proves the rule. You’ll like her immensely.”
Simon narrowed his eyes. Was Anthony playing matchmaker? He couldn’t tell.
As if Anthony were reading his thoughts, he laughed. “Good God, you don’t think I’m trying to pair you off with Daphne, do you?”
Simon said nothing.
“You would never suit. You’re a bit too brooding for her tastes.”
Simon thought that an odd comment, but instead chose to ask, “Has she had any offers, then?”
“A few.” Anthony kicked back the rest of his brandy, then let out a satisfied exhale. “I’ve allowed her to refuse them all.”
“That’s rather indulgent of you.”
Anthony shrugged. “Love is probably too much to hope for in a marriage these days, but I don’t see why she shouldn’t be happy with her husband. We’ve had offers from one man old enough to be her father, another old enough to be her father’s younger brother, one who was rather too high in the instep for our often boisterous clan, and then this week, dear God, that was the worst!”
“What happened?” Simon asked curiously.
Anthony gave his temples a weary rub. “This last one was perfectly amiable, but a rather bit dim in the head. You’d think, after our rakish days, I’d be completely without feelings—”
“Really?” Simon asked with a devilish grin. “You’d think that?”
Anthony scowled at him. “I didn’t particularly enjoy breaking this poor fool’s heart.”
“Er, wasn’t Daphne the one to do that?”
“Yes, but I had to tell him.”
“Not many brothers would allow their sister such latitude with their marriage proposals,” Simon said quietly.
Anthony just shrugged again, as if he couldn’t imagine treating his sister in any other way. “She’s been a good sister to me. It’s the least I can do.”
“Even if it means escorting her to Almack’s?” Simon said wickedly.
Anthony groaned. “Even then.”
“I’d console you by pointing out that this will all be over soon, but you’ve what, three other sisters waiting in the wings?”
Anthony positively slumped in his seat. “Eloise is due out in two years, and Francesca the year after that, but then I’ve a bit of a reprieve before Hyacinth comes of age.”
Simon chuckled. “I don’t envy you your responsibilities in that quarter.” But even as he said the words, he felt a strange longing, and he wondered what it would be like to be not quite so alone in this world. He had no plans to start a family of his own, but maybe if he’d had one to begin with, his life would have turned out a bit differently.
“So you’ll come for supper, then?” Anthony stood. “Informal, of course. We never take meals formally when it’s just family.”
Simon had a dozen things to do in the next few days, but before he could remind himself that he needed to get his affairs in order, he heard himself saying, “I’d be delighted.”
“Excellent. And I’ll see you at the Danbury bash first?”
Simon shuddered. “Not if I can help it. My aim is to be in and out in under thirty minutes.”
“You really think,” Anthony said, raising a doubtful brow, “that you’re going to be able to go to the party, pay your respects to Lady Danbury, and leave?”
Simon’s nod was forceful and direct.
But Anthony’s snort of laughter was not terribly reassuring.
Chapter 2
The new Duke of Hastings is a most interesting character. While it is common knowledge that he was not on favorable terms with his father, even This Author is unable to learn the reason for the estrangement.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 26 APRIL 1813
Later that week, Daphne found herself standing on the fringes of Lady Danbury’s ballroom, far away from the fashionable crowd. She was quite content with her position.
Normally she would have enjoyed the festivities; she liked a good party as well as the next young lady, but earlier that evening, Anthony had informed her that Nigel Berbrooke had sought him out two days earlier and asked for her hand. Again. Anthony had, of course, refused (again!), but Daphne had the sinking feeling that Nigel was going to prove uncomfortably persistent. After all, two marriage proposals in two weeks did not paint a picture of a man who accepted defeat easily.
Across the ballroom she could see him looking this way and that, and she shrank further into the shadows.
She had no idea how to deal with the poor man. He wasn’t very bright, but he also wasn’t unkind, and though she knew she had to somehow put an end to his infatuation, she was finding it far easier to take the coward’s way out and simply avoid him.