“But haven’t you already had dance lessons?” he repeated, feeling rather like a daft old man, standing there in baffled confusion in the midst of their raucous joy and lighthearted dancing.
“Not waltzing,” Tess called out. “Father was of the old-fashioned notion that waltzing was not appropriate, and then Frederick—” She cut herself off with a bite of her lip at the mention of their beloved brother. “He intended to hire a dance instructor before my debut, but…”
Clara spun her around most handily and the conversation trailed off to the sounds of their laughter and Clara’s encouragement. “That is it. You have it! Tess, my dear, you are a quick study.”
Alex moved to stand against the wall, lest he be trampled again, and took the opportunity to gather his wits as he watched the scene before him. It seemed his sister had already made a friend of their new guest if she was calling her by her nickname. It should not have surprised him as his sister had always shared their brother’s penchant for friendliness.
Guilt nagged at him as he thought about his sister’s comments. He ought to have known she would need more guidance before her debut. The poor girl had been forced to sit out two seasons thanks to death and mourning. This upcoming season would at long last bring about her much-awaited debut.
He scowled down at the carpet as he berated himself. It seemed these days that whenever he managed to get a firm grasp on one aspect of his new role in this household, he found that he’d failed in another. He’d just completed a successful visit to one of their properties, but it seemed he had been negligent in planning for Tess’s future, a situation he would remedy immediately.
He let out a huff of frustration. Just as soon as he learned what exactly a young woman needed to prepare for her debut. He cast a look in Aunt Gertie’s direction. Perhaps it was for the best that she was joining them early for Christmastide. Not only would her presence help to restore his sister’s good spirits, but she could very well be the maternal figure they so desperately needed.
Clara’s laughter filled the air again. She seemed to be laughing at something Tess had said, but Alex found himself watching the newcomer with fascination. She seemed to fit in quite well, considering she’d only just arrived in this household this evening.
She pranced about the room looking for all the world as though she were the owner of this estate, and not him—the man hiding in the corner.
“What else does she need?” he asked his aunt.
“Who?”
“Tess,” he said. “What does she need to know before entering society?”
“Oh, my dear,” his aunt said with a laugh, her hands flying over the keys. “Do not fret. That is why I am here, and I brought my secret weapon.”
They both turned to watch as the dancing ladies collapsed onto the settee with breathless laughter.
“It is not normally done quite so…quickly,” Clara said as she gasped for air. He tried not to notice the way her bosom rose and fell as she struggled to catch her breath.
He tried but he failed.
“That is a relief,” Tess said. “I’d collapse before supper was served at this rate.”
They both seemed to find this highly amusing, and Alex looked on with bemusement and more than a little tenderness as they collapsed into a fit of giggles. It had been far too long since he’d seen his sister laugh so much. Not since Frederick had been alive.
“You see?” Aunt Gertie said with a warm grin as she watched them as well. “I have brought you assistance.”
“I wasn’t aware I needed any assistance,” he said stiffly. He might have been very well aware of his shortcomings, both as an earl and as a guardian, but he hardly enjoyed having them pointed out.
“You don’t mind that we’ve arrived early, do you, dear?” His great aunt did not form this so much as a question than as a statement. “You see, I’d learned that the Hollisters will be at their family home for the holidays,” she said, her sidelong gaze met his with such mischief it could not be ignored.
He stiffened at the mention of their neighbors. He liked the Hollisters, he always had. But no one had liked the Hollisters—more specifically, their daughter Olivia—more than Frederick. He and Olivia had been engaged to marry only weeks before the tragic hunting accident that had ended his life. But though their official engagement had been short, their courtship had been lifelong. Olivia was the same age as Alex, only two years younger than Frederick, and everyone had seen them as the perfect pair even when they were in the nursery.
Frederick and Olivia. The fated couple. The perfect earl with his enchanting bride-to-be.
They were the shining hope for their families, and now, with one ridiculous accident, it had all been destroyed.
But his great aunt was not the only one who seemed to think that he ought to honor his brother’s promise by taking Frederick’s place as Olivia’s husband.
His stomach churned at the thought. Not out of any great distaste for Olivia—she had always been lovely to him and to his sister. She was beautiful and refined. She’d make a fine countess.
But he was not Frederick, and no one knew that better than Olivia. No one would feel the lack in comparison as keenly as she.
Aunt Gertie must have misread his apprehension, because she came to stand beside him and patted his arm in a maternal gesture. “Do not fear, Alex. I have brought my young friend to benefit you, as well. Under her tutelage you will be sure to win the heart of your fair neighbor.”
His mouth went dry at the thought. He had no desire to win her heart. Not like that. He’d always thought of her as another sister, and she—well, he hardly thought it fair to ask her to look upon him with the same affection she bore for his brother.
Olivia might have been fair, and there was no doubt that she would be an equal as far as ancestry, fortune, and land. She was the perfect match for the Earl of Charmian. Offering for her hand would be the right thing to do, it would do well by his brother’s memory, and it would be the responsible choice for the earldom. It was for the best, and yet…
“Should she refuse, you will have any number of other options.” Aunt Gertie seemed determined to misread him. One of the downfalls of having one’s default expression be a glare or a scowl or a frown.
He had not quite figured out how he ought to respond to the comment that he could have his pick of ladies when Tess and Clara interrupted and joined the conversation.
“I am so glad you’re home, Alex,” his sister said with a warm smile. “Now that the whole family is here, we shall have a splendid Christmastide, I just know it.”
He felt that warmth again, the one that made his chest ache. The whole family. It wasn’t the whole family, there was a noticeable absence, but seeing his sister’s delight at his arrival was heartening nonetheless.
“And we’ll have so many visitors,” she said, sitting upright with a flourish.
Clara beside her had already straightened and was sitting beside his sister, her hands clasped in her lap with a polite smile fixed firmly in place.
Extraordinary. The woman seated before him looked every bit the picture of propriety. Gone was the whirling dervish with the devilish glint in her eyes. There was no hint of that other girl. In her place was a demure paragon of womanly virtue.
He found himself transfixed by the change in her. So much so, his aunt nudged his side as she rose from the pianoforte. “I see someone has already caught your eye,” she said under her breath.
He stiffened, tearing his gaze away from the prim and proper young lady before him to scowl at his aunt instead. “Do not be ridiculous.”
Gertie merely smiled, ignoring him as she went to join her companion on the settee, sitting in the seat Tess had abandoned when she went to ring for refreshments.
Imagine. Him interested in Miss Clara Lovelace. It was unthinkable. He’d heard the stories—everyone had. Poor girl had been done wrong by her parents, that much was certain, but it did not change the fact that she was a scandal. Definitely not a vi
able option for a countess.
He adored his aunt for her generous spirit in taking the girl in as a companion, but that was the most his family could do for her. He was the earl now. There were expectations that came with the role. His father had lived up to those, his brother had exceeded them. Now it was his turn.
Family. Duty. Legacy. These were the words that ruled his life.
He viciously shoved aside the burning bitter taste that followed the now-familiar lecture. He was lecturing himself, but it was his father’s voice he heard. His father’s speech as he drilled it into Frederick.
Alex had always been spared the speech. The spare had been spared. Ha!
There it was again. The bitter taste he so abhorred. Contrary to what most likely believed, he’d never envied his brother. In fact, he’d always pitied him, just a bit. He watched as his brother did what was expected, never knowing the fine satisfaction that came from paving one’s own way, from choosing a livelihood that was satisfying and true to one’s self.
Alex had been lucky. His family had been wealthy enough to provide him a living so he was free to pursue his studies of plants and agriculture. He was able to stay in his little corner of the world and contribute to society with his papers and his findings.
Yes, he’d been lucky. He just did not realize how lucky until that freedom was taken away from him, replaced by a burden greater than he could bear.
“Alex, did you hear a word I said?” Tess demanded.
He realized only then that she’d come to stand directly in front of him and her arms were crossed as she fixed him with a level glare.
“Er…no,” he admitted.
She rolled her eyes. “I was telling you all the lively entertainment we’ll have these next few weeks.” For what must have been the second time, she rattled off the visitors they’d be having, the dinner parties they would be throwing, the events they were to attend.
With each event she named, his gut churned anew until he was ready to double over from nausea. Each of these would be a test. Eyes watching him, waiting for him to fail. Everyone expecting him to be the sort of man his brother was—the noble, valiant, charming earl. The handsome, dashing gentleman with the social graces and the winning smile.
And then they would see him.
They would watch him falter through every conversation and they would know. The jokes that had started at his expense during the last season would gain traction as he proved the rumors true.
He was not meant to be an earl, and everyone would soon know it.
His aunt rose, her gaze steady on him as though she could read his every thought. He knew for a fact that his facial muscles had not moved, so unless she was psychic, she could not know what he was feeling.
“I told you, Alex, I brought reinforcements.” She tilted her head ever so slightly toward her new companion. His glance fell on Clara, and he started. There was such sympathy in her eyes. Such understanding.
No, it was impossible. A veritable stranger could not see what his own sister was so blithely unaware of.
Could she?
“Clara is marvelous,” Tess gushed. “Why, she’s already taught me a dance that will ensure I am the belle of the ball.” She fluttered her lashes teasingly, making them all smile—even him. The movement felt awkward, as usual. His face had not been made for smiles. They tended to appear more like grimaces.
“Clara went to finishing school, isn’t that right, dear?” Her aunt cast her a motherly smile. “I was dear friends with her mother before she passed, and I’ve watched this girl grow into a fine young lady. She’s taken it upon herself to teach her younger sister and her cousins, and they’ve turned into some of the most accomplished ladies of the ton.”
Clara’s smile was humble and never faltered, though Alex was certain everyone present understood that the reason she’d become a governess and now a companion was because of the dire straits her father had left her in.
He felt a surge of annoyance on her behalf. Not toward his aunt—she wasn’t being intentionally rude. No, toward her father. Toward her uncles and any other extended family she had who’d let her and her sister fall into ruin.
This was why a gentleman must live up to expectations. The moment he failed society, he failed his family. The second he fell from grace, his family tumbled alongside him.
He straightened, his gaze moving over Clara once more, this time with a new hope. If she could work such miracles on the ladies of her acquaintance, perhaps she could be of assistance. Maybe he wasn’t doomed to failure, after all.
He was an academic, after all. He thrived on theory and studies. Wouldn’t it make sense that social graces could be learned just as mathematics or science?
Certainly.
This lady had gone to school for it. And if his aunt was correct, she was an adequate teacher. There was no reason to believe that he could not learn. His gaze narrowed on her and he caught the flicker of her lips, the hint of mischief behind her eyes.
He felt almost certain that something was communicated between them in that moment. An understanding, perhaps.
He vowed it to himself right then and there. If she could help him—he would do all that was in his power to help her in return.
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Earl of Bergen: Wicked Regency Romace (Wicked Earls' Club Book 15) Page 13
