Page 26 of Always the Chaperone
“Wake up, lazybones!” John’s voice echoed down the corridor, and William raised a hand to his head. “It is almost nine in the morning, and the day is almost gone.”
A clattering noise told William his brother had moved to the third room they occupied, where they ate and entertained the few guests of their acquaintance in Bath.
He groaned as he sat up, head spinning. After such an intense meeting with Charlotte two—or was it three days ago?—he had been bored out of his mind ever since. Who could compare to her? What conversation would enthrall him?
William finally stood with ill grace and pulled on his trousers, a shirt, and the waistcoat that was nearest.
He was met with ill-humor when he entered the room where John waited.
“Why do you look as though you’ve lost all your money on the horses?” John asked grumpily, barely looking up from his newspaper.
William bit back the retort that he was in a better mood than John seemed to me. “Anything interesting?”
John rustled the pages but did not look up. “Plenty of nonsense about the Season, and what everyone is wearing. Can you think of anything duller?”
He could but did not consider now the best time to say so. Instead, William dropped into the only other chair at the table and looked, a little disconsolately, at the breakfast provided by their landlord.
A few potatoes, more burnt than baked, a loaf of bread that was older than most the chits at the Pump Room, and a flagon of something that was probably ale.
William curled his lips in distaste. “We need to get a footman, a manservant, something. It is disgraceful that the Duke of Mercia has to eat like this.”
“Hark at you!” John said irritably. “This fare was good enough for you when you were Major Lennox. Does nobility affect one’s tastes as well as one’s pocket?”
He had never been good at hiding his emotions from his younger brother. William swallowed down his second bitter retort of the morning.
John was seated awkwardly, hunched as though he could not bear to sit upright. His ears were red, and he huffed as he turned another page.
William sighed. “What is the matter, John? You surely have nothing to complain about. Something is bothering you, and I would much rather know now than endure this temper all day.”
The newspaper was dropped. “I will tell you, if you are that concerned about me,” he said with a frown. “Not that you have noticed until now.”
But his words were interrupted by a loud knock on the door, which opened before either brother could respond. Their landlord stood there, short and stocky, with two envelopes in his coal-streaked hands.
“Post,” he grunted.
William rose and stretched out a hand. “Thank you, sir.”
He saw the surprised look on his landlord’s face before he remembered that dukes rarely thanked anyone for something as simple as bringing up the post. Nor did they call a mere commoner, sir. But before he could say anything more, the door was closed.
“A letter each,” William said quietly, thrusting John’s into his hands.
“Thank you,” his brother muttered. “As I was saying…”
John continued speaking, but William barely heard him. His eyes had fallen onto the letter addressed to him and the seal which had closed it. A. Axwick?
His fingers fumbled as he opened it and pulled out what appeared to be a formal invitation. His eyes drank in the words.
Your Grace, the Duke of Mercia, and his lordship, the Marquess of Gloucester;
Your presence is requested for tea with Lady Charlotte St. Maur at Number Fourteen, Queen Square, today at eleven o’clock.
It was one of the shortest invitations he had ever read, but it was clear enough. Charlotte had invited him and John, of course, to drink tea with her.
John’s voice continued, but William could not concentrate. What did this invitation mean? If she wanted to spend more time with him, why had she invited John? Was the invitation a mere formality? He was still learning so much about the ways of nobility, and at every turn, he was about to make a misstep.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?”
“What?” William looked up from his invitation and saw the disappointment in his brother’s face. “Here.”
