Page 33 of The Duchess Audition

“I have had quite enough of gossip,” Anthony muttered, expelling a sigh. “Come, let us get to the club before Malcolm drinks it dry.”

He ushered the doctor along, turning back for just a moment to the sign that marked the modiste. He thought of the woman inside, how she seemed to shrink in public, hiding behind her hair, her gaze always downturned. Meanwhile, that same woman had no qualms about speaking her mind with him, as fierce as a badger. He had seen her fire, and he did not like to think of it being dimmed.

I can spare you a month, Miss Longman.

At the very least, he would try, if only to quiet the bullies and naysayers.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Two weeks had rushed by like minutes, leaving Anthony staring down the barrel of his imminent nuptials. He had expected to be indifferent about the wedding tomorrow, but as the clock on the mantelpiece ticked on through the evening, he found himself restless.

“This is pointless,” he grumbled, heading for the drawing room door.

Stepping out into the hall, he barely managed to avoid knocking into the cross-legged figure on the floor. The boy’s head rested against the doorframe, his dark hair falling across his face, fast asleep.

“William?” Anthony crouched and nudged the child awake.

The boy blinked slowly, rubbing his eyes. A smile cracked across his face. “Good evening, Papa.”

“What in heaven’s name are you doing down there? I almost stepped on you,” Anthony said, his tone hardening.

William had recovered well from his fever, astonishing the physician who had been to check on him in the first days of his illness. Of course, Anthony was relieved that all was well, but since his recovery, William had returned to his mischievous, bothersome ways.

The boy lumbered to his feet, yawning. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“But you have,” Anthony remarked. “You should be in your bed, not leaning in doorways.”

William blinked, clearly stung. “I wanted to wait until midnight. I wanted to… say congratulations for your wedding day.” He wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Great-Grandmama helped me send flowers to Miss Longman today.”

“Flowers? Whatever for?” Anthony could feel his patience wearing thin.

The boy shrugged. “To welcome her to the family. To say congratulations to her, too.” He dropped his gaze, suddenly reminding Anthony a little of the child’s future stepmother. “I’m happy about it, not that anyone has asked me.”

“Pardon?”

William scuffed his toe against the floor. “She’s nice. I like her. I’m glad you’re getting married, though no one asked for my opinion.” He raised his gaze, fire flickering in his eyes. “If you do want my opinion, I think she’ll be a lot of fun. I think I’ll like having her around, especially when you’re not there.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Anthony asked coolly, his eyes narrowed.

The boy smiled tightly. “It means you’re never there, so it’ll be a good change to have company. I won’t be so bored.”

Just then, the housekeeper bumbled into the hallway from the servants’ quarters below stairs, coming to an abrupt halt with a tray of tea in her hands.

“Oh, Your Grace.” She smiled. “I was just about to bring you some supper. There is enough for the two of you if you would care to share?”

William shook his head. “I have to go to bed.”

Anthony glanced at his son and knew he had upset the boy in some way. But what else could he do? He could not reward his son for bad behavior, and sleeping in doorways when he ought to be in his room was not appropriate.

“I do not need supper,” he said to Mrs. Havers. “I was about to leave.”

The housekeeper’s eyebrows shot up. “Leave, Your Grace?”

“For a libation at Malcolm’s,” Anthony replied flatly, and moved toward the door.

“You will be back in time for the wedding though?” the housekeeper called after him, worry raising the pitch of her voice.

Anthony did not respond. She was not his mother or his grandmother; he did not have to answer to her. Instead, he walked out and into the crisp night air, taking himself straight to Malcolm’s apartments.