Winston couldn’t deny a certain amount of hurt at his friend’s words. That wasn’t the only answer to the situation. “I have yet to make that determination.” In truth, he feared hecouldn’tkeep away from Millicent. Not yet anyway, if ever.
The realization alarmed him, but perhaps it also proved something lasting was growing between them. That would be necessary if there was any chance of weathering the turmoil that would surely follow in the coming years.
“I have to wonder if Dunthorpe will beat you to her.”
“Dunthorpe is not a problem.” Winston waved a hand in dismissal even as he glanced at the bar to see what was taking their drinks so long.
“I beg to differ.” Trentworth waited until he had Winston’s full attention before continuing, “His father and Mr. Davies are well acquainted.”
“Oh?” Winston frowned, not liking the sound of that.
“I have also been advised that Mr. Davies arranged fine matches for his first three daughters. It seems he has skill in such matters.”
“As a man of four daughters should.” Winston nodded, doing his best to keep his panic at bay. “It can’t be easy to see them all comfortably settled.”
“Especially with no title and modest doweries to entice willing gentlemen.”
That was nothing Winston didn’t know, but he appreciated the reminder. It would take time for Mr. Davies to arrange a match for Millicent, given those issues.
“Luckily, Mr. Davies is clever and has already set the stage for an alliance. It seems he has business interests that Dunthorpe’s father intends to invest in.”
That didn’t sound good. “How did you discover all this?”
“I happened to be in the right place to overhear it last evening.”
Winston shrugged and glanced again over his shoulder to where the barkeep was taking a ridiculously long time to pour their whiskeys. “I don’t know that any of these details pertain to me.”
“They don’t.” Trentworth straightened in his chair and leaned forward, holding Winston’s gaze. “Unless you happen to be enamored with Miss Davies and interested in a future with her.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t care for the way his heartbeat sped, nor for the cold seeping into his chest. Surely it wouldn’t be difficult to speak with Dunthorpe and convince him he’d rather marry someone else. “I refuse to be pressured into action before I’m ready. If that time ever comes,” he added for good measure.
Trentworth eased back into his chair as their drinks were finally delivered, though from his disgruntled expression, he wasn’t pleased.
Winston took a sip before the server had taken so much as a step away, certain the whiskey would ease the odd feelings that welled up within him. “I do hope you didn’t share our conversation with Eliza.”
“Why? You don’t want her calling again to make certain you’re behaving yourself?” Trentworth asked with a smile.
“No, and I’m certain you don’t want to accompany her if she does feel the urge.”
At that reminder, the duke huffed. “True.”
“Then it would be in your best interest to help me.”
“How?” Trentworth asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Help me keep Dunthorpe away from Millicent. At least for a time.”
“Linford, are you interested in her or not?” When Winston didn’t answer, Trentworth continued. “If you are, then tell her and formally court her. Then all these issues will fade away. It’s that simple.”
If only that were true. Unfortunately, it was too soon to move toward a future with Millicent. He wasn’t ready. It would be just the beginning of trouble. He was stubborn and irresponsible, as his father had been. And contrary. Why would Winston’s marriage be any different when he shared so many of his father’s traits? Even the steward mentioned it on several occasions.
Millicent wasn’t in such a big rush to marry, was she? Though the news of her father solidifying a relationship with Dunthorpe’s father was concerning, marriages took months to arrange, didn’t they?
While he didn’t want to risk losing her, neither was he prepared to move forward. Uncertainty had him taking a deeper drink of his whiskey, wondering what to do.
The knock on Millie’s bedroom door had her starting in surprise. She’d been attempting to write a letter to her eldest sister who lived in the country, but few words filled the page even though she’d been sitting there for the better part of an hour.
“Enter.”