Page 30 of How to Start a Scandal

‘Forgive me,’ he muttered. ‘I shouldn’t...’ He swallowed, unsure of what to say. He was spared having to come up with something when the door to the carriage slowly opened and Burton peered hesitantly at them.

‘Eh, we’ve arrived.’ The footman indicated over his shoulder where Almack’s stood, its many windows lit with golden light against the inky darkness of night. ‘If you’re ready, that is. If you require a moment...’

Lady Dalton pushed towards the door. ‘I assure you, I’ve had quite enough.’

Seth quickly alighted from the carriage to help his mother down. She ignored his proffered hand and swept past him. Caroline emerged next, putting her fingers lightly to his palm. She hesitated and shook her head, her mouth working without a single word emerging.

He nodded in the direction of the door. ‘Go on.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she whimpered and slid out behind their mother.

Seth watched them go without moving to follow. Above them, figures in black jackets and resplendent gowns were visible behind the panes of glass, dancing to music that travelled out into the open night.

‘Will you be joining them, my lord?’ Burton asked.

Seth glowered at the building, opulent, decadent. Frivolous. Who cared who was important enough to warrant a voucher to Almack’s? Who cared who wore aubergine or chartreuse or whatever ridiculous colour was in fashion now?

It was all a waste of damn time. It might be what earls did, but the existence earls lived was absent of any substance.

Seth whipped off his chapeau bras and tossed the hat on to the seat of the carriage. ‘I can’t do this, Burton.’

The footman looked to his left. ‘There are carriages behind ours, m’lord.’

‘Then park elsewhere while I figure out where I want to go.’ Seth climbed back into the cabin.

Burton nodded and the door clicked closed. The carriage took off not even a second later. Only when Almack’s rolled away from sight did Seth recollect the one reason why he had wanted to go there in the first place: Lady Violet. He’d promised her a dance.

Bloody hell.

He didn’t want to dance. How could he when Brent’s death was so fresh in his mind? So vivid?

It should have been him. Brent should be the one at home with his family, with his boys and his wife. It should have been Seth who received that cannonball.

The carriage slammed to a hard stop. Seconds later, the door popped open and Burton slipped into the empty seat beside him.

Seth didn’t bother to reprimand him.

The footman looked around the cabin with a slow nod. ‘It’s fine in here.’

Seth scowled. ‘I’d trade it all to be back with my soldiers.’

‘You are with your soldiers.’ Burton leaned back and adjusted his injured leg in front of him. ‘And besides, there are others here who are countin’ on you.’

‘I know,’ Seth replied tersely. ‘It’s the only reason I bothered to return at all.’

‘Harold’ll take you wherever you want to go.’ Burton screwed up his thin lips. ‘He is trying, Captain.’ He shook his head. ‘I mean, m’lord.’

‘I know,’ Seth said gently. ‘I don’t intend to sack him, so you can put that from your mind. My mother can grouse all she wants, but I’m the Earl and what I say goes.’

The footman’s shoulders relaxed. ‘I suppose there are quite a few good bits about being an earl, then. Where do you want to go, m’lord?’

‘Where do I want to go?’ Seth repeated the question aloud. ‘I want to go to a gaming hell and lose myself in a glass of strong spirits.’

Burton brightened at that.

‘Where will I go?’ Seth rephrased the question. ‘Back to Almack’s, as it is what earls do.’

‘I’m certain Lady Dalton will be pleased with your decision.’ Burton stroked a hand over the velvet cushion, grinned and slipped from the carriage.