Romantic Tales of My Lords and Ladies

To Slay a Dragon (Ch2)

Edward Richardson, His Grace the eleventh Duke of Kent, hummed to himself and smiled as his valet, Saunders, struggled to tie the perfect four-at-hand. He was in an excellent mood since his last meeting with Miss Hetty. One might as well say he was smitten. It was not surprising that Saunders noticed.

'I'm glad to find you in such a great mood, Your Grace.'

Edward grinned. 'I am indeed, Saunders. Thank you.'

'I'm also happy to see that Your Grace is not nervous about your first foray into society.'

'Why, should I be?'

Saunders shrugged, trying to achieve the perfect crease and sticking a diamond pin to the neck cloth.

'Pardon my impudence, Your Grace. But you are the most eligible bachelor in all of London at present. Crafty Mamas would be trying their hardest to shove their daughters into your path every opportunity they get! I wouldn't put it past them to resort to dirty tricks!'

Edward couldn't help it. He laughed out loud. 'Thank you for your concern and your warning, Saunders. I will definitely keep that in mind.'

Saunders gave a curt nod and went to fetch his evening coat.

Crafty Mamas indeed, Edward chuckled to himself. They could try as much they wanted but he was no fool. He would need to watch himself when he was alone.

Damn you, Freddie, he cursed softly.

This was indeed Edward's first appearance at a society ball as the new Duke of Kent. He had attended a few balls during his student life at the insistence of his cronies Charlie and Freddie, but none of them were high-end affairs like this. Besides, he did not like the false gaiety and frivolity of the beau monde. He had seen what it could do to a person.

It was this very fast-paced frivolity of the elites that had snuffed out his cousin's life at such a young age. Edward had watched as Freddie had wasted away, drinking and partying with abandon, not bothering to take notice of his deteriorating health. The fall had only quickened whatever fate lay in Freddie's near future.

How ironic, thought Edward, his mood sobering at the memory of his cousin.

Edward had always been an extremely private person, unlike Freddie. He could claim very few people as his friends and those few were also his closest buddies. The rest of the society had actually no idea who Edward Richardson was. Yet here he stood, vested with the power and money that rightfully belonged to Freddie. And whilst Freddie's life was so brutally snatched away, Edward was left to shoulder the responsibility of a dukedom which in itself was a daunting task. And now this added pressure of producing an heir.

Ah, how he wished he could go back to his quiet, old life.

Saunders had come back. As he shrugged into the finely cut black tailcoat, Edward was struck with a sudden inspiration.

What if he asked her? He knew she was attracted to him as surely as he knew he was in love with her. So what harm would there be in asking? It was a brilliant solution to all his problems. If he succeeded, he would not only gain a worthy wife, but also avoid the dreaded Marriage Mart. He would ask Miss Hetty the next time they met. Even though it might appear rash and stupid.

But he needed to be loved for himself, not his title. And by Jove, he would find out if she did...

His heart gave a curious thump and he smiled mysteriously as his young valet was finishing up with the attire.

'Saunders!'

His valet looked up at him curiously. 'Yes, Your Grace?'

'Have you ever done anything stupid in the name of love?'