Having been announced, Alexander, Viscount Bridport, entered the study. Sir Alford was, as she predicted, sitting not behind his desk but on one of the comfortable, padded couches by the fireplace. She was close to greeting him a good afternoon when she noticed that a man was sitting next to her old friend. She came to a halt saying, “I am terribly sorry, Sir Alford. I was not made aware that you were having an appointment therefore I thought it welcome to—I should have sent word before calling,” she finished, slightly confused and quite embarrassed by the breach of etiquette. The butler had announced her and she simply went in afterwards, as she usually did.

       The old man chuckled at his younger friend, amused by his embarrassment. “It is no trouble, Howell. I was expecting you to keep our Wednesday appointment. It is my nephew here, who intruded upon both our schedules. Do not bother yourself regarding this,” he shook his head. “May I introduce you to Edward Montagu, Earl of –don. Edward, this is Alexander Howell, Viscount Bridport.”

       Alex bowed. “It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord.”

       “Viscount Bridport? Ah, I have heard about you!”

       “Do not be rude, Edward,” Sir Alford warned.

       Edward smiled cheerily at his uncle’s young friend. “Sir Alford is a distant uncle, in truth. I must be his nephew a few times removed. I did not expect that he had a young friend such as you! And you, of all people!”

       Earl or not, Alex glared at this man before her. His blue eyes sparkled with merriment, as if laughing upon his newfound discovery – as if he was directing that silent laughter at her. And Alex was affronted by his jovial attitude that seemed very much out of place. “I beg your pardon for not being worthy of your uncle’s friendship,” she said out of growing scorn.

       “Oh, hush!” the old man cut in. “Do not give my nephew’s comments any thought, Howell. You are far too quickly angered by thoughtless comments. Sit down. I do not like looking upward to talk to you.”

       Alex sat on the nearest couch, nearer to Sir Alford and farther away from the Lord Montagu.

       Edward frowned. “I did not mean anything against it; I apologize. I only meant – I have never met you and yet I have heard a few rumors about the Viscount Bridport. I least expected to be introduced in my uncle’s study, of all places! Although, now that I am here, I realize that my uncle’s eccentricity should not have been a surprising connection. But you, Viscount Bridport, have painted a rather odd reputation. I find it all very interesting, I confess. Have you heard what everyone have been saying?”

       She gave him a wry smile. “Of course. How could I not?” She had a few friends among the gentry and fewer among the nobles. They knew very little about her for she did not go out of her way to make herself introduced to the lot of them. She cared very little for society and preferred to say very little only for the sake of being polite. She was not eager to make friends, but she was not looking forward to making enemies either. In consequence of this, a few gossip spread, most of which were lies. It was true, however, that she had greater acquaintances among the merchants for she involved herself with trade – and this fact somewhat ruined her reputation, compounded by her unfriendliness towards the titled gentry. Nobles dirtying their hands with the merchants, she learned, were greatly frowned upon.

       “I do not believe those rumors, of course,” Edward said, trying to appease the viscount for his apparent faux pas, “Only I am now eager to know you, now that we have been introduced.”

       Turning to Sir Alford, Alex said dryly, “Is your nephew always like this?” And then to the Lord Montagu, “Are you always this…happy, my lord? As if you were an overflowing oasis of happiness.”

       At this, Edward laughed out loud. “And a bit of a poet, too!”

       Inwardly, Alex was finding his laughter annoying, especially that he had laughed because of her.

       To this Sir Alford agreed. “Your personalities are as different as North from South, you might have shocked him with that stupidly happy face of yours, Edward.”

       “And the viscount would have shot down a whole battalion oof Napoleon’s with the glare he is giving me,” Edward remarked, amused, for indeed, Alex was glaring at him.

       “There is nothing good about wars, my lord.”

       “I am merely speaking in jest, Viscount Bridport! Spend some time with me, and we will lessen those glares and scowls. My friends say my cheerfulness influences their moods in a very effective manner.”

       “You sound so confident about it,” she retorted flatly.

       Sir Alford was publicly expressing his delight at this future prospect. “This I would like to witness, in time.”

       A few hours later, when the earl have gone and the two friends were left in the study, Sir Alford said to Alex, “You will attend whatever invitation my nephew extends to you, else I will not continue buying my goods from you, Howell.”

       She did not expect this from her friend. “You are blackmailing me?” she asked, in disbelief.

       “That is what they call it, I believe.”

       “You are a sly, old man,” Alex growled.

       “Believe me, young man, this is something that you will thank me in the future. I will have your gratitude – the two of us can gamble on that.”