Promise the Sky

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Keenan

 

 

 

"I'm just saying it's not right."

"What's not right about it? His family is a good one."

I lean back in my chair, surveying the dance floor. Hugh whirls past, Moira balanced precariously on his feet. I shake my head.

"She's your sister, William, and she's only eight. Doesn't the idea of her marrying Hugh worry you even slightly?"

William crosses his legs and takes a sip of wine. He is also looking out across the space before us. But I know him well enough to be certain he is watching neither his sister nor his friend.

"I don't exactly do worrying." He says, "It's not really my thing; worrying gives a man worry lines, like an old hag. I'd rather stay young and lovely; put off having to pay for my women for as long as I can."

"Thought you were abstaining."

"Oh of course," he says, "that too."

William's eyes flick out across the dance floor, following a hundred different women, their skirts trailing beautiful arcs around their legs. I will, I realise, quite enjoy his 'abstaining'.

"What number glass is that?" I ask, gesturing to the wine he cradles in the crook of his leg.

"Second." William replies bitterly, taking a sip. "And it's god-awful. Not only are these commoners stingy with their alcohol but they're also tasteless with it."

"Tasteless or penniless. Same thing isn't it?"

"What number of that is yours?" William asks, flicking his eyes temporarily over me. "Isn't it a little early for you to turn all philosophical on me?"

"That's your idea of philosophy?"

William rolls his eyes.

"Why are you wasting time messing around with conversation? Just find your girl, humiliate her, and let's start having fun."

"I can't see her." I say. "We've spent the last hour hanging around the dance floor. I really never did think she was the type."

William takes another sip. I eye the glass; nearly half empty. I gave his abstinence a limit of two glasses and he is rapidly nearing the moment.

"I found her after I heard a rumour. She was just in the market. Some girls don't need to dance," William sighs, shaking his head, "she could have had me just in the way she walked. Gods know why I was stupid enough to hand her over to you." He drains the glass, "Should have kept her for myself."

"You really should have." I say, "You really should have, not that I'm complaining of course, a man'll never get that again. But if I remember correctly, you passed her over because you were with Katherine at the time."

"Katherine?"

"She was the love of your life."

"Oh, yes, of course she was." William mutters. I smile at his seemingly endless lack of care.

He eyes the empty glass forlornly.

"I'd like another love of my life." He sighs.

William's love often doesn't last more than a night.