The Proletarian of Mayfair

Chapter Two

"Does anyone truly know what is expected of them in a marriage?"
The Secret Journal of B.T.

Benjamin Twombley was hardly prepared for a season among debutantes who could not see past last names and inheritances. At twenty-two, he had barely touched into exploring the world and all it had to offer.

But, as a titled gentleman of the ton, he had to marry, and soon. His mother, the terrifying Lady Cressida Twombley, emphasized how dire the need was for an influx of money. He knew they would not last much longer than a year. Two, at most.

He stood at just over six feet tall, with dirty blonde hair that lay perfectly between his mama's blonde and his papa's chestnut brown. His eyes were, as many young ladies commented, a dazzling sea of blues and greens. The way he looked drew attraction toward himself. He carried courage and spirit and life like no other man he had encountered.

"You are going to be miserable, Ben. I cannot believe you are joining the horrific marriage mart a day before twenty-five. I plan on having my way with many pretty women before fulfilling my duty as the next in line," his friend, Richard Finch, had a glimmer he knew as one of mischief. He, unlike his brainless mother and father, was a master of pranks.

Ben could not agree more, but he had responsibilities. "My mother wishes to see me married sooner than later. Even if I am still very young by society's standards."

"Your mama is certifiable. Be grateful she will be out of the house as soon as you are married. I will be." They both laughed as they approached Whites. Their families have had many generations of membership there and they continued the tradition.

They both ordered a whisky, neat, and sat in plush couches near another few gentlemen. "Ambrose, have you heard Twombley is planning to find a lady this season?"

"No, I did not. How could you dare to think that finding a woman would be easy? You are twenty-two." That was true. At twenty-two, most men would shy away from any true attachment.

That was not untrue. He was woefully unprepared for marriage, but he could not stop the wheels of reality from turning. The Twombleys required money and he could not deny it any longer.

Benjamin had no choice but to marry this season regardless of his own wishes.

"It is what my mother wishes, and I know better than to deny her what she wants." They all laughed. Ben knew his mother would never back down until he submitted to her whims.

Then again, it was her whims that had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

"I am grateful I do not have her as a mama. She is a helion." Crane shuddered. He, as the eldest of the group, was not even twenty-five himself. He was two years older than Ben. He'd witnessed a loveless marriage for his entire life. Marrying too quickly or too young would only hurt everyone involved. His mama nearly died from the pain of a marriage born on a whim.

"She is still my mama," Ben said and downed the remainder of his whisky. In order to forget, he would require at least four glasses more.

Oh, how he wished to forget.

He wished to forget about his family's finances. The requirement for him to marry. All his mama's orders to give up what would not be missed. No brothels or widows or loose women for him. Fear and apprehension were to be as far from his mind as possible. Love had no place in his heart and mind—only duty and honor.

Two whiskys later, he felt the anger of it all burning his veins.

He had to leave. The place suffocated him with all the reminders of who he was meant to be. The man he did not wish to be.