Page 2 of Kismet

“You went in public wearing that, I see,” she said with a sigh. “I can only imagine what they will say. I do not know how I was cursed with two so unnatural sons. Your father, if he was alive, would be so disappointed in you both.” Lady Matlock quickly followed her complaint with a theatrical sob into her handkerchief.

Aside from looking down at his clothing in confusion, he ignored her insults out of habit. She had, for the most part, ignored him, and he was too worn to try to engage in her ploy for attention. Besides, he could not figure out what she meant about what he was wearing. He had only been going to the park. So what if he was not dressed to the nines? Going to the sideboard, he pushed his confusion aside as he contemplated the eggs and scones. Should he get sausage or bacon? Both?

Meanwhile, his mother's emotional outburst showed no signs of abating. Exaggerated sniffles and peeking at him from behind her handkerchief were only part of her morning routine. From the corner of his vision, he observed her, wondering if she truly believed her behavior could sway him. And if so, what did she expect him to change about himself? Moving to the table, he put his plate down before returning to the sideboard to get a cup of tea. He wished for more coffee, but his mother had declared it gauche and refused to have it served when she was present.

“Mother, it is too early for your theatrics. Your life is not the Cheltenham tragedy you make it out to be. If you want to conduct yourself in such a manner, please do so in the confines of your room,” a familiar voice said from the doorway. “Otherwise, we would be happy to enjoy a pleasant morning with you.”

Turning to greet his brother, Theodore smiled, “Good morning, Cedric.” It was a welcome relief to have him there. Theodore’s military training, which involved barking commands at people who were misbehaving, was not useful when communicating with his mother. The last time he had tried to cut off one of her diatribes had been futile. Her screaming and recriminations had only continued, seemingly on end. Comparatively, his brother, with his experience in parliament, was more adept at managing her theatrical displays. Cedric had honed his people skills, making it easier to influence their mother with no outward resistance. Despite his aversion to using his brother as a buffer, his exhaustion from yet another restless night rendered him incapable of responding to her adequately.

His mother stopped mid sob and narrowed her eyes before straightening to stir her tea. Clearing her throat, she tried what appeared to be another tactic. “I expect that you both are anticipating the ball this evening. Lady Lavinia will be in attendance. She will be reserving two dances for you, Cedric. Such a lovely girl. If I am not mistaken, she will be this season's most notable diamond due to her demure and lovely demeanor.”

Cedric had gotten himself a cup of tea before sitting down at the head of the table opposite his mother. Just as his teacup was almost to his mouth, Lady Lavinia's name was mentioned, causing him to halt. Putting his teacup down, he briefly pinched the bridge of his nose before responding. “I wish you would not encourage girls to expect my favor. I shall not show her preference any more than I did Miss Julia last year, or Lady Helena from the year before. We have had this discussion. I will not marry one of your proteges.”

“You've had your fun, Cedric, but you are in your thirties, for goodness’ sake,” their mother admonished. “It is beyond the time you should have set up your nursery. Start thinking about your future family. You are the Earl of Matlock. The responsibility of carrying on the family name and legacy falls on you, and it is important that you choose a suitable wife and beget heirs.” Glancing at Theodore, Lady Matlock wrinkled her nose, as if detecting a faint, unpleasant scent. “Heaven forbid it falls to your soldier brother. He has not trained to take over the role as you have. Should you pass away without an heir, it would be a catastrophe.”

“Mother, I will not have you disparaging Theodore!” Cedric snapped harshly.

Looking contrite, Lady Matlock waved her hand as if to wipe away her former misspeaking. “It is not that I dislike your brother. It is simply…or rather, both of you must admit he is not at all qualified for the position you hold.” Biting her lip, she looked at Cedric in concern.

“That is enough, Mother. Beyond enough. I have told you that your presence in my home is reliant on your ability to be civil to everyone who enters. Servants, guests, and most of all, family. That I have to remind you to be polite to your own son is disgraceful.” Cedric's stare was unyielding, leaving his mother with no hope of getting her own way. “Barring a horribly, terrible accident, I am not going anywhere, anytime soon. Additionally, I am certain that Theodore can accomplish anything he sets his mind to; he has my complete support. I happen to think he would make an astoundingly amazing earl.”

“I must get myself ready to make calls. I will see you both at the ball tonight.” Lady Cecilla Imogen Matlock got up, her heels clicking against the polished wooden floor as she left the room with her chin lifted high in what Theodore recognized as defiance of her two children.

Cedric stood up and shut the door behind his mother, closing her out of the morning room. At least with her gone, he could eat his breakfast in peace. He loaded his plate with a hearty breakfast of ham and eggs and couldn't resist adding a slice of delicious ginger cake. Taking his plate back to the table, he watched his brother push the food around on his plate. It was evident Theodore was suffering from some kind of malaise.

Theodore's well-being weighed heavily on him, and it was not a new feeling for Cedric. He had worried for his younger brother since the day he realized his parents had set him up as a carrier in the regulars. Most noble families provided a small estate for their second sons. Not his parents. They told Theodore at the age of twelve that he would join the regulars as soon as he was done with Eton and Cambridge. Though Theodore seemed accepting of the directive, Cedric had been angry on his behalf. Though at fifteen, he had no authority to do anything to stop his parents, even if he was a viscount.

It had been a couple of years since Theodore's original injury at Badajoz had brought him home. The wound to his thigh had festered during his journey back from Spain, and they nearly lost him. During the extended fever, he could not distinguish reality from his fevered dreams. From what Cedric had heard of Theodore's ramblings, the battle had been a living hell, but it was afterward that tormented his brother. Apparently, the aftermath of the battle was far worse than the fight itself. Cedric had worried his brother would never recover from such an experience. The process was slow, but Theodore had finally healed and could resume his daily activities—civilian activities.

His injury had been severe enough to end his military career. As a cavalry officer, he had to be able to wield a sword or fire a weapon, and that required expert control over his horse with his legs. Despite being able to ride again, he lacked the thigh strength and stamina necessary for battle. Theodore’s future had always revolved around the military, so when that future was taken away, he was left adrift.

Cedric felt relieved at first when his brother seemed to accept the change, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off now. Theodore had gone to Hertfordshire to visit Darcy shortly after his recovery. In the small town of Meryton, he ended up discovering a new fight to take on. It had helped for a time. Theodore had been doing fairly well, but recently there was a listlessness about him that Cedric did not like. “Was your morning walk any help at all?”

Theodore's tired eyes flickered towards his brother, and a grimace crossed his face. “I should have known you would see what she did not. It went as well as it ever does.” He leaned back in his chair, his fork abandoned on the plate, and let out a tired sigh before rubbing his face.

Cedric knew that he had to take a risk and confront the problem. Letting his brother come to him was clearly not working. After weeks of waiting, he was disheartened to see that his brother's condition hadn't improved. “I know you are feeling at a loss to come up with something to do with your life.”

Theodore's eyes widened in shock. He licked his lips before questioning. “How did you know that has been bothering me?”

“I am fairly logical, and I can put pieces together as fast as the next man. You thought you were going to spend the rest of your life at war and now you are not. You have been moping. Moving from one thing to another with no genuine interest since you helped save the Bennet ladies.” Cedric watched the surprise filter across Theodore’s face, and he reveled in the satisfaction of catching his brother off guard. “Now you are stuck in London trying to help Darcy with the season and the three ladies here for marriage mart events. The events you have been attending lack purpose, leaving you unfocused and dissatisfied.”

Standing up from his spot at the table, Theodore paced. “I feel like I failed at the mission I had committed to. Despite the hardships of life in the regulars, I found fulfillment knowing that I had a clear purpose and was highly proficient in my duties. Losing my place in the regulars has left me feeling as if the skills I have do not align with the world I am being forced to live in. More than that, I am mooching off all my family members for my support.”

Cedric watched Theodore slow his pacing and waited for him to look at him before continuing. “Ignoring your statement about mooching off family, because we have had and will continue to have that fight. If you want to make it worth it, find something of significance to do. You helped the Bennet ladies. Look what good you did there. You have always been a knight looking to do good in the world. Find that good that needs to be done.”

“That will be harder to do than one might suppose. London is all style and little substance. It is one dance after another. Even time at the park is spent seeing and being seen.” Returning to his seat at the table, Theodore began eating his breakfast, but his disinterest in the meal was clear.

Looking down at his own plate, Cedric took a bite of his ham. It was an excellent breakfast, despite his brother's disregard. “Charities would be a good place to start. There are plenty in London. Beyond that, you can find people in need of help in unexpected places if you are observant. I know it is not the thrill of the battlefield, but there are even people to help at those dances.” Pointing his fork at his brother, Cedric added, “I suppose you will be going to the ball tonight.”

“Of course. Georgiana is my ward. I would not miss her first season if I could help it. You know how badly Darcy does at social engagements,” Theodore grinned, shaking his head at their cousin’s incompetence when it came to social gatherings. “He will need help, and Bingley is still at his estate with his wife and new baby. Elizabeth will be there, but they will have their hands full between Mary, Catherine, and Georgiana all out.”

“Our poor cousin is quite outnumbered by eligible females.” Cedric couldn’t help but smile, picturing Darcy’s attempts to navigate it all.

With a look of contentment finally on his face, Theodore took a bite of his meal before commenting, “Yes, I know Darcy's mother-in-law would have come if she could, but she is still recovering from the birth of her son. I can understand her new husband's hesitation in bringing her and the new babe to London. The air is often horrid. It is much better that she and the child stay at his estate in Derbyshire.”

“I am still surprised by the development of Mrs. Hawkins's swift marriage and pregnancy. It progressed so quickly after we learned of the death of Mr. Bennet, too. She seems to be happy, though,” Cedric observed. He remembered meeting his cousin’s mother-in-law shortly before her wedding. Cedric had never met a woman more unlike his own mother before. She was all strength and no-nonsense compassion. It was no wonder her daughters were so unique.

Looking over at his brother, eyebrows raised in clear warning, Theodore said, “She is only seven years older than you, and she was married to a horrible man for far too long. I am glad she was able to find the happiness she deserves.” Then grinning, he asked, “Are you going to the dance as commanded by our lovely mother?”

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