Page 81 of The Unwanted Duchess

But there was some sort of urgency in the man’s voice. Something in the way he clung to Adam made him sure that something was not right at all.

“You must forgive me,” the man continued.

“Oh, no, there is nothing to apologize for,” Adam said politely, deciding to have an answer once and for all, “Grief can do unexpected things to a person, and I cannot imagine that losing a brother is easy.”

The man blinked at him in disbelief.

“Do you not recognize me at all?” he asked, and Adam shook his head.

He wondered how he could possibly recognize a man that he had never met, but again, he had to consider the fact that losing someone was difficult, and so he had to keep in mind that those he met might not have been aware of what they were saying.

“I would have thought that your mother might have described me at least.”

“Why would my mother have described you?” Adam asked. “In any case, I would not have remembered, for she passed so long ago.”

“I remember that day. It was as though I had truly lost the love of my life, even though I had lost her long before then.”

At last, everything made sense. His father had not died; he was standing right in front of him, looking at him as if Adam would solve each and every one of his problems.

The funeral that he had supposedly been invited to and avoided, the many letters from family members pleading with him to return and take up his place, they had all been lies. His father simply decided for whatever reason that Adam mattered to him now.

And he loathed him for it.

“So you are not dead,” Adam sighed. “Unless you truly did miss me so much that you came back to life for a brief moment or indeed that the journey grew so long and tiresome that I am sleeping and having a terrible dream.”

“No, you are very much in London, and I am very much alive.”

“Then I am not needed here,” he said firmly, turning around to board his carriage once more, but his father grabbed his sleeve.

“You are,” he said quickly. “Needed here, that is. I need you to be here.”

“You do not. I was told to come at once and take my place as the Earl. That place is taken, and so there is no need for me to be here. You may write to me again when you are on your deathbed.”

“I fear that I might soon be,” he explained. “Adam, I know that I have used dishonesty to bring you here, but you must understand that our situation is precarious. You are not known in society here, and for you to take your place, it is vital that you are known.”

“I do not care about such rules.”

“I know, and you are not to blame for that. You have never been expected to know these things, and so we do not have much time to prepare you before I… before you must take the role on.”

Adam looked at his supposed father more carefully. There was a resemblance between the two of them, and so he did not doubt that they were related, but he did not want to admit it. His father had lied to him effortlessly, and he had done so time and time again in an attempt to have him arrive on his doorstep, and Adam did not doubt that such a behavior would continue.

But he also noticed, as he looked at him, that he was unwell. He did not know exactly what was wrong, but his father looked far older than he had been led to believe he was. He seemed weak and desperate, and for just a moment, Adam felt sympathy for him. Perhaps it was out of desperation that he had lied? It was easier to understand such a motive at least.

And so he stayed. He did not enjoy seeing his father, and he longed to return to Scotland, but he had a duty to fulfill, and so he did so. Every meal he shared with him, he hoped for him to reveal something, but the Earl never did. It was always the same sad stories about how his daughters had never done anything tohelp him, and so his affluent lifestyle would be given only to his son. He also talked at great length about his success and how he expected great things from Adam. Adam listened to him, but he never truly took any heed to it. The Earl would pass away, Adam would receive the titles, then he would leave.

Then his father began to falter. There would be pieces said to Adam that he found problems with only for there to be perfectly reasonable explanations for it. Diana and Samantha never visited but only because they were selfish. To that, Adam suggested speaking to them, but his father quickly forbade it. Then it became that their husbands would not allow it, but Adam suggested going to their homes, and again his father refused. It was more trouble than it was worth as far as he was concerned.

Adam did not understand this. If he had been so desperate to find Adam and have him come to London, why could he not extend such efforts towards his daughters, the ones that he had knowingly. Then Adam remembered what his mother had told him about how he had abandoned them both and only returned to them once she had sent him away.

And so he insisted on speaking to them.

“You mustn’t,” his father warned. “They are unkind ladies. They are extremely envious that you are to inherit the estates.”

“And I can see why they would be if they are. It is unfair that they have been here all their lives, only for you to instead place all of your time into a man you do not know.”

“But I do know you. You are my son.”

“I am my mother’s son. You may have fathered me, but you are not my father. I do not want to be here. I would much rather be in Scotland, and I am only here out of duty. I looked a fool at that wedding with everyone staring at me and even my own sister wanting nothing to do with me.”

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