Page 6 of Rakes & Reticules
“Yes,” their father said. “I need you to help oversee the girls’ season. I’ve hired an elderly matron to chaperone, but I expect you to be there with them.”
“I understand,” Isla replied in a dejected tone. Poor Isla. Her season had been a terrible disappointment. “I’ll do as you ask.” What went without saying…she didn’t have to like it.
“Now that I’ve explained that there is one other thing we need to discuss,” their father said.
They all glanced in his direction. What else could there be? Hadn’t it been enough to end their quiet days in the country sooner than planned? Yes, Athena wanted a season, but she also wanted the time with Hades she’d been promised.
“I expect you all to be on your best behavior while we are in London.” He pinned Athena with a glare as if he was directing this speech at her. “No unladylike behavior.” He turned to Maeve. “No staring at people and making them feel uncomfortable.” Then he focused his attention on Isla. “And no avoiding company because you find them distasteful.” He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. “We’re going to enjoy London. Do you all understand?” He ordered this as if he could force them to find that very enjoyment when they all knew that was next to impossible.
“Yes, father,” they chorused together. What else could they do?
Their father was asking a lot of them. Some things were beyond their control. How were they going to enjoy London when society tended to snub them all? She had her doubts any of them would attend the debut ball. She’d voiced that to Maeve and Isla a few weeks ago, and Isla had laughed. Her response was to explain that the ton wouldn’t dare not to show their faces. They wouldn’t want to offend their father outright and so openly. They were more apt to whisper their discord and hope it didn’t reach their father’s ears.
“Now that we’ve settled that you are excused. Have a good day.”
They all stood and exited the library. Athena was restless once again and decided to take Hades out for another bruising ride. She wouldn’t let her hair fly loose this time. That had been silly. Instead, she’d have her maid plait it and pin it up tightly. She wouldn’t want any more tangles. It had taken Mary far too long to brush them out the day before.
Was it too much to hope that she might cross paths with Lord Kendal again? She smiled as she headed up to her bedchamber. Maybe fate would help her along a little…
* * *
Roman had goneinto town early that morning with Thornridge. Not because he had any interest in going, but because it had seemed like a good idea at the time. He’d regretted it almost immediately. The duke was in a foul mood and grunted more than held a conversation with him.
“What is bothering you?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” the duke responded in a clipped tone.
Well, that had gotten him nowhere. He could guess, but didn’t even know where to begin. He sighed and settled back into the carriage. Perhaps when they returned, he would go for another ride. Mayhap he would find the fiery lady at the pond again. He wanted to know her name. Thornridge hadn’t been much help there. He’d not wanted to discuss the neighbor girls or why they were trouble.
“I am thinking I should return home soon,” he told the duke. “I wrote my mother finally to inform her I was back in England and I have been staying with you. She wasn’t too pleased with that information.” He’d written her a week prior but hadn’t bothered to mention it to Thornridge. Her response had come that morning, and it had been filled with vitriol he’ been expecting.
“I would think she’d be happy to have you nearby and alive.” The duke met his gaze. “But perhaps I am wrong. You were never the favorite son, were you?”
Roman blew out a breath. “I don’t think my father believed I was his son.” He hadn’t ever wanted to admit that aloud. It was the only thing that made sense as to why he’d been treated so horridly as a child. He’d done nothing right. “Though I look more like a James then Cassius did, that didn’t matter to him.”
“Your father was an arse,” Thornridge replied in a cool tone. “Have you asked your mother? Is there a reason he might have believed that?”
He hadn’t wanted to broach the topic with his mother. Roman didn’t wish to offend her, and a small part of him hadn’t wanted to know the truth. What if he wasn’t his father’s son? Then he’d be rolling in his grave at the knowledge that Roman had assumed the title he’d held so dearly. Roman might feel like an imposter if he discovered he was not a true heir to the title. What would he do then? “She wouldn’t tell me the truth.” His mother would never admit if she’d had an affair. She’d be too proud and resentful of any presumption suggesting it, even if it was true. Not that he had any way of ascertaining the truth either way.
“You don’t think so?” The duke lifted a brow. “You might be surprised.”
“Perhaps,” he said in a noncommittal tone. “Either way, it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s gone, and so is my brother. It may be best to let the past lie where it belongs and move forward.”
“Do you really believe that?” his friend asked.
He wanted to. Desperately so… “I have little choice,” he answered. “I refuse to live my life with my father’s disapproving voice echoing inside my head. I want to be happy.”
And perhaps a certain dark-haired beauty was the thing he needed to achieve that elusive emotion. Roman had never been happy. He wasn’t sure he would know what that felt like. He had never thought to marry before. Not that he’d been against it, but as a soldier it hadn’t been desirable for him. Now though… He found the idea of a wife, especially one like the woman he’d met the day before, quite appealing.
Thornridge nodded. “I still think you should speak with your mother about it. I don’t believe you will be able to move forward as you wish and find that happiness until you do.” He tapped his fingers on the side of the carriage. “When do you think you’ll return?”
Roman shrugged. “I haven’t made any decisions yet. Maybe a sennight.” He didn’t want to leave Thornridge Castle until he learned her name. There were three possibilities, but he wanted the correct one. Should he pay a call on them? No. That would be foolish. He wouldn’t know what name to give the servants when he stopped in. Who would he ask to see?
“I think I might come with you,” Thornridge told him. “I’ve stayed longer than I should have.”
With that statement, guilt rolled over Roman. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be,” his friend said. “You needed me. I was glad to offer my home to you.”
