Page 28 of A Bonny Pretender
Sir Horace paused at that. “You didn’t like your father?”
“Mystepfather, as I tell myself now, was a spiteful man with a deep cruel streak. In truth, I was relieved I’m not of his blood.”
“Did he abuse her?”
“Only with words, but they were lethal.”
“He left you broke, then?”
“No, sir. I am plump in the pocket.”
“She died a year ago, and it’s taken you this long to find me?” Sir Horace ran a shaky hand through his thick graying hair. He pinned icy gray eyes on Frank. “Something drove you here, and I’ll find out your sham. I’m leaving London for a few weeks, but when I return, I’ll have more information.”
Frank cast a warning glance at Charles. He didn’t want Sir Horace to know that he’d come last summer, hoping to meet his father. Let the man dig as deep as he wanted. There was nothing to find. Then perhaps they could talk.
“As I said before, I haven’t come to confront you, nor do I have any intention of making this public. I want nothing from you, I’m financially sound, and it would not help either of us.” He paused. “I understand this is a shock for you, as it was for me. Neither of us knew of the other’s existence. I will say in my mother’s defense, though, that her decisions were made in good faith. She thought she’d done what was best for all of us.”
“She was a good woman,” he agreed, his features softening.
“You should also know that I’m quite enamored with Miss MacNaughton. I’ve asked her permission to court her with the intent to marry her. I hope you will not cause her any undue sorrow by showing your dislike for me.” Frank paused, ice forming around his heart. “I will leave our relationship—or lack of—to your discretion. It will not be brought up again. No one but the three of us know, and I promise to give you a wide berth when we are at the same events.”
With that, Frank turned on his heel and left the private parlor. This time he’d been the one to turn his back, though his stomach rolled and his hands trembled. His first words with his father had been in anger. The man considered him a blackmailer, a shammer who wanted something from him.
Yes, I do!he screamed silently.I want you to be my father and accept me as I am. I want to know my half-sisters and gather together at Christmastide and be a family like the damn stories I read as a child.
He stopped in a quiet hall and leaned against the wall. After a long breath, he shrugged his shoulders to release the tension. If he couldn’t collect himself, he’d need to leave before the promised waltz. Brigid’s sapphire orbs and auburn hair flashed before him. She would provide the calm he needed. With his chin up and a smile plastered on his face, he re-entered the ballroom.
“There he is,” said Lady Brecken, waving at him with her gold and silver fan. “Did you happen to see Charles? He’s disappeared too.”
“He’s found some fresh debutante to flirt with, I’m sure,” said Lady Franklin. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen my husband, either.”
As if summoned, the men appeared, both red-faced and sullen. “We must leave, my dear,” Sir Horace told his wife. “I have some urgent business to attend to.”
“But the cold supper hasn’t been served yet,” Lady Franklin said, taken aback. “We can’t—”
“We can, and we will,” snapped her husband.
Lady Franklin’s mouth fell open at his tone. She made her goodbyes, put away her fan, and followed her husband without another word.
Frank squirmed inwardly as Lady Brecken studied him and then Wilkens. She was a clever woman. He wondered how far would she push her cousin for an explanation. Would she remember that night last summer? When he’d lost his courage to confront Sir Horace and decided to bury the family secret? Lady Brecken had found him on the balcony. Her sympathy had been more than Frank could bear, and the pent-up frustration had poured out of him.
“Lord Raines, are you enjoying the dance?” she asked, leaning on the white rail that overlooked the garden. The clinging scent of iris and sweet pea overpowered him. The moon was nearly full, but clouds blocked out the stars. “You dashed away so quickly.”
“Er, yes, I had to speak to someone.” He stood next to her, hands clasped behind his back, trying to think of a reason why he’d just run away from an introduction to her father. Instead, he changed the subject. “Did I tell you my mother passed?”
Her expression changed from congenial to concern in a heartbeat. “I’m so sorry. No, Charles didn’t mention it.”
“She had suffered for so long that it really was a blessing.”
Miss Evelina placed a hand on his arm. “It’s hard to lose a loved one. Is there anything I can do?”
He shook his head, the anger and betrayal thick in his throat. “She told me a secret just before she died.” He turned back to the garden, staring into the darkness.
“Unpleasant news?”
He nodded. “What would you do if you found out that your entire world was based on a Banbury tale? The man you thought you were, your life as you knew it was a sham?” Frank swallowed. He hadn’t expected that to come out of his mouth. She must think him a blethering fool.
“I don’t know. I have never thought about it. I’m sure, whatever it is, she did what she thought was best.”
