Page 30 of Choosing Her Earl at Last
Michael busied himself with his correspondence until Mr. Quincy came and notified him that the evening meal was ready. Nodding, Michael rose from his chair and left the library. Upon entering the dining room, Michael found his parents already awaiting him.
“Everything looks lovely, Michael,” his mother said. “You have chosen your staff well.”
Michael nodded in acceptance of the compliment. “I will make certain that they receive your praise.”
His mother smiled sweetly, then took her seat beside her son. His father sat on the other side. Once they had each been served the first course, his mother wasted no time in asking what lay most heavily upon her heart.
“Have you seen Emmeline?”
Michael closed his eyes, sighing. He had been afraid that this conversation was unavoidable. Opening his eyes, he picked up his spoon, and it hovered over his bowl of soup. “Yes, I have seen the marchioness.”
His tone did not encourage further conversation. He brought the soup to his lips, but before he could eat anything, his mother had pushed on with her inquiry.
“Have the two of you spoken with one another?”
Michael laid his spoon back down into the bowl, leaning it against the rim. “I am serving as chaperone and confidant for Colin in his courtship of Rebecca. It is unavoidable, but to interact with the marchioness and her family.”
“There has been much talk of the mysterious circumstances around her husband’s death,” Michael’s father remarked.
“There has been some supposition that the fire may have been intentional, that the marquess was murdered. Apparently, the man owed a great deal of money to his creditors. It has even been said that the marquess left his widow with nothing but her title.”
“I know nothing of the marquess or his demise. I do not make it a habit to give credence to the gossip of theton,” Michael retorted as civilly as he could.
“While I do not believe everything that is gossiped about among theton, there is truth mixed in among the supposition and judgment,” his father reminded him.
“As a recent victim of said judgment myself, I do not intend to gain my truths from such an unreliable source.” Michael was having a hard time being patient with the topic of conversation. “Widows, of all people, should be allowed to mourn in peace without their reputations being brought under scrutiny.”
“You defend her gallantly, my son,” his mother noted softly. “Is it your intention to rekindle your relationship with one another now that she is a widow?”
Michael’s patience was rapidly finding its limits. “I have no intentions of rekindling anything with the marchioness.”
“Are there any other prospects on the horizon?” his father asked, eyeing his son with concern. “Have any of the other ladies of thetoncaught your eye?”
Michael shook his head, gritting his teeth. “I have no intention of making the same mistake twice.”
“Do you not desire love in your life?” his mother asked, her eyes holding his in earnest. “You have courted no one since Emmeline married the marquess. I worry for you.”
Her words cut too close to what he had felt in the library as he had watched his own parents’ relationship.
“I have no room for love left in me,” Michael declared, the pain in his chest increasing with every word. “You must resign yourselves to this. I have no intentions of marrying anyone.”
“What of an heir?” his father demanded, his tone stating that he believed his son to be in grave error. “Would you throw away your grandfather’s legacy?”
A stab of guilt nearly caused Michael to wince with the pain of it. “Colin will produce many heirs, I have no doubt.”
“As he should for his father’s legacy, but your grandfather entrusted you with the family estate and title. It is your responsibility to produce an heir and ensure continuity of the family line.”
“Emmeline Frampton will be the last woman that I ever trust my heart to. There will be no others. If a woman such as she can betray me with such brutal severity, when I thought her to be themost honorable among women, then I want nothing to do with the purportedly fairer sex.”
“You speak unfairly, my son. Would you believe your own mother capable of what you speak?” The hurt in his mother’s eyes was tempered only by her concern for him.
“You, Mother, are of course excluded from this,” Michael amended his statement in apology.
“As your mother, I would be remiss if I did not tell you that I believe you are judging the marchioness too harshly.”
“Too harshly?” Michael was truly confounded by her declaration.
“Emmeline was under great pressure from her family to wed a man of great wealth, title, and reputation. Her parents made the choice for her. Would you have had her defy them? To disrespect and reject those who gave her life? She did what any respectable young lady would do and married the man that her parents chose for her.”
