Page 6 of How to Charm an Earl
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 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 again. She wouldn’t let her hair fly loose this time. That had been silly. Instead, she’d have her maid plait it and pinned it up tightly. She wouldn’t want any more tangles.
Was it too much to hope that she might cross paths with Lord Kendal again?
Roman had gone into 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.
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. Perhaps 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 was staying with you. She wasn’t too pleased with that information.”
“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, 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 want 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 now held the title he’d held so dearly. He 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.”
“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.
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.”
The duke was one of his closest friends. They only had one other friend that was equally as close. Roman hadn’t seen him since before he’d left for the war. “How is Pemberton?” he asked. “When was the last time you saw him?”
Thornridge shrugged. “Not since before you arrived. He has changed little.”
Viscount Pemberton was one of the biggest scoundrels in the ton. He discarded lovers frequently and was often found in some of the most disreputable gaming hells. Pemberton thought highly of himself and offered no apologies to anyone. He might mutter one begrudgingly to Roman or Thornridge, but only because they were the only two people alive he respected enough to bother. He had dark blond hair, pale green eyes, and a face that drew more women to him than one man could handle, but the viscount certainly tried.
“I think I’ll write to him and tell him I’m returning to London soon. I won’t stay with my mother for long. She can be a bit…much.” Thornridge had been right in his earlier statement. Cassius had been the favorite of both parents. His mother would welcome him home because she had no choice. He was the earl now, and she depended on him for support.
The duke’s lips twitched. “If you’re going to visit with Pemberton, keep in mind his proclivities might be more than you wish to participate in.”
He laughed. “I am aware of our friend’s habits. I think I’ll be fine.”
Besides, he didn’t want to spend his night with any loose women. There was only one woman he wanted in his bed, and he’d gladly marry her to have her there. There were several steps in-between until he had that goal. The first one being discovering her name. Then he’d start courting her in truth.
