“Still, people will talk. There’s bound to be a certain amount of gossip.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “Why, no doubt, conclusions will be drawn as to your behavior. They’ll assume you did something dreadful. You do have a reputation for fast living, you know.”
“Excellent.” Father nodded. “I would much rather it be thought that my son did something unforgivable in the eyes of his fiancée rather than that he was nearly taken in by a girl who was little more than a fortune hunter.” He aimed a pointed look at his son. “Most women, interesting women that is, especially those suitable for a man of your prospects, are most intrigued by a man whose reputation is not entirely spotless. A bit wicked, as it were.”
Mother gasped. “Roland!”
“Come now, Margaret, you must admit you were initially attracted to me because I was considered entirely too dangerous for a young lady of good breeding.”
“I was not!” Indignation sounded in her voice. “Why, I never—”
“Oh, but you did, Margaret,” Father said with a smug smile. “You most certainly did.”
Win looked from one parent to the next. That was a story he had never been told. And one he wasn’t sure he ever wished to hear. There were some things about the past lives of one’s parents one should probably never know.
He cleared his throat and continued. “Secondly, Mother, consider this for a moment. If you had a daughter, would you not want her to make the best marriage possible?”
Mother sniffed. “Not at the expense of other people’s happiness.”
“Do you really think I would have been happy with someone who cared so little for me that they would cast me aside for someone with a larger fortune and grander title?” Win shook his head. “In truth, I think I have had a narrow escape and I feel quite lucky at the moment.” He grinned. “Indeed, this is entirely too good to waste. I believe I shall head to London tomorrow and try my hand at the gaming tables.”
“Well, next time, you shall have to choose someone—”
“Next time,” Win said in a no-nonsense tone. This was not up for discussion and the sooner his mother realized it the better. “Next time is very far away and not something I wish to consider at the moment.”
“Permit him to recover from this time first.” His father’s gaze met his. “Even though he is taking this debacle in stride, such things are never as easy as they look.”
“Thank you, Father.” Win smiled.
“I suppose,” Mother murmured.
“Oh and, Father, you had mentioned something about it being past time I learned management of the estate and the family’s business interests.”
“Yes?”
“Well, I agree. I know you had originally planned to divide those responsibilities between Gray and myself but, as we have no idea when he’ll return from his pursuit of success in America . . .” Win shrugged. “I am prepared to take it all on. Indeed, I look forward to it.”
“Then we shall begin at once. Well . . .” A slow, decidedly knowing smile spread across his father’s face. “When you return from London, that is.”
“No more than a week or so, I would think.”
“Take as long as you wish, Winfield.” Father nodded in a sage manner. “And do enjoy yourself.”
Again, Win was struck by all the things he didn’t know about his parents in their younger days. Still, from the few stories he had heard through the years, he had always suspected his father had indeed been something of a rake in his day. And the current Earl of Fairborough probably knew far better than his wife what it would take for his son to recover from his cancelled wedding.
His father would probably understand as well that there was an odd ache somewhere in the vicinity of Win’s heart. Not that Win would ever admit such a thing. No, this dull pain was a secret he doubted he would ever reveal to anyone. Besides, what could he say?
Did he ache for what he had lost?
Or for the shattered promise of what now would never be?
June 1879
My dear Gray,
While it is unfortunate your business concerns did not allow you to travel to England it was perhaps for the best. Although I could certainly use your assistance at the moment in my stalwart attempts to drink most of the spirits in the country and bed as many of its women as possible.
I regret to inform you that the wedding of Miss Felicia Abigail Whitingdon and the Viscount Stillwell did not take place as planned as the bride decided she would much prefer to be a duchess rather than a mere countess. Yes, indeed, Gray, I have been thrown over for a man who will one day have a more prestigious title and a greater fortune.
Oddly enough, I am not sure if my heart is as wounded as my pride. Upon reflection, I realize the exquisite Felicia was not as perfect a match as I had initially believed although, had the wedding not been cancelled, it might well have been many years before I realized that fact. Perhaps even a lifetime. As the thought of living the rest of my days with the wrong woman is as a cold hand squeezing my heart, this development is for the best. At least I have convinced myself of that.
This incident, as Mother refers to it, has led me to consider my life in a new light. While I daresay I shall not entirely abandon my wicked, but most enjoyable, ways, I am resolved to turn my attentions to matters of business, property management and all else I will need in the future to ensure the prosperity of the family. Father is most pleased. I daresay I shall become quite respectable and eminently proper and even a bit stuffy. God have mercy on us all.
There is a lesson to be learned here even if admittedly, I have no idea what it is. I know the next time I choose a wife, I shall want someone who has more depth of character. Although it has always seemed to me those women who truly have good character are not always as easy to gaze upon. Felicia was very easy to gaze upon.
Mother says she never liked her. . . .
Part Two
Lucille
My Dearest Cousin Beatrice,
Lord Stillwell and I have fixed on the fourteenth of September for our marriage. It will be celebrated at his family home of Tairborough Hall and will indeed be the happiest day of our respective lives.
I cannot tell you how pleased I am to have found a man of the steadfast nature and stalwart character of Winfield Elliott I consider myself extremely fortunate and his feelings echo mine. We are agreed that we are well suited.
Our happiness will only be increased if you will favor us with your presence at the ceremony. It shall be small and dignified, as is appropriate for his station and mine. Da say you will come, Cousin, as your absence would surely cast a pall on what will certainly be the most important day of my life.
Your loving Cousin,
Lucille
Chapter 3
August 1881
My dear Cousin,
We are all delighted to hear of your successes in America. Regardless, Mother would have my head were I not to point out that in spite of the busy nature of your days she would appreciate if she would receive letters from you more frequently than you have managed thus far. Now that I have fulfilled my duties as loyal son and have delivered her message, I may move on to other matters with a clear conscience.
As you know, I have now fully taken over the management of Father’s financial investments and much of the management of the family’s properties as well. I will confess, it has not been entirely easy and has required far more effort to prove myself worthy of his confidence and trust than I had imagined. Nonetheless, I have managed to do so and humbly note I am well pleased with myself, as is Father. Furthermore, I will be forwarding you a substantial sum to invest in your next venture. No thanks are necessary. I simply wish to share in your financial acumen. But that is not the only purpose for my letter.
Once again, I beg you to arrange your affairs to the point where you can return to England for a visit. And a wedding. Yes, it’s true. I am engaged to be married.
I can see the grin on your face now, Gray, and I am always glad when the important events in my life provide you with a source of amusement.
I have no doubt I have now found the perfect woman. Lady Eustice, Lucille, is the widow of Sir Charles Eustice and is a lovely creature with a mind nearly as sharp as my own. There is nothing more enjoyable than engaging in stimulating debate of an intellectual nature with my Lucy. I suspect the passion she shows in our verbal dueling will be matched by passion of a more intimate nature, although I will confide to you that nothing untoward has occurred between us. Much to my regret. But Lucy is quite cognizant of proper behavior. I know you are thinking one of us should be.
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