“Yes.” His father nodded. “She was barely sixteen and I was not much younger than you. Why?”
“What would have happened if my grandfathers had not torn you apart?”
Papa took a sip and his brow furrowed. “We would have wed as we’d planned to do. I thought you understood that.”
“I’m putting this badly.” Setting down his glass, Rupert stood and ran his fingers through his hair. “What I really want to know is, did you miss marrying her, or were you glad you could be out on the Town?”
His father’s face became serious. “Even after your mother left, I was never one to be enticed by gambling and brothels.” Papa rolled the goblet between his hands. “For one thing, I was studying law and didn’t have the funds. For another, no other lady could compare to your mother.”
That was very like what Robert had said about his wife, although he had spent years acquiring a well-deserved reputation as a rake, and had known an array of women. “But you married another.”
“Yes,” Papa said with a grimace. “It was arranged. I—I did my duty by her, but was never able to love her as she should have been loved. Fortunately, she was content. She had affection for me, but nothing more. She believed strong emotions were for people of lower status.” He stood, placing his hand on Rupert’s shoulder. “I never for a moment stopped loving your mother. Have you met someone? Or are you being told you are too young to marry?”
“No on the first account, yes on the second. Twice since the Season began I’ve been asked not to fix my attentions on someone’s daughter.” And he was getting damned sick and tired of it.
“I was advised I was too young as well. If it helps, I think they were wrong.” His father’s lips formed a line. “When you find the woman you’ll love, keep fighting for her.”
The way Papa had wanted to fight for Mama. If only he’d known what her father had done, but he’d been at Oxford and hadn’t found out until she was already married.
“Thank you for your help. I shall do as you say.” Now all Rupert had to do was discover whoshewas.
His father slapped him lightly on the back. “I am glad I can assist you. I missed seeing you grow up.”
Rupert’s throat tightened as it always did when the subject came up. “If only I had known you were mine, I would have ensured I could see you.”
“What has the two of you looking so solemn?” Mama asked as she strolled into the drawing room. Her gaze sharpened. “Has anything happened that I should know about?”
“Nothing at all.” Rupert strode to her, picked her up, and swung her around.
“Put me down, you silly boy!” She laughed. “I forbid you to teach Daniel any of your nonsense.”
“But you’re my favorite mother.” Grinning, he set her on her feet and bussed her cheek. “We’re just having a father-son talk. You are lovely as always.”
She gave him a dubious look, but said nothing else about it. He had no doubt she’d get it out of his father later.
“Have you decided,” he asked, “which entertainments you’ll attend this week?”
Mama took a glass of wine from Papa. “You do remember Serena is having her first London ball? Naturally, we shall be there. The Eveshams and Rutherfords have balls planned as well.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss them.” In fact, Rupert intended to attend a great many balls and other events this Season. “Now that Featherton has married, I shall offer my services to partner any lady my hostess wishes.” How better to meet females than by dancing with them.
“That is extremely kind of you,” his mother said dryly. “Now do you wish to enlighten me as to what’s going on?”
So much for not being questioned. Wasn’t it past time for dinner to be served?
His father glanced at him. “We may as well tell her. She’ll have it from one of us in any event.”
“Indeed I will,” Mama said, sinking gracefully onto a chair. “You have all my attention.”
By the time Rupert had got to the second request from a father to stay away from the man’s daughter, her eyes were shooting fire. “How dare they!” Not a question. “One would think your being a respected peer—an earl, nonetheless—would count for something.”
“I actually did consider that to be to my benefit,” he mumbled. “But apparently that won’t be until a few years have passed.”
“Devil a bit.” She took a large swallow of wine. “How dare they insult my son in such a fashion? I’ll guarantee you”—she narrowed her eyes—“that their wives don’t know about this. It appears I have some visits to make.”
Rupert debated saying she needn’t bother, yet it occurred to him he required all the help he could get. After all, he didn’t want to fall in love, have his feelings returned, and have to run off to Gretna Green. That wouldn’t do at all.
Whitsun announced dinner, saving Rupert from having to respond. Not that anything he said would have made any difference. His mother was well on her way to preparing for all-out war.
