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“This is a family ball, Isaac. The Chesters have been hosting an Autumn Ball for centuries. Your presence is expected, required, needed, and demanded of you.”
“How do you know?” Isaac challenged and mentally cursed when he saw his mother scowl.
“Know what?” Gertrude blinked at him.
“That the Chesters have been hosting an Autumn Ball here for centuries?”
Gertrude stared at him. “Because my mother told me.”
That, clearly, was a lie.
“How do you know your mother was telling you the truth and not just using it to try to coax you into doing the right thing like you are with me?” Isaac challenged. “For the benefit of the Chester name, of course.”
“She told me about the splendid balls hosted here,” Gertrude persisted impatiently.
“Did you see any?” Isaac asked conversationally, leaning back in his seat to sip at his brandy with an air of disinterest that alarmed Gertrude.
“Well, of course not. I was not alive when my mother was a young girl,” Gertrude snapped.
“She wasn’t a Chester then, was she?”
“Well, no, but mother attended the balls here,” Gertrude replied, losing none of her waspish determination to get him to return to their guests.
“But you have no proof that she was telling you the truth,” Isaac challenged.
Gertrude looked horrified. “Are you calling your grandmother a liar?”
Isaac was well versed in how much the ‘good Chester name’ was used as a weapon to wield over his hapless head whenever his mother wanted to force him to do something that she knew he wasn’t happy doing. He was sick of it. It wasn’t for the first time that he wished his surname were anything but Chester.
“I am just saying that you have no idea wh
at social functions grandmother attended. You can only base your judgement on the stories she told you, which don’t come with any proof. This isn’t the Regency era anymore, mother. Hosting resplendent balls was something my ancestors did routinely when Prince Regent was on the throne. Victoria is our reigning Monarch now. Times have moved on and so should we.”
“Don’t think you are going to succeed with this, Isaac. I know what you are doing. You are trying to distract me or annoy me so I leave you here and you can hide out in the study rather than spend time with our guests.”
“You invited them. I have greeted them. I have shaken more hands than I care to count, smiled limpidly into more matriarchs’ eyes than I care to remember, and have listened to enough stories, anecdotes, and tall tales, to last me a lifetime. Now it is your turn to keep everyone entertained if they are bored with the orchestra, or the food, or the dancing, or each other’s company.”
“Isaac Chester, you get out of that chair this instant and get out there and spend time with the guests. Some of them have travelled for days to reach us. It isn’t fair for you to leave them to entertain themselves like this,” Gertrude blustered, stomping her tiny foot in annoyance.
“Yes, and will be here for days more, won’t they? How many did you invite to stay again? Twenty, was it? Because costing me a small fortune accommodating them for one evening isn’t enough, is it? We have to spend the entire weekend accommodating them, feeding them, and squiring them around town too, all because you like to repeat history apparently,” Isaac growled.
“What’s gotten into you?” Gertrude, having heard the bored disinterest in his voice, knew that badgering him to return to the ball wasn’t going to work. She had to find a different tack. Perching elegantly on a chair opposite Isaac’s desk, Gertrude frowned in concern. Her tone was soft when she said: “This isn’t like you, Isaac. What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing has gotten into me, mother. I just wish you should remember that this is my house too. Further, that my purse is not a bottomless pit you can just delve into at will and empty whenever you want. Events like these cost a fortune. Your good Chester name is going to mean nothing to you if the coffers run dry and we no longer have the roof over our heads, is it?”
As if expecting the guests to pop out from behind the curtains, Gertrude slid a worried look around the room before leaning forward and hissing: “Are we in financial trouble?”
Isaac was anything but. He could live in luxury for the rest of his life and not even put a dent in the money he had at his disposal. However, he wasn’t going to tell his mother that. If she knew how wealthy they really were, she would never stop socialising and spending money. That was the last thing he wanted.
“We will be if you keep insisting on hosting this ball, and that function, another dinner, and accommodating another group of guests. Balls cost considerably more than they did when your mother attended or hosted them. This is not London, mother, and we are not the Sainsburys. We are the Chesters. We have had an estate here for centuries, but it is nothing more than a working estate, a glorified farm. Our mansion has a farm, with sheep, and cattle, and crops that need to be grown and sold for profit for the estate to exist. All your socialising must be paid for. Please remember that before you flood the house with people I really don’t like very much.”
“You are a Lord, Isaac Chester. Don’t you dare make it sound as if we are peasant farmers,” Gertrude spat.
“There is nothing wrong with peasant farmers, mother. They work to put the food on the table that you, and your friends, enjoy so much,” Isaac challenged darkly.
The warning tone of his voice was enough to alarm Gertrude even more. “Oh, I understand now,” Gertrude murmured thoughtfully after several moments of squinting suspiciously at him.
Isaac cursed when he saw that narrow-eyed stare. At any other time, he would have done everything he could to avoid his mother’s suspicions, but a deep sense of discontent with his life made him lift an arrogant brow at his mother and glare at her as he asked: “Oh? What do you understand now, mother?”
