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Chapter Four
Something wasn’t adding up. Stephen stared at the numbers he had been pouring over for a few days and no matter how many times he checked it over, it simply wasn’t making any sense to him.
From what he remembered about the late Duke, he was a stringent and responsible man when it came on to his finances, despite his many other flaws. But based on these numbers, the current expenditure was exceeding his father’s income.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and he looked up, grateful for the distraction. There was already an ache forming in the back of his eyes. “Yes?”
His mother walked in. Dressed as lavishly as she always did, she waited until she was seated before him to say, “You have been studying those books ever since you arrived, Stephen.”
“You know I have to get an understanding of everything.”
“I know, I know,” she said, looking around idly. Stephen knew this wasn’t the reason she was here. Talk of numbers bored his mother.
“Is there something the matter?” he asked her.
“Nothing,” she said, her tone idle. “I only came here to inform you that you will be attending London Season this year.”
Stephen stared at her for a moment before returning his eyes to the numbers. He didn’t see any of them. “I certainly will not be. I’m not suited for Season.”
“You are the Duke of Dunleer. Youaresuited because it isexpectedof you. You need to find a wife, Stephen.”
Stephen tried not to groan. “The last thing I want is to marry someone, Mother. Especially if it is someone I do not love, and I’m sure a love match is not what you have in mind. And besides, I do not plan to stay here for long.”
The Dowager Duchess simply narrowed her gaze at him. “I am not giving you a choice in the matter, Stephen. How can you think of not marrying? How else will you pass along the title? And I’m sure you know the benefits of finding a good partner who comes with a sizeable dowry and great connections.”
“Mother—”
“Enough talk,” she said sharply, rising. “I’ve arranged for us to leave in two days. Your presence is already anticipated so I don’t doubt we will have a few interested ladies right away.”
“You had no right to go ahead and do that,” Stephen seethed. The anger came fast, strong, but he tried not to lash out too much at his mother. “I’m sure you must realize that you cannot try to run my life?”
“I’m merely helping you see what is best for you, Stephen. You cannot run from this forever. It’s about time you settled down and assumed your responsibilities.”
She turned on her heels, making her way to the door. Stephen followed her with his eyes, his fingers flexing on the table. Before she left, the Dowager looked over her shoulder at him. She turned up her nose in disdain. “I have sent word to a tailor in London to have new clothes made for you. I will not have you traipsing around like a commoner. No son of mine will dare look so distasteful in public.”
And with that said, she left the room.
Stephen stared at the numbers before him, which seemed to float off the page, until he realized he wouldn’t be able to get any more work done now that his mind was so troubled. It had been a while since he felt this level of anger, the type of anger only his mother could bring about. He needed to clear his head.
Leaving his father’s study, he made his way to the stables. He didn’t ask any of the servants for help, not caring to speak. He saddled the biggest horse that was there, hopped on, and galloped away, hoping the horse ride would help to clear his head.
Going to London was the last thing Stephen wanted to do. Attending the Season where he would be expected to find a proper match was unreasonably annoying and, right now, Stephen wanted nothing more than to go back to India. Things had been so simple there. He didn’t have to worry about marriage, he didn’t have to worry about his wardrobe.
It was infuriating how difficult it was to make sense of his father’s finances. All those long nights and early mornings only created more and more confusion. And now to hear that he would have to attend the Season this year was additional pressure Stephen didn’t want. He didn’t want to even set foot in London.
He kept riding, slowing down only when his thoughts did. After a while, he looked up to see that the sky had gotten quite dark without him noticing and when he looked around, he noticed how far from Dunleer Manor he had ventured. He didn’t think he would be able to make it back in time.
The storm that is coming will hit before I return.
So, he turned back, heading to the abandoned house he’d noticed a short while ago, hoping that the storm wouldn’t last too long and keep him away from the manor all night.
Soon enough, he arrived and herded the horse inside the shed around the back, locking it inside before heading toward the house. If he was lucky, the storm would only last an hour, enough time for Stephen to calm down. If it wasn’t over, then he just might be out here all night.
* * *
The past few days had Belle fraught with worry. It had been difficult pretending everything was fine when she was around her father and so she made a concerted effort to avoid him whenever she could. Which quite easy to do since he never cared to be in her presence anyhow.
For every second of the day, her mother’s words rang through her mind.
