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Chapter Nine
Reginald had never thought that returning to London would fill him with such dread, but as the carriage bounced nearer to the familiar city, he felt knots twist in his belly. Across from him, his father was the picture of serenity, something which Reginald couldn’t help but envy.
Here was Reginald, returning to London surrounded by luxury and riches, whilst all his old acquaintances still languished in poverty and destitution. Even if Reginald’s plan was to help them, he still felt a sense of unease. But then, he seldom felt as though he really belonged anywhere anymore. Last night’s ball had only emphasized the point. Thetonhad been nice enough, but he’d seen their looks. They spoke to him like a nobleman and looked at him as though he was a species of bug which they’d never before encountered. He was a curiosity to be examined.
“The affair is wholly settled, of course,” his father said. “Our appearance is truly just pageantry. A formality, you know.”
Reginald reluctantly tore his gaze from the window and to his father, whose lips twitched into a tentative smile.
“And Simon will be there?” Reginald asked.
“Of course.”
“I imagine our family dinners will be quite awkward for some time,” Reginald replied.
His father smiled and chuckled. “Without a doubt. But we must think of our people. I think this is for the best. If I didn’t, I would…”
“Not pursue the matter?”
His father didn’t answer.
Reginald pressed his lips into a thin line. Somehow, he didn’t quite believe that his father would simply be content to leave the title and Marquisate to Simon, even if he’d been a more frugal Marquess.
“What did you think of Lady Marcella?” his father asked.
Reginald considered the question a moment. In the garden, she’d seemed…interesting. Lively. She’d been witty and thoughtful, quite different from what he’d anticipated, and yet she’d sent that awful, pompous letter ahead of their meeting. Lady Marcella seemed to be a woman of two minds, and Reginald quite felt as though she was playing with him.
Somehow. He hadn’t entirely deciphered what Lady Marcella was. A contradiction. A puzzle.
“She was beautiful,” Reginald replied at last.
It didn’t really matterwhatLady Marcella was or wasn’t, after all. His actions wouldn’t change, he had to become the Marquess of Hurrow if he wanted money. It was as simple as that.
I never imagined myself being a man who’d marry for money.
He’d known from a young age that he was promised to Lady Marcella, of course, but Reginald had always assumed that he’d grow to love his future wife. He’d assumed that they would be friends, at least. After he’d left theton,he’d not considered marriage all that much. He might’ve thought of Lady Marcella once or twice, but he’d always assumed that she wouldn’t be terribly upset at his absence. She’d only been ten when he left, after all. If Reginald had considered marriage at all, maybe he’d thought of eventually marrying some high-spirited woman.
Marrying for money seemed so deeply opposed to everything he was, as if the notion was fundamentally at odds with his own nature.
“Ah, we’re here,” his father said.
The carriage halted, and Reginald forced himself to remain seated, denying the instinct to fling open the door himself and leave at once. His life seemed so much slower when there were people to wait on him.
After what felt like an eternity, the carriage door was opened. Reginald’s father exited first. His son followed, his sharp eyes lighting upon the townhouse.
“I’d anticipated that we’d be going to court,” Reginald said.
His father nodded. “Ordinarily. But because the matter is already settled, Mr. Blackburn graciously agreed to allow us to complete all the formalities at his residence. He thought that solution would be more agreeable for everyone.”
Reginald bit the inside of his cheek.
More agreeable for everyone.
What precisely had Mr. Blackburn meant by that?
He may be hoping to avoid some terrible confrontation.
After all, Reginald didn’t imagine that either Simon or his mother, Blaire, would be especially happy at their sudden change in fortune. He doubted that the lady would cause a scene over the matter, but her son well might. If the outcome wasn’t in their favor, Reginald was quite certain he hadn’t heard the last of it.
