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“Only that you are his lordship’s son and a great doctor in London.”
“Great is an exaggeration,” I muttered. “And surely you know what type of son I am?”
“What type are you?”
“The one who will not inherit here, despite my age. Is that too vague, or should I be clearer?”
He chuckled. “You need not be. I understood you. However, as I told you earlier, his lordship’s wishes supersede your own. And he says you are his son and must be treated with the utmost respect on his estate.”
Once more, that did not make sense to me. “Why would he direct you to do so if I have never come here before?”
“I do not know, Master Theodore. You must ask him. We are simply his servants,” he replied, leading me down a hall.
“Surely, in all your family’s time here, you must have gathered insight into his thoughts?”
“And surely, one as wise as you should also know the answer to what you ask. If not, maybe this shall be enlightening,” he replied and opened the door to the guest room. But it was not truly a guest room. Upon entering, I recognized a great many of my favorite things, from the types of books and art that I enjoyed to even the color and style of the furniture. How on earth did he know? However, nothing caught my attention more than the painting above the fireplace. Slowly, I gravitated to it, not believing it could exist here.
“Mother,” I whispered, staring at the painting.
“His lordship has been waiting for you for a long time, Master Theodore,” Mr. Pierce said gently. “A very long time. To be clear this is not a guest room but yours and yours alone.”
“Her ladyship cannot be pleased by that.”
“On the contrary,” he replied, reaching into his jacket to retrieve a letter. “Her ladyship left this with the coachman to give you once you arrived.”
I hesitated but took the letter. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” he said, and closed the door behind him.
I sought to prepare myself before opening the letter, but there would never be enough preparation, so I began to read.
Dear Theodore,
Yes, this is rather unconventional, and yes, I did lie to you. But I will not ask for forgiveness—it was for the greater good of both you and your father. He has missed you terribly and often inquires after any news of you from anyone who might know. Often, I have told him to simply go see you, but he refuses, locking himself away here at Wentwood instead. He did not wish you to feel further afflicted by his presence, and as you know, a great deal of misfortune occurred in London for him—you as well.
I often wish I could apologize to your mother. Had I known what my family had done, I would not have accepted this marriage or been so intensely jealous of her. The guilt and pain from it all made me wish to avoid you as much as I am sure you wished to avoid me. There is so much history between us, and I doubt it shall ever truly be healed.
So many years have now passed that I find myself wishing for better. But above all I desire joy and happiness for your father. I have tried many times to be a source of comfort, but I do not think it’s possible until he has made his peace with you. So, until I return, I leave him and my son in your care.
Lady Whitmear
For the first time since I entered, I finally sat down, completely stunned.
22
Theodore
“Enter,” I said, adjusting my shirt as the door opened. I thought it would be a maid or Mr. Pierce, but instead, it was Alexander. For a boy of eleven he was rather small. Though so was I as a child and did not grow taller until much later. He closed the door behind him, staring at me rather intensely. “Yes? Is there something you wish to say?”
“You are my brother.”
“Half brother, but yes, I am.” I stepped away from the mirror and faced him, noticing his clenched fist. “Does the notion so greatly upset you?”
He crossed his arms. “Yes, for if you are my brother, why have you never written to me? Never sent a card or gift on my birthday? Something—anything?”
“Have you sent one to me?” I questioned, amused.
“You are older.”
“And you are legitimate.”
He sighed deeply, moving to the bed and falling on it. “I do not really understand what that means. How can a person be illegitimate?”
“He is born out of wedlock.”
“So?”
“The church frowns upon it.”
“So?” he said again, and this time, I chuckled as I went to the side of the bed.
“You will understand when you are older.”
“Since you are older, explain it to me,” he demanded.
“Has Father…has it not been explained to you?”
He shook his head, which caused all his curls to shake as well. “No—not really. Mama said Papa had another son, that he was older, his name was Theodore, and he could not inherit the estate. But I was not to ask Papa about it because it made him very sad. That is all.”
