“No.” That response mirrored Charlotte’s far too closely for Belle’s comfort. “Those were dalliances. This is marriage. And heirs that will later serve in the House of Lords.”
“Pish. As though that place is not full of bastards already, being paraded about as rightful heirs.” The widow waved a hand. “Why would you think you are good enough for a dalliance but not for marriage?”
Charlotte’s voice echoed in her head again. Both were intelligent women, and in any other circumstances, she’d believe they were correct and she was not. But this was her life. “That is not what I said. I saidthey’dsee me as not good enough.”
“Since when do you care what they think?”
“If it were just me, I would not. But for Luke’s sake, and the children’s...” Realizing how specific she’d been, Belle trailed off.
The widow’s lips curled. “He did not seem concerned at our last meeting.”
“I am concerned for him—them. Hence my request to avoid titled lords in this quest.”
“’Tis too late. Your account is closed. You have your match. If he had rejected it, I might have been able to do something. But you have yet to identify how he does not meet the guidelines you provided, and neither he nor I see an issue with the union. In fact,”—she glanced down—“your solicitor has already paid my fee.”
“I’ll pay another fee. Please.” Belle was begging now, desperate.
“You’d be better served by considering your attitude. You should not settle for whom you think you deserve. This is a lifelong commitment, and you bring considerable assets to the table. If Lynwood views that as enough, why shouldn’t you? Many a harder challenge has been faced and conquered by a united front between loving partners.”
“No one said anything about love,” Belle muttered under her breath as she stood.
“Ah, but you both did. You simply need to acknowledge it.”
Belle had deliberatelywaited until Luke had left London to discuss him with Charlotte, for fear that her friend would talk her into going.
As it was, she could not get Charlotte and the widow’s words out of her mind. She, who had never feared anything, might be afraid of being spurned because she didn’t feel worthy. Well, that and the link to her past with North.
She’d also found a pair of boots she’d hidden in her room and a comb that Luke had left at her house. Knowing it was safe now that he wasn’t in residence, she walked them over on a gray morning.
By the time she arrived, a drizzle had begun. When she said she was a friend of Luke’s and referenced knowing he was going north for the holidays, the footman evaluated her clothing and deemed her worthy to wait inside, despite being an unknown, untitled person.
He took the items from her and disappeared to hand them off to a maid and find a cloak so he could step out and call her a hack.
Grateful not to have to walk home in the rain, she waited in the front hall. Stepping over to a table to put her gloves down, she spied the pile of letters that had remained unopened during his stay with her. They were now opened and lay in a haphazard pile, the top one unfolded. Without meaning to, she skimmed it.
It was from North to Luke. Slipping it aside, she read the next one. He asked about Luke’s activities, expressed concern about how much he’d drunk during their time together, and requested that Luke write to him, as he hadn’t heard from his son in months.
She recognized North’s brusque tone in the letters. Given their past association, she knew his words were meant as quiet support and interest. But having also heard Luke’s interpretations of his father’s actions since his mother’s death, she saw how the questions could be taken as overly stern and placing conditions on his affection. What was missing was a mother’s, a wife’s, softness to cushion North’s unyielding approach by encouraging him to be more vocal about support and pushing Luke to communicate better.
Charlotte’s words echoed in her mind.In some ways, I cannot imagine a better family to marry into.Her suitability for marriage was a separate issue, but her friend had been right about this. She was uniquely suited to bridge that gap between father and son, having been privy to both of their thoughts.
Drat it all. She was going to have to travel to Northumberland in the middle of winter.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Luke had beenat his father’s house for two days. All he’d managed to impart was that he was abstaining from wine and spirits for the foreseeable future, finding he preferred life seen through a clear lens.
The Earl had looked pleased but had said nothing. Because of course he wouldn’t. Heaven forbid he praise his son on a good decision.
Belle’s voice sounded in his head, twisting his heart in his chest even more.Not drinking as a form of self-control is a basic standard of adulthood. Why should your father praise you for that?
Still, The Earl’s stern countenance made it difficult to muster the courage to tell him about Free Your Spirits. The name, the entire plan suddenly sounded ill-conceived and frivolous. He paced his room, done in dark greens and dark woods, feeling as though he was lost in a forest. And he wished for the millionth time Belle was with him in person, rather than in sarcastic comments in his head.
If he could not discuss his present or his future, how would he raise the past in order to find a new common ground?
Tired of pacing, he rejected a half-hearted wish for a whisky for bravery and went to find The Earl.
He was in his office, of course, seated at the same desk reviewing business for one estate or another to manage the earldom. It was another reminder of how many conversational and learning struggles Luke faced. Funny, though. There were more scratches lightening the wood than there had been, and the desk was smaller, less imposing than he remembered.
