"You mustn’t feel guilty for living your life. As sad as it is when we lose someone, we cannot spend the rest of our days acting as though we have also passed."
Ezra nodded. He rather thought his father’s old friend was right, even though it had taken him a long time to realise it.
"And when I think on it… I’m not entirely sure it was just my mother’s insistence that brought me out into the world. Well – that kept me out here, anyway."
"Oh?" Marshall asked, raising his eyebrows.
"I went to that first ball because Mother requested it, it’s true. But since then…"
"Something else has been making you wish to attend these events? Someone else?" Lord Marshall asked.
Ezra chuckled and took a sip of his whisky before replying. "You were always very perceptive, Marshall. Yes, you’re right – someone has kept me returning."
"A lady." There was no question this time.
"I confess, I had thought I would never marry again."
"That seems a rather severe decision for a widower so young."
"I could not imagine marrying again after Laura. And since I have not been out in society, there has been no woman to tempt me."
"Until now."
Ezra nodded, feeling rather invigorated admitting it out loud for the first time. "Yes. I haven’t told anyone. Not her, not my mother. But I find… I find I cannot imagine my future without her. And so I must be considering remarriage, mustn’t I?"
"It certainly sounds that way," Marshall said. He had always been a good listener, and Ezra wondered now why he had fallen out of contact with him. He had not been socialising, no, but he could have sent the old man a note, got his advice. It felt like something he had been sorely missing.
"So why are you hesitating? You have been in mourning a long time. No one would think ill of you for remarrying. In fact,many widowers would have remarried far, far quicker than this. Would the lady be deemed suitable?"
Ezra chuckled into his glass. "Well, you know Mother. I don’t think she thinks anyone is suitable. And I’m not sure this would be the lady she would pick. But she is a lady – the daughter of an earl – so not some wild match that will cause gossip throughout the county."
"So what is making you hesitate?" Lord Marshall asked again.
"I… I’m not sure. I think I am finding it difficult to move my mind on from believing I would never have a wife, never have an heir, to thinking that that might all be about to change."
Lord Marshall nodded and swilled the dregs in the bottom of his whisky glass for a moment before responding. "If that truly is the reason, then you must forget what you had imagined your life to be and embrace what it is. We all have dreams of what we think the future will be, and they cannot always be the way that life turns out. But I do wonder, given the way you lost Laura, whether there is not something deeper to it. Something you must come to terms with before you can offer marriage to this young lady."
Ezra swallowed. The conversation had turned far deeper than he had anticipated. He certainly did not wish to discuss such matters in a smoky card room, although he thought that his old mentor probably had a point.
"Something to think on, eh? It’s good to see you out, and looking so well and happy. This lady, even if she would not be your mother’s choice, is clearly good for you. Don’t let the past stop you from having another chance of happiness. You’ll regret it if you do."
And with that, he finished his whisky and stood a little shakily, steadying himself with the back of the chair. "Now, thereis a whist table waiting for me. But I hope we’ll see each other again soon. Not in another five years, eh?"
Ezra shook his head. "Definitely sooner than that. Thank you, Marshall. You’ve given me a lot to think about."
Chapter Thirteen
"Did you hear? The Earl of Gracewood is courting – after all this time?"
A voice spoke, and Constance kept to her place in the shadows, not wanting them to see her, but intrigued by what they had to say. She knew she oughtn’t to eavesdrop, but it was too tempting to walk away.
"Is he? He’s not been seen with anyone since his wife died, has he?"
"No. But he comes out of hiding, as it were, and immediately starts dancing with that tall, plain-looking one – you know, the one who’s visiting."
Constance’s smile faltered, and she turned away, just in case they saw her in the shadows. She didn’t know why she was surprised by their words; she had said herself many times before that she was tall and plain. But it stung to hear it stated aloud. She supposed no one had ever really cared to comment on her appearance before, because her name was not linked with anyone of interest.
"Surely it’s not serious, then. The late countess was such a beauty; I cannot imagine he would follow her with somebody plain."
