“Exactly,” Christopher said. “To remain in the public eye, I had to be perfect. I had to be exactly what people expected. No drama. No cause for gossip. The perfect son and a model of propriety.”
Theodore snorted. “You did rather well at it, I must say.”
“Years of practice,” Christopher said.
“And your marriage?” Alistair pushed. “You told us that it was arranged before your father’s death.”
“My aunt is the reason,” Christopher said. “She and my father worked to find me a match quickly, one that would avert suspicion. The perfect wife for the perfect lord. But my father died, leaving my aunt to finalize the details.”
“Which you were only too happy to go along with,” Theodore said in realization. “You know, I always wondered why you were so eager to marry. Especially when you have never shown any inclination toward it.”
Christopher shrugged. “Lies on top of lies, and eventually you forget the truth so that lies become real.”
“And I take it that Rosalind…” Alistair let the question trail.
Christopher exhaled, and his shoulders slumped. “She found out. That is why I am here…” He looked about the room with a curled nose. “When she found out the truth, I panicked and announced an end to our marriage.” He scoffed. “I truly believed that would be better than to risk the truth coming out.”
“And why did you think the truth would come out?” Alistair asked.
Christopher blinked. “Because… well… I just assumed that Rose…”
“That she would tell people?” Theodore frowned. “Why on earth would she do that? A rumor such as that would hurt her just as much as it would you.”
“She would have every reason to keep it hidden,” Alistair agreed.
“That’s not the point,” Christopher sighed. “I don’t want it hidden. I don’t want a marriage built on lies – I don’t want to put her in that position in the first place. It is my mess, not Rose’s.”
“Ah, now I see…” Theodore sat himself up. “You weren’t worried that she would tell people. You were worried about what she would think of you.”
“I…” Christopher winced, knowing the words to be true. “That is a small part of it.”
“That is the whole part,” Theodore said rightly. “You are worried she will learn the truth and turn up her nose. Admit it.”
“So what if I am?”
“Christopher…” Alistair rested a hand on his shoulder. “If you had seen your wife as we did, you would know that the last thing on her mind is… well, whatever this is. She does not care, is the point. She was worried about you. Damn upset, by my mind.”
“He’s right,” Theodore added. “And from everything I know of your wife, I doubt she cares one way or the other who your mother is. I know we certainly don’t.”
“That’s right,” Alistair said rightly. “We don’t care, so why should she?”
Christopher looked at Alistair and then at Theodore. He saw in the way that they looked at him the truth in their words. He sawconcern. He saw worry. He saw love and compassion. And the one thing he did not see was judgment.
“You… you really don’t care?” His voice cracked.
Theodore scoffed. “In all honesty, I am almost grateful for it. Not only does it explain a lot, but if it improves your personality even a fraction, then I think we will all be pleasantly glad for the change.”
“We’re your friends, Christopher,” Alistair said. “And who your mother is will not change that.”
Christopher felt like a damn fool.
His entire life, everything that he had done, was built around the idea that if anyone learned the truth about him, they would disown him without question. He had lived his life in fear, and for what? Nothing, and no good reason, it looked like.
“I don’t know what to say…” He sniffed back tears that threatened to burst.
“I suspect there are many things you wish to say,” Theodore said. “Just as I suspect that we are not the ones you should be saying them to.” He raised a knowing eyebrow at him. “We forgive you for the lies, Christopher, but you don’t really care what we think.”
“I do.”
