Dervil made a dismissive sound. “You have made me pay for years. You have blocked me from business associations I wanted, purchasedland that I coveted. And if you don’t particularly want me as a father-in-marriage, well, I’m not excited about you either.”
“Why are you here?”
“Because I want matters settled between us. I want to approach my daughter, and I want to do it with your permission.”
Mars could almost hear Clarissa’s voice as he said, “That is out of my hands. My wife makes her own decisions.” He looked down at the letter under his arm. He’d never said truer words, that was, if he still had a wife.
“I don’t expect you to like me, Marsden. I don’t like myself most times. I don’t know how to approach your wife, but I’m going to try. I have really no one to show for my life except for her. And, yes, I am aware you will not vote for me and probably do your best to win the chair for Fenton. Power and politics have nothing to do with the reasons for my being here. I want an opportunity to redeem myself. Two wives and no children. I had come to believe I was doomed—and now, to learn I am a father. I don’t expect you to understand. You are a young man, but this is a blessing. Even if she never speaks to me, she is a gift.”
In that moment, Mars realized he wasn’t looking at an enemy but at a lonely man. One whose decisions in life had brought him to where he was.
It was as if he was seeing a reflection of where he could be years from now. Yes, he had Dora . . . except he remembered somethingClarissa had said about how his position in the Lords should be more than just gamesmanship. The responsibilities were not about power. She would tell him, sounding like one of her father’s indeterminate sermons, that one should do what was right.
“Why do you want the position of Chairman of Committees?” he asked Dervil.
“To keep it from going to your mother.” Dervil laughed as if it should be obvious. “She derailed my life years ago. She treated me as if I was some nobody. I killed a man because of her. Do you believe you were the only one outraged? I was a pariah. However, I’ve worked hard to redeem what I could of my reputation. Or perhaps I want to be a part of history. To have my name recorded as a politician of prominence.”
He wanted power. His mother wanted to be married to a powerful man.
No candidate seemed to be thinking about what was best for the country. A plan began forming in Mars’s mind. One that Clarissa would approve. “My lord, thank you for calling.” He rose and came around the desk, moving to the door, a signal the interview was over.
Dervil stood. He extended his hand. “Then, can we set our differences aside? I wish permission to speak to my daughter.”
Mars did not touch the hand. “You will have to take that matter up with her. I was not jesting. I have known Clarissa all my life and she makes her own decisions.”
Dervil’s hand came down. “All your life? Did she have a good one? Was she well taken care of?” Instead of being offended by Mars’s stiffness, he acted hungry for information.
Mars thought of the matrons, of the villagers. “My wife is well-respected.” Far better than he was, although he was determined to change. Hehadto change. He wanted to be worthy of Clarissa’s love. She didn’t want a man who howled his frustration with the world. She deserved a husband who met her high standards.
And he may have already lost her.
“I am relieved to hear that she had people who cared for her,” Dervil said. “I shall contact her. I shall write.”
“You may do as you wish.” Mars opened the door. “Dalton will see you out.”
The butler had been waiting out in the hall. He stepped froward. “This way, my lord.”
Dervil had no choice but to leave. Finally.
Mars returned to the desk. He pulled out pen and paper. In his slashing handwriting, he was equally direct to Clarissa.Do not give up on us yet. M
He sealed it and carried it downstairs to Dalton. “If there is a response, tell the rider I wish to receive it with all haste.” He wouldn’t put it past Clarissa to inform him he wasn’t welcome under his own roof.
Mars hoped she didn’t.
He then set to work on a plan that had been brewing in his mind as he’d listened to Dervil.
And he was motivated by more than just being the man Clarissa thought he should be.
No, he wanted to become the manhebelieved he should be.
After a busy day and night, Mars made his way to the Thatched House Club located at number 80 St. James Street. Every politician and university man knew the place. It had a huge meeting room in a splendid location with good food and drink. What more could politicians ask for?
It was here the Tories were meeting for their vote today.
He rode. He did not plan to be long and wanted to head to Belvoir at his first chance. For a coin, a street lad was willing to walk the horse while Mars went inside.
Mars was just reaching the door when he heard his mother call his name. He turned and saw her leaning out the open door of a coach lined up in front. He approached her.
