Yet, as I looked, my mother’s face turned redder and redder. She feared my association with Miss Wilcox.
“My heart breaks for you, having such pitiful and small-minded beliefs.” I stepped toward the door. “I need to go, Mother.”
“Mark, wait. I love you. I want you to be happy. But you know your father will refuse to support your marriage to anyone he doesn’t approve. I won’t be able to save you this time. I won’t be able to help at all.”
My mother did her best for me.
Though she never stood up to my father directly, she aided my moving out and having my lodgings far from here. She insisted that I had the best lessons even when Prahmn balked. I lost count of the music room designs I’d influenced because of her bragging of my skills.
And she never laughed when I told her I wanted to be a composer.
Those might seem like small concessions. But they were huge in the house of Prahmn. “Goodbye, Mama. I’ll see you Sunday. We can pretend this conversation never happened.”
“Mark, don’t go without answering. Are you engaged to the Wilcox woman?”
“Her name is Georgina Wilcox. And she is the finest person I know. Mama, I’m not asking you for anything. I know your position. But know that if I marry, it will be someone I love and respect. I’m interested in Miss Wilcox. What I feel was not public, but it has now become public. These papers put her in danger. I won’t stand for that.”
She flopped onto the chaise, draping her silken hands across her face. “Oh, what will become of you? Of me? My heart—”
“Mama. Listen. I know you can hear me. I’ll never put you in a position of choosing between me or my father. I know where your priorities align. I won’t ask you to help again. Go back to the war council and complain of your hardheaded son.”
“You make jokes, but can’t you see the little things I’ve done? And trust me. I know marriage is difficult. You must understand that such a union will require a lot of support. A marriage to Miss Wilcox will require your father’s blessing. You won’t have it.”
“Does it matter? Prahmn’s away with his latest . . . friend. Not exactly a paragon of strength or virtue. And you haven’t had much success making him do what’s right by agreeing with him.”
She popped up and came very close to giving me a well-deserved slap.
“Sorry, Mama. Prahmn is your choice, one you made for your family, your sisters, not your heart. I’ll choose my happiness. I cannot speak to what Miss Wilcox will or will not do. We will have to see. None of this requires your approval or my father’s.”
Mama paced, then flopped again onto the chaise. “What of your obligations to your family, Mark? Our public names—”
“You have the heir and a second. They’re following the paths you want. As I’ve always known, I’m inconsequential to the plan. You’ve all made that very clear. So I respectfully decline taking your advice. I’m following my heart. I know not where it will lead, but it’s going to be exciting.”
“What are the coal woman’s aspirations? She obviously wants a title like her sister. None of us will ever call her Lady Mark Sebastian. She will be snubbed, cut direct at every turn. Are you ready for that? Are you ready to be cut away from us?”
Georgina’s words about some people not being kind when she shopped in places where they didn’t know her family struck me to my core. It burned like acid deep in my chest when I realized “some people” were my family. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to being in places where no one knows the Sebastians. That means I’m going to have to learn not to care.”
“Not care about your family? Mark. Family is everything. You can’t walk away from it. And what of the Harlbert’s Prize committeemen? You think that they will think differently from Prahmn? You believe they will award a prize to a man of the ton who chose a coal wife?”
My music meant everything, but my honor was my soul. “Of all the slights I’d ever endured from my father, this one from your lips has to be the worst. Mama, if you think for one moment I’d turn away from love because of dark-hearted fools or my mother’s hatred of Miss Wilcox’s beautiful brown eyes and skin, then you don’t know me.”
I left her speechless, blinking, and rushed out to the landing.
When I trudged down the stairs to the grand hall, she called out to me. “Mark, I’m just trying to look out for your best interests.”
Standing in the shadow of the warrior Augustus of Prima Porta, she called out, “Mark, you didn’t agree. You always agree.”
“If I ever did, it was because I wasn’t listening. Mama, I did hear your words this time. I’ve heard them with my whole heart. I respectfully disagree.”
Walking out of the house, I heard her run back to her parlor, her tragic chaise, and the brandy she used to comfort herself.
The butler was on the portico directing the groom to get my horse. Chancey gave me a nod. “Standing on your own is hard, my lord. But it’s the first act of walking in your own power. Have a good evening, sir.”
Reciprocating with a dip of my chin, I went to the drive and mounted my horse, then started back to my lodgings. I needed to finish the sonata. My father wasn’t going to take my refusal very well. They were divided on many things, but concerning whom I would marry, the marquess and marchioness were in agreement.
I needed my own income.
More than anything, I needed to succeed without their help. This desire wasn’t about Georgina or the Wilcoxes. This had been building for a long time. I must find my power and stand tall.
