“It is best that you don’t know.”
“Very well,” his father said. “But your mother is right. You need an heir.”
Caleb groaned. “Not et tu?”
“If you do not have an heir, then my title will be passed to your cousin, David,” his father said. “He is an imbecile.”
“David is not an imbecile,” Caleb attempted.
His father lifted his brow. “Surely you can’t say that with a straight face,” he remarked. “I blame it on when he fell off his horse and hit his head.”
“That was when David was ten, and it was just a bump on the back of the head,” Caleb said.
“Which no doubt caused his simple-mindedness,” his father pressed. “Do you truly want David to be responsible for our thriving estate?”
“This is assuming David is still alive when I die,” Caleb pointed out.
Putting his hands up, his father said, “You are right. The title might pass to the imbecile’s son.”
Caleb grudgingly acknowledged that his father did have a point. David might not be the most astute individual, often ignorant, but he wasn’t inherently a bad person. The question lingered- was mere ignorance reason enough for marriage?
His father stood up. “Just think on what I said,” he urged. “There are hundreds of people that are dependent on us for their livelihoods. We have a duty to not let them down.”
After his father departed from the room, Caleb reached for a ledger and started to review it. However, his focus wavered, repeatedly revisiting the same line.
Frustrated, he slammed the ledger shut. Blast it all. He understood duty, more so than anyone else. His duty was to his King and Country. He wouldn’t enter into marriage solely for the sake of producing an heir. They all deserved better; he deserved better.
And now he was forced to endure a dinner with Simone and her father. He had little doubt that Simone was equally annoyed by his mother’s matchmaking attempt. She had made her thoughts on matrimony rather clear to him.
Anette stepped into the room and asked, “Are you still upset with me?”
“Yes,” Caleb replied.
“You have only yourself to blame,” Anette said. “You have never shown favor to a young woman before.”
“It was just a carriage ride.”
“So you keep saying, but I think it is something much more,” Anette said, approaching the desk. “You were smiling when I saw you with Miss Delacourt.”
Caleb shot his sister an exasperated glance. “Should I have been scowling instead?” he asked in a frustrated tone.
“No, you wouldn’t want to scare the poor girl,” Anette said.
Her innocent remark caused him to let out a dry chuckle. “I doubt that would scare Miss Delacourt.”
Anette, lowering her voice, leaned in. “Is she a spy, too?”
Caleb maintained a composed expression, carefully choosing his words. “Why do you ask?”
“If you aren’t courting her, then that is the only explanation that I can come up with,” Anette responded, her tone carrying a hint of curiosity. “I thought the agency didn’t employ ladies.”
“Does this conversation have a point?” Caleb asked, his eyebrows raised.
Anette narrowed her eyes, the curiosity intensifying. “You aren’t going to answer my questions, are you?” she asked.
“No, I am not.”
“By not answering them, you are answering them,” Anette stated.
