Page 3 of Reforming Lord Neil

“Alderton—” The marchioness stood. “Stop. I will not have you bring up those old accusations here. You have made your point.”

Neil rose slowly to his feet and walked, as though bored, to stand behind the settee where Olivia still sat, quietly fuming.

“Oh, but I have only begun to make my point.” Alderton turned, his cold stare sending a shiver down Neil’s spine. “I have already spoken to Lord Brunfield and Captain Duncan,” he said, referring to his eldest sons by titles rather than names. “They understand their responsibility to this family. Brunfield has managed to have three children, two sons, to continue the line. Captain Duncan has forged powerful political alliances. But the three of you”—his lip curled with distaste—“a marchioness taking lovers, a son as useless as he is lazy, and a daughter without a shred of virtue, without the decency to even marry, are no more than dead weight to a man with my political ambition.”

Olivia put a hand to her throat. Neil moved his hand from the back of the settee to her shoulder.

For her part, their mother raised her chin higher. “My lord, if we are going to point out reprehensible behavior, perhaps we ought to start with the head of the family. Your many indiscretions do not paint you as an honorable man. Perhaps we have all followed your lead.”

The marquess moved forward, quick as lightning, and grabbed his wife by the shoulder. Neil tensed, ready to spring over the furniture to go to his mother’s aid. It had been years since his father had dared strike a member of the family. Not since the first time Neil had struck him back.

Neil’s movement, though small, was enough to attract his father’s eye. “Ah. Think you to challenge my authority in my own home, Neil?”

“My mother does not appear comfortable in your grasp, my lord,” Neil answered, keeping his tone even. Not challenging his father. Not yet.

“Your mother is hardly a lady.” The marquess released her, and her golden head bowed. “I am discreet in my pursuits, wife. You, however, have been seen.”

“What?” she whispered. She took a step backward. Olivia rose and put her arm around her mother. That left Neil alone, the couch between him and the rest of his family.

“Discretion is all I asked for,” the marquess snarled, pacing back to the fireplace. “My wife is seen bidding a lover farewell, my daughter’s attempts at luring a man into her bed are exposed, and my useless third son does nothing of note but spend my money.”

Neil’s hands curled into fists. “I never spend more than you give me. Unlike my eldest brother. Tell me, Father, are Brunfield’s gambling debts acceptable?”

The marquess glared over his shoulder at Neil. “Gambling is acceptable behavior for a man of his standing and wealth. He has to do something to amuse himself. His debts are small, considering what he brings to this family as my heir. You, on the other hand, are entirely expendable. You could have had a career in the church, and that might have been of some use. One could always use a bishop in the family. Or you might have gone into the law. But instead, you are a lazy, idle leech. That changes now, Neil. If you expect to receive your allowance, you will do as I say.”

Neil tipped his chin upward. “And what is it you say, my lord?”

“Your lack of a wife has given me reason to suspect you lack passion, but given the way Inglewood reacted to your wooing of his countess, there may be more to you than I thought. I have considered how I might use your hidden talents.” The marquess’s eyes gleamed. “I have a political opponent with a wife who may very well fall for your charms.”

The hypocrisy his father displayed turned Neil’s stomach. His reasons for seeking out the Countess of Inglewood had been his own. She was the first, and only, married woman he had approached and he had failed to secure more than her pity. But his father demanding Neil abase himself to spy on another man, while tearing apart his mother and sister for similar behavior, disgusted him.

“I might be a useless third son,” Neil said slowly, “but I will not seduce anyone at your command.”

The marquess smirked. “No? Then you continue to prove useless. Of course, I am not surprised at your disobedience. You have ever been a disappointment.” He looked to his wife, still standing with her head bowed. “My lady, do you still claim this man is my child? I see more evidence every day that he is not.”

Neil came over the settee and placed himself between the marquess and his mother, who had appeared to flinch away from that accusation.

“Take back your slander, my lord. Father or not, no one speaks to my mother in this way.” Neil kept his hands at his side, though he was ready to fight with his hands if need be. He had never struck a man other than his father. His brothers, of course, but fighting during youthful disagreements did not count. Yet he was ready to swing at his father in defense of his mother.

Perhaps it would prove refreshing.

“Neil.” His mother’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Darling. Stop. Fighting will solve nothing.”

“Neither of them are mine, are they?” The marquess looked from Neil to Olivia, who made not a single sound. “That is why they look nothing like me, and why they behave without a shred of respect. Disobedient, unnatural children.”

Neil took a step forward. “You will not speak to my mother and sister that way. Not before me.”

The marquess folded his arms, appearing as relaxed as though he had done no more than share his opinion on the tides. “Then you are dismissed.”

“My lord—” His mother started to speak, but Neil would fight his own battles.

“Dismissed? I have yet to hear your grand plan for taking up leadership of your party.” He laughed, coldly. “It sounds as though it will go as well as this little family gathering.”

“You forget yourself, Neil,” Lord Alderton said, voice lowering. Neil recognized danger looming, but had yet to discover what shape it would take.

“I forget nothing. You raised me to be this way. No matter how you deny it, your influence has turned me into the man I am. Are you not proud, Father?” he asked, flashing an impudent grin at the man he hated.

“Not at all. I am disgusted.” The marquess narrowed his eyes. “And I am finished with you. Remove yourself from my sight.”