Page 34 of A Wallflower to Win the Viscount

That sounded even better. It made her sound quite formidable, and not at all like a wallflower who lived alone with her animal friends and was sneered at by men like Jasper and all those mocking débutantes.

‘So what is this man like? This Earl of Stonely? Our adversary?’

She also liked the sound of our, as if they were in this together.

‘I’d describe him as beastly except that I tend to like beasts, and I have to admit I have never really liked Cousin Jasper.’

She sighed, feeling she was perhaps being a bit unfair. Aunt Clemmie had always advised her to try to see the best in everyone or at least to understand the reasons for their bad behaviour and to show compassion. ‘I suppose it’s not really his fault, though.’

‘I suspect you are being far too forgiving. It sounds to me like it is entirely his fault.’

‘Well, it isn’t all that surprising he grew into the man he is. The earl and countess doted on him because he was the son and heir. They indulged him completely, which only made him think he was entitled to the very best of everything, that everyone should defer to him and that anything he wanted was his for the taking. It’s almost inevitable he would grow into a self-entitled man who cares nothing for anyone else.’

She smiled tentatively at Lucian, expecting him to smile back or maybe nod in understanding. Instead, he released a shuddering groan and placed his head in his hands, as if her words had broken through his defences, leaving him vulnerable and his raw emotions painfully exposed.

Chapter Eleven

Lucian quickly regained control of himself. For a moment he had allowed Primrose’s words to affect him in a way he neither wanted nor fully understood. He lowered his hands, which had somehow clenched at the sides of his head, composed his expression and looked at Primrose.

She was gazing at him with undeserved compassion, but what she deserved was an explanation for his bizarre behaviour.

‘It appears your cousin Jasper and I are not dissimilar,’ Lucian said, keeping his voice as steady as possible. ‘I, too, was the son and heir who was doted upon and led to believe I could have anything I wanted.’ He paused, fighting to stop his shame from once again consuming him. ‘And anyone,’ he added quietly, a lump growing in his throat.

She said nothing, just continued to look at him in that gentle manner, obviously not understanding what he meant, not grasping the depth of his guilt. He did not want her looking at him with such tenderness. He needed her to accept that he was as far from a knight in shining armour as it was possible for a man to be.

He took a deep breath, then plunged on before he could change his mind. ‘I thought my father was the finest man in the world because he treated me like a little prince and expected everyone in the household to do the same. I was constantly praised as the most intelligent, most talented, most attractive boy in creation, and I came to believe it was true. Everyone deferred to me as if I was the only person in the world who mattered, other than my father.’

She nodded slowly, and he could tell she understood what such indulgence could do to a boy, but for him it was worse than just becoming selfish and arrogant, like her cousin.

‘I had no idea how my father treated other people, including my poor downtrodden mother.’ His gaze dropped to his hands, which had somehow curled themselves back into fists. He forced them to release their grip and wished with all his heart he could make amends for not understanding how much his lovely, gentle mother had suffered. But it was now too late.

‘It wasn’t until I was eighteen and my father had a so-called man-to-man talk with me that the blinkers were removed from my eyes and I discovered what an ogre he was and how he had been preparing me to follow in his footsteps.’

He picked up his brandy glass, then looked over at Primrose. She was watching him with such gentleness, showing she still did not realise just what a degenerate his father was.

‘And yes, that did include becoming a ladies’ man, as people euphemistically described his behaviour.’

He swirled the amber liquid around the bottom of the glass. ‘During that talk, my father made it very clear that any young lady could be mine for the taking, whether the lady wanted it or not.’

She gave a small gasp. Finally, she saw the extent of her father’s depravity and the shame that Lucian bore.

‘Is that when you left England?’ she asked quietly. ‘After that talk?’

He nodded. ‘I wanted to get away from my father, but I also wanted to get away from myself and the knowledge that, while I had been living a cosseted life, while I had been thinking my father an impressive, admirable man whose behaviour I wanted to emulate, my mother, the female servants, and so many other women had been suffering terribly and I had done nothing to help them.’

He swallowed a mouthful of brandy, enjoying the feel of it burning down his throat. ‘I ran away because I wanted to sever any association with my father’s name. Now I am Viscount Westhaven.’

‘But you are not your father.’

He huffed out a small humourless laugh. ‘I’m not much better. The house doesn’t just remind me of my father’s true character. Every day it reminds me that I fled instead of standing up to him.’

‘You were only eighteen. Not much more than a boy, and he was a powerful man.’

‘That was no excuse. I should have tried to do something.’ He looked down at his glass. ‘I heard not long after I had arrived in America that my father became ill and was forced to spend much of the next ten years at his Cheshire estate, alone, where he could do little harm. So at least I had the consolation of knowing he could not destroy any other women’s lives. But it still did not excuse my cowardly behaviour.’

‘You’re not a coward,’ she said firmly. ‘And you’re nothing like your father. Would your father have helped his next-door neighbour when she was in difficulty? Would he have helped the very person who had ruined his chances of selling his house?’

He looked over at her, at her pretty face, her gentle blue eyes, her sweet lips smiling at him so kindly. He did not smile back. There was no doubt his father would have done so if he found his neighbour attractive, and there was no denying Primrose was an exceedingly beautiful young lady. And his father would have also been more than willing to take advantage of her naive and trusting nature. He would have seen such a woman as easy prey. Was that why Lucian was helping her when it was against his own interests to do so?