Chapter 4

Four

" I 'm only speaking the truth, William – he prefers you to me, he always did. I didn't much care about it when we were youngsters. But it's different now. He holds you up as the example I'm to aspire to. You've got everything, and what have I got? I'm not married, I'm a disappointment to my father, and I'm not going to inherit his title for a very long time," Maximilian said, sighing and gulping the brandy from his glass.

William looked at him sympathetically. They had dined at the Gresham Club – a gentleman's establishment in Lancaster – that afternoon and were now drinking in the smoking room. The evening was drawing on, and Maximilian had become animated by the brandies, never knowing when to say know to another.

"It's not like that. You know that. He doesn't prefer you to me. But perhaps I'm a little more…malleable," William replied.

Maximilian laughed.

"Malleable? What's that supposed to mean? You do as he tells you? Well, that's true enough. But why? He's not your father, is he?" Maximilian retorted.

He had only grudgingly agreed to spend the day with his cousin. An uneasy truce had been called with his father – mediated by the duchess – and William had invited Maximilian to Lancaster so the two of them could talk. But Maximilian was bored with talking. It never got him anywhere, even as it reminded him of his many apparent faults.

"He's been good to me. My education in London, the title, his kindness to my mother, and the benefits of being his godson. I don't know why you rebel against him so. What's wrong with settling down? You could find a wife – you're the heir to one of the richest dukedoms in the country," William replied.

Maximilian sighed. It was easy for William to talk – he had a beautiful wife, Anne, and a son, Jacob. They lived at Podmore Grange, a beautifully restored house, close to the Burnley Abbey estate, and William was well liked and respected by his tenants and in the village. Maximilian, however, was not. He was something of a joke to the local people.

" If he's not drunk, he's going to be, " one person had rudely put it – but there was truth in the words.

"But who'd want to marry me? Besides, I don't want to get married," Maximilian replied, even as he would dearly have liked to have done.

The thought was often on his mind – to marry, to be in love, to court a woman. But his behavior spoke of other desires. Maximilian had the reputation of a rake, and it was women like Clara Greenwood, rather than the belles of local society, who attracted his attention. He was free with his favors, and not particularly concerned who received them. In this, he knew he had been lucky, and his father had reminded him on countless occasions as to the danger of scandal.

" Don't you realize the things they write about us? " the duke had said, after Maximilian had woken up under an apple tree in the garden of a woman with a dubious reputation.

But Maximilian did not care much about his reputation. He counted on the fact of his inheritance, and apart from that, nothing else mattered. He would be the Duke of Lancaster – whether mired in scandal or not.

"Plenty of women would want to marry you – some of them even having good reputations," William retorted.

Maximilian called for the steward to bring him another drink, even as his cousin pointed to the late hour.

"What's wrong? Won't Anne like you being out so late? That's the difference between us, Cousin. You have your responsibilities, I don't. And that's how I want it to remain," Maximilian replied, taking a gulp of brandy, and sitting back with a satisfied sigh.

His cousin looked at him sympathetically. Maximilian knew what he thought of him – what everyone thought of him. He was a rake, and a rake would not change his ways.

"And what about your mother? Doesn't it matter what she thinks?" he asked, and Maximilian sighed.

He had known William would use this tactic against him. Maximilian loved his mother dearly, and he had no desire to upset her, even as his father's sensibilities were a different matter. He knew the duchess worried about him, and to that, at least, he had a care.

"It does, but…well, she'd be better off not doing so," Maximilian replied.

He did not need anyone to worry about him. He was twenty-two years old – his mistakes were his own, and what others thought was an irrelevance.

"You'll only upset her. She was weeping in my mother's arms only last week – lamenting the state you've got yourself into," William replied.

But to this, Maximilian merely raised his glass in a toast.

"To my mother – may she never worry about me again. Let me alone with my rakish ways. I'm proud of them," he exclaimed, taking a gulp of the brandy, as other members of the Gresham Club looked on askance.

"Really, Maximilian – don't do this to yourself. It's not right," William said, and Maximilian laughed.

"Are you lecturing me? The man taken for a fool by Connor Edge, who paraded himself around London as the gentleman on my father's good name? You were hardly the paradigm of reason then, were you, Cousin?" Maximilian hissed.

Even in his drunken state, he knew better than to speak loudly of his true affiliation with William. But the facts of the matter remained – his cousin, whose mother had once been a servant at Burnley Abbey – had been educated by Maximilian's father, the duke, and sent to London. There, by means of an unfortunate manipulation, he had come under the auspices of Connor Edge, the former land agent, and a sworn enemy of Maximilian's father. William had been far too trusting, and Connor Edge had used the fact to his advantage, turning William into a laughingstock, and setting him up as a failure. The matter had been resolved, Connor Edge was in prison for gambling crimes, but William's embarrassment remained.

"I've made mistakes, and that's why I want to help you, William. I don't want you to make the same mistakes as I've made. We're all allowed a second chance. I'm grateful to your father for mine, and I know he'll give you one, too, if only you'll allow it," William replied.

Maximilian sighed. He had heard enough for one night. It was always the same argument – the same condemnation of his behavior. None of them would be happy until he had renounced his former ways and conformed to the pattern they themselves laid out. The duke wanted a son in the mold of William, and William wanted a cousin he could rely on as the worthy inheritor of the estate, as he himself gave advice as the new land agent.

"I'm sure it's not as simple as that," Maximilian said, rising to his feet.

The time had come to go home. Nothing had changed, nor would it, as far as Maximilian was concerned. The stewards seemed relieved the animated conversation had come to an end, and they bid Maximilian and William good night, the two cousins stepping out onto the street, where it was now dark. Their carriage was nowhere to be seen, and Maximilian cursed under his breath.

"It's all right, I told him he could wait in the yard behind the club. We shouldn't begrudge him the opportunity to warm himself," William said, and he went off to find the carriage driver, leaving Maximilian pacing up and down in front of the steps leading up to the club.

"What a wasted night," Maximilian thought to himself.

He liked his cousin. They got on well – now, at least. But if William believed Maximilian was ever going to change, he was surely mistaken. They were total opposites, and Maximilian knew he would never live up to the ideals of his cousin – or his father.

"And thus, I'll always be a disappointment," Maximilian said to himself, shrugging his shoulders, as he noticed a carriage pulling up in front of an inn and lodging house opposite.

A young woman clambered down, passing some coins to the driver, who pointed her in the direction of the lodgings. She was pretty, and Maximilian smiled to himself, deciding to have a little fun before William returned with the carriage. He stepped forward, clearing his throat. The woman looked up at him, her face illuminated in the light of the lamp above the inn door, where a flickering candle burned behind the glass.

"Yes?" she asked, looking Maximilian up and down with a disdainful expression.

She was a pretty creature, with long blonde hair, wearing a purple dress, and a traveling cloak, a bag held in her hand. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips red and inviting. Maximilian had never seen her before, but he thought her quite attractive, and wondered if he might steal a kiss from her before returning home.

"You've just arrived, have you? I don't recognize you," he said, and the woman laughed.

"Why should you recognize me? Am I meant to be recognizable?" she asked.

There was a haughtiness in her voice, and Maximilian decided she needed reining in. A woman should not be so forward in her words.

"That's no way to speak to me. Don't you know who I am?" he said, and the woman shook her head.

"No, I don't. But I know one thing – whoever you are, you're a drunk, and I'd rather not know you," she replied, turning as though to make her way inside the inn.

Maximilian, emboldened by alcohol, and angry at having thus been so spoken to, lunged forward, grabbing her by the arm.

"I'm Lord Maximilian Oakley, son of the Duke of Lancaster. I only wanted to talk to you. You women are all the same, aren't you?" he exclaimed.

But to his surprise, on hearing these words, the woman turned to him and raised her eyebrows.

"You're the son of the Duke of Lancaster?" she said, her tone changing, and Maximilian nodded, smiling, and feeling pleased at the change his words had wrought in her.

Few women could fail to be impressed at such a title. The dukedom was an ancient one, and the Duke of Lancaster was, by far, the biggest landowner in the county, if not the north of England. The estate was a wealthy one, and with properties spread across the north, and business investments through the empire, Maximilian would, one day, be a very rich man indeed.

"That's right," he replied, and the woman put down her bag and smiled.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, holding out her hand.

Maximilian took it, still feeling pleased with himself and hoping William would be delayed in his return with the carriage.

"Maximilian Oakley, at your service, miss…?" he said, for the woman had not yet introduced herself.

"Lily… Lily Porter," the woman replied, and Maximilian raised her hand to his lips.

"It's my pleasure, I assure you. You've only just arrived in Lancaster?" he asked, still holding her hand in his.

She nodded.

"I've come from London. It was a long journey, but I'm here now. I've come for the season. I'm to stay with a friend. Will you be…attending the events?" Lily asked.

Maximilian nodded. The season was an excuse to indulge his pleasures. He looked forward to it, even as his parents had already warned him of the dangers.

" Don't cause a scandal, Maximilian ," his father had said, but Maximilian had not listened – he was happy to cause a scandal, even as he knew the consequences.

"How wonderful. I'm sure we'll be seeing more of one another, won't we?" she said, and Maximilian nodded.

"I hope so. But…are you here alone?" he asked, for he had expected a chaperone to appear at any moment and chase him away.

Young women were always accompanied by chaperones, but to his surprise, Lily shook her head.

"Not at the moment, no. It's…complicated. But I'll have my friend, Alicia – she'll be my chaperone at the balls and soirees. Why? Do I need a chaperone to talk to the son of the Duke of Lancaster? Aren't I safe?" she asked, and Maximilian smiled.

"I'm sure you are," he said, his hand lingering in hers, as he stepped forward, intent on planting a kiss on her lips.

She cocked her head to the side, looking at him coquettishly, and giggling. He found her very attractive, but as he moved forward, intending to pull her into his embrace, a voice from behind called out.

"Maximilian, I've got the carriage. Come on, it'll be late by the time we get back," William said.

Maximilian sighed. His cousin had spoiled the moment, even as Lily smiled at him.

"You'd better go – I don't want you getting into trouble on my account," she said, and Maximilian laughed.

"I'm sure I won't, and I hope to see you again very soon – at the first ball of the season, perhaps. Or before, if I'm lucky. Why not take a carriage ride around the parkland at Burnley Abbey? Tell them I sent you, and we could ride together," he said, bringing her hand to his lips again.

"Do you invite yourself into every woman's carriage?" she asked, and Maximilian winked at her.

"Not every woman, no," he replied, and stepping back, he bowed to her, watching as she made her way up the steps into the inn.

As he turned, he found William watching him and shaking his head.

"I leave you for a few moments, Maximilian, and you find a woman to flirt with. Who was she?" he asked, and Maximilian shrugged his shoulders.

"Just an idle distraction, cousin. But pretty enough. She's here for the season. That's long enough for me," he said, following William back to the waiting carriage, intent on acquainting himself further with Lily Porter and discovering just how far she might go with gentle persuasion.