Chapter 30

Chapter

Thirty

H e was moping. Alexander lay on the settee in his mother's modest drawing room, staring at the ceiling, having already counted several hundred dust particles floating in the air.

He could feel his mother's gaze on him every few minutes, and he knew it was only a matter of time before she grew weary of his discontentment and chastised him.

And perhaps she would be right in giving him a set-down. He had possibly ruined everything with Charlotte, all because he blamed her for a life she had been born into, not chosen. She was not responsible for how the ton worked, and she had never treated him disrespectfully. Quite the opposite, if her words of love and adoration toward him were any indication.

"My darling boy," his mother began in her calm, quiet tone. "I love you, but you must leave this house, go into society, and claim what is yours."

He sat up and stared at her, shocked that she would want him to do such a heinous thing. "Go into the very society that has shunned me for years? Take on the title of a man who let us rot in London while he had a house but streets away from here?" He shook his head, stood, and moved to the sideboard. He poured himself a healthy glass of brandy and downed it. "I would rather not if you do not mind."

"While I do think you should welcome the title of Lord Lacy, that is not why I believe you should take on the responsibilities of that estate. Becoming Lord Lacy enables you to marry the woman you love and adore. I've watched you utterly despondent these past weeks, and I'll no longer sit around watching you wallow in your thoughts. You must enter society, claim that wonderful woman who loved you before you were her equal, and marry her before some other lord does, and you forever regret your obstinance."

The pit of his stomach clenched at the thought of Charlotte being courted or marrying another. He would never survive the pain of losing her. Although, in a way, he had already let her slip through his fingers. His foolish, clumsy fingers.

"I do not think she will talk to me. The things I said to her shame me, and I would not blame her if she could not find a way to forgive my blindness."

"You were shocked by the news you received, and while I believe you acted in a manner unsuited for your character, you are not to blame. Nor is Lady Charlotte for being delighted by your new title. A disclosure that enables you to marry without ridicule or shame."

He inwardly flinched, hating that any person born out of wedlock was shunned for the errors of their parents. Or that, for years, he had been one of them—shamed and excluded when, all along, he was legitimate. He could not forgive such cruelty.

But then, to win Charlotte's hand once more, her love and affection, he did not have to forgive those who wronged him as a boy and young man. He could look down on them, pity them for their small-minded ways, and try to make the world a better place for children who could not change their birthright.

His mother rang the silver bell on the small round table beside her chair, and May, their only maid, entered the room. "Can I help you with anything, Lady Lacy?" she asked.

The use of her new title hit him like a physical assault, and he met his mother's amused smile.

"Tea, please, May. And bring in the lemon cake Cook made yesterday. I feel like something sour."

"Of course, my lady." May left them alone, and Alexander rounded on his mother.

"Lady Lacy? Whatever are you about?"

His mother shrugged, picking up her knitting. "What of it? I was married to your father legally. That document Mr. Fitzroy delivered proved who I should have been all these years. I'll be damned if I don't claim who I rightfully am, no matter how you feel about it." His mother threw him a small smile. "Even with my sharp words, know I love you, my dear. But I think you, too, should accept who you are and use it."

He knew what she meant. Make use of it in the form of marrying the only woman he had ever loved, the only woman who ever made him feel alive, made him feel like himself, and accepted him.

"Do you think she will speak to me? I've heard the D'Estel family is attending Duke Lane-Fox's Season-ending ball. He's Lady Matilda's father, you remember me telling you—one of Charlotte's closest friends."

"Well," his mother stated with certainty. "What a perfect occasion to apologize and beg Lady Charlotte to forgive you. And ask her to be your wife and future Lady Lacy."

"You realize you'll become a dowager if I marry, and you've only just claimed the title? Do you not wish to have it a few more weeks to yourself?"

"Of course not. I'm thrilled to be a dowager at my age, and I would love some grandchildren to play about my feet. I'm not getting any younger, you know, Alexander. And neither are you, so go upstairs and prepare yourself for this evening's ball so I may see my only son marry the woman he loves."

Alexander swallowed the emotion that rose within him at his mother's words. "Well, I shall attend the ball on one condition."

"Oh yes, and what is that?" his mother asked just as May delivered the tea and set it beside her.

"That you come with me and turn your nose up at society as well. Show the ton who the legitimate Lady Lacy is, and of course, then you'll be the first to know if my groveling toward Lady Charlotte was successful."

Her eyes alighted with mirth, and she laughed, sipping her tea. "Well, that is an invitation hard to deny, so I think I shall attend with you this evening, Alexander. We must start as we mean to go on."

"Are you saying I'll have to pretend to be noble from this day forward?"

His mother chuckled. "You were always noble, my dear. Now you merely have the title that goes with it."