Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

“ A ren’t you coming down to dinner?” Seth’s mother asked him.

Seth sat in his library, holding a book in his hands. He had intended to read it, but he hadn’t been able to focus on the words—they seemed to slip away every time he looked at the page, and all he could think about was Lady Lavinia.

The way she’d felt in his arms. The way it had felt to let go of his inhibitions and kiss her, as he truly wanted to. And then, the distance in her voice when she had insisted to her brother that she didn’t want to marry Seth, that she was determined to marry Lord Hennington.

Had it all been a game? Had she ever really been interested in him?

No, she wasn’t devious like that. She didn’t have that in her. What she had said to him had undoubtedly been the truth.

But then why had she reversed her position when her brother had threatened to force a marriage?

“Seth, I’m speaking to you,” his mother said.

“Leave me alone,” he told her. “Leave me in peace. Don’t you think I would have come to dinner without being prompted if I intended to be there?”

“You’re going to make me eat alone? I wanted to talk to you.”

“Perhaps I ought to hire you a companion so that you’ll have someone to talk to. Maybe that would get you to stop plaguing me.”

“Seth!”

“Mother, please. I indulge quite a lot from you. I insist that you leave me to my thoughts.”

“I know there’s something the matter with you,” she insisted. “You haven’t been yourself since we returned home from that party. Slouching around the house, looking as though you’re a million miles away. It’s—well, it’s highly improper!”

“Improper.” Seth rose to his feet. “That’s all you care about, isn’t it? Propriety. What if I were to tell you that I didn’t care for propriety at all? What if I told you I was tired of the very sound of the word?”

“Seth, I don’t know what’s come over you. You’re not acting like yourself at all.”

“I’m acting exactly like myself. Perhaps you’ve never seen me as I truly am, but the fault for that lies with you, Mother, not with me.” He held up a hand.

“Don’t try to argue with me. I know what you see when you look at me. The perfect heir to the dukedom. Someone who will marry an upstanding young lady and produce a son. That’s why you’re so vexed by the fact that it hasn’t happened yet. Every day that I don’t marry is one more day you have to look at me and wonder why I’m not the man you imagine me to be.”

“I know who you are. You’re my son,” she protested.

“You don’t know me at all. If you did, you wouldn’t have to continuously ask me the questions you do because the answers would be obvious to you. If you knew me, you would know why I haven’t married, and why I don’t intend to. You wouldn’t think you could change my mind about it by continually asking me the same questions—you would understand that it isn’t going to happen.

“I’m tired of it, Mother. I really am. I’ve been indulgent with you about these conversations, but it stops now.”

“Just come to dinner,” she insisted. “Come to dinner and we’ll do anything you like. Talk about anything you like. It doesn’t have to be marriage, not if you don’t want it to be.”

But Seth didn’t trust her to keep to her word. They had simply been through this too many times now for him to have any faith that she would stay out of his affairs.

He thought he finally understood why she was the way she was. It was simply that she was unable to see him as anything other than the son she wished she had. She was unable to see what he really was, what he really wanted out of his life, and until she did, she would never accept his choice not to marry.

The trouble was that he needed her to accept that, now more than ever before. It had been easy, even a month ago, to tell her that he simply didn’t want to marry, and to know that it was true.

He no longer knew that it was true. That was the problem.

He should never have given Lady Lavinia that last kiss. He had hoped that it would serve to allow them both to forget about what they had shared, give them the closure they needed to put it behind them, but instead it felt as if it had only strengthened the feelings Seth had for her. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“I’m not coming to dinner,” he told his mother. “I have things to do. I’ll be in my study.”

“Seth, you can’t hide from me forever.”

“No one is hiding from you, Mother. Not everything is about you.” It was the truth. He was hiding from the necessity to confront his feelings about Lady Lavinia.

If only the house party could have gone on forever. If only he hadn’t been forced to choose between either marriage or letting her go altogether. He could have gone on forever meeting her in secret at night, dancing with her when no one was watching, pretending during the day that there was nothing between the two of them. But that was not the way the world worked.

His valet was waiting for him up in his study. “Will you bring my dinner up here for me, Wallace?” Seth asked.

Wallace nodded. “Of course, Your Grace.”

“And a bottle of sherry as well, I think.”

Wallace nodded. “Your Grace, if you don’t mind—I wonder if there’s something I might assist you with.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Seth said.

“You’ve seemed distressed since returning home from Harbeck Manor. I know your mother is worried about you.”

“Please tell me that she didn’t instruct you to ask me these questions.”

“She did, actually,” Wallace nodded. “But that’s not why I’m doing it, Your Grace. I think you know that my priority is to answer to you, not to your mother. I’m asking you because I thought it might be helpful for you to discuss it—nothing more.”

Seth sighed. The truth was that Wallace might have been the only person he would have felt safe to discuss this with at all, and he knew that if he didn’t get his thoughts out, he might soon be driven mad by them. “I’m beginning to doubt myself, Wallace,” he said.

“What do you mean, Your Grace?”

“I’ve always been so sure that marriage was the wrong path for me, and now I feel as if I no longer know,” he confessed. “I find myself wondering if perhaps I’ve always been too stubborn about it.”

“I never thought I would hear you say that,” Wallace said. “You’ve always been quite certain about the fact that you didn’t wish to marry.”

“I know. It’s thanks to the example my mother and father set for me that I didn’t feel I could face the idea. I thought all marriages must surely be unhappy ones. Now I don’t know anymore.

“My parents were unhappy, it’s true, but I’m beginning to think that it isn’t always the way. They never loved each other. I know that. What if they had? What if they had each been free to marry someone they loved instead of feeling stuck with one another? What might have been different for them—for all of us?”

“I don’t know,” Wallace admitted. “I do know that your parents were unhappy, Your Grace. The whole household could see that.”

“But you’re married,” Seth said.

“I am,” Wallace agreed cautiously.

“Will you answer a personal question if I ask?”

“Your Grace, you don’t need permission to ask me anything.”

“Still, I don’t want to be invasive.”

“I’ll answer any question you ask me,” Wallace said. “I’m sure you know that by now.”

Seth nodded. “Is your marriage a happy one?”

“Very happy, Your Grace.”

“You love your wife?”

“More than anything.”

“Have you ever regretted marrying?”

“Never.”

“You say that so readily. As if you don’t even have to think about it.”

“I don’t,” Wallace said. “My wife is the best thing in my life, and she’s brought me no end of happiness. I would do anything for her. I’m so grateful to have her. She means the world to me.”

“And yet, I suppose it is different for a servant,” Seth said. “You were never pressured to marry to produce an heir.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Wallace agreed. “You’re correct, Your Grace—it is different. And yet, in many ways I’m sure it’s the same. You and I have different roles to fulfill in society, but we are both men, both capable of being charmed and falling in love with women.

“If someone has caught your eye, I would say that’s only to be expected. Perhaps you’ve been so worried about the idea of resisting the path that was laid out for you that you can’t give in to what your heart truly desires now, even though it’s what you’d choose if you were being honest with yourself.”

“Do you think so?” Seth looked up at his valet.

“I couldn’t say, Your Grace. Only you can answer that for sure.”

“Wallace, sometimes I believe you know me better than anyone.”

“It’s my job to know you well,” Wallace said. “But the truth is, you know yourself better than anybody else. You know what you feel. You know what’s right for you. So if what I’m saying right now sounds true, I suggest you listen to your heart.”

Seth sighed. “You make it sound very easy.”

“On the contrary. Love isn’t easy. But it’s the most rewarding thing I’ve found in this life. I hope you find the clarity you need to do what’s right for you. The worst fate I can imagine is failing to take hold of true love when it’s right in front of you. If you’ve found someone who makes you feel something, Your Grace, I think you have to act.”

“Thank you,” Seth said.

“I hope I haven’t overstepped.”

“You haven’t,” Seth assured him. “I asked. And I want you to feel free to speak openly to me when I ask you questions, Wallace. I have enough people on my staff who will tell me what they believe I want to hear. From you, I count on hearing the truth.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Would you like me to go and get your dinner now?”

“Please. And tell the dowager duchess, if she asks after me, that I won’t be coming down.”

Wallace nodded. “If she presses the matter?”

“I’ll join her for breakfast tomorrow. I need tonight to sort through my thoughts, and she’ll simply have to accept that.”

“Of course.” Wallace bowed and retreated from the room.

Seth sighed as the door closed. Every time he believed he had made a decision about this, things seemed to change. His mind wouldn’t rest.

What if he was only resisting his feelings about Lady Lavinia because of the example his parents had set—and what if that wasn’t a good enough reason?

Was Wallace right? Was he about to throw away something wonderful because he couldn’t overcome his fears about the past?

He hated to think it, and yet it was hard to dismiss the idea. Allan had said more or less the same thing, and every time he thought of Lady Lavinia, it was with a longing that had become difficult to ignore.

I do love her . It was the first time he had permitted himself to think the words. I love her .

But even if he did—how could he possibly hope to overcome the past?