Page 26 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
He refused to feel guilty now. ‘Alethea is ready to marry. I am not. I asked her to wait another year. She told me she may or may not wait. But she is to come to town for the season where she will consider my request, and other men.’
His father laughed, then smiled and shook his head. ‘She is a good woman for you, Henry. It is not that we wish to force you, it is just she is?—’
‘Eminently suitable and conveniently close. I know. And charming, sweet and pretty?—’
‘That was not what I was saying.’
Henry sipped his brandy.
‘If she is not your choice, Henry, she is not. It is only?—’
‘It would be such a perfect union, to join our families, when Uncle Casper has no son, and his land, on the border of ours, would pass to Alethea. I know.’
His father smiled again. ‘As you say, for all those reasons, and yet I do not wish either of you unhappy.’ His father took a sip of his brandy.
‘We shall suit. We do. It is merely that I do not wish to marry anyone yet. You did not marry Mama until you were much older, you cannot expect me to hurry into the shackles.’
‘You should not think of marriage as shackles if you wish to marry. I was desperate for your mother to marry me when I was younger than you. It did not happen and then I was even more desperate for her to accept me when I met her again.’ He gave Henry another direct, enquiring look, which could have been either anger or humour. ‘What do you feel for Alethea?’
Bloody hell.‘That is the question I asked her outside, what does she feel for me?’
‘What did she say?’
‘She did not answer.’
‘As you have not answered me.’
‘I will answer you. I care for Alethea. I am attracted to her. I am not sure if that is what you would define as love.’
His father sighed. ‘If it was love you would know.’ He looked down at his glass.
Henry drank the rest of his brandy, then put his empty glass on a table. ‘I do not believe it is love. But we ramble along well together, you know we do, and I think she feels as much for me as I feel for her. Perhaps while she is in town it will become love. You should not give up on your dream yet, but it shall not be fulfilled this year.’
His father drank the last of his brandy. Then picked up Henry’s empty glass. ‘Would you like another, and a game of backgammon, as I am unlikely to have your company for much longer?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Henry turned and went over to the table to set up the game.
‘It has been nice to have you home, and a novelty to have you at home and not to be angered by you on a daily basis,’ his father said as he poured the brandy. ‘When do you take off the sling?’
He told his father.
‘And then… When will you leave?’
‘I will accompany you, Mama and Sarah to the assembly in York. I know that will please Sarah. Then return to town.’
‘To sow more oats in furrows I disapprove of.’
‘You can hardly judge. I am constantly hearing about your former reputation, even though I would rather not know it.’
‘I did not entertain myself in brothels and consort with whores.’
‘No, you entertained yourself in bedchambers, and consorted with adulteresses and cuckolded a couple of hundred men in society. I think that is worse.’ Henry placed the counters on the board with his good hand. Then looked at his father.
His father’s eyebrows lifted again.
Henry laughed. ‘They are not facts I wish to know about my father, but in town they are facts everyone wishes to tell me.’
His father set their refilled glasses down on the table beside the board. ‘You know if Alethea discovered how you live… or even if Casper, or, God forbid, Julie?—’
