Page 10 of Grave Expectations
"Do you remember that night I went to the ball?"
"Very clearly. You were in a foul temper when you returned." We'd argued, but not about anything in particular. He'd wanted to pick a fight, and I'd simply been there at the wrong time.
His gaze shifted to the white tablecloth. "I was drunk and angry after seeing him there."
"Your father?"
"I only know that my mother is a gypsy because of that pendant she gave me. Like you, I researched it and discovered the eye was a symbol the gypsy clans use to ward off curses."
"What pendant?" I said weakly.
His gaze narrowed. "I know you found it in my desk drawer, Charlie. I also know you read all about it in my books."
"You do? Why didn't you tell me you knew I'd seen it?"
"I hoped you would come to me of your own volition and ask me about it."
"Oh. Right." I cleared my throat. "I…I suppose I should have, but I didn't want to be chastised for it."
His silence drew my gaze up to his. He was watching me with unnerving intensity. "Was I that bad?" he murmured.
I reached for his hand and gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "That's in the past. Let's move forward."
His fingers clutched mine. "The point I'm trying to make is that I knew my mother was—is—a gypsy. I'd learned her name from my file in the ministry archives and learned that she still lives. The night of that ball, I had not seen my father in a long time, and never up close. When Julia told me he would be there, I couldn't help myself. I had to go. Not because I thought I'd get close enough to speak with him, but because I…" He shook his head. "I suppose I just wanted to see what he was like."
I remembered Lady Harcourt had manipulated Lincoln into going to the ball so that he could meet eligible young ladies. Knowing he hated balls, she'd needed another incentive to get him there. But I couldn't recall who she mentioned would be attending in particular.
"What I learned about my father that night is the reason I returned home angry. He knew my mother, his lover, was a gypsy. He must have known. And yet he disparaged them cruelly to his friends that night, all for a few laughs."
"What did he say?"
His eyes turned hard, cold, and not even stroking his hand chased the dark shadows away. "He said the women were all whores and the men their minders."
I winced. What a horrid thing to say, particularly since he must have cared for one of the women enough to bed her. Or…perhaps he hadn't cared for her at all. Perhaps he'd tricked her by pretending he had. Or perhaps he'd raped her.
I felt sick. "Oh, Lincoln. No wonder you were furious." His emotions must have been boiling over by the time he got home and he was too inexperienced to suppress them, and so he'd simply let them out.
"I'm sorry I wasn't able to confine my anger to him. I should never have made you suffer."
Our wine arrived and we let go of one another's hands and waited for the waiter to leave again.
"Our mothers had something in common," I told Lincoln. "Both got themselves into trouble with men who didn't love them." I sipped my wine and watched him over the rim of the glass. I was very aware that he had not yet told me his father's name. It couldn't have been a committee member if he needed to attend a ball to see him. "Who is he?" I asked, setting my glass down.
His fingers tightened around the wine stem. "Albert Edward Saxe-Coburg-Gotha."
"Bloody hell," I said a little too loudly. One of the ladies three tables away shot a flinty glare my way. I lowered my voice. "The Prince of Wales!"
He nodded.
"Are you sure?"
"It was listed on my file in the archive, and the prophecy states that the leader of the order would be the son of a king. He'll be king when his mother, the queen, dies."
"That's why your name is Fitzroy." It was so obvious now. I couldn't believe I hadn't put the pieces of the puzzle together before. "It means son of the king. Who named you?"
"The committee. Lincoln after Lincolnshire, the county where General Eastbrooke lived as a child, and Fitzroy for the reason you stated. When I saw his name on my file, I confronted the committee and they told me it was true. I was the son of the prince, but I wasn't to tell a soul."
"I suppose a scandal like that would undermine the monarchy."
