His eyes unconsciously came back into focus, settling on his reflection in the window. He shuddered as he saw the terrible scarring on the right side of his face in the glass. He had been forced to see the scars every single day for three long years. And yet, he never became accustomed to them. Those scars had been the reason why Cordelia left him, why the ton started whispering about and avoiding him, and why any of his potential business partners suddenly withdrew their offers and investments. He went from prominent to pariah overnight. Such was the loyalty of the ton. Including his own former lover.
Is Father not concerned about stirring the old, nasty rumours?He wondered as the coach bounced along. He knew the answer, of course. His parents loved him, no matter how scarred his face was. Even his father, while he hadn’t coddled his son, had been very sympathetic about his son’s permanent plight. So why would he drag Albert back to London, where people would do nothing but say more terrible things about him? What could be so important that his father couldn’t journey to Billington Estate to discuss it?
He turned his face away, too stressed and disgusted with his reflection to keep staring at the scars. He was not prepared for the leers and the whispers, and he certainly wasn’t ready for the false sympathy shown to his face but discarded and mocked behind his back. He was aware that the ton saw him as a monster, even though he had earned his scars by trying to save the life of the woman who clearly didn’t love him unconditionally.
Even the people who knew exactly what happened saw the scars and judged him. Or, at least, they wanted to avoid him, so as to not find themselves in the scandal sheets and in the juiciest gossip of the ton for interacting with the hideous beast of Billington. The few people who didn’t mock or berate him simply looked away, clearly pitying him, but too afraid to speak a kind word to him. And he loathed to subject himself to all of it yet again.
By the time he reached Balmere Manor, Albert felt bitter from exhaustion and irritability. He could never find a pleasant mood when he found himself thinking about his life since his scars. He did well pushing down those thoughts so they couldn’t plague him, apart from in his dreams, while he resided in the country. Now that he was back in London, however, he could think of nothing else.
Balmere Manor looked every bit as warm and inviting as it always had. Its red brick construct, framed with the greenest shrubs and holly bushes shaped like animals gave it a majestically welcoming countenance. The rooms at the front of the manor all had curtains of the same shade of beige, and they were barely visible from their open positions in each of the windows. The front door was the same shade of white as the mortar that held the bricks of the manor together, and it was decorated with a fresh halo of bright pink flowers. Albert had no doubt that was his mother’s doing.
He exited the carriage, barking orders to the footmen to see to his luggage. He dragged himself up to the front door of the mansion and pulled the silver door knocker. He wasn’t surprised when the butler pulled open the door before the knocker came to rest against the door again as he pulled his hand away.
What did surprise him, however, was that the butler barely got the chance to welcome him inside. The countess was rushing up the hallway just as Albert followed the butler inside the manor, and she was smiling fondly at her son.
“Albert, my darling,” she said, running into his arms and squeezing him tightly. “It is wonderful to have you home.”
Albert felt a little of his previous irritation fade away as he looked into his mother’s dark hazel eyes.
“Hello, Mother,” he said, returning her embrace. “I cannot say the same. But I am very happy to see you.”
His mother nodded, glancing sympathetically at the right side of his face. She didn’t touch it, nor did she say anything about it. Instead, she put her hand around his arm, which he then properly offered to her, and began leading him toward the grand hall of the manor.
“I would love to visit with you all afternoon,” his mother gushed, clinging gently to his arm. “But I know you must be exhausted after your long trip. You are welcome to rest in your chambers until dinner, if you like.”
Albert nodded, glancing around the manor.
“Did Father not wish to meet with me when I first arrived?” he asked.
His mother shook her head.
“He’s gone to the House of Lords,” she said. “He will be back for dinner.”
Albert nodded, unable to hide his relief. He was drained from the trip, and he wasn’t ready to discuss his father’s important matters.
“In that case, I might take you up on that offer, if you’re sure you don’t mind,” he said, giving his mother a tired smile.
The countess nodded, kissing her son’s cheek.
“I understand, my darling,” she said, rubbing his back gently. “We can catch up later this evening. You go relax and freshen up. I’m just glad that you’re back home.”
Albert nodded, embracing his mother briefly before dragging himself up the stairs. His valet was with the other servants, bringing in his luggage. He decided to wash his face and unfasten his jacket and shirt while he waited for the valet to finish. He avoided the scarred side of his face as he examined his reflection. He did look pale, and very tired. It was no wonder his mother urged him to rest before his father returned.
Daniel, the valet, met him in his chambers about ten minutes later. Albert was more than happy for the man to help him out of his traveling clothes, and into a dressing gown. Albert knew he would need to dress for dinner. But he didn’t feel like going through that preparation right then. He intended to just rest, as his mother had suggested. It turned out that not dressing right away was the right decision, because as soon as he sat back on his bed after the valet left, he was sound asleep.
His sleep was far from sound, however. It was plagued with nightmares of the night his face was scarred. When he awoke, the sunlight coming in through the windows was fading, but he was sweating as though he was sleeping right on top of the sun. He covered his face and took a deep breath. Would that night, and the preceding fortnight, ever cease to haunt him?
A few hours later, Albert was bathed, dressed in a formal, hunter green jacket with a white undershirt and white breeches, and ready to join his parents for dinner. He made a point of scrubbing his face extra hard with the cloth, to give it a bit more color than he had when he first arrived home. When he joined his parents in the main dining hall and saw the relieved smile on his mother’s face, he knew it had been a successful endeavor.
“Good evening, darling,” she gushed, leaving her seat to kiss his cheek and lead him to his chair beside her. “You look like you feel considerably better.”
Albert nodded.
“I do,” he lied. “And I’m famished.”
The earl grinned at his son. He didn’t rise to greet his son, but he reached for his wine glass and gestured for Albert to do the same.
“It’s good to see you again, son,” he said, raising his glass. “It will be wonderful to have you home.”
