Page 7 of The Penitent Duke
“I am not,” he grated, as the footman caught his eye and then nodded. “I have attended my cousin’s soiree and that is all I have done. I have no intention of returning to society again.”
Lord Radcliffe’s lips quirked. “And yet, are you not about to attend your cousin’s engagementball?”
Lucian gritted his teeth, irritated by his friend’s remarks even though he knew he spoke the truth. Lord and Lady Helensburgh – his uncle and aunt – had been delighted to see him in London. Lucian had only intended to call upon them once and then join them at the wedding ceremony but instead, had found himself welcomed into their house at the very time of the betrothal soiree. Of course, he had tried to excuse himself but his aunt and uncle had been quite determined for him to stay and the pressure they had brought to bear had meant that he had not been able to leave as he had wanted. That had been a weakness in him and Lucian had been more than a little irritated by it, for he had given in to their desires and wishes rather than following his own. Lord Radcliffe had been present also and had expressed not only surprise but delight upon seeing Lucian there, though Lucian had not himself expressed any joy.
“I understand that you did not expect nor want to be present at the soiree but your cousin was quite delighted with your presence,” his friend continued, as though he had been able to see what was in Lucian’s mind. “Surely you cannot refuse to attend the betrothal ball now?”
“I want to refuse,” Lucian replied, sharply. “I am here to attend the wedding, that is all.”
“But all the same, it is not about your own desires but the happiness that your presence will bring to Lady Anna, is it not?”
Closing his eyes, Lucian let the thread of anger in his chest stitch through his heart before he replied. “You are just as they are, Radcliffe, and I do not appreciate it.”
“They?”
“My aunt and uncle,” Lucian continued, quickly. “They practically forced me to remain despite my own desire to quit the house. When I wrote to ask if I might call on them that evening, they did not tell me that the soiree was happening at the very same time! That was deceitful of them and brought me a great deal of upset.”
“Or,” his friend answered, quietly, “might it not be that they were simply eager for you to attend regardless?” He let out a sigh as Lucian shook his head. “I am sorry that you think so poorly of those around you, my friend. It seems wrong to suggest that your uncle and aunt are such people so you will not find me speaking such harsh words, I am afraid.”
Shrugging, Lucian ignored the dart of guilt which plunged into him.
“I know that it must have been rather trying to have so many glancing at you as they did,” Lord Radcliffe continued, despite the fact that Lucian scowled immediately and threw him a sharp look. “I have heard the whispers.”
Lucian let out a slow breath, his shoulders dropping. “Indeed, I have heard them also,” he admitted, a little heavily, choosing now to let go of some of the anger he felt in thinking about all that had taken place. “That is why you find me here for even the servants at my townhouse are whispering such rumours, I am sure of it!”
A look of sympathy crossed Lord Radcliffe’s expression but Lucian ignored it.
“Thetonwill simply have to accept that I am not about to be as they want me to be,” he continued, with a small shrug. “They desire for the Duke of Strathmore to be pleasant in both demeanour and conversation but they will find me greatly altered from the gentleman I was once. I have no desire for anyone’s company, no interest in sharing anyone’s joy or delight. Rather, I will be present for a short time in London, pursuing solely my own interests and attending what Imustand, thereafter, returning home to solitude and quiet.” He spoke with fervency while, at the same time, feeling a deadening weight beginning to press over his soul. He wanted to push it aside, wanted to tell himself that he felt nothing aside from contentment at such a thought but instead, there came only a sense of dread. It was as though, in stating such things to Lord Radcliffe, his heart was trying to tell him the truth about what he really felt about his present circumstances – but Lucian was determined not to listen.
“I do not believe you.”
Lucian scowled and looked away.
“Besides which, you must marry at some point, yes?”
“Marry?” Surprise jolted through Lucian as his friend nodded, looking a little confused as to why Lucian had responded in such a way. “Why ever should I do that?”
“Because you are a titled gentleman,” his friend answered, speaking slowly as though he wanted to make sure that all was explained to him carefully. “It is your responsibility.”
Shaking his head, Lucian took the glass of brandy from the footman and, in one gulp, threw the measure back before ordering another. The thought of marrying, the thought of even engaging himself to another, was so unsettling, it was as though a chill had wrapped around him tightly, making him shiver.
“I know that you feel a good deal of guilt as regards Lady Pearl,” Lord Radcliffe said, gently, “but that should not prevent you from doing your duty.”
“Duty?” Lucian spat, his gaze still away from his friend. “My duty will be to pass on the title to whoever is next in line.”
Silence told him of Lord Radcliffe’s astonishment but Lucian did not care. In these last few years, he had determined that he had no desire to marry again and, even if he did, he would deny himself the pleasure of a bride’s company in his life as a consequence of what he had done. It was a self-inflicted punishment, Lucian knew, but he wanted to feel the pain, the sting of loneliness over and over again in the hope that somehow, in some way, he might lessen the constant weight of guilt in his heart.
“My friend, you cannot.”
“I can and I have no interest in hearing –”
“Have you forgotten who is next to take the title, if you do not produce the heir?”
The question stopped Lucian dead, a heavy frown pulling at his forehead as he tried to recall who it was that would soon take on the title. Try as he might, he could not remember the name and after a few more moments, glanced to Lord Radcliffe. “I am afraid I do not.”
A darkness pulled into Lord Radcliffe’s expression. “You tell me that you are determined to remain unwed, to pass the title to the next in line while, at the very same time, having no thought as to who that is?” he asked, as a sweeping sense of shame crashed into Lucian’s chest. “I recall it, for I remember your father speaking to me about him, telling me how grateful he was to God for giving him a son and heir.”
Lucian swallowed tightly, searching his mind, desperate for even the smallest hint of recollection but his thoughts were too many, his mind feeling thick and sluggish.
