Page 71 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
“We are indebted to you, my lord.”
Lord Longfellow didn’t reply but stood there, dumbstruck.
“You have been most kind to us over the years, and the reason for it, I do not know.” Alexander stood again, a clear desperation to speak now plain in his expression. “Once I could read, I read the messages that accompanied the money coming to my mother. Every inquiry I ever made into your identity or whereyou lived never came to fruition, so I have felt lost these last few years, unable to thank you properly.”
He straightened his clothes and flattened his hair, clearly eager to impress. “The money you have given us has been more of a lifesaver than you can possibly imagine.”
“It has?” Lord Longfellow asked, a smile spreading across his lips.
“You kept us able to buy food when we were in our worst state, and your money paid for me to go to a good school. I have an income, my lord, a good position, and I would not have any of this without your kindness.” Alexander bowed once again. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
Lord Longfellow and William exchanged startled looks, but now, William could not shed his own smile. Despite the similarity in appearance, one thing was very plain to him.
George Dorset would never have thanked another man in such a way. Alexander was proving now just how unlike his father he was.
“I am comforted indeed that the money has helped you.” Lord Longfellow urged Alexander to stand straight, then he took the young man’s hand and shook it. Alexander looked shocked and amazed at such a familiar touch. “Come, take tea with us. There is much we need to talk to you about, much you need to know.”He drew Alexander toward the tea table, and William followed behind them. “Let me introduce you both to us all here.”
Lord Longfellow started with Becca. “This is Miss Thornton, a writer and a highly skilled one at that.” Becca blushed and curtsied to them both. William’s smile grew a little wider as he watched. “This is Mr. Henry Fitzwilliam, a butler and fine friend to us all.”
Henry bowed deeply.
“Lastly, this is my son.” Lord Longfellow’s introduction in this way made William flinch in surprise. It was the first time he’d been introduced as the earl’s son. He took William’s shoulder and pulled him closer to the table. “He is my son outside of wedlock and is otherwise known as Baron Lancaster.”
At these words, the teacup dropped out of Miss Brackley’s hand. It shattered on the floor as her eyes stared wildly at William. It was rather like the expression of a deer caught at the end of a gun.
“Mother!” Alexander hastily tried to pick up the pieces from the cup, but both Henry and Becca had got there first.
“I…You…” Miss Brackley was lost for words. “Baron Lancaster?” she whispered and moved toward him, walking around the broken pieces of the cup. “No. No, Baron Lancaster is George Dorset’s son.”
“I don’t want to hear that man’s name,” Alexander said suddenly.
William looked wildly between the two of them. There was clearly tension here and as much confusion as he had been suffering. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his father nodding at him, encouraging him to take control.
“My apologies, Mr. Brackley, but you will have to hear that man’s name for a few minutes as I have much to tell you of him,” William began. Miss Brackley now stopped in front of him, shaking her head and making her dark hair dance about her face. “Miss Brackley, I am seen by society as George Dorset’s son. However, that is not the case. My mother and the Earl of Longfellow here had a relationship. I am not Dorset’s blood, but his.”
Miss Brackley raised a hand over her face, trembling, her eyes now filling with tears.
“What do you know of George Dorset?” William addressed this question to Alexander, as Lord Longfellow took Miss Brackley’s arm and urged her to sit in a chair.
“Only that he was a rogue who married my mother, got her with child, then ran off. I know nothing more of him.” Alexander shrugged. “I have little wish to know anything of him.”
“Forgive me, you must hear something now.” William walked toward him. “When George Dorset left your mother, he married my mother. He married the daughter of the late Baron Lancaster, Anne.”
Alexander blinked. There was a second’s silence before he shook his head.
“Pfft, that I do not believe. He was a stable boy. My mother said as much. Besides, they were still married…” He trailed off as he turned to face his mother. “Why are you not denying this?” Her expression said it all. She hid her face in her hands, but Lord Longfellow produced a handkerchief and urged her to dry her tears with that instead.
“Please, sit yourself,” William steered Alexander to sit in a chair at the tea table. “There is much I have to tell you.”
***
Becca drank what felt like three cups of tea as they retold the tale of George Dorset to his son. Alexander Brackley plainly wished to deny the story at more than one point, but in the end, it could not be denied. His mother’s tears were the proof of it all.
When William had finished describing how George Dorset had gone off to charm Anne and her father, marrying into the money, then using that money to defraud many men, all had fallen quiet.
“What a mess,” Alexander said eventually. The simple words made William smile a little. The two men exchanged such a smile, before it faded fast. “So, you are Baron Lancaster? But you are not George Dorset’s son?”
“No.” William shook his head in emphasis. “It means that you…you are his heir, Alexander. By birthright and marriage, you should be inheriting the fortune that was afforded to him on my mother’s death.”
