Page 38 of Sleepless in Saunton
Richard stood up and walked over to the window to stare out over the park. “I am more familiar with the art of seduction than with courtship, I am afraid. Perry could recite every rule, every nuance of courtship, but I … can merely give you a rough outline. Such as, two dances imply a sincere interest. A third is practically a public proposal. Hothouse flowers are an appropriate gift but not a piece of jewelry or something personal or expensive. I always thought I would gather the details when I actually found a young lady worth courting.”
“I thought you hunted for a wife for several Seasons?”
“Yes, but I never went past a single dance. None of the young misses captured my interest, so I only knew what was expected in broad strokes. Or defensive strokes, to never be caught alone with a young lady if one did not want to be hung by the parson’s noose … and to be careful about that dancing rule of two and three.”
Barclay huffed. “Even I know that.”
“I am mortified to reveal this to you of all men. I was so afraid of becoming like our father, I changed my entire life around when I realized how perilously close I was to following in his footsteps. Fortunately, my conscience is eased because the moment I learned of Ethan, I knew I would acknowledge him. After meeting my boy, I learned of your existence—it is incredible to me that my father did not marry your mother, or at least acknowledge you. He should have been proud to bestow his name on you or, minimally, to pledge his support of such a talented man.”
Straightening up, Barclay rose and joined his brother at the window. It mitigated his guilt to discover his brother had struggled with similar thoughts about their mutual parent. “You are a good man, Richard. And I must confess, hearing that you considered similarities between you and the late earl is a bit of relief. I have been doing the same since I was told he was my father, and it has worried me to notice possible elements of him in me.”
Richard turned his head from the window to frown at him. “You? You are a bastion of honor and integrity, who is still faithful to his wife two years after her death. What could you possibly have in common with our father?”
“I think anything on the subject of women leads one to recall the loins that fired our conception, does it not?”
The earl winced. “Well, that is a repugnant thought to consider. However, I feel compelled to tell you I have not noticed a single trait in you that reminds me of our father. He was the worst kind of hedonist. If you knew …” Richard shuddered. “There are no words to describe the hell that my younger brother lived in under his roof. Suffice it to say that when I see how you are with your mother and your daughter, I can assure you that you have not inherited even the tiniest fraction of character from the Earl of Satan. He was an irredeemable monster.”
Barclay remained quiet for several moments before making his admission. “I am constantly reminded since I arrived here that he seduced my mother when she was just seventeen years old somewhere in this house … or the grounds. It does not bear thinking.”
Richard leaned a hand against the window frame while they both gazed out the window. Barclay watched a group of gentlemen striding in the direction of the lake, all carrying fishing poles and hampers. On the horizon, he noticed two riders crossing a field and wondered if they were the Duke of Halmesbury and perhaps his duchess, the second rider being much smaller, but he could not quite see the clothing or if there was a sidesaddle. On the other hand, given the size of the duke, even a fully grown gentleman might look small in contrast.
“I wish I could do more for your mother. Sophia and the duchess have pledged to introduce Aurora to the very best of society—the worthwhile best, that is. Not the judgmental biddies beneath our notice.”
“I appreciate that … brother.”
The earl’s head came up at that, his face expressing his delight. “Brother?”
Barclay nodded. “Just assure me your door will remain open in case I decide to blunder through a courtship during my stay in your home?”
“You have my support always. You are my blood, Barclay.”
Barclay hoped that the earl’s sentiment extended to a potential courtship of Jane. Richard was protective of his family, and the young woman was his sister-in-law.
Bloody hell! Did you need to think of a further complication?
How had he failed to realize he was thinking of courting Perry’s sister-in-law? Emma Davis’s recent marriage to his new brother made the impediments even worse. Barclay wanted to hang his head in dismay. Instead, he continued to stare out the window while attempting to regain his composure before his brother noticed anything amiss.
This was an impossible situation. He could only be grateful that Richard had not pressed him for the identities of the women he was considering. How would he ever reveal to his new brother that Jane was the object of his desire if he pursued her?
Leaving his brother in the study a few minutes later, Barclay realized he had not yet seen his mother. If he were to consider this courtship of Jane, he would need to discuss it with Aurora first. She was usually participating in lively discussions with their hostess by this time in the morning, but he had yet to glimpse her among the guests wandering the manor.
Setting off to look for her, he soon confirmed she was nowhere to be found in the main house and the library was vacant.
Walking back to the family wing, his professional eye gauged the architectural details in appreciation of Tsar’s work, while he searched through the public rooms.
He headed down the corridor of arching windows where Tatiana had come to find him the other night during the fog. It was a well-lit space offering grand views of the park, and he once more admired how Tsar had incorporated the endless views into the very design of the grand home.
However, he was quickly distracted when he reached the family wing and approached Aurora’s door. It was ajar and from inside he could hear a woman weeping. Striding forward, he pushed the door open to confirm it was his mother who sat in a plump armchair by the window. But she did not overlook the view. Instead, her face was buried in the crook of her elbow, which was propped on the ledge, while her shoulders shuddered with the force of her emotion.
Barclay’s heart almost stopped in his chest to see his mother in this state. Quickly, he entered her bedroom and shut the door behind him.
Aurora was always calm and even-tempered. She had taken many knocks in her life, and there was little that could penetrate her fortitude. Decades of barbs and slights, even outright insults, had caused her to master the art of quiet dignity in the face of adversity. Barclay’s alarm to see his mother sobbing alone in her bedroom had no bounds.
“Mother?” He approached her carefully, taking the seat next to her and reaching over to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. “What is it? What has happened? Is it Tsar?”
Her voice was muffled. “No! It is not anything of import. Please leave me and do not be distressed by my ridiculous behavior.”
“Mother, I cannot. Please, tell me what has happened?”
