Page 89 of The Girl Out of Time
“I only saw him once, but I remember that time well. Once I got your mother to talk, she would not stop gushing about him.” Aunt smiled lovingly at him, tilting her head. “Come in, won’t you? You must be tired. I shall have a room and a bath ready immediately. And something to eat, yes? And you must meet Cass.”
She led him into the spacious, marble-floored foyer decorated with paintings and busts of mythological heroes. With his aunt’s warm reception, some of Theo’s nerves subsided. He’d have to face his uncle eventually, and he was certain Lord Wescott wouldn’t be as amicable; but for now, he relaxed.
“Cass is in the conservatory.” They crossed the drawing room, immaculate with its mahogany and cream furnishings, and entered another hallway opening into a room where the few settees had been almost overtaken by large potted plants. Sun shone through the many windows, falling onto the face of a young woman, her head bent to a book in her lap. She looked up as they approached, the family resemblance obvious in her caramel brown hair and ocean eyes.
She leaped to her feet, the book dropping onto the settee. “Leon?”
“Lady Cassiopeia,” he greeted.
“Please, there’s no need for such formalities.” She approached and took his hands between hers. “You may call me Cousin.”
“Feels a bit strange, given our situation.”
“Cass, then.” She smiled.
He returned the smile. “Cass.”
“Oh, look at you two.” Aunt brought her hands to her chest. “I’m so glad you can finally join our family, my boy. But all the preparations to bedone! As soon as the season starts, we must announce you as my husband’s heir—”
“Mama,” Cass said, “couldn’t we do it less flamboyantly?”
Theo was grateful for her intervention. He wouldn’t dare say it to his aunt, but he didn’t want to cause a ruckus.
“You know there’ll be no swaying your father,” Augusta said to Cass. “He has decided on the course of action, and we can only follow it like an obedient army follows its general.” She turned to Theo. “But don’t worry, dear. Cass and I will be by your side, and all will be well, you shall see.” She gave him another hug.
“Here you are. Finally,” an unforgiving male voice said from the direction of the hallway.
With the hug swiftly abandoned, Theo swiveled his gaze to the dark-haired man standing at the doorway. “Uncle.”
Lord Wescott said nothing else, only nudged his head. Aunt Augusta squeezed Theo’s hand and gave him a reassuring smile. Heart pounding from nerves, but also a surge of fear, Theo headed to his uncle, who turned his back and led him through the drawing room toward the stairs.
“You’re late,” Wescott said.
“I’m sorry, I—”
Wescott stopped on the steps so rapidly Theo nearly bumped into him. “You’re my heir. You’re going to be an earl one day. Earls do not apologize.” He turned his head to the side. “Try again.”
Theo swallowed. “I came when time allowed.”
Wescott harrumphed, but continued walking. As the darkness of the long hallway swallowed them, he finally stopped in front of a door. “I assume you were successful in your mission.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“Good.” He turned to him. “Now that’s done, let me make one thing clear. Your past life, and all the people in it, are to be forgotten. That includes whatever antics you got up to in Dorset. You are who I paid for you to become. Not a farmer boy, not a soldier, not a servant. You’ll forget all about your family, rowdy friends you went out drinking with, sweet village girls you told your woes to—”
Sky-blue eyes, smiling at him from a freckled face, flashed in Theo’s mind.
“Because nobody is to know who you are and where you come from,” Wescott continued. “And if I find out you’re still trying to fraternize with those people, they’ll be punished accordingly. Is that understood?”
Theo gritted his teeth. He wanted to say something back—for example, why did Wescott even tell him to stay in Dorset, if he was so worried about him making connections—but even with their short acquaintance, reason told him it was better to stay quiet. “Yes, Uncle.”
“Go clean yourself.” Wescott brushed past him. “You smell of horse.”
As he left, Theo pressed a clenched fist to his mouth. It was fine. He knew this was coming. Perhaps, in the back of his mind, he stayed in Dorset for longer not only because of Emmeline but also to delay his inevitable destiny.
But destiny wasn’t called such because it could be avoided. He could only do one thing with it.
Accept it.
