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Inside, he closed the door as Robson turned to face him.
“I received a note from Lord Castlereagh before we left the hotel,” the American said. “I sincerely thank you for your efforts, fruitless though they were.” He shook his head and sighed. “Life is a damnable thing sometimes.”
Though Lex agreed, he couldn’t dismiss his own culpability. “I apologize for Mr. Drummond’s action and accept that he wouldn’t have been set on such a course if not for our personal clash.” If only Drummond would send word...
Robson lifted a silver eyebrow. “It does seem as if the two of you have much to work out. Yet I cannot fault you for the action of another.” He lifted a shoulder. “You and I have accomplished most of what we set out to do at the arsenal, and I’ve left behind some rather comprehensive notes. I believe Mr. Collett will transition quite well to the position of superintendent. You needn’t fear my abrupt parting will derail the success you’ve worked to accomplish.”
Lex didn’t give a tinker’s damn about the arsenal anymore. He’d moaned to Eleanor that he couldn’t carry on his work there without Robson, but that wasn’t the crux of the matter and he could admit it, especially now since his need to destroy Drummond had diminished. He valued Elliot Robson’s friendship. He had learned much from the older man’s sage advice and pragmatic viewpoint and had come to care for him.
He opened his mouth but nothing would come. No polite words of farewell that would mask his emotional upheaval. No fond words that would solidify their friendship. No rude words that would earn Robson’s enmity and lessen the sting of his departure. So Lex just stood there blinking furiously.
Robson strode toward him and threw his arms around Lex’s shoulders in a hearty embrace. “So much for thinking myself above politics and loyalty. I will not underestimate their power again. Do not worry overmuch, though. I have friends and I will not go quietly should my government try to prosecute me. For now, lad, I believe we should confine our farewell to four words. ‘Until we meet again.’”
He withdrew and clapped Lex on the shoulder twice before turning to leave.
Lex closed his eyes. Just as the door clicked open, he finally managed to rasp out the words in reply. “Until we meet again.”
The door closed just as softly as it had opened.
Lex scrubbed at his face. Then he turned and smashed his fist down on the desk.
A soft tap came at the door, then Eleanor’s voice. “Octavius? The Robsons must be going and Justine would like to say... She’d like to speak with you.”
Lex leaned over the desk, trying to find that elusive equilibrium others seemed to possess. After a minute of steady breathing, he thought he might be close, so he finally dragged himself outside.
Arm in arm, he and Eleanor walked down to the entrance hall where Portia and all the Robsons were saying goodbye.
“I wish you would come with us, my son,” Mrs. Robson pleaded as she clung to Andrew, unabashed tears coursing down her cheeks.
He clasped her by the shoulders so he could look into her eyes. “I too regret the shortness of our reunion, dear Mother. However, I cannot possibly leave when I haven’t finished my course of studies.”
Elliot Robson rolled his eyes. “It might be helpful to remain nearer to Edinburgh if you wish to give any appearance of attending St. Andrew’s.”
“I’ll miss you too, Father,” Andrew said with a laugh, embracing him and then planting a loud kiss on his mother’s cheek. When he stepped aside, Mrs. Robson approached Lex.
She smiled through her tears and dropped into a perfect curtsy. “For once, I’m going to try to remain decorous. Thank you, my lord, for your hospitality and—”
Lex pulled her into a fierce hug, cutting her off. He didn’t—couldn’t—say anything, but he knew that wouldn’t bother her.
She squeezed him in return and said in a loud whisper, “Do bring my gallivanting son with you when you come to America, all right?”
He nodded against her shoulder and caught the steady blue gaze of Mr. Robson. “Until we meet again, Mrs. Robson.”
After he let her go, she reached for Eleanor one last time. Then the Robsons were gone in a flurry of waves and farewells.
The footman closed the door, and Lex wanted nothing more than to escape upstairs with Eleanor. However, the sounds of a ball in full swing— carrying laughter, music strumming, feet dancing—bombarded him before he could even reach for her hand. God knew how much longer their guests would stay.
Portia, who’d been unusually quiet ever since Lex appeared, slipped past him and headed for the stairs. Noting that Eleanor and Andrew were in conversation, he went after her and caught up to her at the top.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Portia?”
She turned back with a genuinely delighted smile. “Oh yes! It’s been splendid. Thank you, Lex.”
At least he didn’t have to worry about his sister’s state of mind this evening. “I’m glad. If you wish, my offer of a dance still stands.”
“On that, I will take pity on you and refuse. I saw you dancing with Mrs. Robson, and if I had to guess I’d say dancing is not a favorite activity of yours and you are only trying to be polite. I appreciate it, though.”
“Thank you, Portia. You’re absolutely correct.” He waved a hand over her. “Besides, as pretty as you look tonight, I doubt you are wanting for dance partners.”
She giggled. “I’m not. Eleanor was right about that.”
“She generally is.”
Ahead, not one but two eager young bucks were staring giddily in his sister’s direction. Lex gave them both a slight nod, and within seconds Portia was laughing gaily and trying to decide who to dance with first.
As for Lex, he needed two things: Eleanor and cake. In that order.
He found her, fortuitously, by the refreshment table. Grabbing a bite-sized piece of spice cake, he muttered to her, “Will this night never end?”
“I know it has not been easy, but it’s also not been as disastrous as it could have been.” She reached up and brushed a crumb from his lip. “In fact, some might say this ball is rather dull. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone decides to leave soon.”
Lex snorted. “I doubt it. They will linger, waiting for something scandalous to happen.”
Eleanor fluttered her lashes. “We could give them something to talk about.”
Even though she was jesting, a shot of desire coursed through him. He took her gloved hand and pulled her close. “As little as I care for our guests’ opinion, I am very tempted to call you on that dare. Except,” he sighed, “for the small matter of Portia. I promised.”
“You are exceeding beyond all measure on that promise, which is why—”
A commotion near the doorway distracted them and all those guests who weren’t dancing. Bickley came rushing in, and he turned immediately as if to block the door. Oddly, his chest heaved as if he were out of breath.
“Oh yes,” a high feminine voice trilled from the corridor, “please do announce me, Bickley. It is my due, after all.”
The butler didn’t move a muscle. Lex’s veins iced over at the sound of that voice. Stricken into immobility, he could only watch in horror as the woman rudely pushed her way past his servant. And by now, the dancers had stumbled to a halt and all eyes were upon her.
“I can see this household needs better management.” She threw her arms open wide. “Very well. I shall announce myself. Lady Lexden is here, my darlings! Terribly sorry I’m late. I suppose that makes me fashionable, doesn’t it?” Then she laughed, an ugly sound that clawed at Lex’s ears.
“Oh no.” That was Eleanor. He could feel her hand upon his arm, but she sounded as if she were miles away.
Lex sucked in a breath, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Trying to battle the fury building in his head. The guests all stared—in confusion, in wonderment, in awe, in disgust—at the dowager countess of Lexden who stood smiling before them as if her appearance were nothing out of the ordinary. As if she hadn’t decamped to Edinburgh for over a decade. As if he hadn’t wanted her gone forever.
Mrs. Dryden broke the frozen tableau. She approached Lex’s mother with a welcoming smile. “My lady, it has been an age! How do you do?”
The rest of the guests all began talking at once. Those animated whispers... Lex could well imagine what terrible tales they were telling.
She had no right to be here. None. The fury inside Lex escalated to rage. His breathing grew shallower as he watched people approach his mother with fawning curiosity. Her name would be on everyone’s lips on the morrow. All the old scandals would be resurrected. Questions might emerge about Portia’s parentage.
The shrill voice of the dowager countess carried over all the others. “Oh la! How I remember the balls I used to throw here.”
That familiar red haze obscured his vision. Enough.
“Octavius!”
Eleanor’s beseeching whisper was accompanied by a rough jerk of his arm, but it did no good. He glanced down at her. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to remove that person from my home.”
She stepped in front of him. “You can’t. Remember your promise. And perhaps...perhaps Portia would like to speak to her.”
“No.” He just managed to keep from shouting.
She stroked his cheek. “After everyone has gone, we’ll get rid of her. For now, just ignore her.”
“My darling son! It is so good to see you.”
There was no ignoring the woman when she swept up to them with a false smile and an overly loud greeting. She’d aged since he’d last seen her, but that was all he noted in his blinding wrath. Eleanor turned to face the countess, but she also continued to stand in front of him as if to hold him back.
“And this must be Lady Lexden. How pleased I am to meet you at last, my dear. That gown is lovely. Who is your modiste?”
“Why are you here?” Lex bit out. He suspected Drummond’s hand in this too. Once the truth was confirmed, he would hunt the man down and kill him this very night, no matter the consequences.
Her brown eyes glittered, and she chuckled. “The first ball at Lexden House in how many years? I could not miss it!”
Lex wanted to shake her. It was a good thing, after all, that Eleanor stood before him. He repeated his question, each word suffused with a still mounting anger.
His mother looked from him to Eleanor and back again. “Why, Eleanor invited me!”
No. His mother was lying. Lex knew only too well how experienced she was in that art. And Eleanor was shaking her head vigorously.
“I didn’t. I—”
Lady Lexden put out a bejeweled hand. “Oh, but of course you did, in the letter you sent me. So gracious of you.”
“You wrote to her?” Lex waited for Eleanor’s answer, the cold blade of betrayal poised above his chest.
Eleanor whirled around and placed her palms on his coat. “Octavius, please. I did write to your mother but—”
The knife plunged in, stealing his breath away and setting his ears to ringing. Eleanor had done this.
He grabbed her wrists and removed them from his body. “Spare me your excuses. You—”
His mother gave him a dismissive glance. “Goodness, but you are just like your father, Lexden. So insufferable. It was only a letter.”
His blood boiled over. But...he had promised Portia.
He dropped Eleanor’s wrists as if they were hot coals and addressed the room in general “I apologize, but I am feeling indisposed at the moment. If you will all excuse me. Thank you for coming.”
He strode out of the room without a backward glance and took the stairs to his bedchamber. His head swam with ugly thoughts. Eleanor. His mother... It was too much to comprehend.
“Lex, are you looking for me? I was just freshening up.”
Portia was coming down, which meant she had no idea who was in the ballroom. He couldn’t let her walk down there unaware. Hell and damnation, he couldn’t let her walk in there at all. A public ball was no place for Portia to reunite with their mother after all these years. But could he tell her the truth? Could he not?
“Yes, I was actually.” He took her arm and turned her back. At the top of the stairs, he took both of her hands and said, “I don’t think you’ll want to return to the ball.”
She frowned. “Why ever not? It’s more amusing than I hoped.”
“Our mother is here.”
Portia’s face lit up. “She is?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to see her.”
“Of course I do.” She yanked her hands away. “You’ve kept me from her all these years. It was wretched.”
Not this. Not now. “Father’s will kept you from her in the beginning, and I had good reasons for continuing to do so. She’s not fit to be anyone’s mother.”
“She’s the only parent I have. I want to see her!”
Portia turned to go, but Lex stopped her. “If you want to speak with her, we’ll arrange something for tomorrow.” Privacy would help, though not much. Lady Lexden could be brutal on one’s emotions, as Lex well knew. “Tonight will only end badly.”
“I’m not a child any longer!” Portia wrenched herself away from his staying arm, blue eyes flashing. “My mother is here and I want to see her. If you choose to run away and hide, go ahead, but stop trying to run my life!”
His sister flounced down the stairs, heedless of his warning, still not trusting his judgment. Lex watched her petite form, knowing she was headed into an ugly situation. He hadn’t left her alone that dreadful day all those years ago so he couldn’t do so now, even though he’d rather have a tooth drawn than face his mother again.
He followed after Portia.