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Lex and Henry spent their mornings at the park, doing everything a boy could dream of. Except fishing, of course. In the afternoons, Lex tried—and failed—to get Henry to remain at the house with his nursemaid. Instead, the boy insisted on accompanying him to the arsenal.
Truthfully, Lex was finding it difficult to say no to Henry at all. The child still slept in Lex’s bed. His tin soldiers were strewn about Lex’s study. They ate together in the dining room because, as Henry noted, “Who likes to eat alone?” So of course Henry came to the arsenal and became instantly enthralled with the boring machine and its many different parts.
To be fair, Lex was grateful for any and all distractions the boy provided. At least with the chatterbox present he didn’t have much time to think about the Robsons. Or Eleanor. Or the fact that, as much as he was enjoying this time with his son, he wasn’t entirely happy. Nowhere near it. And of course Lex realized—he’d have to be a lackwit not to—Eleanor had left Henry with him because that’s what he needed. Just like she’d said about what a person did for love. Eleanor knew more than anyone how little Lex deserved a relationship with this boy, and yet she’d selflessly given him up.
On this, their fourth day alone, Lex and his son were ensconced in his study. A warm, heavy breeze drifted through the open window, and an accompanying ray of sunshine fell across a battalion of tin soldiers. Henry sprawled on the carpet, lazily moving the infantrymen.
Lex reached across his desk for the letters Bickley had recently brought. He shuffled through them, uninterested, until he came across one from Lord Palmerston, the Secretary at War.
He stared at it for a long moment. What could the government have to say now that Robson was banished? Had Drummond managed to wreak even more havoc? Despite knowing how angry he should be with Drummond, how he should be punishing the man for failing despite what was likely a real attempt at correcting his malfeasance, Lex hadn’t been able to maintain his fury these past few days. Indeed, he’d rarely thought about the knave at all.
He broke the seal and opened Palmerston’s letter.
Lord Lexden—
As to your question regarding the location of the 48th Regiment...
He’d forgotten all about his inquiry on Henry’s behalf. “Colonel, come here.”
Henry settled one last soldier into place before rising and climbing onto Lex’s lap, where Lex handed him the letter.
“Read it out loud. Lord Palmerston has information for you.”
The boy straightened, and Lex looped an arm around his waist to steady him. “‘Lord Lexden. As to your question regarding the lo—location of the 48th Regiment of Foot, I can tell you with cer...certainty that General Lord Wellesley did indeed lead the regiment down the hill at the Battle of Talavera. As to your request, should Lord Corby furnish me with a letter for the general, I will be glad to post it with the next outgoing dispatch.’”
Henry turned with a grin. “Lord Corby. That’s me! I can write to the general?”
“Absolutely.”
“Right now?”
Was there any other time for young Henry?
Lex found a piece of foolscap and handed it, along with a quill, to his son. “Write out your letter on that. Once you have perfected it, you can copy it onto a piece of vellum.”
Henry moved around to the other side of the desk and began scratching out letters. “Can I write to Mama as well?” The quill stopped moving and the boy looked up. “Actually, I want to see her. She tells me better stories at night. And she pretends to be the lady in the dungeon for me. Can we visit?”
“No.”
Apparently, he could refuse the boy.
“But I miss her. Don’t you?”
“No.”
Just because he thought about Eleanor every moment Henry wasn’t chattering did not mean Lex missed her. Just because he awoke early every morning and sneaked into her dressing room to catch a fading whisper of her scent did not mean he missed her. Just because he lay awake every night recounting Henry’s daily antics to her in his head did not mean he missed her. He was still angry with her. The emotion, though, like his waning fury at Drummond, had dulled to half-heartedness. Or maybe it was eclipsed by anger at himself.
“Pleeeeease?”
Bickley’s efficient knock prevented Lex from having to cruelly crush his son’s supplication. “Mr. Andrew Robson to see you, my lord.”
“Escort him in,” he told the butler. Then he turned to Henry. Much as he enjoyed the boy’s company, he was desperately in need of more mature conversation after four days. “You may spend a few minutes in greeting Mr. Robson, and then you will retire to the nursery where you may finish your letter to the general. And write to your mother if you wish, for we are not going to Mayne Castle.”
The last directive earned him a scowl—which miraculously disappeared when Andrew walked through the door. Henry greeted the man with enthusiasm and waxed delightedly about his opportunity to write to General Wellesley. Then, much to Lex’s surprise, the boy took his paper and quill and graciously left the two of them alone.
Andrew collapsed into the chair facing Lex’s desk. “Good to see you. Have you quite recovered from that ball? More to the point, has Eleanor?”
Must everyone speak of his wife? Even Bickley managed to mention her at least twice a day. “Eleanor and Portia have removed to Essex.” That should stifle any further conversation on the topic.
“I don’t blame her for wanting to escape,” Andrew replied with a shake of his head. “Even knowing your feelings about your mother, old man, that was very poorly done of you, leaving Eleanor to deal with her and the rest of the guests.”
That wasn’t fair. Was it?
What isn’t fair is the manner in which you have once again blamed Eleanor for another’s actions.
Lex shifted in his chair. That wasn’t his father’s voice chiding him from the depths of his mind; it was his own, and the acknowledgement made him that much more uncomfortable. He swiped a hand down his chin and glanced at Andrew. “When do you return to Scotland? Your studies will not await you forever, you know.”
Andrew laughed, though there was nothing joyful in the sound. “I don’t want to discuss my paltry affairs any more than you want to discuss yours. We are a sad lot, are we not? The ne’er-do-well American and the self-indulgent earl. Shall we toast our faults?”
Lex had promised Elliot Robson he would speak to Andrew. Now was as good a time as any.
“You know you can’t avoid settling down forever. When are you going to take responsibility for your life?” he asked. But a dreadful feeling curdled in Lex’s stomach as he did. He was the one who needed to take responsibility for his life. What in God’s name had he done? Memories of his actions, of his words, congealed in his brain. Heavy with the awfulness of his behavior, his head dropped into his hands.
“Good God, man, you really do look as if you need a drink. May I?”
Lex flicked a hand in acquiescence. Glasses clinked, liquid gushed, and a drink plopped onto his desk. He really didn’t want it, but perhaps the brandy would calm the panic coursing through his blood. Lex sat up and tossed back half of the glass’s contents. Andrew watched with raised eyebrows.
As the brandy burned its way to his stomach, Lex tried to form a coherent thought. “I just— What was I—? Andrew, I drove her away. I ruined everything.”
His friend swallowed a healthy dose of his own drink. “Ah, then there was more to it than just your leaving Eleanor to fend for herself.”
Lex finished his brandy, but the horror didn’t lessen. Weeks ago, he’d told Eleanor he “couldn’t do this,” couldn’t make their marriage work even as a charade. In truth, he’d had no desire to make a success of it. Now he had the desire but also proof that he wasn’t truly capable of being married. Or worthy of being loved. Especially by a woman like Eleanor.
“It was ugly. I was ugly,” he admitted to his friend. He was under no obligation to relate his every offence, but it seemed that whenever he did finally realize the error of his ways, he had to talk about it. “She rang a peal over my head and left. I deserved no less.”
Andrew leaned forward. “Shall I help you prepare to beg for forgiveness? You can practice your speech on me.”
Lex shook his head, almost too afraid to say the words in his head aloud. They came out anyway, barely above a whisper. “Some things cannot be forgiven, especially after all my past transgressions.” So many transgressions. Truthfully, Eleanor had every right to leave him and never look back. He’d been right all those years ago: It was better to keep to himself and spare others his madness.
In that vein: “There is something you can do for me.” At Andrew’s raised eyebrow, Lex continued, “Will you escort Henry to Mayne Castle in the next day or two?”
The question alone made his chest ache, but it must be done. Henry belonged with his mother and Lex had no right to keep them apart.
“If you take him, you can speak to Eleanor,” Andrew pointed out.
“No.” He would have no idea what to say. He couldn’t dwell on this. It must be done and done without delay. “Andrew, please. Can you get away?”
“Of course. Tomorrow, if you truly wish it.” The man stood and ran a hand through his unruly hair. “I can see you are in no mood to listen to reason today, but perhaps you will see things in a new light by morning.”
More likely he would be miserable, considering how disappointed Henry would be, but Lex walked Andrew to the front hall and thanked him for his assistance. They made arrangements for Andrew to arrive at noon and convey the boy back in Lex’s own carriage. Twice Andrew opened his mouth to speak further, but upon looking Lex in the eye thought better of it. Finally, he simply took his hat and walking stick from Bickley and left without another word.
Lex took a cowardly turn and went back to his study instead of informing Henry of his imminent travel plans.
Dinner was a pleasant affair, at least for Henry, because Lex still had not told him about his departure. Afterwards, at Henry’s request, they read aloud from The Secret of the Cavern and then it was time to tuck the boy in.
Clad in his nightshirt and giggling madly from being tossed onto the mattress no less than five times, Henry finally consented to crawl beneath the counterpane and lay his head down. Lex sat on the edge of the bed and brushed rumpled hair off his son’s forehead. He wasn’t certain which would cause him more pain: if Henry was happy to return to Mayne Castle without his father or if he was devastated to go without him. Whatever the case, Lex couldn’t put the announcement off any longer.
“You are going to get your wish, Colonel. Tomorrow you return to your mother.”
How sweet was the smile that graced the boy’s face. As much as he dreaded the separation, Lex knew he had done the right thing.
“When do we leave, sir?”
Lex cleared his throat. “You leave at noon. Mr. Andrew Robson has agreed to escort you. Won’t that be an adventure?”
How quickly that smile vanished. “Why aren’t you coming with me?”
“You know I must get the arsenal functioning. And I should probably visit my other estates. I’ve also been derelict in taking my seat in the House of Lords, a situation I should rectify. As well, I mean to move from this house and must secure another. So you can see that I am impossibly busy and cannot come with you.”
Lex reached out to smooth Henry’s furiously furrowed brow, but his hand was swatted away. “I won’t ever see you again, will I? It will be just like before, when you never came to visit.”
Those shiny, fat tears were Lex’s undoing. He gathered Henry up, and the boy flung his arms around Lex’s neck. Earlier he’d stripped off his coat and waistcoat, so now the hot wetness fell onto his shoulder and soaked through the linen of his shirt.
“Sir, please come with me. I will give you...two shillings, threepence if you will.”
Oh God. Lex squeezed him harder but said nothing.
“That’s all I have. I want Mama but I want you too. Please, sir.”
This time Lex forced himself to speak. “I can’t.”
Henry wrenched away and threw himself face down in the pillow. His words were muffled but had no less of an impact. “I knew you didn’t love me.”
Chest burning and head pounding, Lex fisted the counterpane in a bruising grip. As much as his brain was telling him to walk out the door, his heart wouldn’t let him. He could not let another son of Lexden think he wasn’t loved.
He let go of the abused coverlet and stretched out beside Henry. The paralysis in his chest eased and his head cleared. He splayed a hand over his son’s back and leaned closer. The words slipped out much easier than he ever would have thought. “Henry, I do love you. I promise I won’t abandon you ever again.”
A few sniffles and huge gulp later, “You’ll come to Mayne Castle?”
Lex sighed and gave Henry a nudge so he would turn over. “No. But...” He rushed on when the familial scowl began to emerge on his son’s face: “You can spend half your time there with your mother and the other half with me. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
The boy looked as if he wanted to disagree, but in the end he reached out and patted Lex’s arm. “Say it again.”
No need to ask what. After having said it once already, Lex had no compunction repeating it. “I love you.”
All vestiges of the scowl disappeared, and the boy smiled. His boy. “May I go with you to visit your other estates? And can you please find another house close to the park? What’s wrong with this house, anyway?”
Lex chuckled and pulled Henry to his chest, relaxing into the mattress. “Yes, you may come with me to Somerset and Wiltshire.” He didn’t say so, but he planned to teach Henry about estate management just as his own father had, under the guise of riding and adventures. He hoped to God he could keep the insanity under some sort of control for as long as possible so he could give Henry a normal life. “As for this house, I find it no longer suitable. I am ready for a change but I will note your desire as to location.”
“Thank you, sir.” Henry yawned and snuggled closer. “So, am I still to go with Mr. Robson? He is great fun and Aunt Portia will like to see him.”
Lex swallowed a groan. “I’m certain she will. Yes, Mr. Robson will accompany you. I will write to your mother and inquire if I might have you back in a fortnight. Will that suit you?”
“I s’pose. I should really like to show you my favorite places in the castle though.”
“Another time perhaps.” Lex’s muscles flinched at the possibility of seeing Eleanor. The disgust on her face would be unbearable. He was the ogre she’d always believed him to be, and he couldn’t inflict himself on her anymore.
“May we go to the park one last time in the morning?” the boy asked in a sleepy voice.
“Of course, Colonel.”
Lex willfully put Eleanor from his mind and rubbed Henry’s arm. Within a minute his son drifted off, his breaths even and deep, and Lex lay there in the semi-darkness, comforted by Henry’s solid form curled within the embrace of his arm.
The boy hadn’t reciprocated with a declaration of love, and Lex was glad of it. It was better for him to love Portia and Henry as best he could without requiring any strong emotions from them in return. As had been clearly demonstrated the week prior, he didn’t know what to do with someone else’s love except crush it beneath his selfish anger—much like his mother had done to his father. He was just like her. He was mad like his father and selfish like his mother. Never was an insult more deserving. He’d inherited the worst from each of them.
Portia, at least, was free from the bonds of his father’s affliction. As for their mother...
Lex carefully untangled his arm from Henry, kissed the boy on the forehead, and slid off the bed. A few minutes later he was ensconced in his study, a solitary candle dimly lighting the room. The subject of mothers still rattled around in his brain. Eleanor’s mother was no better than his own, putting her own wants and needs above those of her only child. He’d made a bargain with her at the ball, and he hoped she and Eleanor could start anew. Mrs. Dryden had called the day after, asking to see her daughter, to Lex’s surprise and satisfaction. She’d turned wary when he’d told her Eleanor was back in Essex, but he’d reassured her that their agreement was still valid. His mother-in-law then announced that she would perhaps journey to Mayne Castle in the coming weeks. It was a step forward.
Lex sat up straight. Could his own mother be bribed into more appropriate behavior for Portia’s sake? The last thing he wanted was to see his mother again. But for Portia...
To the Pulteney he would go then.