Page 23 of The Earl Next Door
By the time his father finished, Lyon felt as if he’d swallowed a lead ball. He couldn’t believe he’d wanted to stop the girls from playing! What a blasted thing to do.
“I hadn’t heard that about the school,” Lyon said, his admiration for Lady Wake growing. She was not only daring and zealous, she was kindhearted, too.
Most of the ladies he knew wouldn’t even toss a coin of their pin money to a street urchin, much less take a portion of their inheritance and open a charitable school to teach girls how to sew. To even think about the hardships of the workers’ families was compassionate. To financially help them meant she had a generous, giving nature. That impressed Lyon. He’d bet his stable of stallions no one other than the three widows had done so much for others after the tragedy that took so many lives. Now, he was wishing like hell he hadn’t marched over to quiet the girls. He’d noidea about their past and certainly not the connection they had to Lady Wake and her friends.
No, he couldn’t consider trying to buy the property from her after all. The girls’ lives had already been upset enough with the tragedy. He wouldn’t add to it or their fears again. He would endure the school. How, he didn’t know.
“Identifying the families and then finding them was quite an undertaking as I understand,” his father continued. “Apparently Clements hired excellent people and handled everything for the widows in this endeavor so they didn’t and shouldn’t have to get involved in the intricacies of the school.”
Lyon wasn’t so sure about that statement. The countess seemed very involved and protective of the girls. He had a feeling Mr. Clements didn’t do anything without the capable Lady Wake’s suggestion or permission.
“You’ll remember all three of the ladies lost their husbands when the ship sank.”
“I do remember that.” Lyon was also thinking he might well be the ogre he swore to Lady Wake he wasn’t.
“There’s been spots of gossip about it for the past two or three days,” his father pointed out. “But if you haven’t been to a dinner party, you probably wouldn’t have heard. It’s not the kind of talk you’d hear at a card game. Some ladies, mostly the older ones, think they’ve gone too far from what’s acceptable with this endeavor, but others think it’s fitting they are doing something so benevolent. I assume in a way to memorialize their husbands. They’re being hailed as the wonderful widows by a few.”
“I agree,” he said, wondering why Lady Wake hadn’t told him more about the school. Perhaps because he hadn’t bothered to ask. “They should be recognized. This was very charitable of them.”
The conversation fell quiet again for a few moments before his father revived their earlier discussion by saying, “You know I gave serious consideration to not marrying again.”
“I would have assumed the idea crossed your mind from time to time,” Lyon said dryly.
“Many times. I decided it was worth another try. Perhaps fate will smile upon me this time and give me another son.”
Lyon considered his father’s statement. He couldn’t say that the thought of a child had crossed his mind when he heard his father was going to marry again. But it was always a possibility.
“The truth is, I want to make sure my legacy is the one that carries on the title and not that of my brother. I’m not sure I can depend on you to do that for me.”
“Bloody hell, Marksworth.”
“Be as scornful as you like.”
“Thank you.”
“But it’s the truth. Have you stopped to think lately that if you don’t have a son, our titles will go to Irvin who by the way already has a son, even though he is two years younger than you? I would twist and turn in my grave through all eternity should the title ever go to him. I dare say he’d gamble away everything but the entailed property inside a year, and he’d go through that as well if he could.”
Lyon chuckled. “I’m not going to let you goad meinto proposing to the first lady I see. Besides, I don’t hear rumblings of discontent at any of the clubs concerning my cousin’s behavior. Irvin always manages to find a way to pay his debts.”
“Yes, by laying off the cards and dice until his pockets are plump again from his allowance. He’d like nothing better than the opportunity to pay them with my earnings. Whether or not his inheriting the title disturbs you, it does me. I intend to protect my legacy and see that doesn’t happen. I’d like a little help from you in that area. It’s past time for you to do your duty and find a wife.” Marksworth suddenly chuckled good-naturedly and slapped his hand on his knee.
“Do you intend to let me in on what humors you?” Lyon asked grudgingly.
“Certainly,” his father said. “Just this morning a wager was entered in the books here at White’s that I’ll have another son before you have your first one.”
Before making a comment, Lyon swore under his breath and shifted in his seat. “Our private lives shouldn’t be the subject of a wager,” Lyon said scornfully.
“I know, but what can we do?” Marksworth shrugged without the least amount of compunction. “A man has a right to wager on anything he wants to, and right now I’m the only one of us set to marry, so take a guess on where the bets are being placed. If you’d get busy, you could end all the speculation within a year.”
Lyon would happily have a son—if he found a lady he wanted to be his bride and give him one. At that thought, Lady Wake entered his mind for the thirdtime. It was damnable how he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Marksworth watched Lyon with a stare that seemed to be far more searching and deeper than necessary and asked, “Why the wrinkle in your brow?”
Lyon groused inwardly but said nothing. There was no need. His father had made his point clear. There would be an heir to carry on the title from his bloodline. And it didn’t matter to his father which of them accomplished that.
“Ah, well, we’ll have to save your answer for another day anyway. There’s Mr. Leeds. I must be off to my appointment with him.” Marksworth rose and looked down at Lyon with a hearty smile. “Do you want to come for dinner on Thursday?”
“The usual time?” Lyon asked.
