by Fanny Walsh
He tried in vain to smooth out his wrinkled clothing and smooth back his unruly hair. The older man grunted.
“Well?” he said, glaring at Duncan.
Duncan shook his head. He plastered a forced smile on his face, suppressing a groan.
“Hello, Father. Please, won’t you come in?”
The older gentleman grunted again as he pushed past his son. Without waiting for an invitation, he took a chair on the visitor’s side of the office’s desk.
“What brings you here so early, Father?” Duncan asked, reclaiming his seat.
“Hmph. Early!” his father grumbled, holding up his pocket watch.
Duncan saw that it was a quarter until 9 o’clock in the morning. Wincing, Duncan sat back in his chair, trying to keep his air light, despite his father’s simmering anger.
“Is something the matter?” Duncan asked, taking a different approach to learning why his father stopped by.
The older man looked around the office, a look of mild disgust forming on his face.
Duncan knew that his father detested the fact that his son had devoted so much of his life studying medicine and had chosen a career as a doctor.
However, he believed that the most uncomfortable part of his father’s disappointment lay in the past.
He felt his stomach knot as he waited for the older man to answer his question.
“Duncan,” he began. “Son. I’ve been rather lenient, I think, about this whole…” He raised his hand, gesturing with disapproval round his son’s office. “This doctor business. However…” he trailed off, giving way to a fit of harsh coughing.
Alarmed, Duncan rose from his seat, reaching for his father. The older man waved his son’s hand away. When the fit passed, he continued.
“However, now I fear I must refuse to continue to support your decisions. More specifically, your decision to avoid marriage for pursuing all this.”
Duncan heaved a sigh. He had heard his father’s strong opinions about marriage before, and the last thing for which he was prepared was another lecture on the subject.
He tensed his jaw but remained silent. He lowered himself back down into his chair.
“Support that decision? If your harshness has been you supporting it, I shudder to think of what would happen if you rejected it.”
The Earl stared at his son again. Duncan was surprised to see that his face had softened. He looked almost forlorn.
“Forgive me, Father,” he said. “I am still out of sorts this morning. Please, do continue.”
The Earl regarded his son for a moment, then proceeded.
“My boy, I am ill, and I fear I do not have much time left,” he said in a quiet tone.
Duncan’s eyes widened. He stared at his father for a long moment, trying to understand what his father was saying. Before he could find his voice, his father spoke again.
“Despite our… differences, you are my son. Nothing would put my soul at rest more than knowing that my title and estate were passed down to you, its rightful heir.
”However, until you are married, I cannot be assured that you will produce your own heir to continue our family’s legacy.”
The Earl stopped, another fit taking hold on him.
Duncan exhaled sharply. Despite the gravity of his father’s words, he was furious that the conversation had turned, as always, to the subject of Duncan’s marriage.
“But, Father,” he protested, struggling to keep his voice low and unoffending, “surely you know that many an earl has lived a prosperous, dignified life, without having ever married. It is not as if having a wife is a prerequisite for being an earl.”
The Earl’s face was red, although Duncan could not tell if it was from anger or his coughing spells.
“And surely you know that the legacies of those earls pass off to god-knows-what kind of ruffian once the last rightful heir dies off. And what of the rest of their families, when they lose those legacies?”
“If an earl does not marry, what family is there to consider?” Duncan pressed, determined to stand his ground.
His father did not know that he had his own, private reasons for not wishing to marry, and now was certainly not the time to mention his secret concerns.
The Earl grunted, shaking his head.
“Your mother is lucky to not be here to see your stubbornness,” he said. “She wanted nothing more for you than to live happily with a family of your own.”
Duncan froze at the mention of his mother. Since her untimely death, much of the family maintained a cool distance from him. They made it clear they wanted little to do with Duncan.
Everyone, that is, except for his cousin Theodore – a cousin from his father’s side of the family.
Theodore had been more like a brother to him all his life, and he loved him as well as he would a true brother. However, as Theodore grew into adulthood, he also grew into an affection for gambling.
As much as Theodore enjoyed gambling though, he was not good at it, and had quickly squandered away much of his money.
This, of course, was a secret that Duncan kept strictly between himself and Theodore. Well, and those to whom Theodore lost his gambling bets.
Not only did he love Theodore, but he also knew the shame that this indiscretion would bring to the rest of his family.
Not only that, but Theodore did have a wife to consider, although one would never know it with the way he continued to dig himself into deeper pits with his habits every day.
Duncan himself had even helped Theodore out of a scrape or two, but he was growing weary of doing so.
The Earl took advantage of his son’s silence.
“I was devastated to learn that you wished to learn… medicine…” the Earl said, spitting as if the word was poison, “rather than continue your grooming to inherit my title and estate.”
Duncan knew well how disappointed his father was in him, not just for his chosen vocation, but also for not being more like his best friend, Julius. Julius was an avid hunter, played sports all through school, and had quite the reputation for wooing women.
“Yes, I know,” Duncan sighed, “so you’ve told me. And everyone in the family who would listen.”
“Had you not kept it from me that you were already apprenticing under another physician like it were some shameful sin, perhaps I would not have been so hard on you.”
“We both know that is an egregious lie, Father,” Duncan said. “I hid my apprenticeship from you because you had already made your feelings about me practicing medicine quite clear.
“I hid it because, to you, it was a shameful sin. In fact, the only reason you didn’t cause a bigger scene when you discovered it, is because it would have brought shame upon the whole family in the public eye.”
“I only wanted, as I always have, the very best for you. Contrary to what you may think, I do love you, and I needed to ensure your legacy when I finally do leave this world,” the Earl said, surprisingly calm.
Duncan looked at his father, aghast.
“Yes, Father, you loved me so much that you made a spectacle of your disappointment in my chosen career path in front of the family.”
“The life of a physician is no life for a future earl. Can’t you see that? What would people think? Lord Doctor Bellston, can you imagine it? Or, would it be Doctor Lord?” He scoffed, causing another fit of coughing.
Duncan, furious, ignored the spell.
“I am a joke to you, then, isn’t that right, Father? Well, I think that the real reason you did not wish for me to pursue a career in medicine is because you hate physicians. You feel yourself above them because, in your eyes, any doctor worth his weight in salt could have saved Mother.”
This, the Earl did not find so amusing.
“Hold your tongue, Duncan, before it lashes much more than for what you are prepared,” he said, his voice thick with warning.
Duncan did not heed him.
“I loved Mother dearly, you know that. And I…” Duncan trailed o
ff, barely cutting himself off before he spoke his entire mind.
He wished more than ever to keep his secret fears and concerns from his father. He took a long, deep breath to recollect his thoughts.
“And,” he continued at last, “had you listened to me at all, you would know that the reason I chose to practice medicine was to find a way to prevent many other people from befalling the same fate.”
Duncan’s eyes stung with tears, but he choked them back. For a man to cry, especially in front of his own father, would have been abominable.
“Besides,” he added, “I would have gone completely mad if I had been forced to endure another moment of your ‘grooming’.”
“I did not realize that being my son was such a burden,” the Earl said, true pain in his eyes.
Duncan sighed.
“That is not what I meant. I love you just as I loved Mother, and I am proud to be your son. But, why must being proud mean that I also must not have a dream different from yours? Why can I not build a career apart from the family business?”
His father drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“I did not come here to argue with you about your career choice again, believe it or not. However, I now fear that the rest of the conversation will be just as perilous. But there is no sense in postponing the inevitable.”
The Earl shifted in his seat and plunged ahead.
“I came to tell you that, with my health in such a decline, I must ensure that all my affairs are in order before I pass on. Those affairs include, of course, securing an heir and making all arrangements official. I intend to do these things as quickly as possible, no matter who I name as heir.”
Duncan furrowed his brow, confused. Who else was there to name as heir?
“I never wanted to resort to threats or the like,” the Earl continued. “Nonetheless, I come to you today with this message.
“If you do not find a wife within six months’ time, I shall strike your name from my will and leave my estate, the family fortune, everything, to your cousin, Theodore.”
Duncan’s face contorted from concern to horror.
“Father, you cannot! Theodore is not…” he stopped himself, perilously close to betraying his cousin’s secret.
“That is… Well, surely you do not think even a viscount capable of stepping outside his door and securing a wife the moment he snaps his fingers?” he tried to speak in jest, but in his flustered state, it sounded weak.
His father did laugh.
“Of course not. However, I do believe that you underestimate the demand for a titled man. Why, do you know how many women live for London Season for no purpose other than snagging themselves a wealthy, titled man?”
“I do. And I also know that those women are shallow, dull, and interested in nothing but the wealth and title of a man.”
“Is there anything else that should be of interest?” the Earl asked, looking genuinely perplexed.
Duncan looked at his father, bewildered.
“Certainly, there is. Love, for one thing.” He rose from his seat and began to pace behind his desk.
“Love! What has love to do with anything?” his father asked, looking more puzzled by the moment.
Duncan sighed.
“You mean to tell me that you did not, in fact, love Mother?”
“Of course, I did. But that love developed after we married, and you came along,” the Earl said sternly, but his gaze dropped from his son’s.
“So, you did not know you loved Mother when you married her?”
“That is far from the point at hand,” his father said, still avoiding his eyes. “We are talking about you, and what you must do to remain my heir.”
“So, you wish me to marry a woman I do not know, let alone love, and then what? What if it turns out that she is barren? Then, all attempts to produce an heir would be for naught, and I would be stuck in an insufferable marriage. Is that about the extent of it, Father?” Duncan asked.
He knew his incredulity was etched on his face, but the conversation had exhausted him too much to mask it.
To his relief, his father did not continue to press the point. Instead, he rose and moved slowly toward the door. Duncan walked with his father to see him out, neither of them speaking until they reached the office door.
The Earl turned to face Duncan once more and put his hand on his son’s shoulder.
“I don’t expect your answer today,” he said. “That would be barbaric of me.”
Duncan exhaled a breath he had not realized was trapped in his lungs. Relieved, he nodded to his father.
“Just remember what I have said, son,” the Earl said, his hand on the door to open it.
Duncan sighed again. He was more fearful than ever of the prospect of marriage and having children, but he could not speak a word of his concerns to anyone.
Even if he did, he would likely become a laughing stock. For the time being, however, the potential ruin of the family fortune and the earl’s title was more important than his fear.
Theodore could not be allowed to inherit everything, and Duncan knew of only one way to ensure that did not happen.
He heard himself speak as though he were a spectator outside himself. He paled as the words passed his lips, but they were out before he regained his body.
“Alright, Father. I… I will begin my search for a wife.”
Chapter 3
Although they traveled towards London mostly in silence, Mary was grateful for Susan’s company.
While she typically did not mind an opportunity to sort through her thoughts, without others telling her what those thoughts should be, she also typically had control over where her thoughts wandered.
Today, however, each thought seemed to have a mind of its own, and each one with more malicious intentions than the last.
What if her leg gave out, causing her to fall face-first in front of these prestigious business men? Should she have sent Uncle in her place?
Mary pressed her hand to her forehead, gently rubbing to try to cease the terrifying mind race. Her cool fingers felt good on her hot, throbbing head, and she closed her eyes.
“Are you alright, milady?” Susan asked.
Mary nodded. “Yes. Just a bit nervous, is all.”
The difficult night’s sleep began to take its toll, and Mary was soon in a doze, despite the jolting from the rough ride. She slept for a brief time, and even her unconscious mind enjoyed the reprieve from her troubles and menacing thoughts.
Then, all at once, she had the sensation of falling.
She looked around her and saw nothing of discernable recognition. She seemed to be falling from a strange hole in the sky and falling toward some unseen location.
She flailed her arms desperately, hoping to grab onto something from which to cling to life, although she could see nothing that would offer her aid.
Suddenly, she caught glimpses of people she knew. Friends, relatives, servants.
At first, she thought them to be falling, too. Then, she saw herself flying past them, ever downward, and noticed that they all seemed to be leaning out of windows. Yet, she could not see any buildings.
She gradually realized that the windows were just that, and they were suspended in the sky among the clouds, not attached to any bricks or stone.
Frantic, she began to reach out and call to them, hoping someone was close enough to rescue her.
None made a move to save her, though. In fact, they all simply stared at her, with blank expressions on their faces. Even her friend Beatrice merely looked down her nose as Mary plummeted.
The clouds parted, and Mary could see a group of people standing around a black drape. No, not a black drape. Part of her father’s scorched land. And not a group of people, but all men.
Men dressed in business attire, all with angry, disapproving scowls. She understood at once that they were not there to save her. In fact, they all seemed anxious to witness her calamity.
She opened her mouth to scre
am, but a dramatic jolt silenced her…
Her eyes flew open, and she found herself back in her carriage, which was slowing its pace.
She blinked, trying to get a look at her surroundings. She must have slept longer than she realized, because she had already arrived downtown.
“Milady?” Susan asked, her brow creasing in concern.
“The carriage slowing just gave me a start,” Mary said, giving Susan what she hoped was a confident smile.
