When the Duke Returns(67)

“These are letters that hint at other transgressions,” Simeon stated.

“Of what kind?” Isidore asked interestedly.

Simeon rose, extracted a sheet of tinted note paper, and handed it to her. It was written in a sloping, elegant hand and still smelled faintly of roses. It wasn’t long, though bitterness made the phrases pungent.

Isidore looked up. “Your father’s mistress, I presume?”

“One of them.”

“One? How many are there?”

“There are four such letters. Then there are five or six of a less imploring nature.”

“Five or six! That’s—”

“At least ten women,” Simeon said flatly.

Isidore bit her lip. “As I understand it, it is a common practice. Ten may seem a great many, but your father was a man of many years, and he—”

“The ten letters are all dated within the last six years of his life.”

“Well,” Isidore said, thinking frantically, “he certainly was a virile man.”

Simeon’s jaw tightened. Clearly he did not appreciate his father’s virility.

“At least your mother doesn’t know,” Isidore said, looking for a bright side.

“Actually, she does.”

“How do you know?”

In answer, he got up and fetched another piece of paper, handing it to her. This letter wasn’t quite so bitter: it mournfully requested that the duke fulfill at least some of the promises he had made, for a small cottage, the writer noted, and a pension. At the very bottom, written in the duchess’s spidery handwriting was a note indicating a payment of four hundred pounds.

“Four hundred pounds!” Isidore said. “At least she got her cottage.”

“Yes.” His voice was so uncompromising and rage-filled that Isidore fell silent again. “Did your father have a mistress?” he asked, finally.

“I don’t believe so. My mother…” Her voice trailed off.

“What?”

“Would have killed him,” she said. “You said that I was uncomfortably emotional, Simeon. I got it from my mother. She had a terrible temper, and occasionally she would erupt into rages and scream.” She smiled, thinking of it.

Simeon looked appalled.

“My father would argue at first,” Isidore said, “and finally he would start laughing. Then she would laugh too, and it would be over.”

“I feel as if I returned home to a family I never knew,” Simeon said. “I had no idea that my father swam in a sea of deceit, cheating everyone from the tradespeople to his intimates. I fear that debts of honor will be called in at any moment.”

“Was he a gamester?”

“I have no idea. To this point, no one has approached me about gaming debts left unpaid. I didn’t know him.”

“It could be that no one really understands another person,” Isidore offered.

Simeon put down his knife and fork with sharp little clicks. “I am a man of restraint and habit, Isidore. I do not like chaos.”

“I know,” Isidore said, feeling her melancholy almost like a friend at this point.

“I dislike—I truly dislike—this feeling that at any moment, unpleasant truths about my family may appear. I wasn’t observant as a child and I noticed little beyond my parents’ arguments. Even those I paid scant attention to. I was utterly riveted by my dreams of travel.”

She had to smile at the idea of that. “Ever since you were little?”

“I left the country at the earliest possible age. My father thought I would be travelling for a year. I knew it would be far longer, though I didn’t emphasize the point. Yet I would have come back if I’d known the family was unraveling at the seams.”

“How you’ve changed,” Isidore said. “You used to long for adventure, and now you seem to want the quiet life you once despised.”

“There’s such a thing as too much adventure,” he said dryly. “Near-Death-by-Privy is a good example of what adventure often looks like, up close.”

“Once you pay the outstanding bills, you won’t be buffeted by chaos.” It had to be said, so she said it. “I have been thinking about your reluctance to marry me, Simeon, and I think your initial instinct was right. I am not the proper wife for you. The solicitor made it clear that we could end the marriage, and I think we should.”

He had picked up his knife but he put it down again, very precisely. He didn’t seem inclined to speak, so she continued. “You will be much happier with someone like yourself, someone restrained and organized. I am not very restrained, Simeon. And you haven’t even seen my worst side. I would make you uncomfortable in the long run.”