Page 36 of A Sporting Chance (The Chances #8)

“H as he already left?”

“He must have gone ahead of us, Maudy.”

“Don’t call me that!”

Leopold smiled sadly as he sat in the darkness of the library and listened to the chatter of his family on the other side of the door.

Despite the fact his sister was over thirty years old, their mother had never really stopped thinking of her as a child.

The name Maudy was currently a particular irritant.

Footfalls. They were getting ready to go to the Halifaxes for dinner, something that Leopold had been looking forward to until today. Today, nothing could drag him there.

“I suppose Alexander is meeting us there?”

A snort. A laugh from Maude that demonstrated just how ridiculous she thought their mother was. “Honestly, Mama, you don’t truly think that he will be there, do you?”

“But the Halifaxes were most generous in their invitation to all.”

“And I am sure if Alexander can pry himself away from his current paramour—”

“ Maude Chance !”

Leopold lifted his glass to his lips and was surprised to discover it was empty. Empty? Had he not filled it mere minutes ago?

Perhaps it had been longer. It was difficult to tell just how time was passing when one was sitting alone.

The sun had been hidden by dark clouds all day, giving an unnatural darkness to the room for the time of year.

A maid had come in what felt like hours ago and had drawn the curtains, without saying a word to him, something for which Leopold was grateful.

The last thing he wanted was someone to speak to him.

He had not moved from the armchair for some time, and the pattering of feet in the hall was insufficient to move him.

“So Leopold has gone ahead of us, then?”

Leopold stiffened. He did not want to go to this dratted dinner.

What, sit there and politely smile and try to pretend he was not dying on the inside?

Suffer the polite smiles and the awkward realization that they had not been able to remove him from their invitation?

Hear the mutters of Lady Grasmere as she tried to draw her eligible daughters from him?

How quick would the gossip spread?

The sneer on Lord Graycott’s face was indelibly marked in his mind, and no matter how much of his father’s brandy he drank, Leopold could not forget it.

Whatever he had done to gain the man’s dislike, he would never survive this. His reputation was tarnished forever. It was easy for people like his brother Alexander. Society expected sons of dukes to be rakes.

But cheats?

“I’m sure Leopold has gone ahead of us, Mama,” came Maude’s calming voice. “Come on. If we do not venture out soon, we shall be late, and you know how the Halifaxes feel about that.”

More footsteps, the swish of what could be pelisses. And then—

“Are we all ready?”

That was his father’s voice. Hearing it, even through the wall, caused a twinge of guilt to sear through Leopold.

He had let down a great number of people, of course, but his father was the one who would feel the disgrace the most. William Chance, Dowager Duke of Cothrom, had always been so aware of their position in Society, so conscious of their respectability, so desperate to ensure they did not lose that regard.

And now…

Leopold sighed. Now, after one bad gamble and one misunderstanding and one betting pool he’d had nothing to do with, his whole life was over.

“It’s frightfully cold out here,” said his mother. “Where has the summer gone? Careful with your skirts, Maudy.”

“Do not call me that!”

His mother and sister’s loving bickering faded in volume. Then there was the creak and snap of the front door closing, and silence.

Leopold blew out heavily. Alone in the house, all because he could not manage to properly court and marry a woman.

Thomas, his older brother, had never had that problem.

His marriage to Victoria was happy, from what Leopold could see.

Why had he not been able to find the same joy, the same contentment?

But he would never be happy now, not with Kathleen Andilet believing the absolute worst of him.

Fire sparked in his belly. And she had been so quick, too, so quick to believe the worst of him.

There was a knock on the door. Leopold started, then slumped back down into the armchair. It was undoubtedly a footman who wished to ensure there was no family in the room before doing something. Lighting a lamp, perhaps. The library had some truly ornate ones in the corners.

The door opened.

“I thought I’d find you here,” said Leopold’s father quietly.

Leopold tried to do three things in rapid succession. Firstly, he tried to rise to his feet. Secondly, he tried to hide the brandy glass behind his back—he wasn’t supposed to be drinking his father’s supply, after all. Thirdly, he tried to sober up.

None of these were particularly well achieved.

“Oh, don’t worry,” said his father awkwardly, his focus lingering on the glass not quite hidden behind Leopold’s back. “I knew you and your brother have been dipping into my stash for years.”

Leopold smiled weakly, and decided not to tell him that it had been mostly himself and Maude who had done so. There had been enough scandal in this family without that coming to light.

Strange—he had presumed his father had gone to dinner with the Halifaxes. He had certainly been in the hall with Maude and their mother, so why had he not accompanied them?

William Chance closed the library door behind him and then swung his arms slightly without saying a word.

Leopold almost fell back into the chair behind him.

His… His father was not embarrassed, was he?

Oh, God. He had heard the gossip. Leopold had hoped to gain enough bravery tomorrow, once his hangover had dissipated, to tell his father himself. He had hoped to inform the man of the worst before he discovered it from another source, and therefore hopefully protect himself from the worst.

But he was too late. Another blunder.

“I… Well, Nicholls mentioned a maid reported you were moping in here, his words, not mine,” said Leopold’s father awkwardly, still swinging his arms and looking all about the room at anything other than his son. “And so I thought. Well. I’d come and see what the moping is all about.”

And despite himself, Leopold felt his heart soften.

He had never met his grandfather. The man had died before Leopold had born, before the William Chance had married and inherited a daughter. From all the family stories, Grandfather Chance had been a harsh man who had cheated on his wife and raised his bastard with his sons.

Not the most pleasant of characters.

It was only in moments like this, when Leopold could see his father was doing his absolute best and hating every minute of it, did he remember that William had never had the benefit of a father who had known how to love him.

William Chance had tried to change that. And though Leopold could criticize, and guiltily he certainly did, he knew his father was doing the best he could.

And that could not be criticized.

“I am moping,” Leopold said quietly, sinking into the armchair, “because I have made a mistake. I was wrong, and I’ve hurt someone I care about. They hurt me, too, but I… I should have fought harder. Now it’s too late.”

Just saying the words aloud were painful. What was even more painful was the silence that followed. His father just…stood there. Silently. Saying nothing. For a quite significant amount of time.

As Leopold silently decided that it was best that he simply rise from his seat and vacate the room, his father said quietly, “I suppose this is about a woman?”

Leopold nodded.

Even in the gloom of the room, it appeared his father could see him, because he sighed heavily. “I thought Alexander was the only one getting himself entangled in those sorts of affairs. I had not excepted it of the both of you.”

“It’s not like that!” Leopold had not intended ferocity in his words, but he could not help it. Kathleen was not to be lumped together in the category of ‘ladies who would willingly part their legs for Alexander.’ “It’s… It was… It could have been… I love her.”

Saying such words in his father’s presence should have been mortifying, but Leopold discovered to his surprise that they came totally naturally.

His love for Kathleen, though thwarted, could not disappear. He cared too deeply, knew his affection for her could not melt away merely because a disaster had befallen them.

Because it was more than that. Deeper than that. Intrinsic to who he was now. He could just as easily remove his own heart.

“You love her,” said his father slowly, stepping into the room and moving to sit in the sofa opposite Leopold.

Leopold nodded, not quite trusting his voice. “Yes.”

“You are sure?”

He gave a laugh at that. “Quite sure, Father. She… She is the best part of the world, and whenever I am with her…I am the bow, and she pulls me back and points me at the world, and I know the power we share only exists when we are together.” It was foolish to speak in this way, foolish in the extreme, but he could not help it.

He adored her, and he did not care who knew. “Without her, I am nothing.”

“You are without her now, I presume, due to a misunderstanding?” asked his father stiffly.

Leopold’s jaw tightened. “She would not trust me.”

“Ah. Cards.”

And it was fury that spilled from Leopold at his father, whom he pinned against the sofa with his ire.

“Believe it or not, Father, I am neither a cheat, nor am I a brigand! I played fair in cards and it is slander against my name that I did not, and it is that sort of thinking that has lost me Kathleen Andilet!”

The instant his shout had left his mouth, Leopold regretted it. Pools of twisting anger were still coiling in his stomach, but his father had done nothing wrong, not really. He did not deserve to be shouted at.

“I apologize,” he said stiffly. “For shouting. But my point remains. I have done naught wrong, and it is gossip like that which has lost me the woman who ought to have been my future wife.”