Page 18 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

Would it never be enough? Could he never atone for what he’d been incapable of stopping?

Could he not school himself into perfection so that he never caused such terrible things to happen again?

Here he’d thought he was improving—learning to box, helping London’s poor as best he could, funding Colin’s club as a place to not only draw in men needing help but also to shelter them in the back rooms if needed, maintaining complete control over himself and his actions.

But all of that had fractured in an instance of frustration.

What else could he do?

The door behind him opened again. Lucas erased any anguish from his expression before turning. His father was standing inside the room, eyes on him.

“Your brother told me I would find you here,” he said as he crossed to a plush armchair.

“Did you need something?”

“Yes, in fact. Sit down, would you?”

Lucas moved stiffly, wary of what the conversation might bring.

Their family was quite close, often spending long hours together in conversation or companionship, but his parents did not generally seek him out for a personal conversation, especially not one that included the serious expression on his father’s face.

Father tended more toward joviality, as Charlie did—though he managed it with far more responsibility.

Lucas sat in the armchair opposite his father’s. “What is it?”

Father looked down at his hands for a moment before answering. “I think it high time you take on more duties as marquess.”

Lucas’s mind jumped to the worst. “Are you well?” he asked, terrified of the answer.

His father looked him in the eye, nodding. “Of course. But I should like the bit of respite—and the chance to mentor you more as you take over the estate and accompanying duties.”

Lucas studied him. “You are sure you are well? I did not anticipate that you would slow down until you were well into your dotage.”

“Your mother would say I am already there, as the stairs seem to wind me more than they once did.” Father chuckled a bit to himself. “But no, I am well.”

Lucas nodded, accepting his father’s assurance, though that tickle of concern remained.

It seemed to always be there in the back of his mind, worry that he would lose another family member.

But taking on more responsibility was something he could comfortably do.

He could do far more good with more responsibility.

“But that is not all, son.”

His eyes found his father’s again.

The wrinkles beside his father’s mouth tightened and loosened before he spoke. “I want you to think seriously about marrying.”

This conversation was proving to be one shock after another, and Lucas could come up with nothing in response. But his father seemed to have expected that.

“I think you perfectly capable of attending to your duties as marquess when I am gone, but I would not for the world wish such a mantle on anyone without a helpmeet. I know you are not unwise in the extent of the requirements of a marquess. The burden of decisions, power, and responsibility is best shared.”

Lucas nodded slowly, buying himself time to come up with some sort of rebuttal. “I have no one in mind for marriage.”

“I expected as much. Your mother would be more than willing to draft up several options for you.” A hint of humor laced this statement.

Lucas allowed a small smile at that. “Believe me, I am aware.”

Father chuckled. “I do not mean to press you, but consider it. You have all Season to find someone you would enjoy having beside you as you take on more responsibility.”

More responsibility. Lucas swallowed, a trickle of fear tingling up his spine. How would he fare if he added the weight of finding a wife to his shoulders? It had never concerned him before, but somehow, in the last weeks, that seemed to have changed.

Father came to his feet, crossing the space between them to clap Lucas on the shoulder. “Just think on it, son.”

Lucas nodded, and his father left.

The empty room created too much silence, which was strange because Lucas generally loved silence and the company of his own thoughts.

But at the moment, it was all too quiet in the room and too loud in his head.

Because sometime around when his father had told him to find a wife, Lucas had begun imagining a face, and it was a face he absolutely should not imagine.

The face of the woman his younger brother was courting.

He scrubbed a hand across his jaw—and scrubbed the image of Miss Faraday from his mind—teeth clenched as he fell into a chair. A wife.

A wife .

He’d already planned to marry... Why was it that having his father recommend it made him suddenly wary?

What would he do with a wife? His father had mentioned someone to bear the mantle of responsibility with him, and he could clearly see how his mother did that for his father.

She stood proudly beside him at all events, yes, but she also sat with him in his study when he had to be up late working.

She rubbed his neck after a long day of estate business.

She kissed him on the cheek each morning before he left and again when he returned home.

But that was not what Lucas wanted out of a marriage. He didn’t want an intimate relationship—he wanted a basic partnership. He wanted someone who would make a good marchioness, not necessarily a good wife.

Above all, he had no intention of falling in love.

But... His father had said nothing about love. Only marriage. He could continue with his plan to marry someone well-matched to him but with no chance of causing him to fall in love, and therefore, no chance of losing that love. His plan would just have to be accelerated.

“Lucas.”

His head jerked up at the sound of his name. His mother was in front of him, hands on hips, watching him with a cocked head.

What had he done wrong? Could she somehow read his inner thoughts? That did seem to be a particular talent of mothers.

“I have called your name three times now.”

Oh. So his inner thoughts were safe, thank the heavens.

“I apologize.” He came to his feet as she came close.

“It is no matter. I was simply passing and saw you within. Is everything well?”

“Yes. Yes, I was just talking with Father.”

Understanding lit her features as they both sat. “I see. I cannot say I disagree with him. If you need any help finding some candidates to—”

“No. Thank you.”

Her eyes twinkled. “You are certain? You know I would do anything to gain grandchildren.”

Lucas shook his head. “You have a stand-in granddaughter with the Bowcotts,” Lucas referenced his friend’s family in an attempt to turn the attention from himself.

“James and Kate did make an adorable daughter.” She smiled at that, then sighed. “I admit, though the idea of having you married makes me happy, I do not wish you to rush it.”

“Yes. Of course.” Discomfort made him wish to shift topics. He did not want to discuss his potential nuptials just now.

“If I am lucky, I may have two sons married soon.”

She could not mean—

“It seems Charlie has really taken an interest in Miss Faraday. Thank you for helping him. I am glad he has you.”

“Well,” Lucas hedged, “I am not certain he truly wishes to court her. He is unwilling to do so outwardly at least.”

Mother waved that off. “He will. She seems a good match for him.”

“She may not be... spirited enough.” She had wit and good humor, but Charlie’s personality was far more than that.

“Then they can balance each other out.”

“He has not gotten to know her particularly well.” He asked about her basic preferences, but did he know she was the sort to stop and talk with children on the street? What of her interest in medicine? Had Charlie asked more about that?

“He will,” Mother replied without an ounce of doubt.

“Yes, but—” Lucas cut himself off, only just realizing that he’d been refuting each of his mother’s statements in an attempt to prove that Charlie was not a good match for Miss Faraday. He cleared his throat.

“Well, I appreciate your help regardless. If ever you can find a chance to push the two of them together more, that would not go amiss.” Her eyes sparkled and seemed not to notice how rigid he’d gone.

“I will do what I can.” The words tasted like a lie on his tongue.

“Wonderful.” She came to her feet. “Now, I need to go speak with Cook about dinner.”

Lucas once again watched another individual leave the library after securing an agreement from him of something he did not particularly wish to agree to.

Perhaps he could allow Colin to get in a hit at his head sometime soon. At least with a head injury, he might forget everything he’d just promised.