Page 42 of The Rules of Matrimony (The Matchmaking Mamas #4)
Ian sat at his father’s desk, staring at a blank spot on the wall, lost in his thoughts. He couldn’t bring himself to ride to the club in Town to meet Sir James. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything. Not when he’d bungled everything with Amie.
Blast his temper. Blast his insecurities. Blast the deuced ache in his chest.
He’d done just what he’d sought to avoid—he’d hurt her. He had to fix the rift between them, but how could he when he didn’t know how to fix himself?
He didn’t know how long he’d sat there before Mother knocked on the door and peeked inside. “I brought you some refreshment. May I come in?”
He didn’t answer her, but her skirts swished inside the room, where she set the tea tray on the desk between them. Without a word, she proceeded to fill a plate with some finger sandwiches, which she set before him.
“I’m not particularly hungry,” he mumbled, pushing the plate back.
“I saw the carriage leaving when I returned home.”
He nodded. “Amie’s mother is in town. It is right that they spend time together.”
“I thought I saw Amie crying through the window,” Mama hedged.
He hated when she cried. “Leave it be, Mama.”
“I tried to,” she said, “but when I checked on your father, he told me what happened this morning.”
Ian’s stupor faded, and he glanced sharply at his mother. “He did?” That couldn’t have been easy for her. Concern for her surpassed his feelings of self-loathing. “Are you all right?”
“Am I all right?” She gave a nervous laugh, and that was when he noticed her fingers shaking. “The question is, Are you?”
“I will be.” If he could ever forgive himself for making Amie cry. All he’d wanted to do was avoid this, and yet staying away from her had hurt her anyway. Could he do nothing right? And now he couldn’t even bring himself to aid Sir James.
“Your father would like to speak with you.”
“I know.”
“Eat a little, and then, please, talk with him.”
“Must I?” He dreaded another confrontation, especially now when he was still reeling from his conversation with Amie.
Mama poured him some tea and set it beside his untouched plate. “It would mean a great deal to me if you would.”
Why did she push so hard for him to get along with Father when she knew he couldn’t respect the man? But that pleading look and the love he had for her won him over. “Very well. I will be up shortly.”
A small smile appeared. “Thank you, Ian. You are the best son a mother could ask for.”
He very much doubted that. He couldn’t love his wife. He couldn’t give his mother grandchildren. He couldn’t even concentrate long enough to contribute to the preparations being made for the vote tomorrow. But upsetting Mama further was not worth the argument.
She left him alone with his tray of food and his turbulent thoughts. He stared at the tray for a good five minutes before downing his tea in three gulps and pushing away from the desk. There was no use procrastinating the inevitable.
A few moments later, he let himself into his father’s room.
“Shut the door behind you,” Father said, setting down a book beside him and adjusting the pillows that propped him into a sitting position.
Ian pushed the door closed and came to stand at the end of the bed, where he folded his arms across his chest. “I’m here. Tell me what pressing chastisements you want to lay at my feet this time.”
Father’s expression turned sheepish. “I have done you a disservice if our only talks are about your misbehavior.”
What was this? An olive branch before the lecture? “No reason to mince words. I have business to attend to.”
Father nodded. “So I have heard.” Ian wasn’t surprised. Father always had people watching his injudicious son. “You plan to vote on changing the criminal law tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“And your wife? Where is she now?”
Ian’s temper flared. “Attending to her own affairs. She is free to do as she pleases.”
Father nodded again. “I know you do not care to hear it, but she has grown on me. You have chosen better for yourself than I ever could.”
Ian smirked. “You must be more unwell than I thought. Do you realize what you said?”
“I do.” Father smoothed his covers. “Your young lady did a hard thing by speaking to me after all I did to frighten her away. I know you did not care for it, but I owe her a great deal for what she told me. She ... she surprised me.”
Ian wasn’t sure where this was going, but he could at least agree with his father’s assessment of Amie. “She is a good person.”
“A good person who loves you very much.”
The very emotion he’d tried so hard to prevent. “I know.”
“And you love her.”
Ian’s jaw flinched.
His father nodded. “You don’t have to admit anything to me. I can see it plainly. But because of me, you deny yourself the chance to tell her. I assume that is what she meant when she said my behavior was affecting you—the reason you swore off marriage for all those years.”
Ian huffed. “I won’t repeat the sins of you and your father.”
“If what you’re speaking of is the rumors of my mistresses, I want to correct you.”
He shook his head. “There is nothing to correct.”
Father clasped his hands together calmly. For once, Ian’s words did not get his guard up. “I won’t put down your mother, but there is something you must know about her that you aren’t aware of. For the sake of salvaging a relationship with you and for the sake of your marriage, I feel compelled to explain.”
“What does this have to do with Mama?” Ian frowned. “I know not what you speak of.”
“For good reason. I have done my best to prevent anyone from knowing. But as you are our son, and this secret is keeping you from living a full life, you must know.”
Ian braced himself, but Father’s face only softened. “Your mother suffers from extreme anxiety in large social settings.”
This was not what Ian had expected. “Mama?” He shook his head. “I have never seen proof of this.” No one was more confident than his mother. She led an army of women in Brookeside and commanded attention everywhere with her regal presence and benevolent attitude.
“I am not wrong. Your mother does not come to London every Season, not because I am unfaithful but because of a terrible experience she suffered from during her coming-out Season. A man tried to take advantage of her, and though she was mostly unharmed, vicious rumors spread. It was enough that even after we married, she was paralyzed in fear at the thought of attending any party or ball.
“It became so severe that London was no longer a viable option for her. Brookeside became her safe haven. The women there eased their way into her life, putting their arms around her and coaxing her into their small society. She started healing, but even after some years away, we both knew that returning to London would not be wise.
“Since that time, your mother has managed a few short visits here and there, but no Society. That she is here now and handled the theater and musical with such strength attests to her years of healing and personal growth.”
Ian couldn’t wrap his head around this tale. He did not know what to make of it.
“So now,” Father continued, “I must correct an untruth. Upon my honor, I have never been unfaithful to your mother. There are no mistresses and never have been. Like you, I swore I would never bear the sins of my father, and I am true to my word.”
Ian needed to sit down. Mind reeling, he reached for the post at the end of the bed and leaned against it. No mistresses? But he’d heard the men talking in the clubs. He’d seen his father leave Mama behind year after year for his own pursuits. Why else would he abandon her in the country and come to Town alone? Mother was no wandering spirit who longed for adventure. She preferred her home because of its comforts. Did she not? “It cannot be true,” he argued. “Any thought of your family is gone the moment you leave for Town. You cannot tell me you spared one thought for my mother all these months away.”
“I do not blame you for your judgments, Ian. Everyone else thought our marriage was troubled, too, and I knew not how to correct them. I determined it was better for them to assume the worst in me than for them to think less of her. I miss your mother when we are apart. When you care for someone as deeply as I do, you are not meant to be separated. Your souls long to be together, as God intended. I was born to responsibilities that require a great deal of sacrifice, and thankfully, your mother supports me as I do her, but it wears on us both.”
Ian had never heard his father discuss such vulnerable feelings openly. The words care , miss , sacrifice , and support were not vocabulary words that matched how Ian imagined his father. “Then, you do love her?”
“Of course I love her,” Father snapped. “It’s one thing to think I’m unfaithful, but how could you ever doubt my love for your mother?”
Ian stared, completely baffled. “Do they not go hand in hand?”
His father glowered. “I suppose one could think that, but it sounds very bad, indeed, coming from your mouth.”
Ian ran his hand through his hair. “I’m at a loss. If I believe you, everything I’ve ever thought about you changes.” Mother had argued Father’s good qualities to Ian for years, but he had refused to believe her. When it came to Father, she was soft, besotted, ignorant. Ian rubbed his temple. Could her devotion be rightfully placed and Ian’s opinion be the one in the wrong?
His father shifted against his pillow. “I admit, I have weaknesses enough. I can be obsessive with work, and I am not the most affectionate of men. My own father saved lives with his donations and public lectures, but he was not a family man. His strict mannerisms were all that were modeled for me, and I assumed your independent nature led you to resent my firm hand.
“I did not think I deserved your ire and long wondered why you loathed me so entirely. Having your wife come and confide in me your reason clarified years of hurt and confusions. Why I couldn’t reach my son suddenly illuminated my mind. To know you thought I hurt your mother—the same way my father hurt my mother—deeply wounds me. I was younger than you when I decried the vileness of such a lifestyle.
“I loved your mother from the moment we wed, and I knew I had to cherish her and protect her with my whole soul. And when you were born, I committed to giving you every opportunity at life and goodness and opportunity. This is why I throw myself into my work, so you might have a legacy worth inheriting. Even as you grew and drew yourself away from me, I vowed to give you all a father should give his only son with the hope that someday you would see my efforts for what they were.”
Father’s chin quivered ever so slightly. “I am sorry you thought the worst of me. I should have recognized the reason sooner. Now perhaps you might think your old man a decent person.”
It was not so much a request as a plea. Father had never asked him so earnestly for anything. He had only ever demanded it. Ian’s gaze darted absently around the room before settling back on his father. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought of you as decent.”
Father sank back against his pillows. “Not a very encouraging start.”
“But it is a start,” Ian said quietly. A start that would require humility and forgiveness and letting go of past hurt. His feelings wouldn’t just disappear in a moment, even with the truth dangling in front of him. The words were still sinking in, but Ian couldn’t doubt his father’s sincerity. He knew Father well enough to know there was no possible way he would fabricate such a tale.
The door opened, and Mama stood within the small gap. Her gaze darted between them, while she worried her bottom lip. “Is it done?”
“It’s done,” Father said, his shoulders drooping.
She sighed and let herself in. “Finally.” Coming up beside Ian, Mama put her hand on his arm. “Oh, my son. If I’d known the reason you despised your father all this time, I would have told you myself. I thought it was merely your headstrong ways and differences of personality.” Her eyes welled up with tears—tears he so rarely saw in his strong mother. “It is hard to admit to a weakness, especially when logically, my fears make little sense.”
His own emotions were stretched thin, and he couldn’t bear to see her struggling. “Mama, I—”
“Don’t, Ian. I must own this trial,” she said, cutting off his pleading. “I have caused this entire family to suffer because of my inadequacy.”
“Not quite, dear,” Father said, his voice softer than Ian had heard it in a long time. “We all have our struggles. You are no less than anyone else.”
“It doesn’t diminish the regret,” she said.
Father sighed. “No, it does not. No one would understand how troubled I was to inherit so young after my father died. Everyone thought I should rejoice in my fortune. We cannot always choose the scars we bear.” Father’s eyes seemed to cradle his mother. “Some choose us and never let go. Just like that cruel day for you, dear, so many years ago. But while our scars affect us, they do not need to consume us. Not anymore. Let it be a lesson to us: We will never stop trying to rise above our circumstances.”
The message struck a chord deep in Ian’s chest. Ian’s scars had been of his own choosing. All this time, his righteous indignation toward his father had felt perfectly justified, but his anger had been the real wedge in his family. His father was still obsessed with his work and a grumpy, controlling man, but then again, so was Ian. His father, however, was not guilty of the many sins Ian had laid at his feet. In fact, he had sacrificed much to support his wife, even bearing unfounded rumors for nearly thirty years. Suddenly, being so much like him didn’t seem so disgusting to Ian.
And Amie ... Never in his life had he considered that he could love someone—truly love someone. But his father had been a good husband, which meant there was hope that Ian could be one too. There was no reason to keep Amie suffering. There was nothing inherently wrong with him that would lead to a senseless lack of control once he truly bound himself to her. He would injure her from time to time with his stupidity, like today, and it would take discipline to put his family before his work. But like his father said, he would never stop trying to rise above his challenges to be better a husband to her. His previous commitment against marriage and against love was years and years in the making, but he would be brave like his father was being right now and start the wheels of change.
The sins of his paternal line no longer touched him as they once had.
Everything would be up to him now. It had likely always been that way, but sometimes, the past was a difficult coat to shed. He had let his cling to him, thinking it a source of protection. It lay at his feet now, freeing him to see hope for the first time.
If it weren’t for Amie, he might not even want that hope. Now he was ready to run toward it.
His mother’s sniffles caught his attention. Ian reached for her hand. “Don’t cry another tear on the matter. You have our full support.”
Mama blinked back the moisture accumulating in her eyes and set her hand on his. “I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you.”
He let himself perch on the edge of the bed, his mental energy spent. “There is a benefit to being born into a stubborn line of men. If we want to change something, we throw our energy into changing it. Today, we can begin anew, and when we misstep—an inevitable eventuality—we will try again tomorrow.”
Father’s mouth softened into a crooked smile, and Ian saw the hint of relief and hope there.
Mama gave a grateful smile of her own. “If you can find it in your heart to let go of the hurt we have caused you, we will want for nothing more.” Her smile faltered. “Except ... except for Amie. Don’t let us come between the two of you. Since the moment I met her at the graveyard, I knew she had a heart as big as yours.”
Ian couldn’t help his amusement. “Is this your way of confessing to your involvement?”
Mama wiped at her tears. “I suppose I owe you an explanation for that too.”
He nodded. “It’s not a surprise if that helps.”
“I didn’t start out intending to find a stranger for you. All of us were feeling the strain and importance of your marrying, but I couldn’t breathe well enough here to think clearly. London has always had that effect on me, and I had to escape it for a moment. When I arrived at the graveyard, I thought talking things over with your grandfather would help me make sense of the obligation you and your father carry to the family and the title. I didn’t expect my nerves to follow me there. I was a splendid wreck, and I needed a friend desperately. No sooner had I wished for someone than Amie came right up to me and offered me a small bouquet of flowers.”
“She never told me.” Amie was always generous and thoughtful, but knowing she had served his mother touched him deeply.
A smile hovered on his mother’s mouth. “Amie was an angel to me when I needed one. I had hoped something would come of that day, because our meeting felt orchestrated by heaven itself, but I must give Mrs. Tyler her share of the credit. I merely planted an idea, and she masterfully executed it.”
“An idea?”
“I told her that the good name of Lord Reynolds would be at her disposal should she need it.”
Ian sputtered a laugh and turned to his father. “Your wife is responsible for Amie and me being together. What do you say to that?”
He shrugged. “Your mother is a wise woman. She was smart not to tell me about it until I could see the truth for myself. It is clear she has far better taste than I, though I’ve often wondered what she sees in me.”
Mama let go of Ian’s hand and went to his father, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I saw a good man intent on changing the world for the better, and the love of my life. I kept this little secret from you because I knew you were in one of your moods where you had a point to prove.”
“I’m never in one of those moods,” Father teased, reaching for Mama’s hands.
As sweet as the turn in conversation was, it was too private for Ian’s taste. He was still processing this new revelation and had a lot to work through. “On that note, I shall take my leave.” He had something very important to do. A thrum of anticipation pulsed through him, urging him to act straightaway. “I need to find Amie.”
“Please do,” Mama said. “Kiss her for us.”
He nodded and proceeded to the door.
“Son?”
The single word stopped him. Ian turned and faced his father. “Yes?”
“I’ve written to my colleagues about your criminal law proposal. I’m duly impressed by your ideas.”
“Truly?” A letter from his father could go a long way, though Ian had sworn to never ask for it.
Father nodded. “Ian ...” He hesitated. “I’m bumbling this, but I want you to know I’ve never been more proud of you. I should have told you a long time ago, but I’ve never been one to talk about feelings. When a man faces death, it makes him regret a few things. So I want to wish you luck with your work and new marriage. Something I should have done a long time ago.”
The relief on his father’s face was evident, as if each word had cost him but unburdened him. And the effort had been worth everything to Ian.
Ian’s eyes stung, and he blinked furiously. “Thank you, Father. That means a lot.” So much so that he suddenly felt taller, greater, and more capable. All because of the love of his father. A love he had not felt for as long as he could remember.