Eternally Yours: Roxton Letters Volume 1 by Lucinda Brant Read Free Book Online Page B

from her side, not even to visit Alston, who remains locked up in his rooms, refused all contact with family or servant.
    And can you blame my brother, when it was he who returned to the horrific sight of his dearest darling Antonia being dragged into the winter night air in her night attire, out into the square, by her son. Her son, Lucian! Not a fiend, or a criminal, or an escapee from Bedlam. But her most precious eldest son, whom she worships almost as much as she does her husband! Yes, it is true I tell you. Her son, my nephew, Alston dragged her from her rooms and down the stairs and out into the night! He cast her out of the house and into the streets, as if she were a whore not worth his spit. And that is what he said to her. Accusing her of being a bawd, and that the child she carried as being the bastard offspring of her lover. My God, can you believe he accused his mother of adultery? Antonia, of all women on this earth? She the beauty of her age who is so utterly devoted to my brother, a reformed satyr, that they have been the butt of many a ridiculous cartoon not fit to print—but print it they do! I tell you, Lucian, such disgusting drawings would never be printed in Paris! At least France has a secret police to protect us! But I am rambling, but who can blame me?
    No one, not I, not the Duchess’s physician, not the faithful family retainers, not even his godfather M’sieur Ellicott, who had come up to London to be present for the birth in a few weeks’ time, could tell Alston any different about his mother. At first we were all too shocked by his behavior and his actions to speak. And then it was almost too late to save Antonia from his wrath, when he pulled her after him, down the stairs and out into the night air! And that darling girl did not utter a syllable against him. I think she too was so shocked she lost the facility of speech.
    He was drunk, Lucian. He was so drunk and full of angry tear-filled rage that it would not have mattered what Antonia or the rest of us had said to him, because he was incapable of listening to anyone or anything. He was as one blind to his outrageous behavior, and blind to the fact his mother had gone into labor. He had her by the arm and was shaking her, calling her the most appalling names and demanding of her who was her lover and the father of her bastard, and in such a rage that we were truly frightened he meant to hit her! Just the thought of it makes me faint!
    And then, as if from nowhere, Roxton he was there! My brother, just returned from White’s, came out of the darkness. He strode up to his son with all the energy and strength of a man half his age, such was his rage, and I do not doubt fuelled with fear for Antonia. He saw and heard no one but the outrageous scene presented to his shocked gaze.
    Thank God he is ever the cool-headed one in a crisis. He did the only thing left to him. The only thing none of the servants, not Antonia, not I, or his family would do. He grabbed his son by the scruff of the neck and pulled him off his mother. He then gave him such a backhanded slap that it knocked the boy off his feet! Stunned, he crumpled to the cobblestones. And it was only then that it came to him what he had done, and what he might have done, to his mother and her unborn child. And then Alston he let out such a howl it was as if a wounded animal had come amongst us.
    Antonia she fell into M’sieur le Duc’s arms. And within the blink of an eye, as only Roxton’s presence can command, everyone was quiet and everything still. The chaos and the madness it was over with! My brother scooped Antonia up into his arms and marched indoors, leaving his son sprawled on the filthy cobbles, sobbing.
    It was only then that our son he appeared out from the darkness, too, and with him his school friend Robert. They were sheepish but not afraid, and very drunk! Both boys were seized upon by Roxton’s servants, and despite my protests, despite my tears, all three boys were