is your ‘talent’ that advances you, as indicated by your recent accomplishment.” He lifted the letter of acceptance from the Conservatoire still clutched in his hand. “Have you not adequately proven yourself?”
Sebastian did not respond, Lord Essenton finally smiling and handing the parchment to him. “I suggest we attempt a compromise to end these futile hostilities.”
“What sort of compromise?”
“I will no longer express my derision for this course, will even congratulate you and boast of your endeavors. All I ask is your renewed promise to complete your education as swiftly as possible without any distractions delaying your progress. You said one year was the typical enrollment at the Conservatoire?”
“One is minimal, three years at most.”
“Very good, then! Three years I shall extend with not a hint of disagreement.”
“If?”
“If you assume your title while here, as an acknowledgment of who you are and assurance to me that you do recognize what is most important. Then return home to learn from me and assume your place, marry immediately, and safely secure an heir.” His voice fell, the tone tender and sincere. “You must try to understand how vital this is, Sebastian.”
They stared at each other in lengthening silence, for the first time in ages both of them quashing their prejudices and ingrained enmity to examine the topic scrupulously.
Sebastian spoke first. “Very well, sir. I agree. With my own caveat. I will marry, but on my own terms and of my own choosing. And it will not be Lady Cassandra! On that point I will never compromise.”
Lord Essenton smiled as he extended his hand. “We can decide on the appropriate lady of nobility at a later date, although Lady Cassandra’s charms may alter your opinion in due time.”
Sebastian shuddered even as he shook his father’s hand. “She has no charms, Father, which is why you are so certain she will remain unattached until I return. Unless you count her dowry as a charm, as I suspect you do, but clearly that is insufficient for me or any other man in England.”
“She is waiting for you specifically, Sebastian. But,” he spoke louder to forestall Sebastian’s rebuttal, “we do not need to talk about it now. For the present, we can turn our hearts to another marriage. Vivienne, I hear the dresses arrived today?”
And he walked to his daughter, peace and gaiety gradually seeped in and displaced the tension. Sebastian shook off his warring emotions slowly. His heart wanted to believe his father sincere and finally willing to relinquish his animosity. But somehow he knew it would not be that simple.
***
The perfunctory knock and rushed entrance of Lord Essenton before a verbal invitation was given did not surprise Lady Essenton. Under the circumstances, she had expected him to visit that evening. She knew her arrogant husband would go to his grave without ever admitting it, but he inevitably sought her when he was irritated or distraught. One might suppose that fact gave her comfort. Knowing that he probably did not share his innermost thoughts with his two mistresses—the two she was aware of that is—or his favorite girls at the London brothel he frequented should have been some solace. Unfortunately, this was not the case.
She stifled a sigh and stood from the chair she sat curled in, dropping a proper curtsy as he approached. “My lord husband, I am honored to welcome you into my bedchamber. Would you like anything besides your brandy?”
She indicated the glass of amber liquid he held in his hand, but he shook his head. “Nothing now. I want to discuss Sebastian with you.” He dropped into the chair she had recently vacated, on purpose she knew, and swept a hand to the other identical chair across from the ottoman. “Sit, woman,” he commanded, following it with a large swallow of brandy.
Lady Essenton complied, sitting docilely on the edge. “Conversation is always agreeable, my lord. I am at your service