“Really? Now who would have thought that there were such titles in Scotland in that date?” Mrs. Felton exclaimed. “Or that Edward found his way to such an outlandish place? I thought the country was full of Picts at that time. Warriors with blue paint on their faces.”
“Actually, my father’s title is English,” Tess explained. “We were raised in Scotland, but King Henry VI granted the title of viscount.”
“Very proper indeed, I am sure,” Mrs. Felton said, her gaze seeming to warm slightly. “And I am truly happy to welcome you into the family. Dearest.” She leaned toward her, again seeming to ignore the presence of her silent husband and son. “Perhaps between the two of us we can hatch up a plan to return my son to a place of respectability in the ton.”
Tess blinked uncertainly.
“You are aware, are you not?” she said. “My son’s activities have been the bane of my existence for years now.” There was a distinct note of horror in her voice. “Stocks and so forth,” she said, lowering her voice as if the very subject were indelicate. “Blood will tell. My father always said it, and he was right.”
“Blood?” Tess repeated.
Mrs. Felton shook her head sadly, leaning even closer to Tess. “Surely you’ve noticed how seriously he takes commerce? As if it isn’t good enough for a gentleman to live by rents, as has always been the case in my family. Why, if you believed my son, you’d think that Mr. Felton and I were dependent on his generosity.”
“We are dependent on our son’s generosity,” said Mr. Felton.
Once again, they all jumped at the sound of his voice.
Mr. Felton was still standing behind his wife’s chair. One hand was clenched on the back of her throne, and the other held a glass of liquor. He was looking straight at Lucius, ignoring his wife and daughter-in-law.
Mrs. Felton laughed, not bothering to turn her head and meet her husband’s eyes. “That small unpleasantness, far in the past, has been made too much of, Mr. Felton.”
“The unpleasantness, as you call it, continues month by month,” her husband said, still looking at his son.
Tess was bewildered. Lucius was frowning at his father.
Mrs. Felton rose from her chair and turned to Tess with her charming smile. “May I show you the portraits of my ancestors, my dears? After all, this house will be yours someday. I have a magnificent portrait of the Earl of Devonshire with the countess, my mother.”
“You allowed, Mrs. Felton, that subjects may be aired amongst us that are more intimate than might be discussed amongst strangers,” her husband said.
“I’m afraid that we must leave,” Lucius said. “I’m certain that Tess would be more than pleased to take up your invitation at some other time, Mother.” Tess could tell from the wintry look in his eye that his father had seriously enraged him…somehow.
“As long as your wife understands our precise obligation to you,” Mr. Felton said, still staring at his son. “I have allowed all of London to believe the worst of you, but I will not countenance a misunderstanding within the family.”
“The merest trifle!” Mrs. Felton said, her affable voice taking on a shrill note. “A trifling assistance some years ago. And yet—”
Mr. Felton spoke over her, turning to Tess. “When Lucius—my son Lucius—was in his final year at Oxford, we came near to running aground. We were living above our means and that money from rents—well, there was nothing to rent anymore. No land.”
Mrs. Felton was opening her mouth like a fish out of water.
“My son came down from Oxford for a matter of two months, and in that time he made so much money on the market that he paid my debts and financed the rest of his education.”
“There was no need for recounting the past!” Mrs. Felton snapped. Her face was turning purplish.
“We would have been ruined,” Mr. Felton continued, ignoring his wife. “Utterly bankrupt. Since then, Lucius has supported us. He paid the mortgages on our estate in the country. And how do we repay him?” He looked at his wife’s head. She had turned away from him and was staring rigidly toward the windows. “All London knows of the breach between us.”
“You exaggerate, as always, Mr. Felton. My husband,” she said to Tess, “is far too sensitive for his own good. He is not a gentleman at heart. Those of our rank do not become ruined. That is something that occurs to commoners. We simply continue as we have always continued. The tradesmen are perfectly willing to wait for a time before they are paid, in return for the honor of our patronization.”
Lucius held up a hand. He was taller than either of his parents, and far, far, more beautiful, Tess thought. He stood between them like a fine-grained version of his mother, her almost grotesque slenderness turned to his muscled grace; his father’s shrunken prettiness become his masculine beauty.
“My wife and I are most grateful that you invited us to the house, Mother,” he said, turning to her. “But I should not wish to outwear our welcome. I know that Tess will be most happy to return another day and take tea with you.” He tucked Tess’s hand under his arm.
She hadn’t said anything for the last ten minutes and couldn’t think what to say now, until his fingers tightened on her arm in a warning fashion. At which point, she dropped a curtsy, a bit lopsided due to Lucius’s grasp, and managed to say that it had been a true pleasure.
Chapter 38
T hey didn’t say a word on the way to their own house. Once inside the antechamber, when Smiley was taking Tess’s pelisse and bonnet, Lucius bowed, and said, “If you will forgive me, I shall—”
“Oh, no!” Tess said, reaching out and grabbing his sleeve as he was about to melt away to his study.Smiley prudently retired through the baize door, carrying their outer garments. Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Hasn’t there been enough revelation for one day?”
Tess ignored this foolishness, opening the door to the drawing room and waiting for him to join her.
“I would rather not discuss my parents,” he said, walking across the room away from her. “I am certain that you were able to gain a clear understanding of our relationship from our meeting this morning. I know that family is very important to you, Tess, and if you wish me to continue visiting them, I shall.”
Tess watched his back. “But I would like to talk about your parents now,” she said, perfectly agreeably. She was counting on Lucius’s exquisite manners.
“Very well.” He turned about and waited. He wasn’t going to make this easy; his face was as expressionless as she had ever seen it.
“There are merely a few things that I would like to clarify,” she said, perching on the armrest of a settee. “Your mother has an extraordinary interest in titles and matters of consequence, does she not?”
“Yes.”
“I would guess that she owns a Debrett’s Peerage and reads it regularly?”
“Of course.”
“Then she already knew my father’s title is both English and ancient,” Tess said.
He bent his head. “Your surmise is quite likely correct. I’m afraid that my mother takes some pleasure in baiting visitors.”
“One more question…I just want to make certain that my understanding is correct. You returned from Oxford and made the necessary funds to save your family from immediate destitution.”