Page 7 of The Lady No One Noticed

“Oh, Ian, I am so happy for you,” his mother exclaimed, her beautiful face wreathed in a smile. “Can I tell Adam?” She asked, turning slightly to motion towards his younger brother, who was sitting on her other side.

“Of course!” Ian answered and turned back toward his beloved.

The dinner passed uneventfully. Lord Cunhington suggested the men retire to his study for a round of cigars and port rather than staying at the table after the ladies left. Ian stood up with a smile, knowing this was the perfect moment to approach his future father-in-law.

Adam suddenly came up behind Ian and whispered, "Can I speak to you out in the garden?"

Ian turned to look at his brother’s face, for his tone had seemed urgent. “Of course, is anything amiss?” Ian asked instinctively, worrying for his younger sibling.

“I just need to have a word with you in private,” Adam replied.

“All right,” Ian said before pivoting and going out the French doors onto the paved terrace. The night was fine, with the moon full and the stars sparkling brightly. The pair ambled for a few moments on the pebbled pathways meandering through abundant flowers and bushes. Ian thought he might bring Lisa out to this very spot when he proposed, it was so lovely.

“So, what did you need to discuss? I must admit I am a bit pressed for time as I have an import conversation to have with the viscount,” Ian said, turning to look at Adam, whose face had grown ashen. Ian could sense a hesitation in his posture which was very unlike Adam. The brothers were only two years apart and had been close since childhood. They had never been afraid to talk to one another. “Adam, you are scaring me. Is something wrong?” Ian asked again, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Adam began after taking a deep breath, his tone low. "I’m sorry. That is why I asked to talk to you now." He paused, clenching his jaw, and averting his eyes.

“Whatever it is, Adam, we will face it together. I am your brother and will always be here for you,” Ian said encouragingly. He loved Adam with all his heart and would do anything to help him.

Adam squared his shoulders and looked Ian right in the eye, although Ian could see they still held some anxiety. “I need you to understand that what happened was not planned. We never expected our feelings to get away from us, and it was never our intention to hurt you, Ian,” Adam said quickly as if he needed to get the words out before he lost his nerve then paused.

Ian scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, still unable to understand what Adam was trying to say.

“Adam, please get on with it. Have you gotten yourself into a spot of trouble with a woman?” Ian asked, his tone growing impatient.

“No, not of the sort you are referring to, at least," Adam said, his eyes again downcast. "Lady Lisa and I have fallen in love and have been meeting secretly throughout the Season. We met accidentally one day in the park, and the spark ignited immediately, and we had no control over it. I have wanted to confess to you for weeks but could not bring myself to. But mother told me of your intention to propose to Lisa tonight, and I could stay silent no longer. Lisa and I wish to marry, Ian,” Adam lifted his eyes then, the agony of his confession showing in them.

Ian stood staring at his brother as if Adam had gone mad. How could the two people he loved most in the world betray him in such a way? Every word Ian had uttered settled upon his heart like a pile of bricks. He felt his limbs grow weak, and his tongue refused to form any kind of response.

“Please say something. Heap insults upon my head. Strike me in the face. Anything,” Adam said begged, but Ian had nothing to say. Words had escaped him, and all he was left with was the shards of his broken heart stabbing him in the chest. His world had collapsed in an instant, and he was powerless to stop it.

Ian turned around without speaking and left the Cunhington Mansion, not even pausing to take leave of his hosts or his parents. That had been the last time he had seen his traitorous brother or the lovely Lisa. He had assiduously avoided any events where they might be in attendance from that night on.

“Ian, are you listening to me?” He was brought back to the present by his mother’s soft touch, and he blinked quickly to keep the onslaught of emotions at bay. Every time the memory of that wretched night came to his mind, he fought to forget it.

“Yes, Mama, I am. I know you and father are correct, and I promise you that I will not do anything else that might embarrass you. Just please don’t ask me to get married,” Ian pleaded, willing for his parents to understand.

“You have been embroiled in countless affairs over the years. Each one more audacious than the last. You have engaged in high stakes gambling and dangerous carriage races. Every time your name comes up, people whisper about your rakish ways. I have tolerated the taunts of the ton, knowing that you were hurting. But I cannot do so any longer. You will find yourself a wife during the Season, and that is that.” His father stated in the unequivocal tone that Ian knew would be impossible to fight against.

Seeing no way out, Ian sighed in. “Yes, Father."

“Good. You will be staying at Gilendale Manor in London with us.” His father held up his hand to stifle the protest that Ian was about to utter and continued, "I know that you have enjoyed your bachelor rooms, but it is better for you to return home. It will be easier to resist temptation when living under your mother's roof, I would imagine."

“I am too old to live at home, Father,” Ian replied, trying to keep his anger in check. He was in no position to negotiate in the matter, yet he still tried.

“Yes, you are, son, but after the latest events I feel the need to monitor your behavior,” Lucas intoned dryly and went back to his seat.

Ian had nothing more to say on the matter, so he politely took his leave. He stalked to his study in a full temper but knew that he was powerless to disobey his father. He would be attending the Season on the hunt for a wife.

Ian walked inside White’s. He was dressed smartly in a superfine cobalt coat over a silver embroidered waistcoat. He had reached London a couple days ago and was finally settled in at the Gilendale Manor with his parents. He had taken the time to have his whiskers removed, and his chestnut locks trimmed and was looking as dashing as ever. He once again looked like a respectable gentleman of the ton and more appropriately the Marquess of Ilenshire, the heir to a prominent and wealthy dukedom.

“My Lord, what a pleasure it is to have you return to our club at last,” the host remarked as soon as Ian entered. He looked around and noticed White’s hadn’t changed much in the past few years. The interior was still decorated with the same dark tones. The scents of brandy and sweet tobacco hung in the air, and the same gentleman sat in overstuffed chairs reading newspapers or conversing about horses.

“Thank you, I am delighted to be back,” Ian replied graciously. He was indeed happy to be there. He enjoyed the club and wished to make his first appearance in London society there.

“Will you be playing tonight, My Lord?” A genial attendant, asked motioning towards the tables occupied by gentlemen playing whist and other genteel card games.

“Not tonight. I'd like a whisky, please,” Ian answered and walked to a place by the windows. To his surprise, he found a familiar face seated in the chair opposite.