Chapter 29 #2
“Victor, we must make this situation right. We have found John’s mother, and do you not agree that John deserves to be with his rightful parents?”
“I…” He paused. Everything was happening so quickly yet again.
He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands.
“This evening has illuminated many surprises. I suppose we must at least tell Harry and then continue from there. But Juliet could have told us sooner. She could have come to our doorstep.”
“And risked being shunned? After the way you treated her, how could she ever be certain that you would show her kindness?”
“She was with child. I would have done something.”
“You might have offered her an allowance, security in exchange for silence. Would you have told your brother, though?” Lydia asked, and when confronted with this question, Victor could not bring himself to utter the answer. It didn’t matter; they both knew what his answer would have been anyway.
The rest of the journey was made in silence with Victor forced to reflect upon his judgments and decisions, evaluating what it meant to protect his family.
Upon reaching the townhouse, they were ready to alight from the carriage, but before they did Lydia put a hand on his arm. It was a most unanticipated gesture. This light touch was more tender than what her earlier outpouring of hostile emotion foreshadowed.
“I do owe you an apology as well, Victor. I should have taken you at your word when you told me that you were not John’s father and did not engage in an affair.”
Victor frowned.
“Is that why you were so adamant about attending the play, because you thought I was enmeshed with Juliet Fane?”
Lydia blushed, confirming his suspicions.
“It seems as though we both made mistaken assumptions regarding love affairs, but I am glad I did seek her out as otherwise we might never have known. Now, let us go and speak with Lord Harry, and please, Victor, be gentle with him. There is no need to have an argument.”
Victor took a deep breath. In this matter, he was inclined to think that Lydia was right.
After all, she had shown great wisdom when it came to handling interpersonal matters while he had only failed.
In other areas of life such as banking, law, or medicine, he took advice from those who had expertise.
The same principle should stand here as well, he thought.
So he followed Lydia out of the carriage and into the townhouse, preparing for a reckoning, almost afraid to think about what other wonders the world might have in store for him.
Harry was sitting in a study with a bottle of port beside him and a book open in his lap. He glanced up and gave them a strange look.
“Lord Harry, please put the book away. We need to speak to you,” Lydia said, striding into the room with purpose.
“Should we check on John?” Victor asked weakly.
“There is no sense in delaying this matter,” Lydia said, turning her head sharply to Victor as she spoke and then back again to his younger brother. Harry leaned forward, closing the book and placing it on the floor beside him.
“I say, what’s happened? You both look so serious,” he said.
“Tonight, we attended a play, Lord Harry. Juliet Fane was performing. I saw her. I spoke to her,” Lydia said.
Victor watched his brother carefully. Harry blinked quickly. At first, he went pale then color quickly returned to his cheeks. Then, he leaned forward and perched on his chair, as though he was ready to leap up. His fingers dug into the leather upholstery, making a gentle squeak.
“Juliet? How… how is she?” he asked in a faltering breath.
“Unfortunately, she is not in the best spirits, for there has been a great upheaval in her life as there will be in yours. I invited her to come to the house tomorrow, so if you have any business arranged then, you should cancel it,” Lydia continued.
“Here? But… Victor?” Harry twitched, looking perplexed.
Lydia gazed at Victor expectantly. “I think it is only fitting that you should tell him,” she said.
Victor gnawed on his lower lip.
“Tell me what?” Harry asked. A moment of silence passed. Harry pushed himself up from the chair, turning his body to face Victor. A sharper edge appeared in his voice. “Tell me what, Victor?”
Victor’s name snapped in the air, brittle and harsh, two syllables that were broken apart like a rotten piece of wood. Victor gazed into his brother’s eyes, and he could see all the hurt he had caused, all the pain and anguish that he had tried to justify, but now, it all seemed entirely weak.
“You’re the father,” Victor muttered. The words felt like marbles in his mouth, and it was all he could do to spit them out. His throat was raw afterwards. He massaged it with his hand, and he had the strange sensation that he was being choked.
Harry still looked confused.
“What?” he asked again.
“You’re the father. The boy. John. He’s yours,” Victor said plainly.
Again, Harry’s expression transformed. All of the anger that was directed towards Victor suddenly vanished, and it was replaced by bewilderment.
He fell back, almost missing the chair, but at the last second, his free arm shot out so he could steady himself.
He dragged himself back to the chair and brought his glass of port to his lips although he was too stunned to drink it.
“Juliet had your child, Lord Harry,” Lydia said and then described the main points of the situation to Victor’s brother. “She can tell you more of the details herself tomorrow although we all thought it best for you to learn the truth now. She’s afraid that you will be angry with her.”
“Angry? No… no… I could never be angry with her…” Harry said.
Then, his expression twisted. “But you,” he snarled, the dark gaze swinging around and falling upon Victor.
Harry’s face became gruesome, like some horrid inhuman monster who was stripped of civility.
He hurled his glass onto the floor. It smashed, and the dark port stained the rug like blood.
Harry marched menacingly towards Victor and grabbed both his hands.
“Look at what you did. Can you see what a monster you are? You took away my chance for a family. And what of Juliet? Think about all she must have endured… how scared she would have been. She had to go through this all by herself!” His rage intensified as he thought of his beloved.
“You are no brother of mine. I should kill you,” Harry said.
The words came rolling out of him in hot waves.