The Wedding Game(64)

*

They arrived at the building and climbed the stairs to his rooms. There, they were greeted at the door by a manservant who directed them to a small parlour overlooking the street. Mrs Lovell was so fascinated by the crowds of people on the street below them that she did not notice the arrival of her son.

Ben stood in the doorway, staring at the woman on the sofa as if he could not quite believe what he was seeing. Amy waited in silence to see his reaction. Though he had given her the facts she needed to bring this reunion about, he had not requested that she return with his mother and risk tarring her with the brush of scandal.

The lady shifted in her seat, turning to face the door at the sound of his gasp.

‘Mother.’ For a moment, the reserved fa?ade disappeared and he looked like the young Cottsmoor. He had become a boy again, his desire for independence at war with the urge to return to the comfort of his mother’s embrace. Then the Benjamin Lovell she knew returned and he strode forward, pulling the woman out of her chair and enveloping her in his arms, pressing his dry cheek to her wet one, offering comfort instead of taking it.

As he hugged her, his features contorted in pain. Then the expression faded and he was at peace, his eyes closed tight, as if trying to freeze the moment and keep it for ever in memory.

‘Benjamin,’ his mother sobbed. ‘It has been so long.’

‘I am so sorry,’ he whispered back. ‘Sorry for what I said, when we argued. When I left you, I did not think it would be forever. But there was a reason I could not leave.’

‘The Duchess,’ she said, making a face.

‘No.’ He leaned close to whisper in his mother’s ear.

Her face relaxed in an understanding smile. ‘It is hard for a boy to become a man without a father to teach him.’

‘A boy needs both his parents,’ he said, in a ragged voice. ‘A mother and a father. I never should have left you.’

‘It is all right,’ she said, patting his hand. ‘And look at you now.’ She held him away from her to admire him. ‘Tall and handsome. Wealthy and educated. That is what a mother wants for her son, to see him do well.’

‘But I left you behind,’ he said, sounding again like the boy she had lost. ‘And the things I did to make my future... I am no longer worthy to be your son.’

Amy bit her lip to keep from speaking. He had become so much more than he had been. But, even though he had reconciled with his mother, there were still so many things he could never admit to the world.

‘It is all in the past,’ Mrs Lovell said in a soothing voice. ‘If there is a penance, by now you have paid it tenfold. Forgive yourself as I forgave you, years ago.’ Then she kissed him upon the forehead as one might when putting a child to sleep.

His shoulders slumped, but it was in acceptance, not defeat. Then he straightened again, and he seemed even taller than he had been, as if the shame that had weighted him down was gone. When he turned back to Amy, he looked different, as well. The grim determination behind his smile was gone, replaced by a lightness of spirit that she had not seen in him before.

She wanted to go to him, to have him hold her and tell her that his mind was as free as his heart. She wanted to know that he loved her and wanted her, just as he had claimed to before. But now he needed to be with the woman he loved, but hadn’t seen in years.

Amy rose to excuse herself. ‘You must have much to talk about.’ As she turned to go, she kept her eyes downcast, not wanting him to see her longing for reassurance.

‘Wait.’ He leaned forward to whisper into his mother’s ear again and Amy saw her smile. Then he rose. ‘Let me escort you out, Miss Summoner.’

She responded with a nod of thanks and an attempt at a smile to hide her disappointment. Was she to be Miss Summoner again?

He laid a hand on her shoulder, shepherding her to the door. ‘Thank you.’ His voice was warm, friendly. But there was no trace of the passion she had heard in it when last they’d parted.

‘I didn’t do it to help you,’ she reminded him.

‘I know. But the reason does not matter. It is the good that that has come from your actions. I, of all people, must believe that. All that has happened has happened for the best.’

‘But your son,’ she whispered. ‘Without knowing, my father might have announced the truth to the world.’

‘I have no son,’ Ben said, the regret returning to his eyes. ‘Cottsmoor did. When he claimed him, I lost all right.’

‘But to live a lie...’ she said, shaking her head.

‘As you did for your sister,’ he reminded her. ‘It was shared guilt that drew us together.’

‘I have no regret,’ she insisted.

‘But perhaps you should,’ he whispered. ‘You know now who I really am.’ He shook his head in amazement. ‘I am sorry for the burden of secrecy I have placed on you, even if it is to one other person. I cannot explain what a gift that it is to have told the truth.’

Words of gratitude were sweet. But they were not what she was seeking from him. Where was the love he’d whispered about in the dark?

Perhaps, as she had always thought, the word meant something different to a man. Perhaps she had misunderstood. Or perhaps she had given him something today that he wanted more than he could ever want her: confession, forgiveness and absolution.