The Solemn Bell

Brody stayed with her as long as he could, but the servants were up by six, and he had needed to be gone by then. He didn’t want to shame Angelica—they were lucky enough that no one had walked in on them in the library. The last thing he wanted was for a servant to catch him bed-hopping.


At eight-o’clock, Father and Marcus were downstairs at breakfast. He’d almost forgot they weren’t going to the office today. Cynthia and Peter would be arriving soon to help Mary Rose prepare for her party, and the whole family would be there to greet them.

Hopefully, he’d find time to sneak off with Angelica between festivities.

He grabbed a plate and served himself breakfast. “Morning.”

“Good morning, Brody,” Marcus said.

Father mumbled some greeting from behind his copy of the Times. “Does that girl come down in the mornings?”

“Who?” Brody knew who. He glared at his father over his eggs.

“Miss Grey.”

“She did yesterday,” he said, taking a bite. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Broderick. Don’t be coy.”

“What? I never had breakfast with her before yesterday. But, I imagine she’ll be down eventually. And what do you mean by ‘don’t be coy’? Are you implying something about my relationship with the lady?”

The old man folded his newspaper, giving Brody his full attention. “If I were, would I be wrong?”

He shook his head. “Angelica is a good girl, Father—far too good for me.”

“While I don’t disagree with you there, I tell you, I take offense to your bringing a kept woman into this house. To your sister’s birthday celebration, no less. What were you thinking?”

“She’s not a kept woman. She’s my girl, and terribly dear to me. And, if you really must know, I am thinking—quite seriously—of asking her to marry me.”

His father took the folded newspaper, and smacked Brody across the head with it. “You idiot! You fool! You’re determined to cock up everything, aren’t you? How can you even think of marrying? You’ve no future, no job.”

He sat silently while Father bashed him about the head. It was easier to let the old man get it out of his system than try to fight or reason with him. Brody simply steeled his temper and his resolve, and waited for his father to take a breath.

“As for Miss Grey,” Father continued, “She has no family, no income. I cannot support you forever, and I certainly cannot afford to bankroll you and your wife. She’ll need a home and servants. Someone to be with her ‘round the clock. How will you support her if you cannot leave her side? For once in your life, Broderick, think things through.”

“Let me be sure I understand—your only issue with her is the lack of money, correct? Not her lack of sight?”

His father grunted, as usual. “A blind wife would be convenient, if you ask me. But you cannot keep her.”

“You’re being incredibly unfair, Father. I’m trying to do the responsible thing, grow up and settle down. I’ve given up the flat in London. Even if I married Angelica, we could live cheaply somewhere else—she has a home of her own, you know—and still save money in the end.”

Even Marcus looked uncomfortable. This was a waking nightmare. It could not be happening…

Their father had always threatened to cut Brody off, but never actually done it. What he hadn’t earned from the army, Father had always supplied—the motorcars, the flats, the morphine, everything. Now, the old man had Brody’s back against the wall.

“Until now, I’ve given you everything you’ve asked for. I’ve spoiled you, my boy. You think you can bat your eyes and I’ll just accept some unknown girl as your wife. I tell you, I won’t do it. If you really want to show me how responsible you can be, find a suitable girl with a dowry, or at least a family willing to support you. It cannot be hard—you’re a decent looking chap, and we need never mention your…troubles. Choose wisely, and you might even find a girl willing to let you keep Miss Grey, discreetly, of course. Either way, this is the last I want to hear about her. Am I clear, Broderick?”

Brody wasn’t hungry anymore. He downed his coffee in one gulp and pushed his chair back. “I do love our talks, Father.” He shot an angry glare across the table at his worthless brother. “Good morning, Markie.”

He wanted to cry. He wanted to drop to the floor and weep like a child. Instead, Brody fled the dining room before his father could see how much he’d hurt him. The old man was a fool to think, even for a moment, that his son would settle for a wife who did not love him.

Thank God, Brody caught Angelica on the stairs. He couldn’t imagine watching her sit through breakfast, knowing what he knew. Pretending that everything was going to be all right, when his father had just smashed their hopes and dreams into bits.

He couldn’t let her know what had happened.

She looked stunning in her dusty blue frock. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her, but his father’s warning weighed heavy on his heart. “Get your coat and hat. We’re going for a drive.”

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