The Mirror Mage | ONC2022

2. Revelations

(Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to lhansenauthor and her engaging story, Outrider - A Paranormal Regency Romance. Another story set in this fascinating period of history, full of atmosphere and adventure with a paranormal twist.)

Lucian needed some air. The heat, the cloying scent of too many perfumes in a confined space, was making his head spin. How much longer would this night drag on? Normally, he enjoyed a ball as much as anyone, but not tonight. As soon as the dance was finished, he led his partner to her seat and then excused himself.

Slipping outside to the terrace, he sucked in deep breaths of the cold night air. The full moon illuminated the landscape, picking out the avenue of newly planted elm trees along the drive and casting shadows on the rose garden. Lucian felt himself slowly growing calmer and his breath steadied. He rubbed his forehead to relieve some of the tension. This was his home. It was worth making a few sacrifices for, wasn't it?

He only just heard the footsteps behind him before an arm was flung around his shoulders.

"So," said Charlie, giving him a shake. "I hear congratulations are in order. When were you going to tell me?"

"What?" Lucian couldn't think what Charlie was talking about. The feel of his arm around his shoulders was distracting.
"The Lawrence chit?"

"Yes?"

"Have you made her an offer?"

"What? No!"

"But you intend to, right?"

Lucian gave an irritated shrug. "I haven't made up my mind."

"Well, if you're not careful, you'll find yourself in the parson's mousetrap before you can blink. I overheard your mother telling mine she was expecting an interesting announcement any day."

"What fudge! She had no right to say that." Lucian felt furious.

"Maybe so, but if you ask me, she's trying to push you into it! Once that rumour takes flight, you'll feel obliged. The girl's been gently reared. Any sort of scandal would damage her chances with anyone else."

The colour drained from Lucian's face. "Damn it all, Charlie! I fear you have the right of it."

"Would that be so bad?" asked Charlie, trying to make the best of things. "At least she doesn't have a squint like the Maybury chit. And she seems biddable enough, not likely to kick up a fuss if you find a ladybird once you're wed."

"Is that all we can hope for?" Lucian protested.

Charlie shrugged. "People in our circles are rarely lucky enough to marry for love. We may honour and cherish our wives but we tend to find our love outside marriage."

"I suppose you're right," agreed Lucian, feeling thoroughly depressed.

"If you really don't want to marry the gal, you need to tell your mother to button her lip before it's too late. Now, where's that brandy? I think we deserve another drink."

Lucian was never certain how he got through the rest of that night, but he did. Much as he longed to take his mother aside and make his wishes plain in no uncertain terms, that was going to have to wait until the morning. He couldn't possibly make a scene in the middle of their own ball.

Eventually, the last guest departed just before dawn.

"Mother, a word if you please." Lucian caught up with his mother at the foot of the stairs. Her hair was still impeccably dressed but her face showed lines he hadn't seen before.

"Can't it wait, Lucian? T'was a long night and I'm a little weary. I was about to seek my chambers."

"It concerns Miss Lawrence," continued Lucian, pushing ahead regardless. "I hear you are telling your friends we are about to become betrothed. Can that possibly be true? You know it isn't so."

"Is it not? Perhaps you haven't asked her yet, but I'm certain, when you think about it carefully, you'll realise it's your best option. After all, it's not as if you have anyone else in mind, is it?"

"Not at the moment, that's true, but who's to say what the future might bring?"

"What future? We can't wait for some unlikely 'future'! This opportunity is within our grasp. It is too good to pass up. There have been Wentworths at the Manor for over two hundred years and I won't see that broken under my watch. The succession is too important to be left to wishful thinking!"

"That may be true," answered Lucian, stiffly, "but I'm not a child, Mother. I'm five and twenty years old, for Heaven's sake! I don't need you to make my decisions for me."

"There's no need to enact a Cheltenham tragedy for me, Lucian!" his mother retorted in scornful tones. "I only have your best interests at heart."

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at... at him! Charles Lambert. The sooner we put a stop to that and direct your attentions to a more appropriate person the better!"

"How...?" Lucian felt faint with shock. He had been so certain no one else knew. And now his mother... how had she even understood what she was seeing?

"Your father..."

"What?" Lucian felt as if he had slipped sideways into bedlam. "My father? What about my father?"

"In the early days of our marriage he had... unnatural urges. But with time, he was able to cleanse those from his heart. As you will too, if you just apply yourself. The sooner you have a wife to channel your feeling into a more natural path, the easier it will be."

Left speechless, Lucian could only stare as his mother climbed the stairs to her chambers. His whole world had been turned upside down in a matter of minutes.

Eventually, he found himself in his own room.

Could that possibly be true? His father had taken him to a brothel for Heaven's sake!

He'd never had a hint that his father was anything other than what he seemed to be. As far as Lucian could tell, he'd been fond enough of his wife, but like many men of his class, he spent most of his time engaged in sporting activities or at his Club in London.

Though, come to think of it, much as his mother might believe her husband had successfully exorcised his unnatural urges, Lucian guessed, if he had been anything like Lucian, he had merely suppressed them. And those visits to London? If you had the money, you could buy anything in London.

His father had died in a hunting accident when Lucian was seventeen. Not for the first time, Lucian wished he'd had the chance to know his father better as an adult. Perhaps they could have connected, shared adult conversations, or perhaps not, given the circumstances.

A wave of sadness washed over Lucian. What a life his father must have led. And now, the same life beckoned toward him.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and leant his forehead against the mirror, appreciating the cold surface. Then he felt the cold wrap around his head. He tried to open his eyes but he couldn't. What the hell was happening? Was he going mad? It felt for all the world like he was still moving, falling into the glass, as if it had turned liquid. He tried to step back but his shoulders were held fast. Frantic now, Lucian struggled, only to find his arms seized by strange hands, pulling him forward into the dark.

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(Word Count 2214 according to Word and 2135 according to Wattpad, lol. In either case, I've reached the first Milestone of 2K here, not counting Author's Notes!)