Bell narrowed his eyes. “Baron Winfield is coming here?”
Lucas gave his friend an are-you-quite-serious look. “Yes, but that’s hardly the point.”
“What’s the point?” Bell scrubbed a hand over his face. “That Frances Wharton is marrying Sir Reginald?”
“No. That Sir Reginald said the only reason I’m interested in passing the Employment Bill is because of my brother.”
Bell stopped scrubbing and pressed one palm against a closed eye. “You’re not making any sense, you know? And I don’t have the impression that you’re foxed, which means you have no excuse for not making any sense.”
“I’m not foxed,” Lucas replied with an eye roll.
Bell cocked his head to the side. “Then please explain to me what Miss Wharton marrying Sir Reginald has to do with the confounded Employment Bill.”
“Nothing,” Lucas replied, tossing a hand in the air, “other than I’ve made a mess of the entire affair.”
Bell blinked repeatedly. “How so?”
“Courting Frances, espousing the bill, and now leaving.” Lucas counted off his transgressions on his fingers.
Bell frowned. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes, in the morning. After I speak to Frances one last time.”
Bell shook his head. “What do you intend to say to her?”
“I don’t entirely know yet. But I must tell her the truth.”
Bell shook his head some more and rubbed his forehead. “You’re giving me a megrim, Kendall, and I don’t get megrims. Let’s begin again, shall we. You talked to Sir Reginald about the Employment Bill?”
“Yes. Yesterday afternoon.”
“And what did he say?”
“He still wanted a bribe, but then he said I only was interested in passing the bill for my brother’s sake.”
“Of course you’re doing it for Charles’ sake,” Bell scoffed. “I thought you already knew that.”
Lucas roughly scratched at his cheek. “I knew I was doing it for Charles, but I honestly thought I believed in it too.”
“You don’t believe in it?” Bell asked, his sharp blue eyes narrowing on Lucas.
“No. Not any longer.”
Bell raised a hand in the air. “Thank God, you’ve finally seen reason.”
“What?” Lucas frowned.
“The Employment Bill is hideous. I never intended to vote for the thing myself.”
Lucas stared at his friend as if he didn’t know him. “This whole time you’ve known that, and you didn’t tell me?”
Bell stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Lucas’s shoulders. He walked him over to the cot that rested against the wall and they sat down, side-by-side. “Kendall, I’ve known you since we were barely more than children ourselves. You are honest, trustworthy, and kind. You’re one of the best men I’ve ever known. But you’ve never been cut out for politics. You’re far too loyal. And far too decent.”
Lucas took a deep, bracing breath. He was about to admit something to Bell he’d never admitted to anyone. He stared down at his boots in the shadows. “The truth is, I’ve always felt as if I wasn’t supposed to be—”
“I know.” Bell nodded sagely. “You weren’t supposed to be the earl.”
“You know that, too? Bloody hell man, you do know everything.” Lucas couldn’t help his half-smile, but the truth was his friend was one of the most perceptive people he’d ever met.
“Perhaps not everything,” Bell replied with a smile of his own. “Look, you may not be earl by birth order, but I say destiny doesn’t make mistakes. Whether you were born to the position or not, you’re the earl now, and you have the power to make large decisions, decisions that affect others, decisions that affect the country. Your brother was a decent man, but he never saw beyond his own nose, I’m afraid. You, you’re different. You see two sides to a story. You empathize with others. You care about them. All you need to do now is trust yourself.”
“‘Trust myself,’” Lucas echoed, mocking the words.
“Yes, trust. Yourself. You’ll have no better counsel in life. You’ve always known the right thing to do. Now you simply must do it when it comes to Parliament and the vote.”
“And Miss Wharton,” Lucas added, expelling his breath.
“And Miss Wharton,” Bell echoed, grinning at him.
Lucas groaned and rubbed a knuckle against his forehead. “I’ve spent the better part of the last year arguing for the bill with anyone who would listen.”
“And you only have a month or two to argue against it,” Bell pointed out. “But something tells me with Miss Wharton at your side, you’re certain to win.”
Lucas clenched his jaw. “She won’t be at my side. She’s going to hate me when she finds out who I am.”
Bell lifted his brows. “Even if she learns you’ve changed your mind about the bill?”
“It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve lied to her a dozen different ways.” Lucas bounced his fist against the tabletop.
Bell nodded, slowly. “All you can do is tell the truth, Kendall, and leave the future to the stars.”
Lucas took a deep, steadying breath and looked out the window at the night sky. “Tell me, Lord Bellingham, when did you become so wise?”
Bell shrugged. “I’m even wiser at a decent hour.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lucas got to the library early. He hadn’t been able to sleep, so he’d tossed off the blankets and got out of bed. He’d dressed himself, quite deliberately, as the Earl of Kendall, managing to do so without the aid of a valet.
The Clayton livery was packed in his trunk. He fully intended to burn the odious clothing at his first opportunity. No. He wouldn’t burn it. He’d give the clothing to one of his servants. His time belowstairs had taught him the importance the working class placed on valuable items discarded upstairs. It often contributed greatly to the income of a servant fortunate enough to receive such a gift from his master.
His own time as a servant had come to an end. He’d tossed his last log on the fireplace.
This was it. No matter what else happened, he intended to tell Frances the truth today. He was through with lies. If she hated him, so be it. It would be better than living with the regret of not knowing what could have been
