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Chapter 36
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My Mother’s Choice Chapter 37
She sat alone at the lunch table with cold salmon and apprehension. She was being punished, she suspected, for the outburst in the bedroom.And then she heard the distant sound of doors opening, and commotion in the hall. She was beginning to suspect that, wherever he went, a cloud of noise and action swirled around the duke.He strode into the dining room and took his place at the,head of the table, barely noticing her, as footmen rushed forward to fill his plate and glasses. He fell to eating, without saying a word, but stopped after a few bites, to look up at her. Hisexpression held no cloud of memory of his earlier outburst.‘This salmon is uncommonly good. Did you sack the cook as well?’‘No. I merely oversaw the purchasing of the foodstuffs.You’ll find, now that the food that is ordered actually makes it to the table, the quality of the meals has improved.’‘And will continue to improve, after the cook hears of the increase in pay?’‘I believe she has already heard, your Grace
My Mother’s Choice Chapter 38
Authur looked after her in stunned relief. Of all the situations he was least able to deal with… He couldn’t bring himself to cross the threshold of the cottage again, much less be of use when he got there. And she seemed so unafraid of,the outcome. Didn’t she know how it would be? He shook his head to clear the dots dancing before his eyes. ‘Come on,Paul. Let’s see if we can find your daughter a doctor, shall we?’‘Yes, Master Authur. But who’s the great lady we left with young Mary?’‘I have no idea,’ he muttered.‘Eh?’‘It’s my new duchess, Paul.’‘Your mother, is it?’He sighed. Paul sometimes got confused about things.No wonder Mary had been screaming. ‘No, Paul. I’m duke now; remember? And the fine lady with Mary is my wife.’‘Ah, yes. Congratulations, your Grace. But I thought the Lady Lucille- was with child as well.’He was catching up, but still not in the present. ‘Not Lucille. That was ten years ago. The Lady Lucille died…’ the air became thick and caught in his throat ‘…
My Mother’s Choice Chapter 39
Strange, she thought, how much things could change in a day. Parton was hooking her into one of her many new gowns, a sprigged muslin day dress, and she was preparing to meet her husband for breakfast. A husband who hadn’t shouted at her in almost twenty-four hours, she thought with a smile.She’d inquired about the whereabouts of her brother-in- law, and been told that he’d left as soon as his brother arrived.‘Not unlike him,’admitted Parton. ‘He and his Grace don’t get along well, and he tends to up and disappear on a regular basis no matter the location of the duke. He was about due if you ask me.’Relief flooded through her. There was enough to worry about, without fending off the unwanted attentions of Lord ArchieShe quizzed herself. Had they been unwanted?She did not wish to dishonour her husband, she told herself.But his conversation had been pleasant. And the touches, however brief, had been exciting and she’d longed for more after each meeting.And he’d given her more eac
My Mother’s Choice Chapter 40
‘I would certainly buy a collection of decently plain fabrics for my wife. None of this nonsense with damped under skirts and sheer gowns. Of course,’he drawled absently, ‘the sight of hard nipples displayed behind transparent gauze is rather intriguing the first time one sees it, but annoying in practice.’ He cupped a hand over an imaginary breast. ‘Therouge gets everywhere and stains the fingers. And the teeth, of course.’ She dropped her fork with a quick intake of breath.‘If I had spent the week with a mistress, I would, no doubt, bring you a most sensible wardrobe, well suited to your tastes, I’m sure. High necklines. Fabrics that don’t show wear. And a bracelet, perhaps.’He looked seriously into her eyes. ‘But, as I do not, at this time, have a mistress, or plans to acquire one, I contented myself with bringing the silks and satins home to my wife, since I noticed on leaving that she was most sorely in need of clothes.’Her mouth set in a prim line, disapproving of the joke h
My Mother’s Choice Chapter 41
An afternoon’s rest had done wonders for her mood. Of course, discovering that Lord Archie had lied in nearly every conversation they’d had might have done something to ease her worries. Her husband had no mistress. And hated the silkin the dining room as well. He taken time to show her, before the footman removed it, the place where, as a boy, he’d made charcoal alterations to the anatomy of one of the shepherdesses and expressed some relief that the evidence would be permanently removed by the redecorating.She touched a curl. And Authur liked her hair. She glanced down at the ring on her finger and smiled again. He hadn’t abandoned her at all, but had been thinking of her while in London. And he’d remembered the ring. It was a sentimental choice for a man she’d thought cared only for obedience and appearance. And he’d kissed it as he had the ring he put on her finger the day they were married.She hid a blush. Perhaps it was foolish and courting disappointment to spin fancies abou
My Mother’s Choice Chapter 42
The Duchess lay on the bed, glaring up at the hangings. The spiders were still there, too. She wondered—did she dare knock them down, or would her husband come raging into the room and insist that she might hurt herself on the sharp edge of the pillow? She was nowhere near the banister when the duke had plucked her off the bench. Surely he didn’t think her such a crack-head as to fall over the edge. Or worse yet, jump. If it came to that, she’d choose a less messy end, considering the amount of time and boric acid it had taken to return the entry hall marble to pristine white.She punched the offending pillow in frustration. It needed airing. As did the hangings.She’d tried not to think that way. But there was so much to do. If he wanted her to be idle, she’d learn how.And then she guiltily took the pillow and walked with it to the open window, pounding it on the sill before leaving itto hang in the breeze.‘Your Grace?’ There was a faint knock and the door opened to reveal a hesit
My Mother’s Choice Chapter 43
She toyed with the keys on her chain, watching them shine in the morning sunlight. It had been a lovely gift, but what did it mean? It made her happy to look at them, but was Authur happy that she wore them?Perhaps she should be more like Lucille. He’d never suggested it, but if he could have a happier, kinder, more devoted version of his first wife, Authur might not look so sad and brood so on the past. If she were someone who could embroider useless frills and paint inferior watercolours, and sit at the spinet in the evenings, singing tedious songs in bad French, someone who could display her good breeding to the best advantage of her husband.She sighed. If she could be someone she could never be. The servants in this house knew their place better than she did. Of course they hadn’t known it until she’d arrived and taken charge of them, but what did that prove? That she’d make a better housekeeper than a duchess, she supposed.And what was left to her now?Gardening, perhaps. She
My Mother’s Choice Chapter 44
Gwen fidgeted on the couch in the drawing room and tried not to look as restless as she felt. This was to be a typical night at home with her husband, and she must learn to enjoy it.The word caught in her mind like a lump in her throat.Home. This was home, she told herself. The memory of the place that had been home was already becoming indistinct at the edges. She remembered much happiness, of course, and she missed her father and Lady Danbury, but she must not forgetthe rest of it and be grateful for what she now had. This room was comfortable and quite pleasant, now that it had been cleaned and aired. Warm and quiet and spacious and the sound of the rain outside was distant and comforting. She didnot have to empty the pan in the corner that caught drips from the hole in the roof, as she had at home. She was not sitting in a draught.And despite the prickle of sunburn on her nose, she was not bone tired from a day’s exertions and ready for bed.Strangely, that was part of the p
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