Chapter 12

Secrets and Lies

"Mother, what happened with Father?" Bridget asked once she and her mother were far enough from the others that they would not overhear.

"He left," Penelope replied.

"Yes, I know that, but did he say why?"

Bridget was worried the Duke had spoken to her father—he had intimated that he would do it to make things better, but she did not need him interfering in her life, especially when he did not know the intricacies of the situation.

"He did not say anything," Penelope replied. "Well, he did not say much. He informed me he had to return to London and gave some excuse about a business deal, but I have heard that line enough times to know it was a lie. Perhaps he means to try and do some business after being around the Duke and his brother so much, or maybe he will go and drink the last of our money away before the wedding."

"Why does he have to be like this?" Bridget moaned.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Penelope said witheringly. "I know he loved us all once, but I don't know anymore. If you were to ask him, he would claim he does not mean to hurt us, but then he goes and does it anyway. Why couldn't I find a good man, Bridget? What is wrong with me?" Her voice cracked as she started to cry.

Bridget had not seen her mother like that before. Lady Lincoln was usually calm and collected and showed no sign of weakness. It stunned Bridget, and she froze. She was so used to her mother being the strong one in the family, and it broke her heart to see her mother breaking down, especially when there were other people close by.

"Come here," Bridget said quickly.

She pulled her mother farther away from the other people in the garden and ignored the discomfort in her ankle to lead her behind a bush.

Mother and daughter looked at each other for a moment, unsure what to do next. Bridget was so used to her mother being annoyed at her behavior that she found it hard to take on the role of the protector. She needed to, so she pulled her mother into her arms.

They both stiffened at the contact, but the anger and disappointment flowed out of Penelope as her daughter held her. She wrapped her arms around Bridget, gripping her tightly as if she had nothing else in the world to hold onto.

"I'm sorry," Penelope sighed. "You don't need to hear any of this."

"I do," Bridget replied. "Better to get it out with me than for Margaret to hear any of it. It irritates me that she still has so much love for him, but I don't want to take that from her. She should not lose her innocence."

"No, she should not. She is so happy. Have you seen how happy she is? I don't want anything to take that away. I should have one daughter who is happy in life."

And more disappointment came rushing back.

"Mother," Bridget hissed as they hugged. "I am happy. You have two happy daughters."

"Maybe you have it right," Penelope moaned, her tears starting to wet the shoulder of Bridget's dress. "You have decided you will never marry, and that means you will never be hurt like I have been hurt. Your father was a good man when I married him, and Lord Michael is a good man. What if?—"

"Don't say that," Bridget interrupted. "Lord Michael is not Father. He is a good man, and I know he will care for Margaret. He loves her, that much is clear. Father has an addiction. If we used him as an example, no woman would ever marry. You have to believe this wedding will turn out for the best."

"I do," Penelope replied. "It will save our family, but what if Margaret hates me for it? I arranged this marriage without considering her feelings. I wanted to save us from ruin, but what if she will be ruined?"

Bridget took her mother by the shoulders, hoping to speak some sense into her.

"You need not worry about Margaret, Mother. She is happy with Lord Michael, and she told me this morning that she is falling in love with him. You might have chosen for her a husband with other reasons in mind, but you still chose well."

"Did I?" Penelope asked. She looked in a daze, her eyes wet and her legs shaky.

Bridget worried her mother would crumple if she let go of her.

"You did, Mother," she reassured her. "You chose a man who could help our family and one who is perfect for Margaret. You have held this family together for so long, and you deserve some happiness of your own. Let me worry about things from now on, and enjoy your time here. Don't you think it is for the best that Father has left?"

Penelope thought about it for a second. "I hate to say it, but it is for the best. We only have to get through the rest of the time here, and then two more weeks, and they will be married. All of our problems will be solved."

"Some of them will be solved," Bridget reminded her.

She wished she could have her mother divorce her father, but that would create additional problems. They would start with the marriage of Margaret and Lord Michael and go from there.

"I know I am hard on you sometimes, Bridget, but it is only because I love you," Penelope said.

Bridget almost cried at her mother's words—a rare show of genuine affection from a woman who had erected walls around her heart because of her husband.

"I know," Bridget replied. She rubbed her side after the long hug with her mother.

Penelope wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "You are still sore," she said—more of an accusation than a statement. She was instantly back to her old self.

Bridget wondered what her mother would say if she told her she had been out riding alone with the Duke and had spent time with him at the estuary. She still could not believe she had gone along with it.

"I will be fine, Mother," Bridget assured her.

"How did it happen to you? I heard something about a fall in the early morning."

"Yes, I was walking not far from the house, and my foot must have caught in a tree root, and I fell into a bush. It looks worse than it is," Bridget said.

Penelope reached forward, and Bridget expected a tender caress from a loving mother. Instead, Penelope took her chin and turned her face left and right to get a better look. Bridget almost gasped when her mother turned her face to the right and she saw the Duke walking toward them. Penelope turned her daughter's face to the left and the Duke disappeared from view. She could feel him approaching, and wanted to strain against her mother's touch to look at him, but thought better of it.

"It's a good thing you are not getting married looking like that," Penelope stated.

"The wedding is over three weeks away. They are only scratches," Bridget pointed out. "If I were getting married, I would be fine."

"Good day," Nicholas said on arrival. "I noticed the two of you leaving in a rush, and I wanted to make sure both of you were fine."

Bridget wanted to tell him that it was none of his business, but she refrained.

"We were only talking about the wedding," she replied instead.

"Have you seen my daughter's face?" Penelope asked. "Oh, what a mess this is turning out to be. We are supposed to be getting to know your family, and my daughter looks like she has been fighting squirrels."

"Mother!" Bridget hissed.

"Well, I just don't think you should be wandering off when we are entertaining guests. Where were you off to anyway?" Penelope asked.

"I was only going for a short walk before everyone was up," Bridget replied.

"Yes, and look at the mess it got you into," Penelope chided.

Bridget didn't want to argue in public with her mother, but there was something comforting about her mother being back to her old self and not crying in her arms. Bridget could be strong for her family, but it melted her heart to see her mother so distraught.

"It was a good thing I was there," the Duke said.

Bridget almost choked as he said the words, and her eyes widened immediately. She was glad her mother was not looking at her, as she could not control herself after the revelation.

"You were there?" Penelope asked.

"Not for the walk," the Duke clarified. "I was out riding my horse, and I had only just arrived back at the house when I heard an almighty screeching sound. I thought it was an animal caught by another animal, and I rode toward the terrifying sound only to find your daughter." He turned to Bridget. "I did not think a person could make a sound like that."

"Nor did I," Bridget said through gritted teeth.

"I found her tangled up in a bush and unable to free herself from the prickly stems, so I dismounted and saved her. I was able to help her back to the house so she would rest."

"My goodness," Penelope gasped, placing her hand on her chest. "I had no idea that was what happened. I hope you do not think less of us. My daughter is usually much more stable on her feet."

"I am sure she is," the Duke agreed.

"Bridget, you must have been glad His Grace was there to save you," Penelope said.

"Very glad," Bridget gritted out.

"I have an idea," the Duke piped up.

Bridget did not like the tinge of amusement in his voice.

"What is it?" Penelope asked.

"I shall accompany your daughter on all future walks. I must admit that I did not know how treacherous the landscape was until I rode out there this morning. The estuary was breathtaking, of course, and I spent a pleasurable fifteen minutes there, but there can be troubles that make the grounds beyond the estate unsafe. I would hate for your daughter to be cornered by a wild animal out there with no one around. Or, become unbalanced again and fall face-first into a bush."

Bridget might have hit him if they were alone.

"Did you hear that, Bridget?" Penelope asked. "That is very gracious of you, Your Grace. I am sure Bridget will accept the generous offer. Won't you, Bridget?"

"Yes," Bridget managed, her teeth clamped together.

"Then it is settled," the Duke said. "I shall ensure that Lady Bridget never has to walk alone again. I will endeavor to keep her safe so that she makes it to the wedding without another scratch."

Bridget could feel steam coming out of her ears as the Duke became intent on making the rest of her time as horrid as possible.