Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

" Y ou have about half an hour, Madam," he said, looking at his timepiece. "I suggest you make your point and be precise about it."

"Thank you." The Dowager Duchess dropped onto the sofa in one swift, graceful movement.

Richard stepped out from behind his desk and crossed the room to take a seat on the armchair across from the sofa. Leaning back, he crossed his legs at the ankles. He affected a picture of nonchalant relaxation.

When his mother did not speak for a few moments, he raised an eyebrow in question.

"Richard, Emmy," the Dowager Duchess began, clearing her throat. "I know this might be too late, but I wanted to say I am sorry. You did not deserve to be abandoned the way you were." She sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Of course, we did not deserve that," Richard sneered.

"Richie," Emmy warned, shaking her head.

He sighed, shifting on the chair.

"Why did you do it, Mother?" Emmy asked in a small voice.

Richard thought the answer to that question should be obvious. That is what selfish people do—they leave people behind when they no longer serve their needs.

"Why did you leave a newborn that still needed the care of their mother? Why did you feel the need to do that?" Emmy continued, her voice catching.

He must admit that he also wanted an answer to that question. Heartless mothers abandoned their children when they became burdens to them all the time. He had seen it happen among the peasants. At least the rich nobles had the option of leaving their children at the mercy of nannies and nursemaids. However, it took a certain kind of coldheartedness to abandon an infant one just birthed in favor of fleeing with a lover. A part of him was curious to know what sort of excuse his mother would give that would make it acceptable.

He watched as the Dowager Duchess bowed her head and tears streamed down her face. His mother might be older, but she was still a beauty, and the years had been quite kind to her. The sight of the tears on her face made her look vulnerable, and Richard was shocked that he felt the need to console her. He made sure to push that thought aside before it took root.

"Emmy, I am so sorry, but back then, I felt overwhelmed, and I was sure that if I spent another day in that house, I would suffocate to death. I figured that you would be well taken care of, since I could see how attached your brother was to you. I knew he would never let harm come to you."

"I was a child, Mother," Richard blurted out. "Why would you think I would be a good influence on her when I barely had any?" he asked, feeling the anger returning.

"You were quite mature for your age, and at that time, I really needed solitude," the Dowager Duchess replied.

"Solitude?" He chuckled darkly. "I hardly think you sought solitude when you left with a lover—that would have hardly granted you the solitude you so desired."

"A lover? You believe I ran away with a lover? Is that what your father told you?"

"Yes, you cheated on him several times and decided to crown it by running off with your lover, who was too cowardly to claim his own child," he spat out.

"Richard, I understand you hate me, and you have the right to, but there is one truth that must be said. I did run away with a lover, but not in the manner you think."

The siblings stared at her with confusion.

The Dowager Duchess sighed. "I think I need to start from the very beginning," she said, bracing herself for what was going to be a long, difficult story.

"You must have known that your father married me when I was in my prime. I had a lot of suitors who mostly wanted me for my beauty, and while I accepted their attentions, I wanted someone who loved me for myself. Then I met your father, and he was everything I wanted in a man. He was kind, handsome, charming, and he also possessed one of the oldest titles in the kingdom. He was a duke," she began, a rueful smile touching her lips.

"He courted me with perfect charm, and before long, I fell irrevocably in love with him. So, when he proposed to me, I gladly accepted. Granted, I loved the city, and I might have married him under the assumption that we would establish our permanent residence in London—I was too in love to care about the details.

"When we finally got married and he explained his attachment to the countryside, I was disappointed, but I also chose to accept the situation. We lived happily, and when I became pregnant with you"—she looked affectionately at Richard—"he was overjoyed and overly concerned for my well-being. Unfortunately, while I was pregnant, I became sick, and I was sickly throughout the pregnancy. He was the perfect husband at that time, coming several times a day to check in on me.

"When I finally gave birth to you, he was overjoyed to have an heir. His happiness gladdened my heart. I felt that I was living the perfect life with my perfect, little family, but that illusion fell apart barely two months after your birth. My maid, a young woman my age who I have known my entire life, fell ill. She was throwing up and feeling fatigued all the time. I was scared for her life, seeing as she was the only person from my childhood home with me. In my panic, I requested that the physician be called to examine her."

Her smile turned bitter.

"I remember standing outside the door when the physician, an old kindly man, came out and informed me that my quiet, innocent maid was with child. At first, I was shocked, then I was annoyed that any man would lie with her without marrying her first.

"When I went into the room, she was apologizing profusely, swearing to leave my service if that was her punishment. I calmed her down and asked her to let me know who was the father of her child. I promised her that I would use my husband's influence to force the man to take responsibility for her and her child.

"But instead of feeling relief, she started crying, and after several moments of consoling her and cajoling her, she told me the most devastating news of my existence. Your father, my husband , was the father of her child. Apparently, while I was pregnant and barely able to move, he needed an outlet for his primal needs, and fresh-faced Rose was the perfect candidate.

"After hearing the news, I was in denial at first. My husband was the most caring man in the world, there was no way he would cheat on me with anyone. But when my maid insisted that he was her child's father, I reacted with rage and requested that she keep quiet. I left that room so fast, you might I was being chased by devils.

"I ran through the woods for so long until my strength failed me. When I felt better, I retraced my steps back to the mansion, and when I arrived sweaty and dirty, I went straight to your father's study. I can still remember the look of surprise, then concern on his face when he asked if I was alright and why I looked disheveled. Just that look of concern on his face almost halted the words on the tip of my tongue, but I needed to know, or the uncertainty and doubt would have festered in my heart. Besides, I believed that what I heard could not be true.

"So I asked him about the absurd rumor I had heard, waiting to see a look of outrage preceding his denying it. Instead, I watched my darling husband transform before my eyes into a cold-eyed stranger. He told me that he was a peer and a man with great desire, that I would have saved myself the embarrassment had I known that. He had only sated an appetite. It was not his fault that the chit that was my maid had not taken precautions to avoid conceiving.

"After delivering his speech, he proceeded to ignore me. I remember standing there in shock for a long time before I left the room feeling numb. By the time I got back to my chambers, the pain finally overwhelmed me, and I wept.

"The next day, I woke up to find him in bed with me. I was shocked and revulsed. But apparently, he was back to being his normal charming self. He apologized and said he was drunk when it happened. He pleaded and pleaded. I could feel my heart thawing, but a part of me remained skeptical. Over the next weeks, he proceeded to woo me all over again until I finally forgave him.

"And so the cycle began—of me finding out about his indiscretion, getting heartbroken, and then placated. I began to build a tolerance for it. I even convinced myself that it was just a little flaw in such a perfect man, and as his wife, I felt it was my duty to tolerate it. So I became the long-suffering trophy wife.

"It was fine until the summer you turned eight, Richard. I found out something terrible. He had impregnated a maid, a little girl barely fourteen. She nearly died in childbirth after he sent her away to give birth in Scotland. He abandoned them and left them to fend for themselves. The young maid eventually returned with her child and complained to me of their plight. I was so disgusted and ashamed. I met him and relayed what I was told, but this time, he blatantly denied the act even though there was glaring evidence against him.

"It was at that point that I decided to move out of our chambers, since my husband, who I had thought was just flawed, was devilish to an unimaginable extent. When he saw I was leaving, he finally confessed his wrongdoing, begging me to return. But my mind was made up, and this time it was sealed shut with resolve.

"I moved to a different wing of the mansion. All his attempts to woo me failed. I was too riddled with guilt to appreciate his efforts. To ease my emotional torment, I turned to the bottle, getting roaring drunk every night that he was revulsed enough not to attempt intimacy with me. It was unfortunate that during my Season, I made a lot of friends, but when I was in distress, it dawned on me that they were just superficial connections at best.

"It was during that period that I met someone, a man. He was young, tilted, just out of Oxford, and wanted to sow his wild oats. I was aware that he was just interested in chasing pleasure, but I did not care, since I thought that was what I wanted or needed at the time to numb my pain. He introduced me to a world of hedonism that I never knew existed. Soon I was lost in the countless erotic parties he threw. Sometimes I went weeks at a time without returning home. I believed I was living my best life, and I quite enjoyed the look of rage on your father's face when I returned. Seeing him jealous fed my ego and hunger for revenge.

"Over time, my libertine ways caught up with me when I found out I was with child. The thought of bringing a child into my reckless, fast-paced life gave me a moment of clarity, and for those few months of pregnancy, I was sober. I returned to your father and was surprised to see that he had changed. He looked older and seemed to have abandoned his old ways.

"Something about seeing the older version of my first love filled me with remorse and nostalgia. I was even surprised when he agreed to claim the pregnancy. I moved back in, and throughout my confinement, he protected me from the rumors and gossip that surrounded my return.

"He became once again my doting husband, caring for me. He even helped pick out a name for the baby. We were so peaceful that I dreamed of a second chance at the love we shared at the beginning of our marriage, until the child was born. I was happy because she was a perfect girl with my blonde hair.

"That joy, unfortunately, was overshadowed because the moment your father stepped into the nursery, he took one look at Emmy sleeping peacefully in her cot, turned, left, and never returned. He locked himself in his study, refusing to allow me in. It was then that the guilt and shame hit.

"It did not help when you walked into the nursery, Richard, just returning from your friend's home. I could feel your disdain and hatred for me—it radiated from every pore in your body. I already felt the guilt choking me, and just like clockwork, I returned to my chambers one day to find a letter from my old lover inviting me back to a party held in his townhouse in London. He also promised me a voyage on his father's ship all the way to the Continent. It all sounded exciting, a distraction from the guilt and pain I felt.

"I knew that I was falling back into the vices I had thought I left behind, but I guess I always was an addict because the next day, I packed my meager belongings and I was on my way to the Continent, leaving only a letter behind. When I left before daybreak, my heart ached with guilt, but a voice in my head kept urging me away, promising oblivion aboard a ship to the Continent. So that is how I left, without looking back."

A deep silence lingered after her long explanation while her children pondered a version of events completely different from the one they knew.

Hearing her speak gave them a deeper view of who she really was. Another human being who felt all the different emotions of love, hurt, anger, pain, and addiction. It was easier to hate her from a distance because pain was always better when there was a table for blame and hatred. It was unfortunate she became that target when at the time, she had needed the unconditional love of family.

It was difficult to fathom that his father had been a serial womanizer and abuser. An abuser because Richard firmly believed that any man who would take advantage of a fourteen-year-old girl, especially one in his employ, was a monster and an abuser. It was quite shocking to imagine his father, a man he had thought attached to his ledgers, could have the time to womanize.

But then his father was a duke, he didn't really need to leave the comfort of his home to acquire a mistress when many women worked in his house. Richard was quite sure that those girls were not willing, since they depended on his father for food and sustenance.

It was one thing for his father to have a mistress outside his marriage, but it was another to carry out his affairs under his wife's nose, completely unconcerned about the hurt he was causing. The Dowager Duchess was no saint because she had chosen one of the worst ways in history to show her anger.

Her story, if it was true, threw everything Richard thought he knew about his father in shadow.

To distract himself from the turmoil of marrying the two versions of events, he asked, "Why did you come back, then, if you had found joy in the Continent?"

"It was not true joy. I know that now, because true joy could never be that self-destructive. I soon realized that when I fell ill at one of our stops. They took me to a healer close by. My so-called friends and my lover left me there for dead.

"The healer, a kindly woman, cared for me till I was healthy enough. When I got better, I helped her with her house chores—cutting wood for cooking and other menial chores I wouldn't have imagined doing as the Duchess of St. George."

Looking closely at his mother's hands, Richard realized that they were callused and bronzed with exposure to the sun. He also noted that some of her nails were broken.

"Later on," she continued, "she sent me to apprentice under a textile maker in the village there. Over time, I learned and started making textiles, saving money to return to England. It was very long, difficult work, but in the end, I saved enough money to return.

"When I returned, I went straight to the country house and found out I was now a widow, since your father had died a month ago. I was devastated because I had hoped to make amends. But fate is cruel, isn't it?" she said with a rueful smile.

His mother had lived a reckless life, but Richard believed that she had paid enough for it, with everything she had been through. He had not quite forgiven her yet. Grudges that old could not be easily let go. He was, however, ready to move in the direction of reconciliation.

"I know it is a little late, but I would love to be part of your lives." At their nod of assent, she continued brightly, "I guess we have a wedding to plan."

"Whose wedding?" Richard asked, confused.

"Yours, of course," the Dowager Duchess said with a laugh. "With the besotted looks you have been giving Miss Burlow, I thought you would be halfway down the aisle by now."

"Why would you think that?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Everybody in Society knows, silly," Emmy snorted.

He had quite forgotten she was in the room because of her uncharacteristic quietness. But he looked up to see that her eyes, while luminescent, were red-rimmed and puffy.

"You and Cat are so obviously in love that it is very vexing to watch you both circle each other while pinning for one another. Just marry her already and save us all the torment," Emmy complained.

Richard looked away, mortified. He had thought Emmy was exaggerating when she said that everyone was aware of his infatuation with Catherine. It seemed it was true, since his mother, who had barely spent a fortnight with him and Emmy, had noticed that something was weighing heavily on his mind.

"Son," his mother called.

He looked up to see an indulgent look in her eyes.

"I realize how scary it must be to fall in love, especially for a man like you who prides himself on his ability to control every aspect of his life. Unfortunately, love cannot be controlled that easily. I have watched you over the last few days as I visited Emmy, and I can tell that whatever happened between you two hurts you more than you would admit to anyone. Not even yourself.

"What you feel for Miss Burlow is beautiful, and I would hate to watch you let it go to waste because of the fear of what happened to your father and me repeating itself. You are not your father, and Miss Burlow is more intelligent than I was at that point in my marriage. I believe you would be very happy with her as a wife," she advised.

Her insight into the root of his fears was shocking and reassuring at the same time. It seemed that having a mother had its uses, and he was quite grateful for her concern for him even when he had not hidden his hatred for her.

"I have an important question, Mother," Emmy piped up. "How did you attend balls when you had no invitation?"

The Dowager Duchess's lips curled into a mischievous smile identical to the one on her daughter's face. "I have my ways. I am still a duchess, after all."