Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

" T hat girl should be gone soon," Modesty hummed, as she cut into her smoked chicken, cooked to perfection. Duncan stilled, his palms fully gloved.

"Who do you refer to as ‘that girl?' And what do you mean she should be gone soon?"

Pushing her food aside, Modesty observed her son carefully. "Duncan," she began, "how have you been finding your time here?" Her tone was deliberately casual. He knew his mother only too well. She was hiding something.

Duncan glanced up, not bothering to smile. "It has been restful, Mother. I believe I asked you a question." He fixed his mother with a piercing stare.

Modesty nodded, taking a delicate sip of her wine. "Indeed. Sometimes a little distance provides much-needed clarity."

Duncan nodded absently, his thoughts drifting to Lucy. He missed her, yet the fear and confusion kept him away. But there was a jiggling thought in the back of his head, a thought that his mother was up to no good. And he was fast losing his patience.

"Mother?"

"I visited your estate the other day."

Duncan looked up sharply. Her tone was light, almost offhand. But he was no fool.

"You did? Why?"

"Oh, just to check on things," Modesty replied, waving a hand dismissively. "I wanted to ensure everything was in order in your absence."

"And Lucy?" Duncan asked, his voice tightening. "Did you see her?"

Modesty hesitated, her fork pausing mid-air. "Yes, I did speak with her."

Duncan's eyes narrowed. "And how was she?"

Modesty set her fork down, taking her time to respond. "She seemed well enough. A bit forlorn, perhaps. Understandable, given the circumstances."

Duncan's frown deepened. "What did you say to her, Mother?"

Modesty sighed, looking slightly uncomfortable. "We exchanged a few words. Nothing of great consequence."

"Mother," Duncan said, his jaw clenching dangerously, "what did you say to her?"

Modesty glanced at him, her expression guarded. "I merely inquired after her well-being. I was concerned, naturally."

Duncan leaned forward, his eyes fixed on his mother. "Concerned? About what?"

Modesty sighed, looking down at her plate. "About how she was managing, alone in that large house. It must be quite a burden for her."

There was more to this. He just knew it. "And what else did you discuss?"

"That was all, Duncan."

"Now, why don't I believe you? And why would you go to my estate without informing me?"

"Duncan." He nearly laughed at the sadness on his mother's face. He saw right through her. "I only wanted to make sure everything was in order. Did I do any wrong in looking out for my son?"

Duncan looked at her through narrowed eyes. She could try as hard as she liked but she was fooling no one, least of all him. Duncan stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

"Duncan, please, do not leave." Modesty implored.

Duncan stood by the fireplace, staring at the cackling flames, his back rigid with tension. "What more is there to say, Mother? I am certain you have done enough damage already."

Modesty swallowed hard. "I owe you an apology," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "And I must make a confession that weighs heavily on my conscience."

Duncan turned to face her, his expression one of wary curiosity. "What is it?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Modesty wrung her hands. "You see, the…the scandal…"

"What about the scandal, Mother?" Duncan's voice dipped dangerously low.

Modesty's gaze dropped to the floor. "It—it was my doing."

The room fell silent, the crackling fire the only sound. Duncan stared at her in disbelief. He hoped to God that he hadn't heard correctly. "What do you mean it was your doing? You arranged it?"

Modesty looked up, unmistakable guilt in her eyes. "Yes. You were avoiding marriage, refusing every suitable match. I feared for your future, for the stability of our family's name. So, I took matters into my own hands."

Duncan took a step back, his face contorting into a mask of shock and anger. "You did this? You set it all in motion?" He had suspected it, but he didn't believe his own mother would stoop so low. He had put her above it. How wrong he was.

Modesty nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I arranged for a lady to be found in your company, to create a scandal that would force you to marry. But I never intended for it to be Lucy. That was a mistake, a terrible oversight on my part."

Duncan's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "How dare you?! How dare you meddle in my affairs? You meddled in my life, in my future, without a thought for the consequences?"

Modesty's eyes filled with tears. "I thought I was protecting you. I only wanted what was best for you. I thought I was ensuring your future. But I see now that I was wrong. I should have arranged a proper match for you earlier, instead of resorting to such measures."

"You are impossible!" Duncan gaped at his mother incredulously. "You still insist that you should have arranged me a match?"

"Is that not the pride of any mother? I longed to see you settled and happy with a family of your own."

Duncan turned away, his mind reeling with the revelation. "You had no right, Mother. You have no idea what you have done." How could she?! How could she resort to such extreme measures? And dragging an innocent girl into it?

Oh no. He had hurt Lucy badly. She was as much a victim as he was. And he had treated her and her family with disdain. "You have jeopardized my marriage, my happiness, all because you could not trust me to make my own choices."

Modesty stepped closer, her voice pleading. "I am sorry, Duncan. Truly, I am. I never intended for things to turn out this way. If I could take it back, I would."

"It is a little too late for that now. Sorry will not fix this. You have done irreparable harm."

"Please, my son, please forgive me. I never intended any harm. I am so sorry." Tears streamed down the sides of Modesty's face.

"You deserve no forgiveness, least of all from me. How dare you meddle in my life like that. You had no right!" He could never forgive her. She had crossed a dire line.

"I am so sorry, Duncan. Please forgive me."

"What else did you discuss?"

"What?" Confusion etched Modesty's face.

"What else did you discuss with my wife? Spill it, woman!" Duncan fumed hot now and barely held himself together.

Modesty jumped, fear clouding her features. "I—I might have suggested that this marriage was perhaps not the best decision."

Duncan's eyes widened in shock. "You did what?!" he roared. "You said that to her? Why would you do such a thing?"

Modesty raised a placating hand. "Duncan, please. I was merely expressing my concern. You must understand, she is not suited to the responsibilities of a duchess. I wanted her to consider what was best for both of you."

Lucy would never forgive him. She would never come back to him. Oh, this was bad.

"And what did she say?"

Modesty avoided his gaze, looking at the fine china and gleaming silverware on the table. "She was understandably upset. But I thought it important to be honest with her."

"Honest?" Duncan thundered. "Telling her our marriage was a mistake? How could you, Mother?" This was the final straw. She had overstepped her bounds with her overzealousness.

Modesty finally met his gaze, her expression stern. "Because it is the truth, Duncan." She wiped her face furiously. "You deserve someone who can support you properly, who understands the demands of your position."

"You had no right!" he said through gritted teeth. "Absolutely no right to interfere."

Modesty remained calm, her voice firm. "I did what I thought was best. You are my son, and I want what is best for you."

Duncan turned away, his hands clenched into fists. "Lucy is my wife. I chose her. And you had no right to undermine that choice."

"Son, please. Try to see reason. This is not about undermining your choice. It is about ensuring your future."

"My future is with Lucy," Duncan said, his voice fierce. "And you have made that future even more uncertain."

"That is even better, son! Can't you see? Now you can send her away to another estate and live your life!"

Duncan stood in disbelief. Who was this woman and was she truly his mother?