Chapter Two

The grand chamber at Sinclair Manor was bathed in the soft glow of the fire dancing in the hearth. The flames were casting shadows upon the walls, reminding Alexander Sinclair of the lively scene of a ball, despite the gravity of the situation before him. The scent of lavender filled the air as Lady Madeline Sinclair, his widowed mother, reclined on the plush, canopied bed, her delicate features accentuated by the subdued fire light. Her eyes were closed, and Alexander held his breath, not wanting to wake her lest she be resting, as was rare for her those days.

He sat by her bedside, trying to keep the weight of his mother's illness from becoming too heavy. He was there to lift her spirits, after all. Not to burden her with his sorrow over her condition. The physician had told Alexander that his mother wasn't to suffer any stress, and it was his duty to ensure that she did not. That didn't make his own feelings any easier to handle, however. So, he simply sat with a smile plastered on his face, even as his heart broke as he watched the woman who had birthed him and cared for him his entire life wasted away before his eyes.

His heart also ached for his daughter. Little Victoria, who was only seven years old, didn't fully understand what was happening to her grandmother, whom she loved dearly. It pained Alexander to have to keep Victoria away from her grandmother. But with Victoria's mother having died shortly after giving birth, the dowager duchess was the closest thing she had to a mother. Victoria was a smart, but sensitive child. He didn't want her to witness what he witnessed as his mother deteriorated.

Am I doing the right thing? He wondered as he stared at his slumbering mother. Will Victoria resent me if she doesn't get to see her grandmother before she dies?

He sighed softly to himself. It was at times like that he felt the most lost without Sarah, his late wife. He had loved her dearly, and they had been thrilled to be welcoming a child. His world would have collapsed after her death, had it not been for Victoria. She had been his saving grace, and she was his world. He would do anything to care for and protect her. But even with as much as he loved his daughter, he still often missed his wife. He saw Sarah in Victoria more each day, and his heart ached. And now, as he watched his mother weakening, he wondered how much more he had left to lose.

The death of his father had been hard on both him and his mother. Richard Sinclair, the preceding duke, had died from a sudden coronary episode the same year Sarah was born. Losing both his father and his wife in the same year had been trying, but his mother had been instrumental in helping him through the first few years of Victoria's life. Now that she was fading, Alexander had no idea what he would do. He knew he had the household staff. But he also knew that Victoria needed more love than that which money could buy from servants. Perhaps, even more than he could offer, even though he loved her with his entire being.

As Alexander brooded, the dowager duchess stirred. Alexander became alert, watching his mother's face as her eyelids fluttered rapidly for several seconds before her eyes popped open. Her eyes were unfocused and cloudy for a moment until they settled on him. Then, she offered him a weak smile, offering him a cold, fragile hand.

"How long have you been in here, darling?" she rasped.

Alexander cleared his throat, praying that his voice didn't betray his worries.

"Just about an hour," he said, patting her hand gently and trying not to wince as he felt how icy her skin was.

His mother shook her head, clearly using much of her strength to do so.

"You should be with Victoria," she said, pausing to cough. "I will still be right here once she's gone to bed."

Alexander bit his lip to stifle his thought. That's not guaranteed, Mother, he retorted silently.

"Victoria is having a picnic with her nursemaid," he said. "She's perfectly all right."

The dowager looked at him, her eyes suddenly looking sharp and clear.

"There is something I wish to discuss with you," she said.

Alexander's eyebrows raised and he looked at his mother inquisitively.

"What is it, Mother?" he asked.

The dowager shifted herself in bed, seeming to regain some of her strength as she pushed herself up on the pillows. Alexander jumped up to help her, fluffing the pillows as the dowager laid back against them.

"I've taken the liberty of having Rosa pen a letter to the attorneys," she said. "Victoria needs a governess, and I thought it best to secure one without troubling you."

Alexander's brows furrowed. His mother's inclination for unilateral decisions often stirred a simmering annoyance within him. And it seemed as though even her illness was not slowing her penchant for making such decisions. She was even going so far as to recruit her lady's maid to help her sneak around behind his back. Yet, he kept his countenance serene, knowing that her intentions were always borne of love.

"Mother," he said, keeping his voice at an even, quiet tone. "While I appreciate your concern for Victoria and her education, I do wish you'd consulted me on such matters."

The dowager looked up at him with a hint of apology in her eyes.

"Darling, there was no time to wait," she said. "Victoria is growing every day, and we cannot afford to delay her education."

A sigh escaped Alexander's lips, but he nodded in understanding. Duty, a constant companion to a man of his station, pressed upon him even within the walls of his mother's chambers. Especially when the matter at hand was involving his daughter. He knew his mother was right. And deep down, he supposed that he only felt guilty that he hadn't taken the time to see to the hiring of a governess for his daughter himself.

It was difficult, tending to his duties as a duke, being a single father to a young daughter and tending to an ailing mother. There never seemed to be enough hours in a day, and he always felt that he was failing someone when they needed him most, no matter how hard he tried.

As if sensing his internal struggle, Lady Madeline squeezed his hand.

"You are a good son, Alexander," she said, smiling softly. "And you are a wonderful father, as well as a dependable, reputable duke. I know you'll see to it that Victoria gets the best of everything in life. You will always be devoted to your duties. And as for me…" she trailed off, taking a ragged breath. "Darling, there is nothing more you can do for me. If it is my time, then so be it. You must focus on your sweet daughter."

He managed a faint smile, his thoughts drifting to the responsibilities that awaited him outside his mother's chambers. Yet, the impending duty was momentarily overshadowed by the love he harbored for his mother. His heart ached each time they spoke of her impending passing.

He still wished to believe that she might yet live. But his mother seemed convinced that her time was almost at an end. He never confronted the thought outside her room. But each time she mentioned it, his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. As did all the responsibilities that would be his and his alone in her wake.

"Thank you for your kind words, Mother," he said. "I should let you rest now. You need your strength if you are to recover."

The dowager duchess scoffed gently, shaking her head. But instead of reminding Alexander of how sick she was, as she often did, she held onto his hand, keeping him in his seat.

"Before you go, I should mention one other thing," she said, her voice suddenly sounding much more casual and less urgent. "Lady Caroline and her family will be joining the Season. They will be arriving shortly and I wish to host them here for some time."

Alexander's eyes narrowed. He loved his mother dearly. But the prospect of him remarrying and his mother's matchmaking efforts had always been a point of contention between the two of them. She knew that Alexander had not even considered taking another wife since Sarah died. He didn't feel that he would ever be ready for such an endeavor. And he certainly didn't want to be pushed into it.

"Mother," he said, keeping his tone measured. "I appreciate your efforts in securing a suitable match for me. However, as you know perfectly well, I am not inclined to rush into marriage."

The dowager gave her son a pleading look. It would have been enough for Alexander to do anything she asked if what she was asking wasn't the one thing he could never consider.

"Alexander, it's time to think of Victoria," she said. "I know that you loved Sarah. But she's gone, child. Victoria doesn't just need proper education. She needs a mother figure. You must try to put her needs above your own feelings. You are her father, and she is depending on you to do what is right for her."

A ripple of resistance coursed through him, but he chose his next words carefully.

"I am glad that you care so much for Victoria, Mother," he said. "But I shall seek and secure a bride at my own pace, and only if I should happen to choose to do so."

His mother's eyes dulled, and it was clear that she was disappointed. Alexander felt bad for defying her in her current state. Part of him wondered what the harm could be in granting her the wish she so desperately wanted him to fulfill. Even if he only spoke the words to placate her. But he couldn't be dishonest with her, even if she might pass the following day. It would break his heart for his last words to his mother to be an outright lie.

Instead, he rose, kissing his mother on the forehead. His heart lurched at how warm her skin was compared to her cold, clammy hands. She was feverish again, and he hoped that the servants who were tending to her could bring down her fever again.

"I must go check in on Victoria," he said. "We can talk more about this later."

The dowager nodded, and her mouth twitched like she wanted to say something more. But her eyelids were already drooping, and her grip on his hand had loosened. He held his breath, praying that she wasn't about to breathe her last. But a moment later, her breathing became steady and rhythmic, albeit a bit raspy, and her chest rose and fell in even motions. He sighed with relief, tiptoeing out of the room. He closed the door, motioning for the maid who had waited outside for him to finish visiting with her to go tend to her. Then, he descended the stairs and headed for his study.

He had no intention of discussing marriage further with his mother. He did, however, need to see if there had been any correspondence in reply to his mother's inquiry regarding the governess. If he had any say in the matter, he would select the governess himself. And if he didn't, he would have no qualms about firing whomever had been hired if she turned out not to be what Victoria needed. After all, his mother wanted the best for her. And he intended to see that she got it, even if it defied his mother's wishes.