"Because you’ve holed up yourself in your study for months since your return and have finally married. A beautiful woman, no less." She answered.
"I thought you didn’t like her."
"I don’t. But I’m not blind." She shrugged pouring herself a glass of port. "She is beautiful."
"Its still no excuse." He sighed. "My relations with my wife are no ones concern. Not even yours. You will do well to remember that."
"There’s no need to be rude, son. I am still your mother." She sniffed. "I only came to offer you advice whether you want it or not. I saw your face during the wedding. You don’t seem to be bothered very much by your marriage to this girl and that is why I do this. Don’t let your reservations about what you look like stop you from actually enjoying something worth while."
"You don’t sound very much like someone who doesn’t approve of the match I made." He said trying to distract her.
He didn’t know why his mother chose to intrude his private space where he’d wanted to seek solace. She had been adamant in her disapproval of the match so he couldn’t understand why she saw the need to encourage his union with Victoria.
"I know you’re only trying to distract me but I will still tell you the truth. You can have a good thing if you let yourself." She continued. "You are worthy of love and happiness. I mean, I don’t approve of her but she was desperate enough to trap you in scandal and from what I hear is not disgusted by you so I assume you were the one to run from her and not that she rejected you."
He didn’t answer but looked away from her.
"I am right, aren’t I?" she sighed. "Oh darling boy. What am I to do with you? Why would you do that?"
"Mother please." He groaned already fed up. "I need my privacy."
"I will give it to you only because I want to give you time to think on my words." She said rising from her seat and coming to place a kiss on his cheek. "Have a good night, my darling. Tell your wife we will have breakfast together tomorrow."
"Good night, Mother."
When the door shut softly behind her, he sighed leaning back in his seat. He eyed the dark golden liquid and contemplated whether he wanted to deal with the consequences come morning but groaned, turning away.
Imbibing in alcohol had become a recent habit of his he didn't particularly enjoy but he had had to, if only to keep thoughts of Victoria at bay.
The memory of her slim curvy frame now would haunt his waking moments and dreams if he didn't drown them in alcohol.
Damn. He groaned internally.
He had not expected her body to feel so good or her womanhood to taste so sweet. He had nearly given into his desires and sank into her sweet warmth. He feared whether he would have survived the encounter when He had barely escaped their short entanglement with his self control intact.
He tried to justify his walking away by using her deception as reason but deep down he knew he feared her reaction would change when she finally saw the worst of his scars that raked his chest.
Even he could barely stomach the sight and it was his own body. She might scream and scramble away from him and that reaction scared him beyond what he could imagine.
She might successfully destroy the last shreds of his self esteem and he didn't know how he would handle that rejection.
But she had been a vision...
He groaned as he felt himself harden again at the image of her hard pink tips and how soaked and ready she had been for him. Her hips had been so supple and moved in time as his tongue had lapped her sweet juices and her sound...
He groaned and fisted his throbbing member, stroking to ease his raging lust. He had gone long without a woman's touch and now his body was punishing him for it.
That was the only explanation he could give for why the sight of her nakedness.
"Damn." He groaned again as he felt the pressure build up.
His hands moved faster and soon he was groaning out his pleasure into the empty room.
When the reality of what he had just done set in, he cursed and wiped his hands on a rag, throwing it into the furnace and rearranged himself into his breeches. He poured himself a large helping of the dark liquid he had been avoiding and drank the first two glasses in one gulp, hissing at the burn at the back of his throat.
When his mind got fuzzy and the image of her body imprinted in his mind blurred, he somehow made his way back to his long sofa, reclining and staring at the portrait of his father he couldn't bring himself to remove.
He had done his best over the course of six months to continue where he had left off but he still felt he was inadequate. He wondered if the man would have approved his choice of wife; a woman on the shelf instead of a young debutante.