Page 8 of Her Ruse with the Rakish Duke
“Mother.”
“I knew. You do not have to shelter me from these things, Victor. I am not a child.”
Victor withdrew his gaze from his mother’s weathered one. Even after all these years, she was still beautiful. The shade of her eyes had been the same blue as his. Now, the years had watered them down. The years and the miserable life she had led with his father at the helm.
Victor took her wrinkled hands in his, feeling their warmth run through him. “Have a splendid day, Mother.”
She smiled, withdrew one hand, and touched his cheek, “I will. I think the Queen is close to making a decision any day now. The Season is in full swing. It has never taken her this long. Perhaps the news of her nephew is true after all.”
“Her nephew?”
“They want him to pick a bride. The diamond will probably be his. If he is ready, which I certainly doubt.”
“Why?”
“Well, a little bird told me he is in love with a maid. He was seen kissing her by the blacksmith’s shop at night.”
“Ah, that is unfortunate.”
Dark night kisses would be the bane of all of them.
“It is. Everyone deserves love. Even you, my darling. When will you stop running?”
“I am not.”
“I raised you, and you have always been the sweetest boy and now a wonderful duke. It pains me that you constantly allow his shadow to dictate the path of your life.”
Victor straightened and released his mother’s hand. “I should speak with Miss Haversham.”
“You are running again.”
“Good day, Mother.”
The woman in the drawing room was hunched in a chair. She was half his mother’s age and had silvery blonde hair worn long past her shoulders. Her face was round and soft, with an innocence that was misleading.
She shot to her feet when Victor entered. He ignored the single chair with the surface that his father preferred and took the couch opposite her.
“Your Grace, you should speak with Lord Fergus. I managed his household for two years. I gave them spectacular service. I believe I can provide the same for you, given the chance.”
Victor stared at the woman for a few seconds. Her mouth slammed shut and her throat worked. “Miss Haversham, you should take a seat.”
She did as he asked.
“You have five minutes. I want you to tell me exactly what you want. If…”
She opened her mouth. Victor raised his hand an inch. She closed her mouth again, her jaw trembling. Victor fought off the pity for her. She, like the other women, was a victim of his father’s philandering. He would lavish his wealth on them, presenting the most charming front until he tired of them.
What was left was a woman who was starved of both attention and financial aid. Some remarried. Others tried to blackmail him. They were not aware that the duke could not care less about his family or their knowledge of his ways.
“If you misuse it, I am afraid you will not get another chance. I will not stop you from coming here, but this is the only time you will have my full attention. Speak.”
“I…I…”
Victor leaned forward; his poise still relaxed. But what he did not know was that even without trying, his eyes made him seem fierce.
“Yes?”
“I…I deserved something!” she shouted. Victor showed no reaction. She got to her feet and paced the length of the room. “I gave that man the best years of my life. He would not let me bear children because he insisted it would ruin my face, and my body. He said he would always provide for me. How could he not have left a pin in my name?”
