Page 73 of Her Ruse with the Rakish Duke
“Mother…”
“I am not a good person, I know that. It took me too long to protect you. Too long to rid you of him.”
“You did your best.”
“No, I should have done it quicker,” her breath quickened, her chest heaving in pants. “I should have run a blade into his chest the first day he laid his hands on you, I should have killed him quicker.”
Victor’s eyes widened. She had spoken with so much venom that it couldn’t have just been angry splutters.
“What are you telling me?”
“I risked my life to make sure I gave you one.”
Shock. Apprehension. Judgment. The feelings swirled in a macabre pool of emotions. She had killed his father? No, he died of natural causes. It was in the reports. His mother would never have. She was a sweet, innocent woman.
“I had to.” Her fists clenched. “No one was coming to save us. I had to kill him to protect you. It was hard deciding to do it. I cried myself to sleep knowing I was becoming a monster, but you were the most important thing to me. His life was the most important thing to him.”
“How did you do it?”
“I poisoned him. Every day, in his tea, his water, his food, I added a little poison.”
“You’re lying.”
She shook her head.
“I watched you, every time you served him, he gave you the first taste.”
“I always took the antidote, but I was slowly building an immunity to it. That’s why I have been sick for so long.”
He perused her troubled face and the fragility of her body. She was suffering. She was withering. He hadn’t known all this time. She lived under his roof, and he never knew she was battling her own demons. Why hadn’t she told him?
He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve it.
“Don’t worry about me. I will live. Old age will take me first.” She read his eyes again. “I am not saying this to plunge you into guilt. I did what any mother would do. I am not sick because of you. None of this is your fault.” Her assurance fell on deaf ears. “But please, I want you to live a happy life, to get married and have a family which you love the way I love you. There may be monsters trying to destroy your family, but they will never be you. You will protect your family the way that I protected you.”
He wanted it. He wanted to feel love. He wanted Daphne. He needed Daphne. He wanted to marry her.
Helovedher.
“I love her,” he said.
Daphne’s laugh was the best gift to man, the sound was an angel’s chorus. His heart skipped a beat whenever the sound escaped her lips. Her hands in his hair… her soft tender fingers, her gentleness…
He loved the eccentric books she read. He loved her stubbornness. In a world of placid and complacent people, Daphne was vibrant.
His mother’s face lit up. “That’s good.”
He could have her. Maybe, maybe if he tried hard enough, maybe…
Suddenly, the dowager erupted in a fit of coughs, and he rushed to her side, a handkerchief in hand.
“Are you all right?” Worry etched across his forehead.
She tried to speak but the fit wasn’t over. He yelled for Killian to bring her a glass of water. She greedily drank the liquid. After the fit, she looked positively aged. “I am fine. I hadn’t realized how parched I was.”
“You should rest, do not strain your health with matters that do not concern you.”
“My son’s happiness is my only concern.” She held his gaze determinedly. She was no longer the weak woman suffering from bouts of dehydration. “And I would do anything to ensure you have a happy ending.”
