Page 68 of The Scottish Duke
“For the whole of my life,” she said, understanding.
“Which is longer and more important?”
“The world will not think that.”
“No, they shan’t, but they will be even crueler to your child if you don’t marry Alex. Would you have him labeled a bastard?”
The calm and loving Dowager Duchess of Kinross uttering that word was a shock.
“What would you do for your child, Lorna?”
“Anything,” she said, the answer coming so quickly there was no need to think about it.
“Then you know how I feel about Alex and, in turn, for this child. I would do anything for them. And for you, Lorna.”
“A friend of mine says I see what I want to see,” she said. “That I ignore what’s real.” She glanced away, then back at the duchess. “I’m trying not to do that, Your Grace. Your son doesn’t care anything for me. He’s been cordial and charming, but I don’t pretend it’s anything more than that.”
“You’ve always struck me as a proud young woman,” the duchess said. “You didn’t go to the poorhouse when you were desperate and alone. You sought out work on your own. You refused to wallow in self-pity. Why are you doing so now?”
“I’m not.” The response came immediately to her lips. “How can you say I am? A marriage between us would be ridiculous, not to mention scandalous. People would never stop talking about it.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” the duchess said. “But, then, they will talk regardless. If it wasn’t this marriage, it would be something else. People will find things to discuss. Alex is a wonderful topic for them. He’s brooding and a loner. He has a sorrowful past, and he’s handsome. What better target for their gossip?”
She blinked at the duchess. What on earth could she say to such an attitude? Something, anything, to make the other woman understand. But before she could interject, the duchess continued.
“You are going to find that people will criticize you regardless of who you are or who your family is or what your station is in life. Almost no one measures up. Your grandfather was an earl? My father was one.” She smiled. “The faster you realize that it doesn’t matter, the happier you will be. That is one thing I’ve never had to teach Alex. He doesn’t give a fig what anyone else thinks.”
“That’s because he’s a duke.”
“Oh my dear,” she said, “Alex has been that way all his life.” She held up a hand. “Before you say that it’s because he was the heir to a dukedom, I assure you that he was as self-possessed in the nursery before he truly understood who or what he was. You could do worse than to emulate him, and that’s said with a mother’s usual pride.”
“Has he agreed?”
“Yes,” the duchess said. “Now it’s your turn. I won’t have my grandchild born a bastard. Say yes.”
What choice did she have?
“Yes,” she said, the word uttered on a tidal wave of pain.
Perhaps there was a place in Heaven where mothers go to be lectured. The admonitions would only last an hour or two, Louise was certain. After a respectable amount of time, and a genuine, soul-wrenching confession, the mother would be led away to the main part of Heaven and fitted with a pair of angel wings.
At least that’s the way she thought it should be.
She’d lied to Lorna. In addition, she had every intention of lying to her son. The result was worth any amount of chicanery. The child soon to be born must be a Russell.
She sent Peter for the midwife, and when the woman arrived she motioned her into the bedroom.
“Dr.McElwee will be here soon. If he needs to examine her, I’d like you to remain in the room with Lorna.”
“Aye, Your Grace.”
Louise turned and studied Lorna’s face. The poor dear was dozing. Lorna had some rough hours ahead of her. Russell babies were always large and birthing them wasn’t easy.
“I’ll return in a little while,” she said, leaving the bedroom.
To her surprise, both Dr.McElwee and Alex were in the parlor. Nan was making tea, while Peter was standing at attention as if ready to take orders from Alex at any moment.
“Would you see to her, Dr.McElwee?”
