Page 69 of Falling for a Forsaken Marquess
Their situations were undoubtedly different as she didn’t have the responsibility of continuing her family’s line or dealing with the handing down of titles, but her view had been compelling. William didn’t think it was possible to keep one’s family happy and find one’s own happiness, but Agnes did.
She seemed to believe that it depended on what a person made of their situation, but William saw no good in being betrayed by his brother and the woman he used to love. Neither was there any good in getting married when he wasn’t prepared to accept another woman into his life.
Charlotte had taught him that women were fickle and disloyal, seeking their pleasures without considering the consequences their decisions could have for others.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t say all women,” William corrected, taking a seat on a nearby haystack. “My mother has been a good wife and mother, and Agnes is entirely different from Charlotte. Do you suppose I have been harsh on her?” he asked the horse.
Martin had accused him of punishing Agnes for Charlotte’s mistakes, but William hadn’t seen it like that at first. It simply made sense to keep away from all women to avoid a second heartbreak, to maintain his distance and remind himself of his experience with love.
Martin, the duchess, and Jacob had never experienced the gut-wrenching pain of discovering that the person they loved more than themselves had chosen another. They had never lived with the humiliation of not being wanted, of hearing people whisper as he passed them on the street, and the devastation that the brother he had watched grow up would betray him in such a cruel manner.
At times, William had imagined cutting out his own heart and tossing it into the sea, but that sort of gruesome activity was only possible in the fables of betrayed lovers.
Instead, he had locked himself away for months, refusing to leave his house until he had hardened his heart and could handle the well-meaning questions and curious gazes of his parents, friends, and acquaintances.
It was a lie that only women could experience such intense emotions, and men would do well to understand they were not immune to what many considered a weakness of the female condition.
“You do not think me weak, do you, Hera?” he questioned, chuckling when the mare cocked her head to the side. “I’ll assume you’re saying no.”
“My Lord?” someone called as they entered the stable.
“Yes?”
The estate’s stablehand, Tommy, appeared at Hera’s stall. “My Lord, the duchess has been looking for you.”
William sighed and rose to his feet. “Very well, Tommy. I have given Hera her brush down for the day. There is no need to do it again.”
“Yes, My Lord. Thank you,” the young man said, bowing. “Shall I take her out to the others?”
“She had a problem with Fancy last week, so I think you should take her to another area to graze. I wouldn’t want them to start nipping each other again.”
Hera was a jealous horse and had not liked seeing William pay attention to one of their newer mares. Her gentle spirit had vanished the second Fancy was nearby, and she had charged for the younger mare before William was aware of what was happening.
“Yes, My Lord,” Tommy agreed. “I’ll take her to the east side of the estate.”
William nodded and stroked his horse once more, promising to return with treats. Making his way back to the house, he could only imagine what his mother wanted to talk about. William had become good at avoiding his family, but he had grown tired of it and had given up.
Part of this decision had been Agnes’ doing, leading him to take control of his situation rather than let it control him. He had yet to discover if this approach was better than his previous attempts at prolonging the inevitable, but time would tell. Stevens met him at the door, frowning at his attire.
“It seems that you have rolled in the hay, My Lord,” the man lightly chided. “I shall prepare clean attire for you.”
“No, do not bother, Stevens,” said William, dusting the dried grass off him. “I’ll remove the worst of it by hand. Is my mother in her parlour?”
Stevens maintained his disapproving frown as he nodded. “Very well, My Lord. Yes, she is currently in her parlour. Your brother was just with her, but he has since departed.”
Stevens knew him so well that William didn’t have to ask if Jacob was around.
“Thank heavens for small mercies,” William muttered. “The last thing I need is an audience with my brother.”
William could feel it in his very bones that his brother was up to something. Jacob seemed too smug and cheerful these days, which was never a good combination. When questioned about his jovial strut about the house, the younger man simply stated that it was his prerogative to feel however he wished and had every reason to be happy.
Of course, anyone was entitled to some happiness, but not at the expense of others. Perhaps he had latched onto Miss Philips and was enjoying his time with her, but William doubted it. Shaking his head, he continued to the parlour, giving a brief knock on the oakwood door before entering.
“You have finally come, dear,” his mother said by way of greeting. “Have a seat beside me.”
The duchess patted the settee, disturbing the pearls she had likely removed from her neck. She wound them around her wrist like a thick bracelet and kicked off her slippers before tucking her stockinged feet beneath her. The woman was rather limber for her age and took great pride in showing her seemingly never-ending youth, but never in the presence of visitors.
“You seem radiant this morning, Mother,” William commented, adjusting his waistcoat before sitting.
