Page 27 of The Phantom Duke
“Apology accepted,” she said with a smile. “Now, we were talking of my friends visiting.”
“To which I agreed. What else?”
Maria took a breath and forced a smile at his abrupt tone, reminding herself that perhaps he was telling the truth and that he had no conception of how he sounded.
“The Willow Street Orphanage must continue to be supported.”
She had to deliberately make the effort to keep breathing. Her instinct at this most important point was to hold it. But that would be to give away her most important advantage. He must not guess exactly how important it was to her. If he did, Damien might well use the knowledge against her.
“Very well,” he said, waving dismissively. “I shall make regular donations.”
“And one of the children will come to live with us.”
Maria sipped from her soup spoon, watching him from across the table. His own spoon was in his hand, but she could see the slight tremble in it.
“No.”
“That is non-negotiable if you wish this arrangement,” Maria said, proud that she kept a level tone.
Inside she was shaking. This was Gilbert’s last hope. Hers too, but if it came to it, she would accept privations. But she would not allow Gilbert to face the same.
I will save you, dear child. I will do whatever it takes.
“I will not have a sniveling brat loose in my house.”
“He is neither sniveling nor a brat. He is an intelligent young boy with a loving and joyful character.”
“If I had wanted children, I would have sired them. I would have married. No.”
It was the worst outcome she had imagined, but Maria refused to accept defeat just yet. “Then, this discussion is at an end. I will not budge on this matter. I thought to make it part of my negotiation. Perhaps, I should have appealed to your humanity.He will shortly be without a home, and the home he has is rife with fever. This is his lifeline.”
The duke looked away, putting his hands on the tabletop. His fingers drummed against the wood, and he breathed hard through his nose. Maria sensed great, pent-up tension within him. Anger. Frustration. Rage. She could not tell, but he looked like a spring under too much pressure.
It both frightened and attracted her.
He is broken, but he does not need to be. Why? Because he bears scars? Deformities? That is no reason to hide away and make yourself a pariah.
“I can help you if you will let me,” she said, “but it must be mutual.”
The duke stared at her. One side of his face was set and rigid, the other masked and inhuman. His mouth was pulled into a tight line, jaw clenched, brows pulled down.
“No.”
Maria stood.
“Thank you for your… soup. We will not meet again.”
Clasping her stick in a hand that was suddenly shaking, she began walking to the door.
“Wait!” the duke snapped.
Such was the command in that voice that Maria found herself standing still before she was conscious of what she was doing. Shaking her head at her own weakness, she resumed walking to the door, flinging it open and stepping into the hallway beyond.
Did the butler turn left or right to reach this door? I cannot remember.
She heard the duke’s heavy, striding footfall coming towards her.
“Stop! For God’s sake, woman!” he barked.
