Page 91 of The Theory of Earls (The Beautiful Barringtons 1)

A rumbling laugh came from him, another thing he had in common with his son, except the duke’s amusement ended in a bout of coughing. He waved toward a pitcher of water, and Margaret hastened to fetch him a glass. Holding the water to his lips, she watched him drink.

Once the coughing subsided, he gave a great sigh and sat back, taking her hand in his.

“Deal, my girl.”

They played whist. The duke, she suspected, allowed her to win, for she only lost a bit of her pin money. After an hour or so, much sooner than Margaret wished, he laid down his cards and declared the game over for the day.

“I find I’m very tired, my child.”

She nodded and turned her head, not wishing him to see her blinking away tears. The duke’s face was etched with pain no matter how much medicine Gladys gave him.

Margaret stood to leave, and the duke reached out, his fingers encircling her wrist. “Wait, daughter.”

“Your Grace, would you like me to read to you? Perhaps play you something soothing?” The conservatory was directly below the duke’s rooms. Sometimes he asked her to play with the windows open so he could hear her.

“No, my dear. Did you know my first wife was a pianist?” He shot her a look. “We’ve never spoken of the past, but perhaps we should. Time is running out and I wish you to know some things.” He winced in pain, lips tightening before he took her hand. “From my own lips. Amanda will white-wash my history because she loves me. Welles and Leo will paint me as the devil, which I fear is closer to the truth.”

“Your Grace—” Margaret tried to dissuade him. His tone had all the makings of a deathbed confession, one she didn’t feel ready to hear.

“I became a duke shortly before marrying Katherine,” he said without preamble. “I was arrogant,” he squeezed her fingers, “which I’m sure you find hard to believe. Handsome. Titled. I already had a reputation in London for the things I had done.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “I was a careless father with Welles. I was absent for most of Leo’s life, even though he was born on the other side of the estate. I was too busy being…a duke.” He waved his hand. “Feeling important. Having women throw themselves at me and men court my favor. I was a poor husband to Katherine. More terrible to Leo’s mother.” He paused as another fit of coughing plagued him.

“We do not need to continue, Your Grace.” Margaret patted a napkin against his lips.

“Oh, but we must. I will never have an opportunity to tell Welles or Leo.” He took her hand again. “You must not blame Welles for his aversion to me. I accept his hatred, though it pains me. You see, Welles adored his mother. She taught him the piano. Coddled him. I took that from my son.” A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “Katherine saw him as not the duke he would be but the child he was, something my own selfishness and attention to duty did not allow.ThatWelles was a much gentler human being than the man you married. Another thing I took from him. But you seeAnthony, I suspect. As Katherine did. It is a rare gift.” A choked laugh escaped him. “Much as Amanda sees me.”

Margaret blinked back a tear thinking of her husband.

I see you, Maggie.

She had never thought the same in reverse. Never assumed it was anything but her talent on the piano which had brought them together; instead, it was something much more profound. And beautiful.

“I wish to thank you for coming to Cherry Hill. Your presence brings joy to my family. And I especially thank you for the gift of my grandchild. I wish I was going to live—”

“Your Grace.” She took his hands as tears ran unbidden down her cheeks.

“Don’t you start behaving like Amanda,” he snapped. “Watering pots, all of you.”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” He was telling her goodbye and Margaret was loath to hear it.

“Amanda despairs of my passing, but it was a foregone conclusion from the moment we met. I’m many years her elder. Promise me you will forgive Welles for whatever he did to bring you here. I do not wish to be the cause of another estrangement. You love him. And he must love you greatly to have put aside his hatred of me to wed you.” His eyes were fluttering shut, his voice becoming thin. “I’ve left letters for both my sons.”

“Your Grace, we can speak of this later.”

“Amanda will not remember when the time comes,” he continued in a whisper. “My beautiful summer strawberry will be devastated that I have left her—a duchess without a duke to fuss over. The girls will be distraught. I expect Theseus will be the only one who will not take notice of my death.” A raspy chuckle sounded. “I must depend on you, my dear daughter, to take care of all the Barringtons in my absence.”

Margaret pressed his hand to her cheek and nodded.

“Especially Welles.”

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