“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it to be true, Mother.”
“That may be the cruellest thing anyone has ever said to me in my entire life.”
The Duchess started crying in earnest, but Gabriel did not back down. He’d never backed down on the battlefield, and he would not back down from this confrontation with his mother, either. A humourless smile that did not reach his eyes curled the corners of his mouth and tugged at the shrapnel scar that curled across Gabriel’s cheek.
“If you do not wish to end up estranged from all three of your children — whose lives you meddle in incessantly and whom you claim to love so well — you would do well to listen to me, mother. After all, I only want the best for you.”
Gabriel paused there, and the Duchess winced at having her own pompous, domineering words thrown back in her face, but she swallowed hard and nodded. She looked up at him through wide eyes made red from crying, as if she’d never quite seen Gabriel for who he was before, not really.
“Go on then.”
Her voice was a strained, hoarse croak, and her lips trembled with what looked to be a mixture of fury, terror, and sorrow. Gabriel leaned one shoulder against the massive post he was standing beside. The four-poster bed was a huge, ugly, sturdy piece of furniture, and he knew that he could lean on it without fear of the post breaking.
“I understand that you are upset that you’ve found yourself on the losing end of cross purposes with Lady Seabury, and you are a woman used to getting her own way in all things because father cherished you to the point of coddling and spoiling you—” His mother opened her mouth as if to argue, but Gabriel glared at her and she fell silent, crossing her arms and scowling, looking for all the world like a spoiled, coddled child despite herself. “There’s something I’ve noticed about you, especially since I came home from France, and I wonder whether you even realise it or not.” Gabriel straightened up from where he’d been leaning on the bedpost and leaned on his cane, then started pacing just a little as he tried to work a cramp out of his wounded leg while he spoke. “You’ve always liked to make plans, and you’ve always hated it when anybody dared to interfere with your plans, even Father. Do you know what I think?”
He looked over at his mother, grimacing and rubbing at the knot of scar tissue in his thigh. Her face was blotchy and red, and she just shook her head, in no mood to be cooperative with him while he was raking her over the coals.
“I think that plans give you a sense of safety, because you feel that you have everything well in hand, and if the outcomes are all planned for, then everything is under control, which means perhaps fewer nasty situations with unpredictable outcomes will arise to upset the sense of calm, balance, and order you’ve worked so hard to achieve over the course of your life.”
“Is there a point to your philosophising, Gabriel, or are you simply trying to make me feel small for asking my children to support their mother in not associating with people who’ve wounded me? I am not hard-hearted, Gabriel, I feel things deeply, especially when others wound me.”
“Oh, please.” Gabriel snorted and rolled his eyes. “The only thing that has truly been wounded here is your pride, Mother. And yes, there is a point to everything I’ve been trying to tell you today. Your long-standing vendetta against Lady Bitterwood, before this, was bad enough. She may very well be a horrible woman, but that is no reason to treat her children as if her sins are theirs as well.”
The Duchess’ mouth compressed into a hard, thin line, and Gabriel instantly regretted mentioning Lady Bitterwood. That was a tactical error on his part, but he pressed on anyway, determined to get his point across.
“You’ve been desperate to see Raphe and Catherine both married off ever since Father died—”
“And you as well, Gabriel.”
“Very well, and me as well.” Gabriel sighed through his nose for a moment and tried not to roll his eyes. “So is the irony somehow lost on you that, after months of failed attempts on your part to find a suitable match for Raphe, he has finally discovered a woman whose company he enjoys and whom he would actually consider courting — possibly making her his future Duchess — but you’ve forbidden him to pursue her because, essentially, you are a poor loser.”
“That is not what I am upset with Lady Seabury about.”
Gabriel blinked at her and snorted.
“That is exactly why you are upset at Lady Seabury, Mother. You could at least have the good grace to admit it.”
“I will admit no such thing.”
“The worst of it is that Lady Seabury isn’t the only person you’ll hurt with your wounded pride and social punishments, Mother. You haven’t thought this through at all, not really. The mother I know and love, the mother who truly wants what’s best for Raphe, Catherine, and me, would never be comfortable with all of the collateral damage this could potentially cause, no matter how wounded her pride was or how hurt her feelings were, nor how poor a loser she’s become.”
“What are you talking about, Gabriel? What collateral damage?”
“You’ve broken Raphe’s trust and quite possibly his heart. You desperately want him to marry and produce heirs, but you refuse to take the kind of wife that he wants into account. Then, when he finally meets a young lady he’d actually like to court, you forbid him to pursue her because her sister offended you.” Gabriel limped over to the window and stared out because he couldn’t stand to look at his mother anymore. “You tried to force Catherine to marry a man who bores her to death, and worse, you know she wants a love match, and you seem to want her to have anything but love. It’s like you don’t want Catherine or Raphe to have any chance at a happy marriage, and that makes no sense to me.” His eyes burned and his vision blurred as he stared out at the familiar landscape, seeing nothing. “And then there’s me. You’ve forbidden the three of us from associating with Lady Seabury and any of her connections, which means that you’ve forbidden me from speaking to or associating with the only women who’ve treated me like a human being and not a scarred, hideous beast since I came back wounded from France.”
“I….”
Gabriel whirled then, waving a hand at his scarred cheek in disgust.
“Most of the ton treats me like a monster now, and you’ve taken away the only people outside this family who saw fit to still treat me like a human being!”
Gabriel realised too late that he was shouting again, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He couldn’t even voice his other thoughts out loud, afraid that if she knew he had an interest in courting Lady Matilda Calthorpe, even for a moment, she would create some kind of perverse vendetta against Lady Matilda, too. Technically, she already had, since Lady Matilda was a connection of Lady Seabury’s and Lady Eugenia’s, he was already forbidden to see her, and that made her face the one thing Gabriel most wanted to see in the entire world.
His mother made some kind of broken sound he didn’t even want to try to comprehend and stood, moving toward him with outstretched arms, as if to soothe him like a hurt child.
Gabriel held up a hand and shook his head, shaking from head to foot. He rushed toward the door, cursing his limp.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare come near me right now. I don’t trust myself at this moment. Raphe isn’t the only one you need to worry about forgiving you. This time, you’ve gone too far, taken too much from all three of us.”
