“Or what? What will happen if I remain devoted to your son?”
“Then you will be a weight around his neck. Whatever his political ambitions, you will thwart them. And he will never choose a wife while still lusting after you.”
Yihui jolted at those words. She knew that Max lusted for her, but the duchess made it sound filthy and wrong.
“He cannot marry you!” the lady cried. “Have the decency to set him free to find a suitable wife.”
Yihui didn’t look at the stack of notes. She watched the duchess’s face, saw the throb in her throat, and the panic in the lady’s eyes. The woman believed that Max would never fulfill hispotential with Yihui as his wife. Worse, she knew her son would not look for another woman as long as he graced Yihui’s bed.
The belief was so strong that the duchess’s heart raced, and her eyes bulged. She looked on the verge of her own apoplexy, and so Yihui made tea for the lady. She had to get off her stool to do so, and winced as she tottered on her heels, using her arms to support herself when the weight became too much. Fortunately, the hot water and the leaves were close at hand. Even better, the ache was not so bad. Her feet were healing.
Small comfort.
She said nothing as she worked. Yihui needed the time to let her mind steadily pound down the anguish in her heart. What did it matter, said her mind, if she set Max free early? Especially if she gained enough money to cover her debts? And the duchess was likely correct. Without a very public display, Prinny might not believe she had cried off. He might yet be a problem for Max. Without a very clear end to their relationship, Max might struggle to attach himself to a new woman, an appropriate English woman suitable to his status.
The duchess might be a bitter, arrogant shrew, but she was protecting her son. And if Yihui wanted the best for Max, then she would do well to listen to his mother.
Once the tea had steeped enough, Yihui passed the cup to the duchess.
“If I do this, you must buy my teas. You must tell your friends to buy their medicines from me. You must make sure they know this.”
The duchess reached out an unsteady hand. She took her time before answering. She sipped her tea then stared into the swirling depths of the liquid. And she smiled because she knew she had won.
“I will tell them all to visit you. And you must swear to never see my son again.”
Yihui slowly grabbed the stack of notes. She drew them close though the feel of the paper made her skin crawl.
“I will cry off in front of the prince. In front of everyone.”
“And you will not see my son again.”
She couldn’t force those words through her throat. She couldn’t make herself say what she knew deep down must happen for both their sakes. Could she stand by and watch him marry another? No. Could he climb in her bed after courting another? No. If they were to end, then it must end.
So she tucked the pound notes into the pocket of her work dress and felt filthy from it. Then she looked the duchess in the eye.
“I agree.”
“Excellent. Now I will tell you exactly what to say.”
Chapter Forty-Three
If she thoughtthe duchess would go easy on her lessons, Yihui was sorely mistaken. The lady became even more taxing that afternoon. The woman’s disgust of Yihui rose and fed into a new level of torture as Yihui was quizzed on everything from the appropriate way to dab at her mouth to which battle had won a war she couldn’t remember. It didn’t help that Yihui had little desire to perform well.
Thankfully, Emmaline chose that afternoon to emerge from the attic. Her eyes were rimmed red, her face was sallow, but she stood tall and spoke as if she hadn’t spent the last weeks grieving.
Lord Christopher was still missing.
Even though there was no body, it was clear that Emmaline believed him dead. Yihui gave what comfort she could, which was to say that she offered Emma a special mixture of teas and then said little more. There was nothing more that could be done.
For her part, Emmaline promised to be with her during the presentation and did her best to distract her mother when the inquisition became too strident. Fortunately, Yihui’s training was almost done. Tomorrow night, everyone including Lady Kimberly, would be beside her at court. Except the duke, of course, who refused to be seen in public until he was well.
He would never be well, but he was improving. According to Max, the duke could use the left side of his body with growingskill. And even the right side showed some small improvement. But the best news was that the duke had kept his rages down to once every other day and even those were less violent than before.
On this last night together, Max escorted her home as had become his custom. Some nights he went on to an evening’s amusements, but not tonight. There was a quiet around him tonight, an increasing tension that she didn’t understand.
He carried her into her bedroom and commented with approval on the new linens on the bed. Olivia and Millie knew their work, especially since her liaison with Max was an open secret.
“I must change my bandages before tomorrow,” she said when he set her down on the bed. “Will you help?”
