Chapter Twenty-Three
Lord Kendrick, Duke of Alton
“Please tell me you are not calling off your engagement?” My mother gripped the gloves until her knuckles were white. If that was her worst-case scenario, my suggestion wouldn’t be such a shock.
I willed my rebellious body to calm down. Per usual, her timing was unfortunate. First Gavin, and now Colt. If she’d been ten minutes later in both instances, she would have received an eyeful. I yearned for her to leave, so I could quiz Colt further. From what he’d indicated, he would be cutting our association soon. It was a kick to the chest and added to my growing unrest. “No, I still plan on marrying Lillian.”
“Thank goodness. I’ll admit I was unsure about her at first, but she is an exceptional young lady.” She flipped open her fan and waved it in front of her face. In the past few months, she’d despaired of me ever marrying. Even if she disliked Lillian, I doubted if she would have admitted it, just as long as I married. Her acceptance of my fiancée was a promising start. The two women would be woven into the tapestry of my life. I had always assumed Colt would be as well.
“Lillian wishes to elope to Gretna Green.” I crossed my arms and met her startled stare. No matter how many times I’d done it, confronting my mother was never easy. It had been the two ofus for most of my life. We were of a like mind on most subjects, save one, my independence. “And I agree with her wishes.”
She blinked several times and furrowed her brow. “You wish to elope to Gretna Green? Whatever for?”
“She thinks it is romantic.” I simply wished to get the wedding over with, so I could bed my wife. Selfish, but true. I lusted after her, and holding back was torture. I never denied myself anything, a character flaw, but there it was.
“It is preposterous. A duchess doesn’t run off to get married. People will think she is increasing.” Color flooded her cheeks, and she swayed on her feet. “Oh my, she is increasing. Isn’t she?”
I reached her side in two long strides and gripped her elbow. This was an unexpected turn. Having a wastrel husband and a degenerate son, it took a lot to shock my mother. “No, she isn’t increasing. Colt, fetch Mother a sherry, please.”
He hopped to his feet and reached for the decanter on the sideboard. Concerned eyes met mine, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. He hurried over with the glass and forced it into her hands. “Here you are, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Colt. You are a dear boy. I bet you never give your mother any heartache. Elope.Youwould never do something as crass as eloping to Gretna Green.” She drank a healthy swig from the glass.
Guilt was her favorite ploy to use when trying to bend my will to hers. This time it wouldn’t work. “His mother never interferes in his life. But this isn’t about Colt. It is about my fiancée and her wishes. She wants to get married in Gretna Green, and either you and the Tappers decide to travel to Scotland to see us wed, or we will go alone. It is your choice.”
“That is most unfair. Lady Vivian and I are working tirelessly to give you a wedding suitable for the Duke of Alton. If you elope, what will everyone say?” Mother cast me a pleading look, which might have worked had she not adjusted her jaw in such amanner that gave away her attempts at manipulation. She was a master strategist when she lived under the oppressive thumb of my father, who had forced her to think of inventive ways to bend him to her will without him guessing her intentions. I wasn’t my father.
“Colt, a glass of sherry for me, please.” I needed something stronger, but sherry would have to do for now. Dealing with my mother often gave me a headache. Added to my unfulfilled desire for Colt, I was in no mood to quibble. “You should be used to the gossip. I’m your son.”
Colt cleared his throat, humor in the slight tilt of his lips.
Our fingers touched as he handed me the sherry. The kiss we shared had been electric, like a bolt of lightning struck me right in the chest. I drank the entire glass of sherry, the sweet wine bitter on the back of my palate.
“That isn’t amusing, Kendrick. You have a responsibility to your title and legacy. One day you will have children. Do you wish for them to live beneath the cloud of your irresponsibility?” She clenched the stem of the glass, and the emerald in her ring flashed in the light. Every inch the duchess, she looked down her nose at me.
“I’ll have wed Lillian. That is all that matters.” I found it rich she lectured me on being irresponsible when my father—her husband—ruined the family’s finances on games of chance. It wasn’t her fault, of course. Theirs was a marriage of alliances, not love. Rather like mine would be. The biggest difference was that Lillian was aware of my true character.
Mother set her glass on the desk and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. “Where did I go wrong?”
“Shall I leave you two alone?” Colt tucked his hands into his trouser pockets, looking uncomfortable with my mother’s theatrics. She was doubling down on shaming me, but I washaving none of it. She would have been worthy of the stage in another life.
“No, you can stay. We will need to discuss the change in accommodations on the ship. Either we will need passage for five plus the servants or three.” The more I considered the proposition, the more enthusiastic I became. If we left by steamship, I could be married by the end of the week. And by doing so, I hoped to convince Colt to come with us.
“The earl might have a thing to say about that,” my mother said, lifting her head. Just as I suspected, her eyes were dry of tears.
