When dessert was finally presented with a flourish, Christine declined her portion and announced that she would be retiring for the evening. “I’ll give the two of you time alone before Bethany changes for the ball. What a wonderful thing it is to be young and in love. It’s been a delight to acquaint myself with you, my dear. I do hope the two of us can become great friends.”
Almost as though he’d been watching for this moment, Mr. Bradford rushed to the older woman’s side and assisted her out of the room to where a sturdy uniformed woman waited patiently at the door. She had the look of a nurse about her.
It would have been impossible to miss the sympathetic look the footmen simultaneously sent in Chase’s direction.
It wasn’t until the door closed behind them that Bethany allowed herself to slump into her seat. Chase tipped his head backward, banging it against his high-backed chair and staring with closed eyes.
“My apologies,” he muttered.
Was he apologizing for his mother?
“I’m not sure why you’re upset. She was perfectly lovely, if not a little overly enthusiastic about our marriage.” Bethany dipped her spoon into the sweet concoction before her. “And, of course, your father.”
Unbelievable.
Chase rubbed the back of his neck. Of course, Bethany would be curious. Because although she appeared as though she was enjoying dessert, her unspoken questions weighed heavily in the room.
Someday she would come to understand. She couldn’t comprehend his mother’s foibles yet.
Yesterday afternoon, his mother had read about the scandal in the newspapers. She knew exactly why he’d had to marry Bethany. It was the real reason she’d absented herself from dinner.
And yet tonight she’d pretended his marriage was a love match. He ought to have expected she’d dismiss reality and make up some alternate version to fit into her make-believe world. It was what his mother did.
Was he going to be forced to pretend a love match with Bethany along with everything else in order to protect his mother’s delicate sensibilities? How much pretending could one man do?
Bile curdled in the back of his throat. She’d prattled on throughout the entire meal aboutgoodhusbands,faithful lovinghusbands.
Her faithful loving husband.
All lies—fairy tales. Just when he thought his mother could be normal about something, she’d set out to build outrageous expectations for him to live up to with Bethany.
And he hadn’t even consummated his blasted marriage yet—for God’s sake. He pinched the bridge of his nose and immediately stifled a wince. Damn Stone Spencer and his bloody rock-hard fists.
Ignoring his dessert, Chase reined in his emotions. There was a ball to attend. Or perhaps ‘perform for’ described the demands awaiting both of them more accurately.
“Chase?” Her voice nudged him. He’d yet to explain his foul mood throughout dinner, let alone provide her with a real apology.
Apologies meant nothing. They were words, manipulative outpourings easily summoned when the occasion demanded it.
In his mind’s eye, he pictured his father cajoling his mother with flowers and gifts, always apologizing for some absence or another.
“Nerves, I suppose.” It was a shite answer that wouldn’t fool her for a second.
“You don’t suffer from nerves.” She tipped her head sideways, two wrinkles forming between her eyes. “They’re not productive, I believe you said.” Were her fingers tapping out letters beneath the table?
The return of Collins and Bradford with more wine gave him respite from providing further justification. Not that he was required to do so in his own home, but he’d long ago realized his life was easier when the women in it were appeased.
Another lesson he’d learned from the blackguard who sired him.
“My mother is delusional when it comes to my father.” The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them.
He never spoke of his father to anyone and by the look on her face, he’d shocked her.
But then she shrugged. “No man could be as perfect as the one your mother described this evening. I beg of you not to worry that I expect or imagine such exemplary behavior from you. You are my husband but in name only.” Head down, she dipped her spoon into the hot pastry filling and then blew on it before taking a bite. “For all intents and purposes, our marriage isn’t real. It’s nothing but a façade. Your mother might be deluded but I”—she flicked her gaze up—“am not.”
Her sentiments were identical to his own and yet hearing her utter them aloud nudged something in his brain into the wrong place. Her low expectations unsettled him.
“Why not?”Stupid question, Chase old boy. Leave well enough alone.
