Mrs. Desmond’s brow wrinkled a little and she nodded. “Oh.”
“Look who is here,” Hilde said.
Roarke stepped forward and Hilde’s face fell at his bruised countenance. It made Flora look more closely at it. His purple bruises were beginning to heal, but there was no doubt he’d been injured in a grievous fight. He made no mention of it but said, “Good afternoon, Mama, Hilde. May I present the Duchess of Sidmouth?”
Hilde seemed to have pulled herself together as she gave a brief curtsey in Flora’s direction. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
“Good afternoon,” she said back, and then she moved toward Roarke’s mother. “And Mrs. Desmond. I have heard so many lovely things about you from your son. I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance at last.”
Though Mrs. Desmond didn’t seem to fully comprehend that statement, she held out a hand regardless. “You are very pretty.”
Flora took her hand and gently guided her to the settee. “Oh, you’re too kind. May I get you some tea?” Hilde glanced at her and Flora nodded. “I assume you might wish to talk to Roarke a moment.”
Roarke swallowed. “But—”
“We’ll be fine,” Flora assured him gently. “Speak with Hilde.”
Roarke held her gaze a moment and then motioned Hilde into the hallway. As he left, Flora turned back to his mother. “How do you take it?”
“Two sugar and lots of milk,” Mrs. Desmond said.
“Excellent, I like my tea extra sweet also. And I see that the duke’s people put out some wonderful biscuits. Raspberry is my favorite—would you like some of those, as well?”
Mrs. Desmond nodded, and Flora went about the business of preparing the tea. She came back and sat next to her companion, examining her closely. She looked tired, and Flora wished in that moment that she could do everything in the world to make her comfortable and safe. Not just for Roarke, although knowing she could protect someone he loved so deeply was all she could wish to do.
But just for this lady herself, who hadn’t earned this difficult time.
Flora took her hand gently. “I’ve heard you have a son, is that right?”
Just as she suspected, Mrs. Desmond made no glance toward the door where Roarke had gone. She didn’t recall who he was, and it was heartbreaking. “Yes, little Roarke. He’s just five, you know.”
“Is he,” Flora said, and blinked at tears. “What a lovely age. I’d like to hear all about him.”
And so Mrs. Desmond told her everything about Roarke as a little boy, about her husband the dreamer, about their life together. And Flora listened to it all in rapture…and tried not to cry.
* * *
As Roarke stepped into the hallway with Hilde, he drew in an unsteady breath. “I was told you were harassed while I was in the countryside.”
Hilde’s eyes filled with tears and she wobbled a bit before she said, “Yes. I was walking with your mother in the park by the house. When she’s able, I try to take her to get air as often as possible. We had entered a quiet part by a pond she likes when your cousin showed up.”
Roarke tensed, his hands gripping at his sides. “Which one?”
“Not the duke,” she said. “The—the other one. I don’t know his name.”
“Philip,” Roarke murmured. So, Thomas had made his younger brother his weapon not once, but twice. And it seemed Philip took his duties very seriously, though of course he would. He’d always been short-tempered and ready to bruise to make a point. “What did he do?”
“He raced up, screaming at me, screaming at her. He told me he could have things…done to my son? He’s trying to find a place in the army, you see, since he can’t work. Your cousin said he could have him booted out or worse.” Now the tears flowed. “He was hateful. Your mother was weeping, I was shaking and trying to get away from him. He shouted us all the way into the house with the neighbors staring before he got into a carriage with the ducal crest and thundered off.”
Roarke shut his eyes. “It’s my fault.”
Hilde stepped closer and shook her head. “It isn’t, sir. I know you would have done anything to prevent that from happening.”
“But I didn’t,” he said. “Not enough at any rate.”
Hilde cleared her throat. “What happened to you, sir?”
Roarke knew what she meant. He’d seen her reaction to his bruised face when she came into the room with his mother. He wanted to lie to her, to reassure her…but he knew from recent experience that it wouldn’t make things better. And he owed more to this woman who had served his mother and never complained about his lack of funds.
