It had beenmonths since Dominic had set foot on Cuthbert property. As he rounded a bend and the familiar limestone estate came into view, all he could think of was the way his heart pounded. It was as if his father was still alive and he would soon cross words with the older man. Time had changed many things, but not the insecurities that still ran rampant throughout his chest. It was one of the reasons that he eschewed walking through the familiar front doors and crossing the black and white tiled floor. He abruptly turned into a younger man at home from school and trying to prove his worth to someone who would never approve of the man he was struggling to become.
Another reason it was difficult to come back here was the reminder that he was never supposed to hold the age-old title that had been passed down through generations. While Dominic was a rightful member of the family, he wasn’t the true duke. That honor had belonged to his brother, Edmund, but with his death the duty had fallen to him. It had taken Dominic a longtime to finally concede to the cruel hand that fate had dealt to both of them.
It wasn’t until he’d matured that all the uncertainty and guilt he’d felt over being the Duke of Cuthbert had waned and he’d accepted the inevitable outcome. However, it still pained him whenever he thought of his mother, the shell of the woman she had once been. Before her marriage to Dominic’s father, he’d heard stories of the vibrant and lively lady she had been in her youth. But after so much time under the domineering thumb of her husband, her spirit had finally broken and she’d turned into the subservient and docile woman she now was.
It hurt Dominic to think of Lexie forced to give up the fiery passion that was prevalent in her heart. If he thought there was the slightest chance that he would turn into his father and make her suffer after their marriage, he would never approve of their union. But while his parents had wed for convenience, he believed that his union with Lexie would be vastly different.
He would do everything in his power to prove that it was.
As he handed his riding gloves over to the butler, he asked curtly, “My mother?”
“The duchess is in the drawing room,” came the equally cool reply. Until now, Dominic hadn’t considered replacing any of the servants, but the butler had served his father and if he hoped to make any changes to the stiff atmosphere in the house, some things would have to change. Since this wasn’t his main priority for visiting this moment, he strode down the hall.
He took a deep breath before he turned the corner and entered his mother’s sanctuary. She had always spent an exorbitant amount of time in the green and yellow drawing room. Although she hadn’t entertained guests in years, preferring the company of her own solitude, he wondered if perhaps she stayed here to remind herself of good times now past, and perhaps wish that they could be so again.
When he set his eyes on the petite woman with dark hairmixed with varying shades of gray and pushing a needle through an embroidery hoop with a neutral expression on her face, he realized that his hopes might be rather farfetched. She looked just as she had the last time he had left her.
“Hello, Mother.”
She paused and looked up, her dark eyes crinkling in the corners when she spied him. “Cuthbert. How lovely to see you.”
It was always so formal in this place. His father had been gone for twenty years, and she still refused to call him by his Christian name, determined to refer to his title, as his father would have demanded.
Clenching his jaw, he walked over and kissed her lightly on the cheek. He wasn’t surprised to see a few more wrinkles than before and he was not ignorant of the fact she had lost another stone. He realized in that moment he’d been so intent on his own devices as Avalon, he had failed to give his mother the recognition she deserved. She needed the love and attentiveness that her only surviving son could provide and he intended to right this wrong, along with so many others, very soon.
She set aside her embroidery. “Shall I ring for some tea?”
He shook his head as he sat down across from her in one of the matching wingback chairs close to the hearth, in which a cheery fire burned. It was the only bit of happiness he could find the moment he’d entered these hallowed walls. Pushing aside such unforgiving thoughts, he said, “No, thank you. I am afraid I cannot stay long.”
“Of course not, dear. You are a busy man. I shouldn’t expect you to entertain me any longer than necessary.”
There was no sarcasm or hatred in her tone, just a calm acceptance. He hated it. “I would spend more time if I could,” he felt compelled to add. “But I’m afraid there is a bit of trouble in London that draws me back to the city.”
“I’m sure you can handle whatever it is. The Eastland line is known for its fortitude and courage.”
“Indeed.” He ground his jaw. “I had hoped that someone might have arrived before me, but I see that she has not.”
She tilted her head curiously. It was the only sign thus far to prove that she wasn’t an automaton, wound up every now and then with the same responses. “Who, dear?”
“Someone who means a great deal to me and who I intend to make the next duchess.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You are betrothed?”
He loved the slight tinge of hope in her voice, however stilted, as if it had been too long since she’d felt the emotion. “I am. The first of the banns are to be read this Sunday. However, I feel she might be in danger. She was due to arrive last night with a note to you explaining who she was, but my coach was set upon by bandits. I fear for her safety.”
“Of course you do.” She reached out a hand and laid it gently on top of his. It was so slight that for a moment, he couldn’t comprehend what she was saying, his focus on that small show of affection he’d thought had disappeared. “I will be overjoyed to meet her when you can be assured that all is well.”
He squeezed her hand in reciprocation and reluctantly got to his feet. “I will return as soon as I’m able. Sooner, rather than later, I hope.”
“God speed, my son.”
Dominic was back on his horse and heading back to London before he felt he could properly breathe again. Even then, he allowed a few tears to fall unchecked.
CHAPTER 17
By the time he returned to London and made his way back to his lodgings in the East End, Dominic was ready to fall into his bed. He’d gone to his townhouse and checked for any messages and then made his way to the Crown & Sceptre, all without any further notice, until he was forced to retire and try again the following morning.
The rain that had been threatening with the red skies since that morning had finally opened up and drenched him completely through. He was dripping as he walked inside the cottage and removed his hat and overcoat. He was intending to strip the rest of his clothes when he caught sight of movement.
