Madeline’s smile widened, her whole face lighting up. “I knew lying to you to make you come would do you good! You’ve been so serious all your life, always working, always thinking of your responsibilities,” she yapped.
When he saw the blissful smile on her face, Peter was no longer mad at her for lying to him just to make him come back to Arlington.
“Someone has to keep the estate running smoothly, Madeline,” he answered.
“I just think you have to enjoy being the Duke, Brother. All these responsibilities come with their own perks as well. Ignore the rumors about you; I certainly do. Why, just yesterday, I heard a snippet of an atrocious tale, with you painted as the villain, but I refused to believe a word of it because I know that my big brother is entitled to have a little pleasure now and again without drawing suspicious looks or the ire of the entire ton.” She finished the sponge cake in her hand. “Shall I get you a slice?” she offered.
“No, but thank you,” he said.
Madeline nodded and stood up, presumably to get another slice of cake. As she walked to the buffet table, Peter could hear her chatter animatedly about the latest gossip and news with the other ladies. He listened with half an ear as his mind wandered to the other elegantly dressed guests who were passing by. They nodded their heads politely as they passed him. He was not able to recognize most of them.
“There’s Mother!” Peter almost jumped from his seat as Madeline exclaimed from behind him. She shook his shoulder, trying to get his attention.
He followed her gaze to see their mother standing near a rose arbor, deep in conversation with Lady Crawford. Her posture was regal, her expression warm as she exchanged pleasantries with their hostess. Her eyes lit up when she saw them, then she excused herself from the conversation and approached them.
“Peter, Madeline, there you are!” she greeted, her voice filled with maternal affection. “I was wondering if you ever went on that little adventure with Charles.”
Peter and Madeline exchanged looks, wondering how she could have known about the outing Charles had organized and then postponed until tomorrow. However, she was just talking to Lady Crawford, and it could be possible that she had told her about it.
“We will leave for Arlington tomorrow, Mama,” Madeline answered while picking up a slice of lemon cake and giving it a hearty chomp. She chewed, then added, “We had to postpone the excursion because I did not want to miss the banquet.”
Their mother smiled, her eyes twinkling with approval. “I’m glad you decided to stay. I know you’ve been far from your responsibilities for too long, Peter, but you work too hard. You should enjoy yourself.” She nodded as Madeline shoveled another bite into her mouth. “Do have a bit of cake, dear.”
Peter gave a small shrug, appearing nonchalant. “There’s always something to be done.”
“Of course, but you mustn’t forget to live, my dear,” their mother replied.
Madeline made a small choking noise, then her face reddened slightly. “I must fetch myself a cup of lemonade,” she wheezed, before trotting off toward the refreshments table.
Suddenly, their mother’s expression turned serious. “Speaking of living, have you given any thought to what we discussed earlier?” she asked.
She slipped into the chair Madeline had vacated and patted Peter’s hand.
But Peter had thought about their conversation and had already decided. His answer remained unchanged.
“Mother,” he began, keeping his voice even, “I appreciate your concern, but as I said, I am in no rush to find a wife. I am perfectly content as I am.”
His mother sighed, her expression softening with concern. “I know you are not the kind of person who worries about having someone permanently in your life. You prefer to be alone… or, at the very least, keep your household to yourself. But you must remember, you have a title, an estate, and a family name to uphold. You need an heir.”
“I know my responsibilities, Mother,” Peter replied brusquely. He took a deep breath so that he would not snap at his mother again.
She eyed him with a mix of frustration and sympathy. Her eyes searched his as if trying to comprehend his reason behind his reluctance.
“Darling, you have been very responsible all your life, and I’m immensely proud of you for that. But you have also been distant from me, from Madeline, from your own heart.” She patted his hand again. “It might be intriguing to drift from one relationship to the next, but finding the right woman would give you such great comfort. A proper wife could bring you so much happiness, more than you realize.”
How can you say that when you weren’t even happy in your marriage?
“I have thought this through, Mother. My decision is?—”
“But Peter…” His mother’s tone was despondent. “You cannot mean to deny yourself all the pleasures of life. The dukedom will always be yours, but what of love, partnership, and having a family?”
Peter shook his head slowly.
Either she is not listening to me, or she is determined to have her way.
Regardless of her motivations, he understood that it would be futile to continue protesting.
“I will reconsider it,” he finally said, hoping to appease her without making any promises.
