“Cora?”
A line of concern appeared between the girl’s brows. “Yes.”
“She doesn’t work here any longer, either. Now go. Put on your clothes. Run away.”
“The duke won’t like that. He expects me here. Wants me in his bed whenever he needs me.” She made it sound as if she was being a good soldier.
In answer, Lucy walked over to the bed, kicking the bottles aside as she made her way. She grabbed her son’s head by the hair and lifted it up. His breath was foul as he began coughing and coming to his senses. Bruises marred his handsome features. A squinting eye appeared blackened.
And then Christopher realized he was looking at the face of his mother.
His reaction was everything she could have wished. He scooted to the other side of the bed, pushing his companion to the floor. She landed with a thud while he grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around his privates.
“Mother?What are you doing here?”
“Delivering an ultimatum.”
“A what?” He frowned and scratched his whiskered jaw as if his mind was still sleep fogged.
“I hope that Mr. Thurlowe looks worse than you do.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Ah, so you can admit that.”
The girl stood up. She’d found a shift on the floor to cover herself and pulled it over her head. Placing her hands on her hips as if she was a princess of the realm, she frowned at Christopher as if he should be defending her. The unlucky chit was about to learn a harsh lesson.
Lucy focused on her son. “Dismiss the girl. She is no longer welcome on this property.”
“Mother—”
“Dismiss her.”
He frowned. He didn’t like being backed into a corner... still, a part of him was her beloved son. “Sarah, be on your way. My mother and I need to talk.”
“She said I don’t have a position here. Cora, either.”
“We will talk later, Sarah.”
The cheeky lass looked from the duke to the duchess and then tramped out.
After the door slammed behind her, Winderton said, “You have no right to walk in here like this, Mother. I am the duke.”
“And I’m your mother. That gives me higher rights than you will ever have. You are done here, Christopher. You need to return to London or wherever you wish to go.”
“I wish to be in Maidenshop.”
“That is not possible. You will not stay here and shame this family with your behavior.”
“I’ve done nothing shameful—”
Lucy’s hold on her temper snapped. “You certainly haven’t done anything ducal.I know that much of the resistance Gemma Estep has received over The Garland is ofyourmaking. Whose idea was it to fill her establishment with chickens?Whoamong that sorry band of followers you have been cultivating has the resources to secure that many chickens? It must have taken you days.”
“I thought it would be a lark.”
“A schoolboy lark, yes. Unfortunately, that is not what we expect from a duke.”
“The fellows thought it was fun.”
