“Oh. How fascinating!”
He couldn’t help but grin. “Do you know, I don’t believe I can think of another lady who would find it so.”
“Perhaps because they have no use for the products such places supply. ButIdo. Which is why I cannot think of anything else I would rather do than shop for flooring.” She gave him a wry smile. “I am fully invested in seeing this through to the end.”
“I know you are.” It was one of the things he admired about her, though he chose not to say so. Instead, he bid her a good day and waited until she was safely inside her garden with the gate securely closed behind her before mounting his horse and heading toward his club. From there he would continue on home before making his way to the Black Swan Inn. He’d visited the place, which sat in the pit of St. Giles, a few times with Huntley when they’d been looking for something a bit tougher than what Gentleman Jackson’s was willing to allow.
The experience had been an exhilarating one. It had given Thomas the chance to shed his aristocratic shackles and to deny proper etiquette and protocol while engaging in a brutal fight that had served to exorcise his demons, if only for a moment.
There, in the Black Swan courtyard, with sweat soaking his shirt, his title hadn’t mattered. He’d been his opponent’s equal, and he’d taken a beating he now longed to experience again, if only to banish the lust that Lady Amelia provoked.
Tightening his grip on the reins, he directed his horse to St. James Street with strict self-censorship. He really had to pull himself together and stop thinking about her. Which of course, was much easier said than done.
Chapter 12
It was raining by the time Thomas returned home and handed his hat and gloves to his butler, Jones. Climbing the stairs, he headed along the dimly lit hallway and continued toward the third door on the left. Carefully, he opened it and stepped inside, immediately conscious of the easy breathing that came from the bed. He moved toward it on silent feet until he was close enough to study the sweet innocence of Jeremy’s face, now veiled in shadowy darkness. Thomas felt his heart clench. With each day that passed, he looked more and more like his mother—a living reminder of unrestrained love and of his irrefutable failure.
Returning downstairs, Thomas entered the parlor where he found his mother enjoying a sherry. She was reading a book and looked up when she heard him come in. “There you are.” Setting her book aside, she folded her hands in her lap and gave him her full attention. “I thought I would see you for supper.”
“I decided to eat at the club.” He crossed to the sideboard and proceeded to pour himself a brandy.
“A note would have been helpful. I waited over half an hour for you to arrive. You always join me in the evenings.”
Glancing at her, he wondered at how youthful she looked in spite of her advancing years. She was in her fifties now with the occasional gray hair starting to show, but that did not detract from her beauty. “Forgive me. I should have informed you, but there was much on my mind. Returning home at a specific hour so as not to disappoint you wasn’t one of them.”
She sat back as if he’d slapped her, but then her expression hardened, her spine straightened and her chin tipped up. She glared at him much like Lady Amelia was prone to doing these days. “Sit down, Thomas.” The use of that name sent a tremor scurrying through him. She rarely used it unless she was very displeased with him. Because of that, it always carried a sharpness to it, like a blade slicing away the last twenty years of his life until he was but a little boy feeling the shame of whatever wrongdoing he had committed.
So he sat and faced her, aware he’d made her the subject of his irritation once more. She didn’t deserve it. Not after everything she’d had to suffer already. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize yet again for the rotten mood he was in, only to be cut short by her staying hand.
“I do not want you to tell me how sorry you are,” she said. “What I want is for you to explain what you are going through.” Her expression softened. “Perhaps I can help or offer some sort of advice.”
“I very much doubt that,” he told her grimly, then took a sip of his drink.
She gave him a dubious look that suggested she thought him naive. “You won’t know that unless you open up to me. This is what... the third time this week you have given me some cutting remark?” She sighed, and as she did so, her entire body seemed to deflate. “Something is going on, and I would like to be able to help.” When he didn’t answer, she asked, “Is it this business with Lord Liverpool?”
“He made no effort to gain support for my bill.” The anger and frustration he felt hardened his words. “At least I was able to convince Hawthorne and Wilmington. They would have backed it as a personal favor, but Liverpool?” He shook his head. “His dismissal probably shouldn’t surprise me when not even you were willing to give your support.”
“That is unfair. I encouraged you to do what you could—for Jeremy’s sake. The problem is I am no longer sure it would be in his best interest to inherit a duke’s title. And before you start getting defensive and insist I am against him, I am not. I love that boy with every piece of my heart. His existence means the world to me.”
Nodding, he reached out and covered her hand with his. “I know.” Their eyes met, and for a moment their mutual pain hovered between them.
“It might be easier if you were to marry.”
The comment made him withdraw his hand. He leaned back and downed the remainder of his drink in one quick gulp, relishing the way it burned his throat and numbed his mind just a little.
“That is not an option.”
“Be reasonable, Coventry. You must think of the continuation of your title.”
“Prewit can inherit,” he said, in reference to his cousin. “Or one of his sons, if he happens to die before me.”
“Well yes, I suppose that is true, but what about sharing your life with someone who cares for you? What about children?”
“I already have a son, in case you have forgotten.”
“Forgive me. I did not mean to—”
“As for a life partner...” A vision of hazel eyes entered his mind. “She would have to know everything, and I am not prepared to share that much with anyone. The amount of trust required... It simply isn’t possible.”
