Page 68 of Three Scandals for the Wild Duke

“I had a son first, you see,” her mother continued, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “He lived for a few hours. He came and filled us with so much hope, but he took it all with him when he left us.”

Emma noticed her mother’s trembling, and she took hold of them. “I had a very difficult pregnancy,” Caroline said softly. “The physician warned us beforehand, but after the birth, we thought it would be all right—a miracle from the heavens. When the babe died a few hours later, your father blamed me. He blamed my weakness. Because of my frailty, he said I had failed to bear him a healthy son. For the longest time, I blamed myself too. I felt I owed Tristan that. So I let him get away with everything. I let him take compensation for my inability to give him the child he wanted.”

Caroline finished with a long, weary sigh, and Emma felt tears sting her eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “You never told me, Mother. Why?”

“And burden you beyond your father’s demands?” Caroline snorted sheepishly, a bitter smile playing on her lips. “Besides, it was a shame I did not fancy sharing.”

“Oh, but it isn’t your fault, Mother. It was never your fault,” Emma squeezed her hand still in hers, her voice filled with fervent conviction.

“When I had you,” Caroline began again, her eyes distant with painful memories, “he was all but disappointed and angry that I didn’t bear him the son he’d hoped for. He swore to make both me and the child pay. Thus, I promised myself that I would protect you from his rage no matter what.”

Emma’s heart ached at her mother’s words, the weight of the past pressing heavily upon them. “Mother, you have done more than anyone could ask. You have protected me in ways I never knew.”

Caroline’s eyes glistened with tears as she met Emma’s gaze. “I wish I could have done more. I wish I had been stronger. With every insult and pain he inflicted over the years, I reminded myself that it could have been you. Better me than you. All I had to do was be his obedient little wife and keep his ire on myself and away from you," Caroline's voice trembled as she spoke, each word weighed down with years of suffering.

Emma’s chest tightened. "Oh mother, you should not have kept me in the dark about all this," she said, her voice breaking.

Caroline's eyes, red and weary, met Emma's. "That is why I wanted you to marry the Earl at whatever cost, Emma. I wanted you away from your father for your safety because he was only getting worse by the day," she explained. "Oh, do understand that I never wanted you to marry Neads, Emma. No mother would want her daughter with a man such as that."

"Now I know, Mother," she said softly, reaching for a handkerchief on the nearby side table. She dabbed at her mother's tears, her touch gentle and tender.

"Forgive me, Emma," Caroline implored.

Emma's vision blurred, yet she managed a comforting smile. "You only wanted to protect me," she said. "There is nothing to forgive, Mother."

Caroline pulled Emma into a tight embrace, her body shaking with quiet sobs. Emma buried her face in her mother's warmth, feeling the familiar scent of lavender and rosewater. She clung to her, the safety and comfort she had yearned for now within her grasp.

Emma had felt abandoned, unloved, and betrayed for years. If only she had known that it was her mother’s only way of protecting her.

A knock interrupted their embrace. “Enter,” Caroline said as she pulled away, quickly drying her eyes. The butler appeared and bowed.

"A caller, My Lady," he announced with his usual solemnity.

Emma's heart gave a hopeful little skip.

CHAPTER 29

“The Marquess of Neads,” the butler announced, and Emma instantly felt her heart sink.

What had she been hoping? For George to be her knight in shining armor and swoop in to save her from her fate? How delusional of her, she thought miserably as the old Marquess strode into the drawing room.

“Where is Dewsbury? I need to speak to him at once,” the Marquess declared without preamble.

“If you will take a seat, my lord, the Baron will join us shortly,” Caroline offered with a calm demeanor.

“Us?” Neads echoed with ostensible surprise and disdain. “Oh, do not think that I will allow you in on my business transactions with the Baron. I refuse to have women in my discussions,” he turned up his nose at them.

Emma was as indignant as she was appalled. Her mother appeared equally displeased.

“Now where is your husband, woman?” Neads demanded.

Caroline’s eyes flashed with anger. “You are in my residence, underneath my roof, Lord Neads. You will accord me the respect I deserve and comport yourself accordingly,” she ground out, her voice steady and firm.

Emma was surprised by her mother’s vivacity, a surge of pride swelling within her. Perhaps this was her mother all along, and she had only employed a different facade under their circumstances.

The Marquess gave a displeased scoff before he carried on, “I will need to negotiate a different price with Dewsbury. Now that his daughter has been compromised, she is worth less.”

He spoke of her as though she was not in the room. Emma did not know what was more shocking—the fact that her father had sold her, or that the Marquess still intended to marry her after all the curses he had rained down on them last night.

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