Page 13 of The Duke's Cursed Bride
CHAPTERFIVE
“Thomas, we have to talk about this,” his mother said.
“Not tonight,” Thomas said. “I’m too tired.”
“You’re not too tired now. We were hardly out of the house for any time at all. You can’t possibly expect me to believe you’re so worn out from the night’s exertions that you can’t manage to have a simple conversation with your mother.”
“Believe what you like,” Thomas said. He was aware that he was being rude and wasn’t proud of it, but he didn’t think he could bear to have the conversation he knew his mother wanted tonight.
He started toward the stairs, thinking he would just hide away in his study for the rest of the evening, but she blocked his path.
He looked at her in consternation. “Please move, Mother.”
“You know I can’t do that,” she said. “Not until you have this conversation with me, Thomas. This is very important. How we handle the next twenty-four hours will mean everything to how the future unfolds.”
Thomas let out a sigh. He could see that there was no escaping this. His mother would follow him to his study if he went there. He could go to his room, but she would no doubt knock at the door and insist that he come back out, and if he refused to do so, she would catch him at breakfast. It would happen eventually, so he might as well do it now.
“In the sitting room, then,” he told her. “And please arrange for some tea to be brought in.”
He walked away from her and into the sitting room, not particularly wanting to see how she would react to that demand. He had a feeling his mother would indulge him since he was giving her what she wanted here—she wasn’t going to risk making him leave the room—but if she was angry with him, she might be difficult. He decided that she could express her anger once their conversation had actually started, but not before.
There was already a fire in the sitting room hearth. Thomas sat in front of it and stared into the flames, brooding on what had happened.
Why was it that every single person in all of society was so terrible about gossip? Why was it that no one seemed able to mind their business and keep their mouth shut? This had plagued Thomas all his life, and it seemed unlikely ever to stop. When he was younger, the gossip he had faced had all been about his father and his father’s gambling. He’d gotten a little older, and the talk had changed and had become about Thomas himself and whether he would be more satisfactory as a duke than his father had been. Then there was the gossip about who he would marry and when. This wasn’t rude talk, at least, but it still bothered Thomas to think that everyone out there was speculating about his life rather than just allowing him to live it.
And it seemed that Lady Madeleine had lived the same life in many ways. To everyone in society, she wasthe cursed ladyknown for the tragedy that had befallen her family.
But Thomas remembered her for something else.
He remembered the bark of a dog and the silhouette of a woman in the middle of the night when it was all he could do to remain conscious. He remembered lying in an unfamiliar bed and hearing her name for the first time, being told that she had found him when he was near death and had knelt over him, her hands in his wound, saving his life.
Now she was the one who needed saving.
But I don’t wish to marry.
His mother entered the room, followed by a maid with a tea tray. She sat down opposite Thomas and looked at him. After a moment, it became clear to Thomas that she was waiting for him to speak.
“I haven’t done anything,” he told her.
“The cursed lady, Thomas?”
“I did nothing. I found her in the garden, that’s all. The other ladies were being cruel to her, and I sent them off.”
“Why would you involve yourself at all? I don’t understand. What could it possibly have had to do with you?”
“You didn’t hear them, Mother. They were brutal.”
His mother sighed. “You’ve never been able to abide gossip.”
“Should I? Gossip is a horrendous habit if you want my opinion. No one ought to take part in it.”
“I agree with you, Thomas, but you can’t possibly hope to put a stop to it single-handedly, you know. People are never going to stop talking, no matter what you do. And when the topic of conversation is something as interesting as a curse that killed an entire family—”
“Interesting? Do you really call thatinteresting,Mother?”
“What would you have me call it?”
“Terrible. Tragic.”
