Page 71 of A Widow for the Earl
He turned to find his mother approaching, a cup of medicinal tea cradled between her hands. She was dressed for bed, the hem of a nightdress poking out beneath the quilted fabric of her housecoat; her hair loose, making her look younger for a moment.
“I thought you had retired for the night,” he said stiffly, for there was nowhere to hide the glass of brandy in his hand.
She stepped out onto the terrace in her slippers. “I was restless, so I came to find you.” She sighed. “Now, I can see why I was restless. I have never slept well when one of my children is troubled.”
“You must not have slept for most of the past twenty years, then,” he replied with a half-smile. “I am not troubled, Mother. I am just enjoying the sunset.”
She shook her head, sitting down on one of the iron lawn chairs that scattered the terrace. “You have not been yourself since you returned. I know you think I do not notice anything except gossip and gowns and silly things, but I notice my children more than you all think.” She paused. “Is it Prudence? Is that what worries you?”
Since his return, he had told the truth about the near-miss of a scandal, expecting Julianna to wail and shriek about the horror of it. It had jarred him somewhat when she had merely shrugged, unsurprised, and said,“Well, at least it was averted”.
“Her letter arrived this afternoon,” he replied. “There is nothingtoworry about. She is where she should be, for the time being.”
Julianna turned her gaze toward the dying sun, sipping her tea tentatively. “I am so very sorry that you have carried so much for this family,” she said in a faraway voice. “You have such sturdy shoulders that I have never stopped to consider the… sheer weight of it all. You have kept my girls safe, you have keptmesafe, and I am sorry that it fell to you.”
“There is no need for that, Mother,” he said uncomfortably, a lump forming in his throat. “It was my duty from the moment I was born; it just fell to me a little earlier than expected. But I am not sorry that I was able to keep you all safe and secure.”
Julianna shook her head slowly. “You did more than anyone should have had to do. I knewsomethingof our diminished fortune, but I had no notion of how bad it was until you began to fix it. I know you kept it from me, but Idonotice more than you think.” She glanced up at him. “And then I see you now, and wonder how much more it took from you than evenIrealized.”
“It took nothing from me, Mother,” he insisted. “It shaped me. It made me who I am. It gave me knowledge and resourcefulness and talents that I would not have had otherwise, and I get theprivilege of knowing that you—all of you—will always be taken care of. That is worth everything to me.”
His mother pulled the collar of her housecoat a little tighter against the chill of the evening. “But who will take care of you? When you build something, when you restore something, you are supposed to then be able to enjoy the fruits of your labor. I do not want you to delay your own life anymore, Vincent.”
“Where is this coming from?” he asked, bewildered.
In all the years since he had been the head of the household, he had never known her to talk like this. Not to him, anyway.
“I have had time to think about a great many things in your absence,” she replied. “And when Prudence left too, and I was here alone, it made me face a few truths that I have been avoiding. I know I have relied too heavily upon you, my dear boy, and I know how much you have sacrificed for this family. I do not want you to sacrifice any more. I do not want you to deny yourself your future, and your wants, anymore.
“But, most of all,” she added quietly, “I want to thank you. I realized while you were gone that I have never thanked you properly, and I am sorry for that.”
Vincent shifted awkwardly, taking a sip of his brandy just to give himself something to do. He could handle his mother’s tantrums and dramas and requests, but he did not know how to contend withthisversion of her, contrite and quiet.
“I give you permission to be free now,” she murmured. “You do not have to dedicate your life to us anymore. Find whatyouwant. Find whatyourheart wants. Leave Prudence to me; it is the least that I can do.”
Vincent frowned at the sunset, where pink-tinged clouds scudded across a hazy purple sky. It was so beautiful it did not look real, making him wonder, with all seriousness, whether he was dreaming. There could be no other explanation for his mother’s sudden change of behavior.
Perhaps, I am still at Wycliffe, with Beatrice, and I have just dozed off for a moment…
“I have my plan, Mother,” he replied. “Once all my sisters are wed, I will find a calm and obedient wife to be my Countess.”
And I shall pity the poor woman, for not a day will go by where I will not think of Beatrice, where my heart will not ache for her.
Julianna puffed out a breath. “But that is so much less than you deserve, Vincent. You deserve more than a strict plan that you made so many years ago.” She hesitated, as if she knew her son might not like what she had to say next.
“I suppose,” she continued, “seeing Isolde and Teresa so in love, and loved so deeply in return, I have hopes of you finding the same. Not just whoever fits the picture of what you think your wife should be, but someone youlove, madly and wholly.”
You would not be saying that if you knew who had my heart.
He did not tell her that such a woman already existed, or that he missed that woman so much that it physically hurt. He did not tell her that the past four days had been filled with the memory of kissing that woman, holding that woman close, imagining a future that would never be.
Indeed, he did not have the chance to say anything at all, as the butler came running through the drawing room, skidding to a halt on the terrace. And he was not alone, Duncan running in a second behind him.
“My lord, I tried to explain to His Grace that you were busy, but—” the butler tried to say, but Duncan cut him off.
“Beatrice has been taken,” he said, his eyes wild with worry and at least one sleepless night.
The shock struck Vincent so hard that he almost dropped his glass. “What?”
