Page 8 of A Virgin for the Duke of Scars
“There, there, Mother,” she said instead, hoping that her voice was reassuring enough to the distraught woman. “What kind of daughter would I be if I held everything against you?”
The Marchioness patted her cheek affectionately with a tearful smile. “You are much too kind, my dear. Now, I shall leave you to rest. We have had quite a journey, after all. And do not worry about dinner—I shall have the maids send it up to you after you have rested. All you need is to ring this bell”—she gestured toward a hanging cord—“and they shall attend to you posthaste.”
Theresa tilted her head slightly. “Am I not dining with you and Father and Hope tonight?”
The Marchioness stiffened, her trembling lips turning two shades paler.
“No need for that, my dear.” She shook her head. “Your father is attending to the wedding guests tonight, and Hope is… inthe midst of preparations. There will be time enough to meet everyone tomorrow at the wedding.”
“I see.” Theresa pushed down the disappointment with a bright smile. “In that case, I shall not inconvenience you further, Mother.”
The Marchioness reached for her, and for a moment, Theresa hoped that she would hug her. That she would finally feel the warmth of her mother’sarms around her…
But the Marchioness reached for her hands instead. “You are truly the kindest child,” she murmured and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I shall leave you to your rest now.”
When she closed the door behind her, Theresa stood there amidst the silence.
Here she was, surrounded by an opulence she could never have imagined at the nunnery, and still, she could not shake off the bitter cold that seemed to wrap around her heart.
She stared at the crackling flames in the fireplace and wrapped her arms around herself. Perhaps she was a greedy, selfish little thing, as Sister Mary had often admonished her.
She closed her eyes and put a hand over her heart, her lips moving slightly in a silent prayer.Lord, please calm these wild desires within me.
But no sooner had her mind formed the words when another image flashed behind her closed eyes—that of a man wading waist-deep into the water, his hands covered in blood, his features shrouded in secrecy.
Theresa could only pray harder.
Aaron growled in frustration as he carelessly tossed his jacket onto the sofa.
It was all a sham. Hollow pageantry of the worst sort. A vulgar display of royal generosity that made a complete and utter fool of him.
And he had no choice but to accept it and even pretend to begratefulfor it.
It would have been much better if Her Majesty had never issued that decree and left him to wallow in his nice little puddle of self-pity. Preferably with an unlimited supply of his favorite whiskey.
“I had hoped to find you in better spirits, Aaron Lennox, and not deep in spirits!” A sharp voice reprimanded him.
He peeled open one eye to find an old woman leaning heavily on a cane, her eyes bright even in the dim candlelight.
“Grandmama,” he murmured. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence tonight?”
“Oh, you can stop pretending to be obtuse with me, boy. I have known you ever since you came squalling into this world naked!”
“It would have been an absolute miracle if I came out fully clothed,” he drawled.
She rapped the cane on the floor, but she looked as if she would rather hit him over the head with it.
His grandmother was over twice his age, half his size, and probably a third of his weight, but a single glare from her still made him want to crawl to whatever hiding spot was nearest.
Bloody hell, why were dowagers incapable of minding their own business? The lot of them seemed to regard meddling in their children’s—grandchildren, in his case—affairs as a competitive sport, all of them trying to outdo each other on who could be the most exasperating.
“It is your wedding day tomorrow.” She rapped her cane again. Louder, this time. “Is your young bride supposed to find you more than a trifle disguised at the altar?”
“I have obtained a special license, so it will not be in front of the altar.”
“Do not get smart with me, Aaron Lennox!”
He groaned. First, she complained that he was being obtuse. Now, she bemoaned that he was being smart with her.
