Page 13 of Her Duke Next Door
“I do not missmypapa,” Eloise quickly said. “I was too young to remember him. But I do envy Katie having the Duke as her papa, even if he is not always able to be there for her. I wish to scold her at times when she ignores him upon his return. At least shehasa papa who eventually comes back for her.”
“Oh, Eloise,” Mary sighed. Her thoughts very much cooled down now, she opened her arms and her daughter returned to her side, cuddling in. “One day, I would like to think you can have a Papa again.”
“Did my Papa love me, Mama?”
Mary bit her tongue.He did not love anybody but his sick perversion. Thinking of that had that old, phantom stab piercing her heart. She had grown accustomed to processing that ordeal but it still hurt. She still also ached with anguish to know she had put her sister in danger many times, even if Anne said there was never anything to be sorry for.
“Your Papa did not love a great deal, Eloise,” Mary told her. “But he cared for you greatly.”
It was the best she could give without giving her daughter false thoughts. Eloise did not remember Patrick, nor the days she was a baby crying alone in her cot when Mary was visiting her family, and Patrick did not care to tend to her nor ask the nanny to because he had wanted a son and not a daughter.
Mary was thankful.
She looked across at the castle on the hill outside.
Does the Duke truly love his daughter? If he did, why would he leave her so often? And what happened to the late duchess?
* * *
The next day, in the parlor, Mary was brought a letter by the butler. She thanked him and opened it with the letter opener provided. She placed the opener back on the silver tray and the butler left.
Her hands closed around the letter’s corners as she gritted her teeth, noting the familiar handwriting of Hugh Yore, the uncle and heir of her late husband, the Earl of Yore.
Dearest Mary,
I do hope my other letters found their way to you. I have concerns they may have not, given your uncooperative silence in response. I should hope you are not ignoring my requests.
Once again, my lady, I am asking you to return to London. A young and beautiful woman such as yourself should not remain in solitude. My nephew’s passing was a few years ago now, and it is quite time for you to venture to new horizons. I beseech you to consider my marriage offer once again. Return to London, where we shall settle in Yore House, and run it together. Think of your daughter’s future. I could provide you with that security.
Do you not want what is best for her? I know Patrick would have.
My proposal awaits you upon your return. I have spoken with your family. They, too, are eager to know your response. I do believe we shall meet again at your nephew’s birthday party next month, if I am not so fortunate to see you before then.
Sincerely, The Earl of Yore
Mary gripped the damned letter, rereading it again, letting each condescending sentence sink into her skin as she shook her head. What audacity! She would never wed her late husband’s uncle. The man was in his fifties already and was truly, truly horrid. And to grasp at straws by involving her daughterandher family! It was truly audacious!
She could only hope that, given Patrick’s treatment of her family, they would not encourage her to wed Hugh Yore and that they were only eager to know her response was a quick refusal.
Mary tossed the letter into the parlor’s fireplace and went over to the canvas still set up from the day before with Eloise’s half-finished painting. Mary and the Duke sat next to each other on a checked picnic blanket, and she smiled, touching the dried painted shapes. It was a childish painting but the vision was there: a mother, a father, and a sister. Her heart ached.
How could she give Eloise what she wanted without risking her being around another dangerous man?
Mary’s gaze turned back to the castle, as it kept straying to these past few days.
She wished for another reason to run into the Duke again, even if part of her still despised and judged him for his relationship with his daughter.
ChapterFive
“If I may ask, Your Grace, how long shall you be joining us this time?” Geraldine asked after she had informed him of the stately parties that Livingston Castle often held. Sometimes it slipped his mind, and he was truly grateful for her reminding him.
“Is that a hint of petulance in your tone, Geraldine?” Dominique asked, not impressed but he could not blame her, either.
“Not at all, Your Grace,” she said. “I am merely curious. You have managed a week and a half back home already. Forgive me, Your Grace, but that seems to be impressive for you as of late.”
His pridedidswell at that fact. “Yes, well, I want to be here for Katie. I meant it when I said I want to do my best to be the father she wants me to be.”
He did not know how long he could commit to it but he would try, as he always did.
