Page 94 of A Bargain with the Rakish Duke
Thomas led him upstairs, his footsteps heavy on the polished wood. Kenneth’s gaze darted to each door they passed, his heart leaping with each one.
Which one is Beatrice’s?
His fingers itched to reach out and knock. But Thomas seemed to read his mind, his voice firm as he spoke, “If Beatrice wants to see you, she’ll come to you, Kenneth. Until then, you’ll respect her need for space.”
Kenneth wanted to argue, to demand that he be allowed to see his wife, but the long journey had rapidly caught up with him. His limbs felt heavy, his eyes gritty with fatigue.
As Thomas opened the door to the guest room, Kenneth stumbled inside, barely registering the opulent furnishings or the soft glow from the fireplace. He sank onto the bed, his body surrendering to the plush mattress and silken sheets.
I’ll rest for a moment. Just a moment, and then I’ll find a way to see Beatrice.
But even as the thought crossed his mind, sleep claimed him, dragging him down into a dreamless oblivion. The last image that flashed through his mind was of Beatrice’s face, her eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.
Beatrice sat with Catherine in the library, their heads bowed together as they pored over a book of poetry. The morning sun streamed through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room.
Despite the events of the previous day, Beatrice found solace in her friend’s company, in the familiar comfort of the written word.
Just as Catherine was about to read a particularly moving passage, the butler entered the room, his expression grave. “I apologize for the interruption, Your Grace, but there is a visitor demanding to see the Duchess of Dunford.”
Beatrice and Catherine exchanged a curious glance.
“Who is it, Mr. Jameson?” Catherine asked, setting the book aside.
The butler cleared his throat, his discomfort evident. “It is Lady Afferton, Your Grace.”
Beatrice felt her stomach sink, a sense of dread washing over her. She had not seen her mother since her wedding, and the prospect of facing her now, after everything that had happened, filled her with trepidation.
Catherine placed a comforting hand on Beatrice’s arm, her eyes filled with understanding. “We will face her together, my dear. You are not alone.”
“You do not have to do this, Cathy. Especially with everything that happened with Patrick, I feel?—”
“No, Bea. You are my friend. What happened with Patrick is in the past. He is gone now. But you are here with me, and what kind of friend would I be if I let you do this alone?”
A smile formed on Beatrice’s lips.
“Thank you, my friend.”
“No need to. You’re my best friend, and I love you. And I will not allow anyone I love to face their battles alone,” Catherine said and pulled her into a hug, squeezing her.
Beatrice squeezed back as lightly as she could, considering her condition.
“Oh, for goodness’s sake, Bea, I am pregnant, not made of twigs,” Catherine teased.
Beatrice chuckled, some of the tension already leaving her body. She was so grateful for that.
After they pulled back, Beatrice took a deep breath, steeling herself for the confrontation to come.
“All right. I’m ready,” she told Catherine.
The Duchess of Newden nodded to Mr. Jameson. “Please show her to the parlor. We will be there shortly.”
As they made their way to the parlor, Beatrice could hear her mother’s shrill voice echoing through the halls, her tone laced with anger and disapproval. She braced herself, jutting her chin with a quiet resolve.
Lady Afferton stood in the center of the room, her posture rigid and her face twisted with rage.
“Beatrice!” she snapped as Beatrice and Catherine entered. “How dare you behave in such a manner? All of London is whispering about how you left your husband’s home in a hurry, and then the Duke ran after you on a horse like a madman. How dare you behave this way and tarnish our family name like that? You are a terrible daughter and an even worse duchess!”
Beatrice flinched at her mother’s words, the familiar sting of criticism cutting deep. But before she could respond, Catherine stepped forward, her eyes flashing with indignation.
