Page 3 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
“Lord Barwicke…” she whispered, her voice no more than an angry hiss, “Has he been providing us financial aid? Surely that has to be it, to explain what we have been fortunate to have recently. But then…”
Where did the pieces fall?
“You have been very secretive of late. Your demeanor has changed. You have become easily startled.”
Her eyes were uneasily flickering around her as she turned over each card in her suit, trying to find what matched.
“And, of course, Lord Barwicke’s appearance in our garden at such a late hour…”
All the cards faced upwards. And when she next met her mother’s gaze, the older woman covered her mouth and turned her face away, as if ashamed.
Veronica shivered, unable to believe what she had come to conclude.
That Lord Barwicke had been taking advantage of her mother in exchange for his financial wealth. The meetings in the study, the late escapades, the reluctance to talk.
Devastation began in her stomach, a pit of dread spreading upwards until it choked her, and she let out a small, pained sound. Lord Barwicke’s fortune was endless; her mother’s wellbeing was not.
She finally crossed that ravine to gather her mother into her arms. The Dowager Countess cried harder, her sobs muffled into her daughter’s nightdress. Veronica’s arms held her mother tighter than ever before.
“It is quite terrible,” her mother wept. “It is really quite terrible, and I am ashamed, but I do not know what else I can do.”
“Mama,” Veronica said again, helpless as she comforted her mother. “Do not fret. We shall find a way out of this. Ishall help you find a way out of this.”
But Judith was already shaking her head and pulling away, dabbing at her eyes. “There is no way out. He has me quite ensnared, and our finances require his help.”
“Not at such a price!” Veronica hissed in disbelief. “I cannot allow this to continue.”
Judith’s gaze on her was that of sympathy, as if she pitied her for her thoughts. But then it turned sad as she looked towards the doorway of Veronica’s brother.
“I do wish Robert would be found,” she lamented. “It has been a year, and losing my husband was quite enough to grieve through. To lose my son as well…”
“He is not lost forever,” Veronica said although sometimes she thought that herself. “He will return to us.”
And both were rather lost but in very different ways. Both men were lost to them.
“Any moment, news will be sent of my brother’s discovery,” she added.
Silence settled—for they both knew that discovery could very well be a body and not a man who had simply adventured too far. The silence unnerved her. She did not want her mama distressing.
“I know it has been a year since his disappearance, and having no letter or sighting from him has been hard, but it shall be all right,” Veronica promised her mother, nodding.
“I am sorry for questioning so much, Mama. I could only sense that something was amiss. Let us retire, for things shall work out in the end.”
Now it was her turn to put on the false cheer as she walked her mother back to her bedroom.
The Dowager Countess lingered in the doorway, her hand reaching to cup Veronica’s face. In the shadows of the night, with only the moonlight to highlight them, her mother suddenly looked much older.
“Goodnight, Veronica.”
“Goodnight, Mama,” she answered softly before retreating to her own bedroom once again.
Unable to help checking outside in case the horrid Lord Barwicke was lingering about—which he did not seem to be as the gardens were still with nary a shadow out of place—she finally climbed back in bed, her heart pounding.
“Iwillfind a way,” she whispered to herself, pulling her sheets higher up to wrap away the chill of doubt. “I will, for if Robert is dead, then I have no other choice.”
Chapter Two
“Idare point out that I invited you to tea to speak of theton’sgoings-on, not to watch you gaze out of the window like a book heroine, Veronica.”
