Page 134 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
His head lifted and his fingers gripped tighter about the glass. He stared at the portrait of the old man and sipped the brandy. Its heat slid into his veins as did hatred.
That devil had disowned and left his mother for dead, because she had eloped with a man he did not like. That devil had sired a son out of wedlock, a far worse sin, and harboured him at Pembroke Place. Living life as though he were pure of sin, when his heart was dark as jet beneath.
Disgust, revulsion and anger swelled and pulsed. The last vestige of John’s sanity slipped and drawing back his hand, John threw the glass at the picture.
The brandy smeared his grandfather’s face.
It did not ease John’s rage. With a growl he swiped the contents off the desk. Then he turned to the mantel and saw the hunting statues his grandfather had loved. Striding across the room, he grasped one, and threw that at his grandfather too. It tore the canvas. He threw another, growling as he hurled it.
Then he picked up a vase the old man had had shipped from Florence and hurled it to the floor. It shattered.
‘John! What the hell is going on?’ His father was at the open door.
John’s chest heaved with heavy breaths when he turned. ‘If he was alive I would kill him.’
Edward shut the door. ‘When he was alive I often wished to. But destroying his things is not going to help Katherine.’ Edward crossed the room.
John felt ten years old again, helpless. ‘I cannot do this.’ The desire to weep washed over him.
‘You can, and you will. She needs you.’
‘I let her down. We argued last night and I walked away. She asked me three times to tell her why I had dismissed Wareham. I did not tell her. I considered it nothing to do with her. We argued because she hates me shutting her out. She wants me to rely on her. She cannot rely on me…’ John looked up at the ornate ceiling. ‘I cannot live without her.’
His father came closer. ‘This is not your doing. It is Wareham’s, and if Katherine is to recover she needs you, and she is not the sort to lay blame, John.’ Edward braced John’s shoulder. ‘You will get through this, and your marriage will become what it ought. People take time to get to know each other, and Katherine is right. It is not just Kate you close yourself off from. I know it is from a need to be strong?—’
‘Because I am not strong… If people saw this, and knew me…’
‘They would see a man who loved his wife. There is no harm in that. Look at your Uncle Richard or Robert. Do they hide their affections? Do they hold people distant? Are they seen as weak? It was too late for your grandfather to change when he discovered how much he had hurt your mother. It is not too late for you. Listen to Katherine. She is good for you…’
Edward’s hold firmed on John’s shoulder. ‘Now, go and change your clothes. The servants will clear this up. You will want to be ready when Katherine wakes.’
‘I wish to be your friend and your helpmate as much as your wife…’
John embraced Edward briefly.
‘No one doubts you, John. Look how you have managed. You are respected. Focus on being happy now and making Kate so.’
‘I will try.’
‘As I once told your mother, I do not accept trying. Trying is not good enough. Change. You can.’
John nodded agreement before turning away. His birth father could have loved him no more than Edward did.
49
John stripped and washed then returned to Katherine’s bedside.
‘She is not conscious,’ his mother said when he entered the room. ‘But the wound has been stitched and the doctor said her heart seems strong. She just needs time.’
He looked at Katherine. Her head rested on the white pillow, her skin paler. She had lost a lot of blood.
She would have scars to remind them both of this, scars which would remind him he had failed her.
He moved a chair, placing it beside the bed, and took up his vigil.
‘The child is unharmed,’ his mother said, ‘and Katherine is to have fluid whenever she rouses…’ It all washed over him. He just wished her to open her eyes and speak.
‘You may go, Mama, I will stay.’
