Page 66 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
John cast his gaze at her and felt cold darkness swamp him.
‘Come on, children, out,’ his stepfather said. ‘I will walk upstairs with you. Dress in your room, Mary. Robbie, you must go and get ready too.’
When John looked at his mother a crushing disappointment swept over him. He was in turmoil internally, and he felt revulsion for her. He felt betrayed. What shameful thing had she done that would give his enemy the power of blackmail?
‘John? What is wrong?’ she said, walking towards him. She reached to touch his arm. He moved it back.
He did not want her touching him. She had deserted him and now she had deceived him.
‘Sit down,’ he said, without preamble.
She looked hurt but she did as he asked and occupied one of a pair of chairs before the window, perching on the edge of it, sitting stiffly with her hands clasped together on her lap. Perhaps she hoped he would sit in the other. He did not. ‘How can I help, John?’
‘You may tell me where you were before I was ten.’ His pitch was deep with accusation, his emotion overwhelming, although he knew his face was set like granite. ‘Where did you live? What did you do?’
Stunned shock froze her expression, and her porcelain skin paled to a sickly grey. ‘I am not having this conversation,’ was her answer as she rose. Then she crossed the room, as though she would leave.
Something like a knife blow thrust into his chest, but he was not going to let her escape this, he had waited long enough to ask, he wanted answers. ‘Then it is true,’ he growled at her, standing before the door so she could not leave. ‘You have something to hide. Are you not going to tell me what it is, Mama?’
‘Do not bully me.’ Her eyes held his, defiant and horrified.
He caught hold of her arm, a bitter feeling of dislike snapping at him, not a dislike of her, but of himself. He released her arm.
Her fingers rubbed where he had held it.
‘I’m sorry,’ he forced out. He hated himself. He hated himself for being weak and angry. He hated himself for caring about this –but I do. ‘Just tell me where you were and why you were not here.’
‘No, John.’ Her eyes shimmered with tears. ‘You are my son.’
Surely his being her child should be even greater reason to speak. He should have been the most important thing in her life then. She should have been with him.
‘Mary is right,’ she whispered then. ‘Every day you grow more and more like your grandfather. Whatever this is about, John, I am sure my past can have no bearing on it. I’ll not talk of it to you.’
‘Why would it have no bearing? Why do I not know where you were? Why were you not with me?’
His questions were not about the blackmail note. He hardly cared about it any more. Why would she not tell him?
‘And I am not likehim.’ For a start he was never going to trust anyone again. He was never going to be stung by a man like Wareham. He didn’t bloody need people, he had proved that he could live alone in Egypt, he could do it here. After tonight he would have nothing more to do with her – with any of them.
‘You are sounding like him, now.’ His stepfather had quietly entered the room.
John turned.
‘Son, what is this about?’
‘I am not your son, and I asked to speak with my mother, alone, not with you.’ His words surprised even John, but he no longer cared. They had hurt him. They had betrayed and deceived him. He did not doubt Edward knew the truth, they told each other everything.
John saw his words sting and felt glad, then hated himself still more. His stepfather had never treated him differently to the others or been unkind –but he had kept John’s mother’s secrets.Secrets which had fractured John’s life in his youth and made him half a man. Secrets which his enemy knew.
‘John.’ Edward’s hand lifted, reaching out to him.
‘I wish to know where she was and what she did, before you two were wed, before the night you came to Eton to collect me. Will you tell me?She will not.’
‘It is not my story to tell,’ Edward stated, before glancing at John’s mother.
She rushed into Edward’s arms then, sobbing.
John stared at them in silence for a moment, feeling the monster he had become, but then he turned and left, knowing he would learn nothing from them.
