Page 67 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
Through the open door he heard his mother sob. ‘I told you this day would come. How can I tell him, Edward?’
Whatever secret she was keeping, it could not be anything good.
In a couple of hours he had to face a house full of people.Damnation!He was not in the mood. He had no allies left. He could not trust his staff, or his family. He had no one but himself. He saw Katherine’s bright eyes as he thought of trust.
He had to face her at this bloody foolish dinner party too.
18
He went down late, in no mood to socialise, and set his face as he greeted guests with a false closed-lip smile.
Katherine did not come over to him and he did not go near her, but he saw her. He had seen her the moment he entered the room, clothed in the light blue satin he had chosen for her. Her hair had been curled and beautifully dressed, and the cut of the gown showed off her slender neck and pale shoulders.
When dinner was announced he wished to partner Katherine and bathe in the consolation of her company as they ate, but that was impossible; he could not single her out so blatantly.
Instead, he led his grandmother into the state dining room. The forty-foot-long table glittered with silver, cut glass and pure white linen. He left his grandmother to use the chair at one end, then walked to the other end. Aunt Penny was to occupy the seat on one side of him while Aunt Sylvia sat on the other. At least with his family positioned in order of importance, his mother was further down the table and so he need not speak to her.
She had not looked his way since he had come down.
John saw Katherine enter the room much further back, on the arm of her reverend.
What damned idiotic benevolent mood had overtaken John when he had invited that man?
The reverend was seated beside her, while Phillip was on her other side, but they were right at the far end of the table. As the dinner progressed John spoke with his aunts and uncles on shallow subjects which did not interest him, while he regularly glanced at Katherine.
Katherine stood out among his family like champagne amid red wine with her blonde hair and effervescent smile compared to the dark-haired Pembroke women.
She must have sensed his gaze, because she looked his way, then blushed and turned away again, looking at her reverend.
His refusal to see her again had upset her. He had pushed her away, but it was better things remained as they were now. He returned his attention to his aunts and his thoughts to the debacle of his own life. That was what he should focus on, resolving the issue with Wareham, and now, if he was to do it, he also needed to find out the answer to the question he had been asking all his life and never actually spoken until today.
Once the ladies had left the table, John leaned towards his Uncle Richard. ‘I was recently asked something about my past which I could not answer. I know my mother is closer to Aunt Penny than anyone else. Do you know how I came to live with my grandfather? I cannot recall, I was obviously too young to remember.’
His voice had been as nonchalant as he could make it and yet he saw his hand shaking when he moved to lift the glass of port Finch had poured.
Richard’s eyes widened as he looked back at John, a hint of wariness in his expression.
How many of the family knew John’s mother’s secret? He would guess Richard did.
‘You know your mother and father eloped?’
No, he had not even known that.
‘You did not,’ Richard confirmed.
He had not locked his expression hard enough, Richard had seen the response. All John’s facial muscles stiffened.
‘It is not my place to tell you,’ Richard continued, sounding uncomfortable. ‘The story must come from your mother not me, John.’
But Richard knew it. Who else then? John’s eyes scanned the men left in the room.
‘But I will tell you that your grandfather disowned her when she ran away to marry your father,’ Richard continued. ‘Of course it was before I married your aunt, but I know the duke went to fetch you after your birth, to protect you, John.’
‘From what?’
‘I cannot say. This is your mother’s story. Ask her.’
John’s gaze fell to his glass of port. ‘I have done. She will not speak.’
