Page 68 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
‘Well, that is her choice. But remind her you are not a child any more.’
John looked up at his uncle.
‘It was not a good time, John. It will take courage for her to recall it. And you will have to show her some understanding if you expect her to talk to you about it, and that is a quality I do not think comes naturally to you now.’
John’s eyes narrowed. His uncle laughed. ‘If you glared at her like that, I am not at all surprised she did not speak. Have some sympathy, John.’
Sympathy? Who had sympathy for him? It was his life which had been affected and everyone seemed to know the truth but him.
Looking back along the table, John caught his stepfather watching them, disapproval in his eyes.
John lifted his glass, feeling utterly vindictive and sipped the blood red liquid.Fuck you.
Once he had finished his port, he rose, which meant all the other men must too, and then he led them out to join the women.
Dark callous anger rolling through his head, he went in search of his mother to share what little he had learned, but Edward watched him, so he bided his time and waited until Edward had stopped watching.
His mother broke from the knot of her sisters to collect a glass of fruit punch from a footman and he moved to intercept her, casually standing in her path a few feet away from anyone else.
With his glass of dessert wine half covering his lips so no one else could see his words John asked, ‘Why did you not tell me that you and my father eloped?’
Her gaze flew up to his and her skin paled, if that were possible, because it was already alabaster.
‘Who told you that?’
‘Richard. There is no harm in me knowing it, surely?’
‘No, John, there is no harm but it is also unimportant. What difference does it make?’
‘Then why not tell me?’
‘Because—’
‘Richard also told me Grandfather took me from you after I was born. Why would he do that?’
Her gaze skimmed across John’s face. ‘John…’ She took a breath.
‘Why did you never tell me?’
‘Because you knew it. You were with him and you knew I wanted you with me.’
‘Did I?’
Her forehead furrowed. ‘John? Do you not remember me writing to you? I wanted you back but your grandfather would not let you go…’
‘Why?’
Her expression fell.
‘Let it be, John,’ she whispered after a moment. ‘Please. It does not matter. It is in the past.’
‘It matters to me.’
Ever protective, his stepfather arrived and his hand slipped about her waist. ‘Are you stirring up a wasps’ nest again, John? Leave it, or someone will get stung.’
John’s gaze locked with Edward’s. ‘Who?’
‘The people you are supposed to care about,’ Edward answered, looking both exasperated and condescending, if that were possible. ‘Your family.’
