Page 69 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
John looked back at his mother, burning to know the truth and not knowing what to say to get it from her. Her pale eyes merely looked back into his as though they searched for something she could not see, and then she said, ‘I am not sure that he does care any more. You seem to wish to hurt us, John.’ Then she turned from him and walked away.
‘What did Richard tell you?’ Edward asked.
John stiffened his spine. ‘That they eloped and my grandfather took me from her.’
‘And I helped her fight to get you back. You were all she lived for before I met her. Do you ever remember not knowing your mother existed?’
John shook his head.
‘Because she refused to simply disappear. Your grandfather disowned her, but she still managed to keep in contact with you despite that. You should think of that, and nothing else. I witnessed your and her happiness when you were reunited. I know you care for her, and I know your mother cares for you. Stop this, John.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it will hurt your mother if you know. It is not important.’
John glared at him.
‘You cannot manipulate or threaten me, John. I did not let your grandfather do it and I will certainly not tolerate it from you. And I will not let you hurt your mother. If you are modelling yourself on your grandfather, you will be lonely, he was a hated man. Is that what you wish for yourself? No one has ever doubted your ability to take his place. You do not need to shut us all out to prove you can.’
John said nothing.
‘And you are my son in all but blood, whether you think it so or not.’ With that, Edward walked away.
John put down his half empty glass and crossed the room with brisk strides to reach the open French doors. He needed air and space.
19
Katherine watched John leave the room through the corner of her eye. He had looked at her several times during the evening but when the men re-joined them after dinner his attention was focused on his mother.
Something was wrong. His posture had seemed hostile and guarded and now he’d left his guests again, and no one apart from John’s father seemed to have noticed.
What was going on?
Biting her lip, she looked about the room. Everyone was talking, no one would notice if she went outside. No matter how much he had hurt her she couldn’t leave him suffering. She wanted to help him.
The terrace was shrouded in black, the moon invisible, and a tepid breeze stirred the trees in the park beyond it, filling the air with the sound of rustling leaves.
She couldn’t see John as she walked tentatively into the dark. But then her eyes adjusted and his tall athletically lean silhouette came into view.
He was leaning on the balustrade looking outward into the inky darkness, engrossed in thought.
‘What is wrong?’ she whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder.
His muscle jolted and then he turned so her hand slipped off. ‘Go away, Katherine.’
‘Is there a problem? Is something?—’
‘Nothing, Katherine. Go back in. You should not be out here.’ His posture was stiff and straight, both defensive and dismissive, but yet again she sensed his vulnerability.
‘John…’
‘Just go. I am only likely to hurt you more if you stay out here. I am not in the best of moods.’
She took a deep breath. How could she leave him alone when he seemed so sorrowful?
His shoulders dropped, and he reached into an inside pocket of his evening coat to withdraw a slender silver box. ‘Seeing as you will not go away you shall forgive me if I do the unthinkable and smoke.’ He took out a single slim cigar and then put the box away again. He struck a match on the stone balustrade to light it.
‘John?’
