Page 15 of A Bluestocking for the Wicked Duke
“You would have a lot of explanations to give because of your injured arm,” his mother told him.
William looked back and saw Lord James had settled into the chair behind him. His mother was beside him, looking at his eyes, seeking out his answer before he said it.
“I’ll tell him the truth; he’ll get to know it one way or another,” William replied, meeting her gaze fully.
She nodded, seeming satisfied with his reply.
“Let us leave. He needs to rest without noise,” Duchess Henrietta said.
She was the first to leave the room, followed closely behind by her ever doting daughter. Lord James stood up and moved close to William but William told him not to worry.
“I need to get used to doing things in this injured state.”
After a short painful walk to the door, William opened the door to see his mother staring at him.
“I forgot to mention. We need to talk William, I want to see you before the end of the day,” she said.
William was surprised at her request.
Mother calling you to see her is never for good news.
William did not want to wait much longer for unsavoury information.
“Can’t we see now? Why wait?” William said to her.
The Duchess nodded her head and turned around, not bothering to wait for her son walking slowly behind her. William turned back to Lord James.
“You can go to my chambers James, I’ll be with you shortly,” he said.
Lord James said nothing back; his reply was a blank stare. William turned back to follow his mother. He was sure he had understood him.
The Duchess had continued walking to her room; she was several paces in front of William. William could see her stiffer gait as she took each step. She was also getting older. It showed in the grey that peeked through her dark mane. She had gained weight, not such that she became fat but enough to know she wasn’t the young woman she once was. Her voice had peaked up a note, sometimes becoming shrill and causing William to wonder if it was his mother speaking. Her mind was still sharp and more astute than ever and William was grateful for that. He didn’t think he could take two parents who had lost their wits.
“Father hasn’t lost his wits; he’s just too ill to use it,” William soliloquized, chiding himself for even thinking about it.
He was so deep in thought he didn’t notice he had gotten to his mother’s chambers till he heard her call on to him.
“You can come in William. Why stand at the doorway?” she said.
William shook his head, bringing himself back to reality and walked into her room. Her room was just as he remembered: bright and orderly. She ensured she aired her room daily; she detested bad smells coming from living quarters. William turned around, taking count of everything in the room. He couldn’t see one thing that was wrongly placed. There were fresh flowers in vases. There was not a single apparel flung on the arm of a chair or over books. Her shoes were out of sight. He looked to her wardrobe and saw them; the beloved French history books. The Duchess claimed her mother had salvaged them from their personal library in France on their escape to England, she had given them to her daughter who had gone through them only after marriage. Duchess Henrietta meant to pass them to Regina.
“I want you to know where you are coming from. You are French too,” she would say.
William shook his head as he compared the state of his quarters to his mother’s. He had stopped wondering why his father was so fond of her a long time ago; the reasons were obvious and plentiful. He turned to face his mother who had taken her seat on the chair beside the window.
Why do you like windows so?
“William, sit down, you won’t like what I am about to say,” she told him.
William nodded his head and sat on the chair beside her.
“When your father gains strength I will inform him of my thoughts on all the folly that has taken place while he was unconscious. He will not be pleased I tell you,” she said.
William didn’t respond. There was no need, his father would be incensed. The duel had been completely unnecessary.
“I will suggest we get you married,” Duchess Henrietta continued.
William turned swiftly to face her. She wasn’t looking at him; instead she had her eyes closed as if already imagining how things would be. William didn’t like where the conversation was leading to. He was not ready to settle down yet and intended to make that clear to her.
