Page 41 of A Scandalous Love for the Enticing Duke
“Alan, is that you?”
He looked up at his mother as she stepped out of the drawing room. With one look, she instantly knew something was terribly wrong.
“Oh dear. Come on. I have just finished brewing tea. We shall take some, and when you are up to it, you shall tell me everything.”
He followed her to the drawing room, and they did just that, had tea and talked about all that had just happened. When he finished recounting the tale to his mother, he felt empty like he had been purged. All these years, and he had ended up losing on more than one end.
As Regina Sheldon watched her son go up to his chambers, resigned to fate, she sent for a piece of paper and quill. Alan might have given up so soon, but she did not believe a word that had spilled from the Duchess’s mouth. If her son would not fight for his happiness, then she did not mind doing it for him. She knew of their plans, and they had to go on.
As she settled down with the paper and quill, she began to write.
Dear Benjamin…
Chapter 27
Embroidery … it was Agnes’s escape these days. Especially since there was little else she could do to keep herself from thinking about Alan, that night, and the fact that she would have to marry Nicholas. There was no way out now; as the wedding date drew nigh, that became clear, and she was finally beginning to accept her fate. She cast a look at the many needleworks she had completed in the past days. Her mother had been right after all. Perhaps, if she had not been born into such a privileged home, life wouldn’t have been so bad for her. She really was good at what she did, and she would have made an honest living off it. More than that, she would have been free to marry a man of her choosing. Perhaps not Alan, for she doubted she would have met him still, under that circumstance. Regardless, she was certain that she would have met another man who would have made her soul sing, and then she would have fallen in love with him, and he with her. Then, they would become one and live happily ever after. A fairytale, one might call it, but one could dream. As for all of her works, she planned on selling them off and giving the profits to the less privileged. Like the ones she often saw by the roadside, apparently homeless and hungry. Yes, that would do a lot of good. She supposed there always was a blessing in disguise in every situation. One just only had to look closer.
A knock sounded on her doors, and she called out to usher the person in. She looked up as soon as her doors came open and beheld her mother. Before she could acknowledge her presence, Victoria addressed the maids.
“Leave us.” The way her mother sounded arrested her attention. She instantly knew something was amiss. She held back her questions until the last of the maids left and closed the doors behind them. Then, she rose from the wooden chair she often used for her work and joined her mother by her bed. A terribly boring life she lived; she was aware of this. Needlework, outing, tea time. Perhaps if she had not been born a Duke’s daughter, she would have lived an otherwise exciting life. The list of what could have been seemed to get longer by the minute, yet, she could not suffer herself to have any regrets. Many wished for what she had, she knew this. She had to remain grateful, beyond it all. No one had it all.
Okay, quit it! she chided herself as she reached her mother. Those thoughts had been nothing but distraction from the grim look on her mother’s face. She feared that something grave had happened and was not too keen on receiving any awful news. But if she must, she would. With that resolve, she gestured at her bed. As they sat down, a parchment in her mother’s hands caught her attention.
“Is all well, Mother?” She kept her voice as light as possible, even as she prepared for something heart-breaking. Her mother wasn’t one to stall; she announced it as it was. Yet, her hesitation was obvious. Whatever weighed heavily on her mother’s lips was not something to be taken lightly.
Refusing still, to say a word, Victoria raised her hands to hold her cheeks. She could see the sadness in her mother’s eyes and the dread took over her being.
“You will have to speak at some point, Mother. Tell me. What has happened?”
It was at that moment that she finally decided to speak. “Oh dear. I am so sorry. I was going to be cross with you, but I cannot find it in me to do so any longer, not after this horrible discovery.”
Agnes’s breath caught in chest as her heart flew to her throat. She had not done anything of late to get her mother cross. If she was, then it simply meant one thing. She knew. Her throat suddenly felt parched, so she swallowed her saliva in her attempt to moisten it.
“What have you discovered, Mother?” She had to be certain. She might be wrong – this could just be one of her mother’s performances, some sort of prank. It would not do to expose herself without being completely certain that she had been caught. The hope she had been nursing got crushed as soon as her mother spoke again.
“Agnes, I believe you know what it is I am talking about.” How did her mother know she had been making guesses? Had she betrayed anything in such a brief moment? Trying one more time, she evaded the question.
“I embroider, Mother. I also make a mean caribou stew when I am allowed, but I’m afraid I do not possess the power to read minds.”
She was rewarded with a small smile as Victoria gave her cheeks a soft squeeze and withdrew her hand. “You may as well. After all, it is rumoured that your father’s grandmother–”
“– was a witch. Yes, Mother, I am aware of the rumour. It is too often told, yet you know who people consider to be her spun. Now please, let me know that which you learned that has left you so grim. Is someone ill?” A thought struck her as she said that.
“Wait … it is not Nicholas’s father, is it?” The Duke had been making slow recovery in recent times, and everyone was hopeful that perhaps, he may yet overcome this dreadful illness. Surely, he could not have been taken away so soon?
“What? Of course not. The Duke is well.” Relief washed through her at her mother’s reply. So what was her mother going on about? This suspense was killing her.
“You may want to tell me what it is that has happened, anytime from now, Mother.”
She hated the anxiety that was crawling up her spine. If truly her mother had found out about her secret, then this must certainly be a ploy to get her to tell the truth. She mustn’t, not before her mother let the cat out, herself.
Victoria stared at her, long and hard, but Agnes refused to budge; she simply looked away, unable to hold her gaze. Finally, the older woman spoke.
“Very well then. If you insist you do not know that which I speak of, then I shall tell you myself. I know … of your affair with the merchant, Alan Sheldon. I am aware. Although, I must confess, I only recently learned of it, and of course, you can imagine how appalled I was by the news and the great disappointment I experienced. A merchant, of all people, Agnes? I had hoped I did a better job raising you.”
Agnes’s world came falling apart at that moment as her heart sunk. What she had feared all these years had finally come to pass, and now, she had to deal with the consequences that were certain to come as punishment for her lack of conduct. How much did her mother know? Did she know how long this had been going on? Did she know how far she and Alan had gone? Her mother must have had powers to read minds, for she promptly answered the questions in her head.
“I do not know exactly how long this has been going for, but I am inclined to believe it has been years. Above that, I considered if you had been so foolish enough to lose your virtue to that … man.” The distaste in her voice was apparent. There was no love lost between her mother and Sheldon. There never would be; Agnes knew this.
