Page 59 of The Remarkable Myth of a Nameless Lady
“Mother? What happened?”
She winced as though in pain. “It is too awful to say.”
“Did they attack you?”
She nodded weakly. “One held me down… the other… I cannot say it. I will not. Owen does not know that part of the tale, but the Duke did. It is why he did not turn me out of his home and call me a jezebel. It is why he vowed to love you as though you were his own, though it is also why he sent you away. He could not… he could not look at you without remembering what had happened to me.”
I am the product of an assault…It made him sick with disgust. He took his mother’s hand in his and held it tight, for himself and for her. Now, he had a better understanding of why she had never breathed a word of it. If Owenhadknown of this, Jacob knew his brother would not have been so quick to reveal the truth or been so cold in revealing it.
For his own part, it appalled him to the core, to think that half of his being belonged to a wretched devil who had hurt his mother. The fact thatshecould look upon him without hatred spoke of her character. She had never treated him as though she blamed him or resented him. At times, she had even been overly affectionate. Was that to make up for the manner in which he had been brought into this world? He did not know, but he felt gratitude that his mother had been able to look past his origins and love him regardless.
“I cannot comprehend one thing,” Jacob murmured. “Well, I cannot comprehend many things—firstly, how any man could hurt a woman so despicably. But, I have to ask—why would you have Father purchase this place, after such an atrocity had happened here?”
His mother slumped in grief. “It was not only for my husband’s sister’s sake, I confess.” She paused, taking a steadying breath. “I wanted to find them. I wanted to find the man who held me down and the man who dishonored me, and I wanted to punish them. I wanted to take this house and have it under English rule, to punish the Irish who had done this to me.”
“Did you ever find them?” Jacob gulped down the lump in his throat.
“No… I never did. They may have been transients, or some such individuals. I looked for them, and had your father look for them, but they seemed to have vanished.”
“Is that why you hate Ireland so much?” Jacob squeezed her hand, to let her know he was here for her.
She nodded. “It shames me to say it, but yes. Having this house under the Woodworth rule, and reigning over the Irish here, was supposed to be my victory over those who damaged me. Instead, it has become my prison. I cannot escape the things I have done, nor the people I have hurt in turn. I long to leave here, in the hopes that it may give me some peace of mind, at last.”
“Perhaps, if we were to make reparations to the Price family, that may offer you some of that peace you desire?” Jacob suggested.
His mother looked at him. “Do you think it might?”
“There is no harm in trying, and if you still do not feel content to be here, then I will make arrangements for you to return to London whenever you desire it. I may not be able to go with you, but my acquaintances there will take good care of you,” he told her.
“You have become an excellent young gentleman, Jacob.” She lifted her hand to his face and held it for a moment. “I am sorry that your welcome home has not quite been what you imagined.”
He laughed drily. “I am used to conflict, as you know, though I prefer it to be the sort of conflict I am familiar with: cannons, the sea, ships, sailors. This sort is taking much longer to figure out.”
“I hope you and Owen can find a way to forge a truce.” She sighed and leaned in to place a kiss upon Jacob’s brow.
“It is all I have hoped for, though he will have to find it in himself to be more amenable if that is ever to happen. I fear he may actually hate me.” Jacob lowered his gaze, his mind racing.
Perhaps, it would be better if I were to abdicate from this position and hand the title to Owen. It does not belong to me. This house and this country are alien to me. I am little more than an outsider—another unworthy Englishman, come to claim a title that does not belong to me.Although, in a somewhat bitter twist of fate, he realized that he was more Irish than his brother, who thought of himself as Irish.
“He does not hate you,” his mother assured. “He is angry, that is all. After your father’s illness, he became, in essence, the Duke of these lands. He has grown accustomed to the way it feels, and I suppose he is in turmoil about what is the right course of action. Your father never wanted you to be cut from the inheritance or the heirdom. I imagine Owen has some anger regarding that, as well.”
“Because he ought to be the legitimate heir?”
His mother smiled kindly. “By blood, yes. But by love and heart, no. Not once did your father suggest taking the dukedom from you. Many a time, he talked of you returning and taking your rightful place. This title was always supposed to be yours, regardless of your true heritage. Owen must come to terms with that, and everything it entails, but you must also give him time to be at peace with that.”
“If only he did not make it so hard,” Jacob muttered.
“I know.” She brushed her fingertips across his brow, to neaten up the unruly curls that fell over his forehead.
“Speaking of my brother. Do you know where I might find him? There is something I must discuss with him urgently.” He had almost forgotten about the imminence of tomorrow’s attack on the ball. He could not say anything of it to his mother, for it would be too late to turn everyone back around. Many of them would be resting for the night, before their final travel to Ravencliff, at this very moment. And, if he were to mention it to her, it would only send her into a wild panic. After the tears and turbulence she had already endured, he did not want to add to it.
She snuffled into her handkerchief. “He said he wanted to look over the fence in one of the fields.”
“At this hour?”
She chuckled sadly. “I imagine he simply wanted to take some air, and that seemed the perfect distraction. Your brother does not do anything without a purpose. He could not have said that he was going for a walk. That is not in his nature.”
“Then I will attempt to find him out there.” Jacob stood up and leaned to kiss his mother’s cheek. Her arms shot out and pulled him into a tight embrace, prompting him to put his own arms around her. She had been through so much. More than he had ever previously realized. Yes, she had made some terrible decisions regarding the purchase of this house, but who could honestly look into a mirror, and call themselves perfect? He knew he could not, and he could not judge her too harshly, now that he better understood her reasoning.
