Page 43 of Matters of a Duke's Heart
He forced himself to knock, to not be a coward.
Giving a sharp rap on the door, he waited. Felicity did not answer him, and Spencer didn’t try again.
***
The candle on Spencer’s desk in his study flickered, casting light over the document he was poring over.
He was approving the request a tenant had made, asking for more land, and he wanted to make sure the terms were correct for everyone involved.
His eyes strained. Words swam a little, and he knew he had to take a break, but he forced himself to keep on working. If he could not make his marriage work, or be the father his son needed, then he had to at least be a good duke.
But he couldn’t help leaning back into his chair just for a moment, just to settle his focus somewhere else that wasn’t the report. As he did, his eyes closed, only to snap back open at the sound of a quiet knock on the door. He arched a brow, looking toward it.
“Yes?”
Was it Felicity, come to speak with him regarding their now-four days of silence?
But when the door opened, it was a sight he hadn’t expected to see, for his son stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and curious if not a little hesitant.
“Papa, may I come in?”
Spencer straightened up and nodded. “What brings you to my study, Alexander?”
Alexander hesitated again, and Spencer feared he had sounded too strict, too challenging, as if his son interpretated it as why are you bothering me, Alexander? Still, he walked in and closed the door behind him. Scrambling to sit on the chair opposite the desk, Spencer watched him, wondering what was going on. Alexander never came to his study, barely ever approached him directly.
“I hope it is all right I visit you in here.” Alexander looked around, interested, and kicked his feet back and forth. “It has suddenly gone very quiet in the house, and I do not like it. I would try to make more noise to help the silence, but that makes you cross.”
“Only when I am trying to work, or if your noise comes with a prank or to shout at your tutor,” Spencer told him, trying hard to keep his voice neutral.
He didn’t know how to be soft-spoken with his son, but he could attempt not to sound stern. Soon, those innocent brown eyes landed on his own. Spencer had to look away, for they were so like Sophia’s.
“What is wrong?” he pressed when his son didn’t answer.
“Did I do something bad the other day, Papa?” Alexander asked. “I had to go to my room, and I did not get my sweets.”
How simple a child’s mind worked, but how sad it was that he thought he had been bad by such an indication. That a lack of sweets had weighed on his mind for days, and only now had he brought it up. Spencer’s heart caved a little.
“No,” he told him quickly. “You have not done anything bad, Alexander.”
“Then has Miss Felicity?”
Spencer stilled. “No.”
“So, it is you, then.”
It was not quite an accusation, and he heard the confusion in Alexander’s voice. Spencer sighed and put away his report. “No.”He paused. “Well… sometimes… sometimes, adults can say the wrong things in the wrong moments. Or perhaps the right things in the wrong way. Do you understand?”
Alexander frowned, but nodded. “Is it like when I tell Mr. Hemming that I am right, and he is wrong, but I say it badly?”
Spencer had to wince at that, but he laughed quietly. “I believe you might not be the one in the right in those situations, Alexander.”
“You are never there to know that,” his son mumbled, at once sounding so upset and bitter, yet soft. It was not said with the usual volume and tantrum that Alexander spoke with. Instead, his son sounded… defeated. Something pierced through Spencer’s chest, spearing right into his heart, something that tasted like blame. It was sharp and horrible on his tongue, but he forced himself to swallow it because it was true. He was never there, not unless it was time to scold Alexander.
“You always think I have done something wrong,” Alexander sniffed. “And I only ever want to show you that I have not. Not always. I can be good, Papa, I promise.”
“Oh, Alexander,” Spencer said quietly. Heavens, he wanted to hug his boy, but there was so much distance, and he didn’t know how to say everything that was welling in his heart. Words didn’t seem like enough, but he hadn’t been a physically affectionateman in many years, and especially not to Alexander. “You are very good. And sometimes you are naughty.”
“And sometimes you shout too much. Miss Felicity told me to tell you if I think that, and I do. She said it is fine if you know it.”
