Page 13 of How to Seduce a Duke this Autumn
The dowager Duchess of Rotheworth, Lady Carmen Cross, wouldn’t be ignored so easily. Seated elegantly in the corner like a queen surveying her subjects, she sighed softly. “Handled, yes. But when,hijo mío?” Her voice always sounded softer in her native tongue since the Spanish words lulled Adam into a sense of comfort. It was why he’d always been the best at school, then at Oxford—Latin was in his mother tongue and in his blood, the foundation for science, law, and even grammar. “These matters demand immediate action.”
He finally met his mother’s sharp, dark eyes.
Her hair, streaked now with gray strands, remained tied in its customary coiled twist. The brilliant scarlet shawl contrasted with the black mourning dress as if the fire draped around her shoulders spoke louder of her origins than any word she could utter. The corners of his lips lifted. She hated drab-colored clothing. Adam leaned forward, sliding the stack of papers toward him. “I’ll speak with Woolridge tomorrow about the accounts. These repairs on the tenant cottages—” He gestured toward the solicitor. “That will begin as soon as the weather allows. And the tenants should be informed.”
“Always the responsible son.”
The solicitor rose with a creak of stiff joints, murmured polite goodbyes, and left as a servant ushered him out. The heavy oak door thudded shut, leaving an odd silence in its wake.
His mother moved then, rising from her corner with the grace of a woman half her age. She crossed to Adam’s desk and placed a thick, cream-colored envelope in front of him. “And now, responsibilities of another kind. You’ll make yourself useful to society as well,mi hijo. This arrived just this morning.”
He glanced at the invitation but didn’t touch it. “A ball? Mother, this is hardly the time to—”
“You’re wrong,” she interrupted, her hands resting firmly on the edge of the desk. Her fingers, adorned with rings of gold, diamonds, and a blood-red ruby, tapped impatiently. “This is precisely the time. Your banquet after confirmation in the House of Lords was too modest. Mourning has ended and your life goes on; you’ll not vanish into this study and become a recluse. The estate depends on public perception as much as anything else. You know that.”
“I can fulfill my obligations without masquerading at a ball,” Adam said, his voice tight.
Her eyebrow arched. “Do you think your father wanted to go to balls? He understood how to maintain appearances.” Her expression softened, and her voice, though firm, carried a note of tenderness.
“You must go, Adam. There are alliances to be made, reputations to uphold. And, perhaps, opportunities you would not expect. And let’s not avoid the pressing matter that you need to find a wife.”
“Do not start with that. I’m not marrying.”
“Fine, but you still need to go.” She slipped the invitation closer to him. Her movement stirred the faintest scent of citrus, the perfume she had worn for as long as he could remember. Adam sighed and picked up the envelope. He pulled free the card engraved in flowing gold script, reading it with reluctant attention. He set it down again.
“Do you even know who is attending? I’ve no patience to flatter idle fops today.”
“You think I don’t know you?” She pushed a long list of names toward him. “The Countess of Worthington is a close friend of mine. She sent me the list of everyone attending. I’vemarked all the important names, and you’ll do well to develop connections with them.”
Ever detailed-oriented.
Adam bristled at the idea of spending time among the Ton instead of riding out to the country to look after the estate.
But his gaze flicked over the names to humor his mother. Suddenly, he stopped on one person.
There it was.
Her name.
Lady Charlene Fielding.
The breath he’d drawn caught in his chest. He pushed the list back carefully, as if it might crumble under the weight of his stare.
“What’s the matter? You’ve gone pale,” his mother said, studying him intently. “Is something troubling you?”
He shook his head once, his throat dry. “No.” He tried to rearrange his expression, but his mother’s knowing look cut straight through him. He’d forgotten how little escaped her notice.
“Ah,” she said softly, pulling a chair from across the desk and taking a seat. “I see. It has been some time. But there’s no harm in seeing her again, is there? Now that your brother has gone to the Continent…”
Adam didn’t reply. He didn’t trust himself to. Instead, the study’s soft ticking clock filled the gap of silence.
You can’t even imagine…
He wished he didn’t have the urge to kill David every time he thought of how David had hurt Charlene—even if not physically, the wound was deep enough for her family to cut all ties with him. Adam knew his loyalty should be to his brother; they were twins after all. But wasn’t there an excuse if one’s brother was David? Yet Charlene… She hadn’t wanted his pity, his protection, nor his heart. And in the heat of the moment, he hadsaid something he would regret for the rest of his life. That was the last time they saw each other.
She probably hated him as much as she hated David.
His mother leaned forward, her golden earrings catching the sunlight. “You do not have to tell me what happened that night before your father died. But you will accept this invitation. And if I need to drag you there myself, I will.”
