Page 44 of Tempted By the English Marquis
“And no, the Marchioness of Brooke had not yet had her baby, but I expect by the time we get home Millie will have a babe resting in her arms,” he added.
“What about the Kembals?” asked Augusta.
Gideon’s gaze settled on the duchess. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She wore a bland, unreadable expression on her face. Her social mask was firmly in place.
Yes, what about your own family, Mama? Or don’t you give a damn?
He couldn’t tell whether his mother was being arrogantly disinterested or if she was too ashamed to speak. His hopes lay with it being the latter, but good sense warned him not to let his expectations get the better of him.
“Our family and siblings are as one would expect them to be in the current situation,” he replied. Let the duchess add whatever she felt needed to be said to his vague remark.
“Well, I have plans for this morning. I can’t have my day wasted in small talk.” After brushing the crumbs from the corner of her mouth, Lady Anne tossed her cloth napkin onto the table and rose.
Gideon got to his feet and bowed to her. “You won’t stay and spend time with your family? I haven’t seen you in over eight months.”
“As I said, I have things to do.” She turned to Augusta. “Don’t forget we are leaving for Tivoli first thing tomorrow. Signore Arosio says he is looking forward to having us stay and showing us around the town and Villa d’Este. You might want to check with your maid and make sure that she has your gowns repaired in time. I have no idea what you get up to that has them in such a state. Nor do I think I wish to know.”
And with that, the duchess left the room. The door closed loudly behind her, rattling on its hinges, but neither Gideon nor Augusta reacted to the slam. They had been raised on a steady diet of parental tantrums. There wasn’t a door in Mowbray House or Mowbray Park which hadn’t been forcibly closed by their mother.
“She is in fine fettle this morning,” noted Gideon.
Augusta set her cup on the table. The silence in the room was palpable. Gideon’s mind began to whirl with the hundred questions he sensed were on his sister’s lips.
“Gideon, what did you mean about our family and the current situation? What is going on? Why are you here? And don’t try and tell me that it is because you were worried that we had run out of money. Before you got here this morning, Mama tried to tell me that it was the reason for your visit. I might be innocent in many things, but I am not a fool. I know the de Lucas would give her anything she needed.”
Damn. I was hoping that Mama had told her the truth.
It was now clear to him that Augusta was being deliberately kept in the dark by their mother. That his sister had little idea of the disaster which was unfolding. He just couldn’t understand why.
“What has Mama given you as being the reason why the two of you are still in Rome? Especially when her last words as she walked out the front door of Mowbray House were that she would see us all well before Christmas,” asked Gideon.
Augusta shifted in her chair. She stabbed at a piece of sliced apple with her knife, but instead of raising it to her mouth and eating it, she continued to chop, cutting it into tiny pieces. She was still working to demolish the food when Gideon placed his hand over hers. His sister’s dogged carving immediately ceased.
“She said that she and Papa had had a fight. When she had calmed down enough, we would go home. That was in January. Every time I have tried to raise the subject with her since then, she either bites my head off, or as she has just done, marches out of the room in a great angry huff.”
Gideon took the knife from Augusta’s hands and laid it flat on the table. He rose from his chair and came around to her side. As he bent his knee, it occurred to him that there was never going to be a good time nor an easy way to tell her the truth. The rest of the Kembal children knew what was happening; it wasn’t fair that G didn’t.
Just get it done, then you can start to deal with what comes next.
Augusta’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. He hated being the one to do this, fearing that she would somehow hold him to blame.
Gideon cleared his throat. “Mama wrote to Papa just before Christmas. She has left him.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” said his sister, wiping at a tear which had escaped.
She was right; the duchess was forever making dramatic exits. Usually, she just went and holed up in another part of the house, sulked for a day or two, and then came back to fight it out with her husband. Or if the family was in residence at their country estate of Mowbray Park, Lady Anne would take herself off back to London.
But this was the first time she had left the country. The first time she had put her anger into written words. And most definitely the first time she had mentioned a formal separation.
“I’m sorry, G, but this time she is serious. Mama is separating from our father. She has said she won’t be coming back to England. The rest of the family know. And things are not good in London, especially with Papa. Word has gotten out and spiteful rumors had been circulating for several weeks before I left. That is why I am here. To try and talk sense to Mama.”
And if not, then at least he could bring G home with him. He left that bit unsaid. His sister had enough to deal with for the moment. She didn’t need to feel thrown into the middle of a tug-of-war.
That battle was still coming.
As Augusta slowly shook her head, Gideon was taken back to the night he’d given the same news to his other brothers and sisters. They had also been in a state of denial. Clinging to the comfort of the usual pattern of their parents’ disputes. He wished things were the same this time.
“But why hasn’t she told me?” Augusta toyed with the cream ribbons on the front of her lilac gown, twisting them around her little finger.
