Page 62 of Tempted By the English Marquis
Gideon suspected the de Lucas would not view it well. They may even ask the duchess to leave.
“I won’t say anything to them, but you must know that Augusta is now aware of what you have done. I cannot be held accountable for what she says to those whom she may confide in.”
The clock was ticking, and it was only a matter of time before their hosts knew that the Duchess of Mowbray was a woman without a home.
He let out a slow breath. His anger with his mother was his, and no one else’s. Whatever lay ahead in the future, he owed it to her to deal with their relationship away from the public eye. Just because she had made a decision that he couldn’t understand nor agree with didn’t stop her from being his mother. And despite everything, he still loved her.
“I have already spoken to Augusta. She knows how important it is for her to keep this a private matter. But you must know that when the time comes for us to depart for England, your hosts will come asking questions.” Gideon gave the duchess a curt nod. He would much rather it was a warm hug, and he secretly hoped that in time they might find themselves once more at a point where they could openly show their affection for one another.
As he turned to open the door, Lady Anne reached out and grabbed a hold of his jacket sleeve. “You look like you have lost a good deal of weight. I hope you are not sick.”
“I am perfectly well.”
“No matter what has happened, I am still your mother. If there is something I should be worried about, please, Gideon, you have to tell me.”
He glanced down at where she held his arm, and Gideon was suddenly in two minds as to how he should respond. Sharp, hurtful remarks about her not giving a damn about anyone else sat readily on his tongue.
Declaring war will not serve us any good. It will only push her farther away.
“The sea voyage took its toll, nothing more. Now if you would please excuse me, I need to try and get some sleep.” He had delivered his father’s letter and the duchess now knew where she stood in regard to Augusta. There was other legal correspondence in his luggage, but whether Lady Anne ever got to see it would depend on how things went over the next few days.
It was only after his mother had left that Gideon remembered the love letters. The ones the duke had written to his wife. He picked up the small chest and stared at it for a moment, then dropped it back into his trunk.
I could take these to her. But somehow the time doesn’t feel right.
He would let the duchess ponder the letter which had given Gideon custody of his sister. Let his father’s legal and very formal notice sink in. The potency of the love letters might well be diminished if Lady Anne received them while fuming over her husband.
If anything stood a chance of changing Anne’s mind and getting her on board the ship back to England, it was those deeply personal letters from Clifford.
ChapterThirty-Three
Flynn’s note was delivered to Gideon’s room early that evening. It contained the address of an English church, All Saints’, situated close by Trajan’s Column, along with the request to visit him at his earliest convenience.
Gideon penned a quick reply, offering to meet with his friend the following morning. Lack of sleep and more than a fair share of emotional turmoil had finally caught up with him. He was utterly exhausted.
He was also in bad need of a hot bath, which the palace servants were more than happy to accommodate. After a long, luxurious soak, he spent a solid half hour going through his Italian phrasebook, piecing together a note for his footman.
When the man returned, a clean and freshly dressed Gideon proudly handed a letter to him. The servant nodded, then left the room. He came back a short while later with a tray of cold meats, fresh tomatoes, and thin white slices of what appeared to be some form of cheese. The footman held out his hand, and Gideon passed him the phrasebook and his pencil. When the book was handed back, the word mozzarella had been underlined.
“Mozzarella,” Gideon said.
He got a smile for his troubles, and a correction. “Mozz-a-rell-a”
There was a definitive emphasis on the double Z and the double L. He tried again and got a more favorable response. The footmen then motioned to the platter, encouraging Gideon to try the cheese.
He picked up a piece, added a slice of tomato, and allowed the servant to top it off with a basil leaf. There were other words added but he didn’t catch them; he was more than content to stuff the food into his mouth and simply chew.
Oh, that is good. So fresh and delicious.
A smiling Gideon nodded his approval. Once the footman left, he set to work on the platter, polishing it off in quick time, after which he lay on his bed and without any real effort fell into a deep sleep.
It was late when he stirred from his slumber. Sitting up on the end of the bed, he gave a contented sigh. “That was the best nap I’ve had in years.”
Retrieving his pocket watch from his waistcoat, he checked the time. It was just after eleven. No one had come to wake him for supper; he had been left to sleep. That was considerate of his footman-come-valet, but not so thoughtful on the part of his family. Neither his mother nor Augusta had checked on him.
Augusta he could understand. He couldn’t recall his sister ever having fainted before. She was one of those women who frowned at other ladies when they made a show of pretending to swoon. London society was unfortunately full of dizzy-headed women.
His mother’s lack of contact was more concerning. She was avoiding him again. And with her expected departure to Tivoli in the morning, it would be some days before he saw her once more.
