Page 82 of Tempted By the English Marquis
“Then, over the past year, the fighting stopped. Every time I tried to start an argument, Clifford would either agree with me or walk away.”
There were times during his younger years when Gideon would have given his right hand to be living in a peaceful household. To not have to listen to his parents fighting. It was hard to reconcile that longing with the obvious pain in his mother’s words.
“I thought perhaps he had taken a mistress. I even had him followed.”
That was definitely something Gideon couldn’t reconcile in his head. His father didn’t attempt to hide his lust for his wife. Nor had the duchess been coy with the way she flirted with her husband. “He didn’t have anyone else, did he?”
“No. And at times, I wished he had. At least I would’ve had someone to compete against. A rival I could challenge and defeat. But the truth is, Clifford simply gave up on us. I don’t know if he still loves me, but even if he does, I can’t live a life without the fire and hunger we once shared.”
Gideon closed his eyes and let out a tired sigh. He wasn’t made the same way as his mother. What he felt for Serafina was a tender love, one which he hoped in time would allow them to explore the deeper emotions that bubbled just below the surface.
He had never craved the madness of his parents’ marriage. One that was a constant storm of clashing and smashing together. If they weren’t fighting, they were going at each other in a lustful fury. “Father does love you. He is utterly destroyed by your leaving. If you would just come home with me, you could see for yourself.”
The duchess slurped down the rest of her tea. “I can’t. Not now. The whole of thetonmust know what has happened. This is beyond humiliating. Your father and I were the great love story of our generation. I’ve lost count of the women who have told me that they wished they had what I had with my husband.”
Pride would keep her from returning home. All the years of lonely pain which lay before her would occur because his mother was not able to face London society.
Gideon picked up his cup of tea and took a sip. It was barely lukewarm. He set it on the table and glanced at the box of letters which now sat on the sofa next to Lady Anne.
There wasn’t much he could say to convince her otherwise, and he couldn’t drag her away from here and force her onto a boat.
“You are a strong woman, Mama; you always have been. I won’t try to badger you with a thousand reasons why you should get on board that ship with us, because there is really only one that truly matters. And that is, because you choose to come home.”
He rose from his chair. “Since we are being honest with one another, I think it only fair that I tell you I intend to marry Serafina.”
The duchess’s head whipped up; Gideon caught the look of shock on her face. “But she is going to marry Signore Magri. Her father is set firmly on the match.”
“I know. And we are well aware as to how difficult the next few days will be for the both of us, as well as possibly you and Augusta. I am telling you this now not just because you have a right to know.”
He pointed to the box of letters. “Papa took great care in writing every one of those letters, and he was barely holding himself together when he entrusted them to me. Please do me this favor and read them today. If they do help to change your mind, let me know. I ask because if things do not go well with Serafina’s father, then there is a very good chance that we may need to leave Rome in a hurry.”
Gideon left his mother to ponder the words of her husband and her son.
ChapterForty-Four
For the second time in as many days Donna Francesca paid a call to Serafina’s bedroom. Unlike her visit of the previous night, the contessa offered no motherly words of comfort, nor did she place tender kisses on her daughter’s brow. The instant she stepped through the door, she took one look at Serafina’s maid and dismissed her.
“Go and sit in the alcove outside my private drawing room. I shall speak to you when I am finished here.”
Anna quickly departed, and the contessa locked the door.
“What happened today?” she demanded.
Serafina shook her head. “Nothing. I mean, I spent some of the day with Gideon in the city, but I expect you already knew that. I slipped back into the palace grounds through the gardens and have been here ever since.”
A horrid dread descended upon her. She had been so certain no one had seen her, that her return had been in secret.
The contessa crossed the floor and grabbed a hold of Serafina’s arm, hauling her out of her chair. As Serafina struggled to her feet, her mother fixed her with a hard stare. “Something must have happened. Tell me. Your future may well depend upon it.”
Recalling the moment, she had spied Signore Magri’s friend at the restaurant, Serafina winced. “We ate at Ristorante La Campana and as we were about to leave, I saw one of the guests from last night’s supper.”
Her mother swore, and Serafina’s blood cooled in her veins. She had never heard the contessa use that sort of language before now.
“Giovanni Magri was here just a short time ago. After he left, your father sent for me. The betrothal ceremony is to be moved from next week to this Friday. Less than two days stands between you and being, for all intents and purposes, a wife.”
Gideon had been right when he’d said they had to move quickly. The light of what little hope they may have had flickered then went out.
The contessa loosened her grip, and Serafina fell into her mother’s arms. “I cannot face a life with Signore Magri. He already has a family. I will be nothing. Why can’t Gideon and I be allowed to marry?”
