Page 52 of A Duke's Overlooked Spinster
“Nobody saw except you.” Robert looked at her firmly. “And if the whole world had seen, then I think the understanding that I am courting Miss Brooke would make more sense.”
“Courting! Miss Brooke!” his mother shouted. “Are you entirely out of your wits? Do you understand what you just said?” she demanded. “She is nobody!”
“Nobody is nobody,” Robert said tightly.
“Oh! What nonsense,” his mother scoffed. Robert felt rage boil inside him: huge, hot and impossible to suppress.
“Elizabeth said that,” he said coldly. “And she was the wisest person I ever met. If that is nonsense in your world, Mama, then your whole world is nonsense, and I want no part in it.” He turned his back on her and walked to the door.
“Son! Son!” his mother shouted as he opened the door. “Don’t you dare walk out of that door.”
Robert continued walking and his mother ran up and grabbed his arm. He turned around.
“Son!” she said angrily. “Don’t do this. Don’t you dare do this. Your father would...”
Robert glared at her. His rage must have shown in his eyes because she took a step back.
“Do not,” he began, quietly and angrily, “do not ever presume to threaten me with my father. I loved him. He was someone I cherished and looked up to and I know, without a doubt, that he would have approved of what I am doing. He would not have seen things as you do. Don’t you dare put words in the mouth of a dead man to blackmail me. I will not accept that.”
He turned around and walked down the hallway.
When he reached the end of the corridor he turned around. His mother was still standing in the doorway of the small room, and he felt a twist of pity for her. She looked so small, so suddenly old. Without her manipulative ways, she was someone he loved and cherished too, and he felt guilty for having been unkind. But he could not allow her to manipulate him out of the most important decision that he had ever made. He was certain. He was more certain than he had ever been before. He was goingto find Miss Brooke and he was going to ask her to marry him. He had never been so sure of anything in his life. He turned and walked down the hallway, hurrying to the garden. He had to find her.
Chapter 24
Sarah gazed out of the window through the chink in her bedroom curtains, the cloud-gray daylight seeping in. She covered her face with her hands.
“I can’t do it,” she whispered to the empty room.
She had barely slept all night, and she had woken with no more resolve than she had felt when she got into bed.
She knew, with all her heart, that the duchess was right. She would only harm Henry with her presence at the manor. She was no duchess—if the duke ever entertained the idea of including her in his life, it would only lead to the destruction of everything they both wished for Henry to have.
But at the same time, how could she turn away? The little boy liked her.
She had taken care of him for the past two days, keeping his fever at bay with cold towels and herbal teas sent up from the kitchen. She had sat at his bedside until he slept and read him stories when he awoke. She had brought Buttons to play with him and the little dog refused to leave, sleeping on his bed even though Mrs. Wellman evidently did not approve. Henry relaxed when she was there, sometimes laughing as she read him stories, trusting her to give him water or tea and to help him out of bed when he needed to relieve himself. She had been there when he was at his most vulnerable and he had trusted and welcomed her.
Sarah let her hands fall to her lap and her eyes moved to the ceiling as she stared upwards, wishing for guidance. She could either stay at the manor and tell the duke outright what his mother had said and make him see that she would ruin Henry’s world—or she could simply run away.
“Caroline will be upset,” she said aloud to the empty room. Caroline had said many times that Sarah belonged with the guests, that she should not feel pushed out simply because the duchess wished her to. At the same time, she could not believe Caroline’s kind words over the cruel ones of the duchess. The duchess was telling the truth, brutal though it was. Caroline was her cousin and was blinded by her own fondness.
Sarah stood up from the bed. Her stomach was knotting queasily, but deep down, she knew exactly what to do.
“Shh, little fellow.”
Buttons was stirring—he always jumped to his feet the moment she moved, wanting to go outside to play. She bent down to ruffle his fur and then strode out into the hallway, Buttons following her.
She led him outside into the garden for a run and to relieve himself, walking down the long, brick-paved path while he ran around the front lawn. She did not want to linger near the house. It was early, but the duchess might be out on her morning stroll, and she could not bear to see her. She had decided what she would do, and she did not need to see the duchess again and have more of her venom poured into her wounds.
She strode down the path to the place where she had sat overlooking the estate. Her heart twisted painfully. She remembered Henry joining her on the bench, his little face lit with excitement when she drew the horse for him. She recalled how delighted he was to see Buttons, and how much she had enjoyed watching the two play. She loved Henry.
“I love the duke,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.
She had tried to ignore the fact that she had fallen in love, but it was impossible to ignore. She knew without question that it was true.
She bit her lip, fighting the awareness. She could not allow herself to follow that path, to risk that the duke might return herfeelings. To do so would bring ruin to the being who they both loved—little Henry.
“God, help me,” she whispered.
