Yet, here he was. Laughing and dancing, as if he wasn’t burdened by the sins of his past. That was the part that bothered Matilda the most. The fact that he looked so happy, so at ease, while the victim of his actions was still traumatized by it. Matilda wanted to go see Elizabeth, but she would only say the same thing she always said—that she was fine—that she only wanted to be alone.
Matilda’s eyes flicked up to her mother. She had reacted nervously last night as well. If they hadn’t all been on edge, Matilda would have given it her full attention. Any reaction out of Louisa was a good one. It simply meant that finally, she was coming back to them. Maybe then they would be able to be a real family again. Maybe then they wouldn’t be so affected by the mere presence of a single gentleman.
“Mother,” she called.
Unsurprisingly, her mother said nothing. She didn’t so much as blink.
“Mother,” Matilda said again, with a little more strength in her voice. She couldn’t deal with it. This wasn’t the time for her mother to be acting like this. This was the time for her to snap out of whatever daze she’d been in all this time and come back to them.
“Mother!”
There was still no reply from her. Angry now, Matilda faced her fully. “The Duke is back.”
Matilda nearly missed it, but her mother’s left cheek ticked. She considered that a minute victory. “The Duke is back,” she repeated. “He’s back and he’s happy. He doesn’t care about what he did. The Duke of Dunstead is back.”
Matilda watched as her mother curled her hands into a fist in her lap. She hated that she was doing this but at the same time, she was so angry with herself and her mother and the world, that she just didn’t care. “The Duke of Dunstead is in London, Mother. And every ball we attend next we will see him. You know the Duke. He’s a very hard gentleman to miss.”
Slowly, her mother’s clenched hands loosened.
“And what about Elizabeth, Mother? What are we going to do about her? What are you going to do about her? Why haven’t you done anything to help her? To at least tell her that you’re sorry? At the very least, mother!”
“Stop it!”
Matilda blinked in shock. Her mother was… crying. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she was clutching her skirt tightly in her hands. Louisa sniffled, not tearing her eyes away from the window but Matilda could tell she wasn’t seeing anything.
“Mother…”
“Stop it,” she said softer this time. “I know. You don’t have to tell me. I know.”
Then she broke down. Matilda’s heart broke at the sight, regret consuming her. Angry or not, she shouldn’t have pushed her mother so. Matilda had imagined the moment her mother snapped out of whatever daze she’d been in all these years many times, but she’d never once thought that it would be because she was crying. And she certainly didn’t think it would be because Matilda drove her to it.
“Mother…” Without a second thought, Matilda crossed over to her, taking a seat by her side. She wrapped her arms around her mother’s shoulders, pulling her into her arms. “I’m terribly sorry.”
Her mother did nothing but cry. They were silent sobs, large tears soaking into Matilda’s clothes. She didn’t care. She held her mother, because even though this time she had been the cause, she once again had to be the one to hold this family together.
Chapter 27
Timothy wasn’t sure what to do. What he was sure about was that there was something wrong with Matilda. Her entire demeanor had changed that night and though he had spent all his time trying to figure out what it was about, he found himself coming against a wall time-and-time again. There was so much he didn’t know about her, he realized. So much that had been left unsaid between them and now she was suffering and he didn’t know what to do about it.
He went to the gazebo and waited. He spent all night in the cold, tempted to head back to the comfort of his own warm home and think about what he could do to help but also not wanting to out of fear that she might come out and he would miss her. The Viscount had canceled their meeting, which meant he had no reason to go to the manor without raising suspicion and there wouldn’t be another ball for now. Timothy wasn’t even sure she would attend that one after what happened last time.
It plagued him. It bothered him that it wasn’t just her that had been so disturbed but the entire family. Something large must have happened, something that went straight over his head. He wouldn’t stop until he figured out what it was.
He should just go to the manor. He didn’t need to have a reason to, did he? By this time, he could confidently say that he was a close friend to the family. They were all fond of him. That could be reason enough and perhaps only Matilda would read into his intentions. He could figure out how he was going to get the information he wanted once he was there.
Determined that that was the new plan, Timothy called for his carriage. Within ten minutes he was ready to leave but was stopped short by his butler at the front door.
“You have a visitor, Your Grace.”
“Who is it?” Timothy asked, trying not to come off as impatient. If it was Jonathan then he would just have to wait until he got back.
“The Duke of Dunstead, Your Grace.”
Timothy resisted the urge to groan aloud. The Duke was the last person he wanted to see right now. He would undoubtedly sucker him into a long, round-about tale and wouldn’t ever allow him to leave. But he knew he couldn’t turn him away. “Send him to the parlor.”
With a sigh, Timothy turned and made his way to the parlor. He wasn’t surprised to hear the Duke long before he came in through the door.
“Wonderful afternoon, isn’t it, Sir?” the Duke said the moment he was inside. He sank into a chair opposite Timothy and propped one leg perpendicular to the other.
“It most certainly is,” Timothy replied. His attempt at sounding cordial was barely passable. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Don’t worry, young Sir,” the Duke said. “I have a reason for my visit today. I come bearing proposals.”
“For?”
“Our businesses, of course. As you know, I’ve been in India many times and I think I’ve picked up a few things I would like to bring to my own company. What do you say? Do you want to hear them?”
“I would love to, Sir, but—”
“Lovely.” With a thunderous clap, the Duke got to his feet. “Shall we head to the study then? I haven’t seen the inside of this manor in quite some time, actually. Not since your father was still alive and I was just a young Duke. I do believe a tour should first be in order?”
Timothy rose. Now he remembered why the Duke was so successful in the first place. He had a way of getting people around him to do things, whether through his charm or his cajoling words. Timothy was no different. “Why don’t we just head straight to the study?”
“If that’s what you think is best,” the Duke said with a surrendering raise of his hands. “Lead the way.”
He wouldn’t get away for now. Forced to be a good host, Timothy had to at least hear the Duke out and he had a feeling he would riddle his ‘proposals’ with tales of his adventures across the seas. Timothy had never met a man quite like the Duke. Though he had no intention of actually paying the Duke’s ideas any mind, within a few minutes he was drawn into an enticing conversation. By the time the meeting was in full swing, he had to admit to himself that the Duke was quite the businessman. For someone who stood out quite as much as him, it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that he had out-of-the-box ideas of how they could work together—with quite a few ways of maneuvering it into the conversation.
Before he knew it, hours had passed while they sat there talking. They shared a few glasses of brandy between themselves but they remained level headed throughout the entire meeting, one that was proving to be more and more lucrative the longer they spoke.
“And that,” the Duke slammed his hand on the mantle above the fireplace, causing the knickknacks to shake, “
is how you do it.”
Timothy calmly put all the knickknacks back into their rightful position, watching the Duke as he wandered off. He couldn’t help the amusement that pricked him at the Duke’s exuberance. For a gentleman who showed up unexpectedly, he was shaping up to be quite the visitor.
“I agree,” Timothy said. “It has certainly been one of my more productive meetings. You have great ideas, Sir.”
“And if we put our heads together, we’ll be dominating the market in no time.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Timothy glanced at the mantle clock. It was much too late to pay the Roburg Manor a visit now but Timothy wanted to be free of this talk of business. “If you’ll excuse me, Sir, but I have other matters to attend to. Allow me to show you out.”
“I see,” the Duke said. “Your father would have offered me a drink, you know.”
“Were those two glasses of brandy not enough for you?” Timothy asked, cocking his head to the side.
He chuckled. “Of course. But brandy served in a gentleman’s club would be much better. You go to the same one you’ve always gone to, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Well, then what are we waiting for?” The Duke perched his glass on the bookshelf he was now standing next to. “Let’s go.”
Timothy hesitated, glancing at the clock once again.
What’s the harm in going?
Matilda’s face popped into his head, filled with discomfort and a shadow of anger. At the time, Timothy was almost certain it was aimed at the Duke. Maybe he could see for himself if that was true?
The Duke led the way. He chatted for the most part while they were in the carriage on their way to the club. Within a matter of minutes after arriving, they were both seated together with their liquor in hand. Timothy didn’t plan to get remotely tipsy tonight so he set his glass down watching the Duke as he downed nearly all of it in one gulp. His face contorted through the burn of it, then his lips spread into a smile.
“That’s the best thing about drinking, you know,” he said, looking at what was left in his glass. “The way it attacks you on the way down. It always feels terrible when you first drink it, then it warms you up like a sunny afternoon. Then, bam!” Timothy was happy he opted to slam his hand down on the armchair, which stifled most of the sound. “It feels terrible again and you’re waking up with a headache and the urge to throw up your insides.”
“You must find yourself drunk quite often, Sir.”
“I do,” the Duke said without hesitation. “Not something I should be proud of but things are better when you’re drunk. People are easier to talk to. Things are easier to do. Having liquor in your system should be the secret to life.”
“Surely you don’t think that’s a good idea?”
“Of course I don’t,” he said with a laugh. “But when I’m drunk I can believe anything and do anything. But I know how it would look to others so I tamper the urge. Why I was half tempted to attend the last ball drunk!”
Timothy could hardly believe what he was hearing. The Duke was openly admitting to being a drunkard. “That wouldn’t have gone over well.”
The Duke shook his head solemnly before throwing back another glass. “No, it wouldn’t. But at least it would have made seeing that lady a little easier.”
“What lady?”
“I’m sure you know her.” Without asking, the Duke reached over and picked up Timothy’s glass. “I saw you talking with her and her father. I assumed you two would be dancing.”
Does he mean Matilda?
“Are you talking about the Viscount of Roburg’s daughter?”
“The one and the same. God, she looks the same as I last saw her.” The Duke left it at that, downing the rest of Timothy’s drink.
Intrigued, Timothy thought back to that night. Was he right? Was the Duke the reason they had all become so withdrawn?
Is the Duke the reason for Matilda’s face that night?
“Do you want another drink?” Timothy asked him.
The Duke gave him a toothy grin. “I thought you would never ask.”
Timothy ensured he had a glass that was at least half full of whiskey before he asked his next question. “When was the last time you saw her?”’
“Saw who?”
“The Viscount’s daughter. Miss Jones.”
“Oh. What was it? About two or three years ago? Who knows? Time is always blurred in my head. What I do remember was the way she looked at me the last time we saw each other. Those were eyes I will never forget.”
“How did she look at you?”
“Like …” The Duke trailed off, then snapped his finger. He was quite drunk. “Oh never mind that. The point is, there is always more to the story.”
Timothy frowned. “What story?”
“The story of the Viscount’s daughter, of course. Isn’t she who we’re talking about?”
“So do you know what the true story is?” When the Duke didn’t respond straight away, Timothy tried another route. “I’m sure you do. You’re always filled with tales of the things you’ve done and such. It doesn’t come as a surprise to me that you know more about that family than everyone else does.”
The Duke threw his head back and barked a laugh. He was already becoming quite drunk. “I know, all right. And you wouldn’t believe what I have to say either.”
“Coming from you, I bet it’s nothing but the truth.”
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Sir.” He made a come-hither motion. Timothy leaned closer. The Duke brought himself much closer to Timothy than he needed to and grabbed him by the ear, hitting Timothy smack in the face with the scent of liquor on his breath. “I heard she bore a child.”
Timothy deflated. “Everyone knows that, Sir. You haven’t been in London for a while so I suppose you wouldn’t have known that that is common knowledge.”
“Oh, really? Then did you know that I am the father of the child?”
… What did he just say?
Timothy pulled away from him, eyes widening. “What?”
The Duke laughed. “I got your attention with that one, didn’t I?”
“Are you speaking the truth? Are you truly the father of the child?”
“I wouldn’t lie about that now, would I?” Even so, he kept laughing that Timothy wasn’t sure whether or not he should take him seriously.
That wasn’t what he had been expecting him to say. Truthfully, Timothy wasn’t very sure what he really expected him to say but to know that the Duke was the father to Matilda’s child somehow made sense to him. It would explain why she had felt such discomfort with the Duke being around. It even explained why the rest of the family had looked so uncomfortable. Maybe Matilda had fallen for the Duke’s charm and good looks, only to come out on the other end alone and with child. That was knowledge any family would be ashamed to bear.
He had to go see her. If only to talk to her about this new revelation, Timothy had to see her. He got to his feet and waited for the Duke’s delayed eyes to rise to meet his. “I’m sorry, Sir, but I have to go. Something urgent has come up.”
“Something urgent?” The Duke blinked, frowning. “But we’re just getting started.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to drink on your own for now.”
Timothy left it at that, rushing out to the club to the one place he hoped he will be able to see her.
Chapter 28
Matilda couldn’t sleep. Restless dreams plagued her mind and it took tossing and turning in bed for about an hour for her to finally give up on it. She got out of bed, deciding that perhaps a walk in the cold night air will help her relax.
In truth, nothing could relax her. The man who had been the object of all their anger and resentment was back in London and her sister was suffering as a result of it. Only earlier today, Matilda had walked into Jackson’s room to find Elizabeth hugging him tightly, crying softly into his hair. Jackson, not sure what was going on, only hugged her back. Matilda couldn’t bring herself to b
reak such a moment, though she knew Elizabeth was hurting inside so she backed away and left them be.
After that, she couldn’t bring herself to seek her out. She knew she had to, that she had to be the rock by which everyone leaned on. She had to hold this family together whenever it was on the verge of falling apart, but Matilda had been so tired. So drained from the past few days. For once, she wanted to be the one who was held. She wanted to be the one who was being consoled.
The Scandalous Secret 0f The Tempting Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 20