by Fiona Miers
Thomas meant too much to her, and she was most certainly not going to give in to the Dowager Duchess’ demands. She did not care that her reputation would be tarnished. She refused to allow anyone – regardless of status or title – to bully and control her.
“There are no feelings in your heart for Thomas apart from greed. At this stage, I am willing to pay you whatever amount it is that you desire to leave my son alone. I do not want you in his life, ever again. You are not good enough for my son. He deserves someone better.”
“And by better you mean, more titled, more refined, more obedient to your wishes,” Rebecca said with a bitter edge to her tone.
“Your words, not mine, dear.”
“How dare you!” Rebecca said, placing her hands angrily on her hips. Her voice was loud and angry as it echoed through the bedchamber just as the door opened.
Rebecca turned and stared directly at Thomas, who returned her gaze with wide eyes and a perplexed expression on his face.
Chapter Nine.
Thomas was taken aback by the scene before him. So much so, that he took a step back. When he’d entered his mother’s bedchambers, he was well aware that they may be engaged in a heated conversation, but he didn’t imagine the two women would be staring angrily at one another.
His mother’s face was crimson and her eyes were angry and narrowed. Even Rebecca’s beautiful face was drawn, and the tension inside the room was palpable. Whatever his mother had chosen to say or do to Rebecca had clearly offended her.
The Dowager Duchess seemed ruffled at the sight of Thomas, as though she felt guilty about something, and she stepped back.
As much Thomas wished to address the tension in the room, he chose to ignore it and approached the bed. “You ought to be resting, Mother,” he said as he plumped the pillows on her bed, motioning to her to resume her previous resting spot.
His mother nodded quietly and climbed back into bed. Thomas neatly placed the blanket over her lower body and tucked it in at her sides. He noticed her eyes narrow when she saw Judith carrying a tray with the large teapot containing the chocolate drink, as well as three large cups. To add insult to injury, Judith had ensured that the drinks were served from the Dowager Duchess’ best server set.
Thomas had expected his mother to express her disapproval for a multitude of things, but she showed no sign of responding to the situation.
“Judith, please serve the beverages. My mother must be parched, as we all are, no doubt,” Thomas said.
A momentary hint of a grin formed on Judith’s lips, and vanished all the same as she poured the drink into the cups, handing them to the Dowager Duchess then Rebecca, and lastly to Thomas.
“This is my famous warm chocolate drink. Apparently, I am the only one who is able to make it according to my mother’s taste,” Thomas said, continuing as though nothing was wrong.
He was well aware that his mother would snap and admonish him eventually, but until then, he relished in seeing how much discomfort he caused her.
It may be cruel, but since his mother had clearly made Rebecca upset, perhaps it was not as cruel as it seemed.
“Taste it.”
Rebecca smiled tightly, brought the cup up to her mouth and slowly sipped the drink. Thomas waited in anticipation and raised his brows expectantly.
“That is lovely. What is in it?” she asked.
“Only the finest chocolate tablets and a few more ingredients I cannot mention,” he said with a sly grin. “It is my secret recipe, after all.”
“You truly made this?” she asked, and Thomas nodded.
“Does that surprise you?” he asked.
“Not in the least. I have learned that there is more to a person than their outward appearance,” Rebecca said, and Thomas was unable to ignore the subtle tone in her voice directed at his mother.
A knock on the door sounded and before the Dowager Duchess was able to respond, Thomas said, “You may enter.”
As the door opened, the disapproval on the Dowager Duchess’ face increased ten-fold, and her lips pursed into a thin line on her face.
A maidservant entered the bedchambers with a large tray of baked bread, fresh butter, and homemade jam. The sweet aroma filled the chamber and it even invoked a smile on Rebecca’s pale face.
“Thank you,” Thomas said to the maidservant, who nodded in return and quietly left again. “Would you care for some brioche, Rebecca? It is freshly baked and goes wonderfully with the jam.”
“Thank you, Thomas. It certainly smells lovely,” she said with a smile.
While he and Rebecca exchanged pleasantries and discussed the delicious food, he remained conscious of his mother’s movements and expressions. It still surprised him that she had not uttered a single word to either him or Rebecca since he’d entered the room, and he wondered how long she would be able to keep herself quiet.
“Are you enjoying your drink, Mother?” Thomas asked nonchalantly. “I hope you do not mind that I asked the maidservants to serve lunch in your chambers. I, for one, have not yet eaten and am quite famished. We would also not wish for our guest to go hungry, would we?”
“As a matter of fact, I do mind,” the Dowager Duchess said eventually.
Thomas stared at his mother and cocked his head. “You do?”
“You neither informed me beforehand nor asked for my permission to do so, which I feel is very disrespectful. I am, indeed, your mother, and this has been my home for many years,” his mother said.
“Thomas, forgive me for interjecting, but Her Grace and I were in the midst of a discussion before you came in,” Rebecca said.
“A discussion?”
“Thomas—”
“Your mother was negotiating with me, for how much money it would take for me to remove my claws from you and get out of your life altogether,” Rebecca said with a furrowed brow.
“Pardon me?” Thomas asked, blinking rapidly.
“That is not true at all,” his mother said petulantly.
Thomas rose his feet and his jaw dropped. “Why would you do such a thing, Mother?”
“She intentionally wished to trap you, Thomas,” the Dowager Duchess accused, flinging her arms about.
As she did so, she accidentally spilled the warm beverage over herself and a shriek came from her mouth.
“Oh, it is not even hot,” Thomas said and rolled his eyes.
Rebecca rose to her feet, retrieved a tea towel from the table and began to wipe the warm chocolate drink from the Dowager Duchess.
“Get your filthy hands off me,” his mother shrieked.
“Stop insulting Rebecca,” Thomas ground out.
The Dowager Duchess reached for her bell and began to ring it continuously and with an urgency that could only be described as theatrically exaggerated. She rang it so many times that Thomas’ ears began to hurt, and he stepped away.
“What in heavens is going on here?” Charles asked as he ran through the door of the bedchambers.
“I am covered in hot chocolate,” the Dowager Duchess said in a small voice, which was clearly forced.
“Our mother thinks she can pay off people to remove themselves from my life.”
Charles seemed overwhelmed by the activity in the bedchambers. He inhaled deeply and clapped his hands together, loudly. “That is enough!”
His voice echoed through the room, and an instant silence befell Rebecca, Thomas, and a chocolate-covered Dowager Duchess.
“Now, would someone kindly tell me what in the blazes is going on here?”
Charles’ nostrils flared as he stared at them and for a moment, Thomas felt remorseful towards his brother. Having their mother visit the estate had always added to Charles’ already high stress level, especially this time of the year.
Charles was a perfectionist and liked to control every possible element of his existence. Of course, the presence of his brothers, their wives, and their children made this very difficult. Now that their mother had joined them at the estate, Charles wa
s out of sorts, and this was clearly detectable on his face.
“Charles—”
“Thomas, not now,” was all Charles managed to say.
He was red in the face and huffing and puffing. He was obviously angry and upset, and all Thomas wished to do was apologise. Charles was not a pleasant person to deal with in his current state.
Charles ran his fingers through his hair and sighed as he gazed at his mother. “Thomas, would you and Rebecca kindly wait for me in the upstairs study?”
“Yes, of course,” Thomas said, eager to leave their mother’s bedchambers.
Thomas turned to Rebecca. “Let us give Charles some space.”
She nodded quietly, then bit her lip and turned to Charles. “My father is waiting for me downstairs...”
“I will speak to your father.” Charles said, his tone not brooking any argument.
Rebecca nodded once more and together they hastily left the bedchambers. Thomas led her down the long hallway and he noticed her attention was on the portraits hanging from the walls. A smile formed on his lips and he pointed to a painting of Weymouth Bay.
“Do you see that one? The one of Weymouth Bay?”
“Yes.”
“My father painted it. It was the first and last painting he ever painted.”
“He was very talented,” Rebecca said, then frowned. “Why only the one?”
“Because he was convinced it was his finest work, and he would not be able to paint a more perfect painting,” Thomas said. “And my mother thought painters were fools.”
Rebecca scoffed and shook her head. “It sounds a fairly accurate description for something for your mother would say.”
Thomas suppressed a grin and they continued down the hallway. As they approached the upstairs study, which Charles used for most of his business, Thomas opened the door and they stepped inside.
He was interested to hear what exactly his mother had told Rebecca, and he closed the door behind them, ignoring propriety. He nudged her to the chaise lounge, and she sat down.
“Rebecca,” he said, and she looked at him, her eyes sad. “Tell me what my mother said to you before I arrived back in her bedchambers.”
Rebecca shrugged her shoulders and cast her gaze downwards. “It does not matter what I say. Why would you believe my words over your own mother’s?”
Thomas’s gaze softened and he sat beside her, taking her hand in his. “It matters to me what you say. You matter to me.”
“I do?”
“Of course.”
Rebecca gazed at him for a long moment, then drew in a breath. “Your mother does not deem me worthy of you. She is under the impression that I planned everything at the beach. That I only pretended to nearly drown so that you would save me. That I planned for someone to see our kiss and have rumours spread about me. Rumours that would ruin my reputation, and since you are a kind-hearted man, you would feel guilty and ask me to marry you for the sake of restoring my reputation.”
“Restoring your reputation would not be the reason why I would ask you to marry me, Rebecca,” Thomas said sincerely.
Her cheeks flushed and she lowered her gaze. “Whatever the reason, Thomas, your mother would not approve. She wished to pay me any amount I asked for to leave you alone, to never set foot on the estate again. I was shocked initially that she would ask that of me. Does she despise me so much that she wished me out of your life? I did nothing to warrant such a disdainful and cruel response.”
“You are not the one who is at fault, Rebecca,” Thomas said, and placed his hand over hers. “My mother was born into a very noble family, and she continued her life as a very titled lady when she married my father. She was not raised to despise others who were not her peers, but it seems it came as second nature to her. She greatly disapproves of Abigail and Julia as well, because they were not born into noble families either.”
“Does she approve of them now?”
“Certainly not, but she does tolerate them. Perhaps she realised that there was not much she was able to do in regard to changing the situation. She has not accepted it, but her contempt is much less.”
“It sounds very unfair to me, if I must be honest.”
“I agree with you, Rebecca.”
Although he did not show it, Thomas was furious that his mother would attempt to go to such lengths to ensure that Rebecca was not a part of his life. It made him incredibly angry that his mother was under the impression that such behaviour was acceptable.
And although the Dowager Duchess would most certainly use the excuse that she wished to protect her sons from women whose intentions were not pure, Thomas couldn’t help but be angered by her meddling.
“I am sincerely sorry for my mother’s actions. While I would not like to think that she would go to such extremes to get rid of you, it does not surprise me. My mother has controlled all aspects of our lives since we were young, and it likely gives her a sense of importance now.”
Rebecca shook her head and bit her lip. “It still does not justify her actions towards me.”
“I agree,” Thomas said, wishing he could kiss her frown away. “And I am truly sorry if she offended you. I did not mean for it to happen, I assure you.”
Rebecca nodded slowly and she cocked her head at Thomas.
Her eyes were filled with sorrow and confusion and Thomas was filled with guilt. “What is it, Rebecca?”
“Your mother showed me an article in the newspaper this morning,” she said. “About us.”
Thomas grimaced. He had hoped she would not come to learn of the article, but thanks to his mother, she now had. A stupid wish, considering all of Weymouth would soon have read it. But he had desired to keep the pain of the disclosure from her.
It also would have been better if she had heard it from him and not from anyone else. Especially not his mother.
“Rebecca...”
“You were aware of it,” she said, her eyes widening in surprise.
“I was, indeed. But I only saw it earlier, when I was in the kitchen with the cook,” he said. “Have you read it?”
“Only the headline of the article. Your mother did not give me much chance to read beyond that.”
Thomas breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. “Perhaps it is better that you did not get the chance to read it.”
“I would like to,” she said.
Thomas glanced at her for a moment, shocked at the mere thought that the lovely young woman sitting in front of him would willingly wish to read the terrible details of the article, which was written by someone who did not possess an inkling of moral direction.
Of course, he was not in a position to refuse her as she deserved full disclosure, but he also wished to protect her. The last thing he wished to do was upset her more.
REBECCA STARED EXPECTANTLY at Thomas and raised her brows. She was not quite certain why she wished to read the entire piece, because she knew it would be terrible. The reporter for the Weymouth Bay Post was a cunning man who often resorted to pure sensationalism when writing articles. There was seldom truth to anything he wrote, but people did not care whether it was based on facts. They simply wished to be entertained by salacious tales of scandal and excitement.
For this quiet seaside town, rumours and scandals based on lies were the only entertainment available.
Even her father had been the subject of a minor scandal upon their move to Weymouth, but he quickly cleared up those rumours with an honest and very anger-filled letter to the editor of the newspaper. A public apology was published in the newspaper on the front page, revealing the allegations regarding the reason as to why Dr. Morton and his daughter moved to Weymouth were false.
Of course, this now made the residents, especially the females of the town, very interested in her father. Rebecca had found it amusing at the time, since her father was now the most eligible man in town. She had even granted him permission – not that he required it – that she would approve if he wished to remarry, even if it were only
for companionship and not for love.
But her father still desperately loved his late wife and their infant son, and no woman would ever enter his heart again. He’d told her that he simply lacked the capacity to love another.
Rebecca cocked her head and stared at Thomas, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Thomas,” she said and exhaled slowly. “Please allow me to read the full article.”
“Rebecca, I do not wish to grant your request.”
“And why not?” Knowledge was always best, no matter what pain it caused.
“The reporter is a merciless man, and I do not wish for you to read what he wrote. It is simply preposterous, in my opinion.”
“Does it include details of our kiss?” she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Indeed, it does,” Thomas answered. “Amongst other things.”
“Such as?”
“I would rather not say. As I mentioned before, it was written in a crude and revealing nature, riddled with lies and untruths.”
“Sensationalism at its best, no doubt.”
“Indeed,” Thomas said and lowered his gaze.
“Thomas,” she said, her voice tender as she attempted to not reveal how upset she was.
Perhaps upset was not entirely correct, as she did not feel angered by what had happened any longer. She was certainly disappointed in the events and having to learn about the details of the article only caused her to lose faith in humanity.
She was also well aware that Thomas only wished to protect her from the judgment of the world, but he couldn’t shield her from everything that would cross her path.
The fact that he wished to do that and attempted to meant the world to her, but she had to know what the article stated. Perhaps not for her own sanity, but for her peace of mind as well.
Thomas rose to his feet and began to pace around the study, his jaw clenched and his eyes troubled.
“Thomas,” she repeated his name.
“I cannot allow you to read that article, Rebecca. I simply cannot. What was written of you...of us...It is no wonder my mother thinks those awful things of you.”