by Lee, Jade
It allowed him to breathe and proceed with the task without wanting to hit someone. A miracle, indeed. Still, it was an exhausting morning after a long night. If he hadn’t promised to dine with her, he would have made his excuses and sought his bed. But he had promised, and so he nodded wearily when his mother tapped her watch and declared it time to return home. Though, he did offer her an out.
“I woke you early, Mother. Perhaps you would prefer to rest today, and we can dine tomorrow.”
The stare she gave him was so cold, she nearly froze his toes. “You promised.”
“And I am not going back on that promise. I was simply offering—”
“No. Today.”
Very well, then. He bit his lip and resolved to endure more time with his irrational parent. Or maybe not so irrational, because the reason for her demand became clear the moment he stepped into his parents’ house.
“Diana?” he gasped. “Whatever are you doing here?”
She looked up from where she was drinking tea in the parlor. She was dressed in mourning, the unrelieved black doing little favor to her already pale complexion, and yet he found her stunningly beautiful. She straightened immediately, her movements graceful even as she stepped out into the hallway to curtsey to his mother.
“Lady Wolvesmead, thank you for the invitation.”
“Lady Dunnamore,” his mother returned. “I apologize that I was not at my best the last time we met.” A vast understatement given that his mother had entered Diana’s home screaming upon seeing Lucas alive.
“Totally understandable,” Diana returned. Then she looked at Lucas. “You seem surprised. I thought you wanted me here for some reason.”
He had wanted her safely away from his poisonous mother, but apparently, something had gone amiss.
“I sent the invitation,” his mother stated flatly. Then she pursed her lips. “Prattling about in the doorway is uncivilized. The meal should be served forthwith.” She looked at her butler. “Show them into the parlor while I go repair my attire.” Then she turned and climbed the stairs without even glancing back at them.
Lucas watched her go, then gave Diana an exasperated look. “It’s been a trying morning,” he said by way of explanation.
“That sounds interesting. Do give me all the details.”
He didn’t answer. They were being escorted into the parlor, which was a bare three steps away. They could have walked themselves there, but his mother—and her butlers—were always ones for ceremony. “Where is your guard? He was supposed to watch you.”
“He came with me, as well as two others. Last I saw they went belowstairs to oversee the preparation of the meal.”
Given that Lord Dunnamore had been poisoned, the precautions were necessary. As was the fact that he now saw his man gesture to him through the window before slipping out of sight. The guard was probably watching the perimeter.
“Why does your mother want me here?”
Lucas shrugged. “I cannot understand the woman.”
Diana raised her brows. “Is that a new shirt? And your hair has been cut. Sweet heaven, those are new shoes. Has your mother replaced my disreputable Mr. Lucifer with a respectable Lord Chellam? I am shocked.”
He shot her a glare even though he knew she was teasing. More than that, he saw a flash of interest in her eyes. “Do you prefer me this way? Clipped and polished like a dandy?”
She laughed. “You are a far cry from a dandy, but I must admit the new you has appeal. Dark and dangerous certainly has its place, but sometimes a lady wants to sit across from a gentleman.”
He studied her a moment, gauging the truth of her statement. In the end, he had to acknowledge her point with a grunt. “If you want a gentleman, then I endeavor to please.”
Her expression sobered. “I am pleased whatever you choose to wear.”
Then there was no more time for conversation, as his mother stepped into the parlor. “If you would follow me? I believe the food should be acceptable despite the way your men tried to discomfit my cook.”
Lucas winced. “A necessary precaution, I assure you.”
“No doubt.” Her tone indicated the exact opposite.
Would this hell never end? He began to long for an attack just so he could do something that was not spending time with his mother. But at least Diana was here now, and she eased the tension inside him as no one else.
And still the time ground on. They sat and ate. Diana and his mother exchanged pleasantries, and he did his best to join in the small talk. Diana was the bridge for that, of course. His mother would say something that sounded innocuous but still made Lucas bristle. Diana was there to diffuse his anger, softening his mother’s words and making him wonder if perhaps he overreacted. His mother certainly did, stiffening at the strangest things, only to have Diana rephrase his words into something more palatable. He had no idea how she did it, only that it worked.
And then finally—blessedly—the meal was done. His mother waved the servants away, but she didn’t stand. Instead, she stared hard at Diana, then him. Lucas was so desperate to be done with the whole affair that he considered making his excuses no matter how rude it might appear. But in this, his mother saved him.
“I suppose you wonder why I demanded you both eat with me.”
He’d ceased wondering about her reasons when she declared one set of buttons insupportable and another just the thing. But she did have the right of it. There had been nothing so far that warranted his last few hours of misery.
Thankfully, Diana knew how to be more polite than he. “It did cross my mind,” she said.
“I wanted to meet the woman my son wishes to marry.”
Diana’s eyes widened as she glanced at Lucas. He simply shrugged. “They have guessed it.”
“Nathan guessed it,” his mother said. “And he told me.” She looked to Lucas. “Is it true?”
“Yes.”
She nodded as if she had expected as much. Then she turned to Diana. “You should refuse him.”
It took a moment for her words to penetrate, and when they did, he shot up from his chair. “Mother!” He would have said more, but the furious words choked him in their rush to get out, and in that time, she held up her hand.
“Hear me out,” she continued. Then she spoke directly to Diana. “Years ago, his father and I married out of duty. It was what was done, of course, and though neither he nor I wished it, we both complied. We suffered each other long enough for me to get pregnant, and Lucas was born.” She lifted her chin. “I have not allowed him in my bedchamber since.”
Again, it took a moment for the words to penetrate his anger, but when they did, he was struck dumb. She’d just admitted that his brother was illegitimate, and his father cuckolded. And still, his mother kept speaking.
“Do not think I was alone in my indiscretions. He has always done as he pleased.”
That, at least, was something Lucas already knew. His father had never been flamboyant with his mistresses, but he had certainly frequented women other than his wife.
“I bore Nathan and dared him to say a single word against the boy.”
“Father has always raised him as a son,” Lucas rasped. And then another thought struck him, one that he couldn’t hold in. “Does he know? Does Nathan—”
“I have told your brother everything.”
He did not envy Nathan that conversation. Meanwhile, Diana remained more focused while he reeled.
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked.
“Because I hate his father.” She said the word with venom. “I hate that we wed because our parents wished it. I hate that we are shackled together for life.” She took a deep breath. “And I hate that how I felt about his father spilled onto the son.” Now she turned to look at Lucas. “I have treated you ill for all your life because I despise your father. That was not your fault, and I am sorry for it.” She pursed her lips. “And I cannot seem to change it.”
He stared at her, his mouth slack with s
hock. He could not credit that she’d finally admitted her true feelings toward him. To add, her apology upended his world, but then it was followed by what he had known from the beginning. No matter what she said, her feelings toward him remained hard. She would never love him as she loved his brother.
He gripped the edges of the table rather than stumble. It was too much to absorb in one blow. Meanwhile, she turned to Diana.
“You know something of being forced to wed.”
“I do,” Diana said, her voice subdued.
“But you are free now. Do not release that freedom under any circumstance. It is not just you who will suffer for it.” Her gaze went to Lucas. “Hatred has a way of growing and spilling onto the innocent.”
Lucas had no response to that. He was too stunned to form words. And once again, Diana came to his rescue.
“You assume that there is no love between your son and me. There is. Most definitely.”
His mother released a short snort of disdain. “It will not be enough.”
This time it was Diana who scoffed. “You do not know that, and it does you no credit—”
“The first time he criticizes something you purchased, you will resent him. And when he says you cannot go out to someplace you have deemed important, that resentment will grow. Bit by bit, there will be tiny infringements on your choices, and soon you will hate him.” She spoke as if she were saying irrefutable facts like the sun rises in the east and sets in the west.
“That is not true,” Lucas said, and he was gratified to hear Diana voice the exact same sentiment. But his mother was undeterred.
“Do you think he will let you pursue your own amusements? What if you wish to go to Ireland, and he deems it too dangerous? What if he does not approve a trip to the theater? He has set three guards upon you. Do you truly think that will ever end? Or that you will not resent him for it?”
“That is for her own protection,” he said. “There are dangers—”
“Everywhere,” his mother interrupted. “And marrying when one has achieved independence is the biggest danger of all. In the end, it will destroy you both.”
“That is not true,” he repeated, but he was very aware that Diana had stopped speaking. Instead, she pressed her lips firmly closed as she looked down at the tablecloth.
“Do you think your father is happy?” his mother asked him.
Lucas knew the man was not.
“Enjoy each other if you must. I can see that there is true affection between the two of you. But do not think it will last. And do not think a wealthy widow—a woman finally free—would not come to resent the man who takes it all away.”
Lucas didn’t respond. He could see the depth of his mother’s hatred and the truth that sustained it. She was not free. His father maintained strict controls over her purse and her entertainment. Their income had never been strong enough to support two households such that they could live apart.
Then she delivered her final blow. “Any child born in that anger would be damaged from it. You cannot deny that.”
Did he agree? It was true that his mother’s hatred had hurt him. Unbearably so at times because he never understood it. And now that he did, the pain of it still cut deep down in a place that would not be soothed.
Then Diana spoke, her voice strong though her face was pale. “Any child of mine would be loved wholly and completely.”
“Not when he looks like his father. Not when he so clearly prefers him to you. And not when bitterness carves the wounds deeper.”
God, it was true. The impact of that made his hands tremble. The hideous state of his parents’ marriage had poisoned any tender feelings inside her. And that had spilled like acid onto him. He had thought himself immune to his mother’s gibes, but now he felt how deeply she could still wound him merely by sharing her pain with Diana. By showing the woman he loved that it wasn’t enough. Whatever love they shared—whatever love his mother once had for her own son—had been lost beneath an ocean of resentment.
He swallowed, struggling to bring himself to function. But in this, he had forgotten that Diana was made of stronger stuff. Stronger even than his mother’s hatred.
“I have never heard anything so sad,” Diana said. Her eyes were bright with tears as she spoke. “I grieve for you,” she said. “But do not think anyone else is doomed to your fate. I will make my own choices, just as you made yours.”
His mother curled her lip. “Love will not be enough,” she said. “It does not last. Not when a wife is nothing compared to a man.”
Damnation! Now his mother was echoing the very words Diana had said to him. That a woman was nothing compared to a man. “Don’t be absurd,” he pressed. “She is everything to me.”
His mother shook her head, resignation in every movement. “I can see you are resolved.”
“I am.”
She looked at Diana, who gripped her fingers together. “You have a brain, girl. Think of what you give up. It is a horrid thing that I have done to my own son.”
Diana’s chin shot up as she met his mother’s gaze. “On that, I agree.”
“Then, do not repeat my mistake.”
Chapter Thirty
“What a witch!” Diana huffed out as she let her head drop back onto the squabs of the carriage. Lucas sat across from her, and she saw his head snap up at her words.
“You don’t agree with her?” She heard hope and relief in his words.
“That’s not the point,” she said. “To blame an innocent child for her mistakes is weak, petulant, and irresponsible. I wanted to slap her.” She snorted. “I still want to slap her!” Then she looked at him and felt her heart weep for his pain. He was the strongest man she knew, and his shoulders were hunched, and he kept fiddling with his hurt hand. She reached out to him and ended up replacing his hand with hers as she stroked her love into his scarred palm. “I am so sorry, Lucas. I cannot imagine how much you suffered with her as a mother.”
He stared at her hand as she worked, and eventually, she felt his fingers relax. “I never understood why she hated me.”
“I don’t think she hates you exactly. I think she hates her life, and you were just the target. What a horrible way to live. For all of you.”
He nodded and seemed to come more fully back to himself. A moment later, he turned his hand such that he held hers. “Was it like that for you, too? You were pushed into marriage just as she was and at a younger age.”
How to answer that? “I was very angry for a time, but I had plenty of legitimate targets. I dismissed my awful housekeeper, sacked anyone who sneered at me, and demanded respect from everyone and everything. I even forced Penelope to take her cat back. The damned thing hissed at me.”
“Cats don’t respect anyone.”
“I handed it to a footman and told him to deliver it to her. It was her cat. Why should I shelter it when all it did was claw at my skirts?”
His brows rose. “I shall be very careful about bringing you any pets in the future.”
She chuckled. “It was just the one mean cat. I’m actually rather fond of cats, in general. But as I said, it was something to focus all my anger on.”
“And how did you change? How did you stop?”
“Feeling angry?” She blew out a breath. “It’s exhausting being mad all the time. And Oscar and I became friends. I don’t think your parents ever did.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t think they did either.”
His voice was glum, and she squeezed his fingers. “It’s not your fault. The way she treats you was never your fault.”
He gave her a half-smile. “I’m grateful you don’t agree with her.”
She sighed. She already knew this conversation was about to take a bad turn, but she couldn’t let him keep denying her choices. “Lucas, she was horrid to you, but what she said wasn’t wrong. Forcing children to marry is reprehensible, and it damages the next generation.”
His hands tightened around hers. “We’re not children.”<
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“No. I am a free widow with wealth enough to live as I choose.”
He tugged at her hands just as she tried to slip away from his hold. “You cannot listen to my mother. She is a bitter, old shrew.”
Her voice rose to match his. “And she said nothing I have not already said to you. Why would I give up everything now that I finally have it?”
“For me. To be with me.” His voice was hard as he answered. It was the first time she’d heard this tone directed at her, and she didn’t like it.
“We were together last night and—”
He cut her words off with a quick shake of his head. “Do not make me regret last night,” he rasped. “We both wanted it.”
“We both enjoyed it.”
He agreed with a nod. “But that does not change what I want. You love me, Diana. You said so. Why won’t you commit to me?”
It wasn’t that simple, and he knew it. She hadn’t been blind these last years. She knew that his parents’ story wasn’t the only hideous marriage. She’d seen couples desperately in love turn against one another within a year. Always, the husband turned to his own amusements, and no one said a word. But the wife was trapped, unable to do anything without her husband’s approval.
“I don’t want to hate you.” And she might if he tried to rein her in.
“I don’t want to hate you either,” he said. And he might, she realized, if she continued to refuse what he offered.
There was no more to say as the carriage rattled on toward her home. And though they continued to hold hands, there was a coolness between them. She didn’t grip him as tight, and there was pain in his eyes when he looked at her. Neither said a word, but with so much already said between them, the silence continued to throb with their disagreement.
Until the carriage stopped. Until he escorted her back to her home, and her bodyguards took up their positions in her house. But he didn’t cross the threshold, much to her shock.
“Aren’t you coming inside?” she asked.
“I need to arrange things for later. The guards will see no one harms you.”