Accidentally Compromising the Duke(70)

She had thought his icy reserve had only been for her. Had he always been like this? “Is Edmond not a man to laugh?”

“Hardly.”

Not even with his first wife? Adel ached to know. “I take no credit for it, but I thank you for the sentiments.”

“My son abhors grief,” she said, surprising Adel.

Lady Harriet retrieved the cushion she had been embroidering earlier and resumed her task with dazzling skill. “I witnessed something in my eldest son I had not observed in years. Peace. It made me feel hope and fear for my sweet boy in equal measure.”

A small smile curved Adel’s lips to hear Lady Harriet refer to a man so virile and ruthless with his power as sweet. “I have yet to uncover this sweetness.” Though if she admitted it, there had been nothing experienced in her life as heavenly as the sweet bliss of his kisses. The way he watched her sometimes, the intensity in which he loved her had given her hope. The mere memory was enough to make the flesh between her thighs ache. Heat crawled up her neck, and she hastily poured tea into a cup and raised it to her lips, praying Lady Harriet would believe it was the steam from the tea that would account for her flushed appearance.

“Edmond lost his father, a man he idolized, at the tender age of twelve. I was selfish in my grief.” She lifted pain eyes to Adel. “I almost lost my son because I was caught up in my own despair.”

A drop of blood stained the cushion, and with a gasp, Adel clattered the teacup onto the table and rushed over to the dowager duchess. Adel gently withdrew the cushion and the needle from her.

“Please do not speak of it, for it causes you pain.”

Adel understood, it had been four years since her mother had passed, and she could hardly think of her without her throat burning from the need to hold back the tears. There were days where her heart seemed to split in two, and she wondered when the void would ever be filled. Reading had only delayed the inevitable return of dreaded grief. Though since her marriage, life had been mostly pleasing, and she had thought little about the loss of her mother.

“Sit my child,” Lady Harriet said gently. “Though it pains me, I wish to speak of it, for I want you to win.”

Win? “I was not aware I was vying for a prize.”

The dowager duchess’s intensity finally penetrated, and Adel’s heart beat an alarming thud. She sank to her knees beside her, uncaring of the unladylike position. “Then tell me, quickly.”

Lady Harriet closed her eyes and spoke in a clipped voice. “I was so lost in my own grief I did not realize Edmond was wasting away. He’d cried himself to sleep every night, and was barely eating. I’d given orders for his tutoring to be paused, and for his friends to give him space. I did not help him, I allowed him to create a haven in which he could grieve and rail unrelentingly. And he did so for weeks, months. When I came out of my own stupor my boy was skin and bones. I called for the doctor and he gave me the alarming prognosis that Edmond’s heart had been weakened from the weight loss, and he needed special attention to encourage eating. A few days later he contracted a fever, and in his weakened state it was a brutal battle. The fear I encountered I never wanted to endure again.”

She took a shuddering breath and Adel squeezed her arm. “He recovered. I wanted to cosset him, wanted to keep him close, but he refused. It was as if something had died in him when his father passed. My sweet boy hardly laughed and played. The joy in him had been dimmed. He had been close to his younger brother Jackson, and he pulled from him. Edmond even insisted on returning to boarding school, instead of his tutors coming back to the estates. It was as if he wanted to flee the memories. Then he returned on his eighteenth birthday and met Lady Maryann.”

Lady Harriet smiled. “Maryann was beautiful and demure, and she lit something inside of him. It was a small spark but I was joyful. I encouraged the attachment, and I could sense his reluctance. It was as if he feared being too close to Maryann. But she persevered, and he offered for her. Yet he remained wary. As if he was waiting for something to happen. Though he loved her, he was remote at the best of times. It hurt and confused Maryann, but she coaxed, and he thawed, and it was beautiful to see Edmond enjoying the hope of a happy future. He basked in his beautiful children, and I would dare say he was happy. Then she died.”

Lady Harriett pushed from the settee and walked to the windows. “Suffice to say, my child, since he married you, for the first time I have heard my son laugh out loud since his father’s death.”

Adel flinched.

“I do not care what you did or the why of it…but I thank you. The coldness he exudes now, it is because he cannot bear the idea of losing you, too. I see your unhappiness, and I urge you, do not give up on him.”