Once a Duchess(88)
Each specimen he scrutinized was healthy, despite the plant having grown in soil known to be contaminated with the disease. Damnation, I think I’ve done it. He’d have to grow a new generation of plants to be sure his hybrid was truly wilt-resistant, as well as ask some colleagues to check behind him by growing plants from his seeds. Hornsby would certainly help, he thought. A weak sense of satisfaction slogged its way through his mind, but it was too feeble to take hold and bloom into any kind of positive emotion.
He stepped unsteadily back from the microscope and reached for the glass of Scotch that had become omnipresent in recent weeks. Finding it empty, he limped across the conservatory to where a decanter stood on a table. As he poured, the door opened to admit his mother. He grimaced and concentrated on filling his glass.
“There you are.” Caro’s brows drew together in a worried frown. “You’ve spent too much time cooped up inside; you’re looking rather wan, dear. And you’re losing weight. Now that you’re a bit more mobile, wouldn’t you like to get outdoors? I’m sure Naomi would be happy to walk with you, or you could ask a friend to join us here.”
“I’m not asking anyone to Helmsdale to stroll with me while I convalesce.” He greedily swallowed a mouthful of liquor, willing it to more quickly dull his senses.
“You’re drinking too much,” Caro said in a fretful tone. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’ve got to take better care of yourself. You’re behaving just like the first time — ” Her mouth shut with a snap of her teeth.
Marshall laughed bitterly. “Go on, say it. Just like the first time I parted ways with Isabelle, you mean? Is it supposed to be easier to have one’s guts turned inside-out and stomped into the ground the second time? Does one become inured to the sensation?”
“Lord, son, you’re drunk.” Caro shook her head and tsked. “It isn’t even noon yet. You must get a hold of yourself. This cannot continue.”
His eyes roved the face of the woman who had given him life. Pleasant memories floated across his vision, of stories before bed and birthday dinners and time spent together in the garden. But they were all many years past. Caro had never learned to relent control of her children’s lives to them as they matured. Pity washed over him, tempered by his weariness of dealing with her ceaseless interference. “You can’t stand that we grew up, can you?”
Her eyes clouded. “I haven’t the foggiest notion what you mean. Watching my children grow into adulthood has been the greatest joy of my life.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She pinned him with an arch look. “And if one of you would make me a grandmamma before I die, my work will be complete.”
His jaw tightened. Anger coursed through his veins, setting his hands to trembling. Scotch sloshed over the rim of his glass and across his fingers. “You cannot be serious!”
She strolled to the glass wall and looked out over the expansive parkland, now ringed with trees displaying vibrant gold and orange foliage. “Of course I’m serious. All women of a certain age want grandchildren.”
He rubbed his eyes. Maybe he had been drinking too much. “You did everything in your power to separate me from Isabelle. I don’t believe for one instant that grandchildren crossed your mind. We might have had a nursery full by now, but for you!”
She turned and huffed. “You still don’t understand. For your sake, Marshall, I’m sorry she’s gone, but I can’t say I wish it were different. She was never the proper choice. Somehow, I seem to have failed to educate you when it comes to the importance of marrying a female of our class, a noblewoman of good breeding and character. Someone like Lucy.”
His eyes narrowed and he stalked forward, dropping his glass beside the microscope. Halting in front of her, he looked down with a disgusted sneer. “Hear me now, and hear me well: You don’t get a say about my life. My marriage was my own to handle, not yours. And what you did to us is unforgivable. Frankly, I don’t know if I will ever not despise you for what you took from me. I hope it was worth it.”
Caro swallowed. Her eyes slid down his face and chest.
“Mother.” Slowly, she raised her fearful eyes to his again. “I have an unfulfilled promise to keep.”
The color drained from her face and she quailed visibly. He gave her a toothy, ruthless smile. “I promised I would deal with you later, if you recall. Later has arrived.”