“If I may be so bold as to ask, did you and Papa love one another?”
His eyes never left his mother’s face. Thomas knew he would see the truth in her expression, not her words. Her body flinched ever so slightly, and when she pursed her lips together in a thin line he had his answer, regardless of her reply.
“We had a mutual respect for each other.”
Stunned did not come close to describing his emotions. She’d told him the truth. He thought she would declare herself in love with his father––which he knew was not true. Thomas had not spent twenty years living off and on in the same house with them to be unable to see they were mere strangers to each other. How they managed to produce four children baffled him. And how could his mother have respected his father in the later years? Those years when his father flaunted his mistresses, drank and gambled away not only his life, but his fortune?
It did not matter what type of marriage his parents had. Thomas saw things differently now, and he knew he would marry for love. No less. And so would his brother and sisters. Sebastian might think himself in love with Emma, but Thomas knew Emma did not love Sebastian. How could she love his brother when, as an innocent, she’d kissed him with passionate abandon?
No. He would not approve such a marriage, ever.
“That is all fine and well, but I believe in love and will not agree upon any marriage for Sebastian, Isabella, Amelia, or Miss Emma Hamilton without it.”
His mother gasped.
“Do I make myself clear?” Thomas demanded.
“Yes, you have. Now I would like to discuss Sebastian’s commission.”
“That is another thing he needs to consider carefully. How is it that suddenly he does not want it? I think he is letting his heart dictate his future. Sebastian may declare himself in love with Miss Hamilton. But to my knowledge, she has shown no such emotion for him.”
“Do you think I don’t know my own sons?” The dowager pierced him with her all-knowing blue eyes.
“W . . . what do you mean?” Thomas’s stomach clenched tightly. Could she possibly know how he felt?
“I have eyes, and I see the way you look at her when you think no one is watching. And I see the way she looks at you as well. But heed my warning, and heed it well. If you marry the girl, you could subject the family to scandal once again. Oh, it will be nothing like we have seen before. But still, some might take offense to a duke marrying his American ward. Just something for you to think upon.” She rose from the settee. “Good day, Your Grace.”
Thomas rose as well and nodded to his mother. “Good day.” He sat back down after she left the room. That was the first time in his memory, since taking over the dukedom, that she had dismissed him. When had he lost control of his family? And how he hated it when she called him, ‘Your Grace’… He was her son, for God’s sake.
After sitting and staring sightlessly into the room, for what seemed like hours, Thomas left and made his way into the library. The Marquis of Amesbury’s library somewhat lacked current reading materials, and he needed something, other than Byron, to take his mind off his uncomfortable conversation with his mother when he returned to his friend’s residence.
And he was sure his mother could do without him that afternoon when their drawing room would be invaded by gentleman callers again.
***
Having several hours before afternoon tea, when Emma would have to smile and converse with gentlemen she had no interest in, she thought she’d find something to read. She’d left the library in such haste last evening that she hadn’t found a book.
Emma looked around the room, this time making sure she was alone. She did not want a repeat of last evening when she’d come to the library and found the duke. She shivered and hugged the memory to herself.
Oh, to be truthful, Emma did want a repeat. But she was also thankful he’d left for the day. She had time to think and knew she could not allow a situation like that to happen again, no matter how much she wanted him to kiss her and hold her. She hoped reading would take her mind off the devilishly handsome and darkly brooding duke. As her fingers scanned the volumes she heard footsteps behind her.
She held her breath and turned. Relief washed over her.
“Sebastian, you startled me.”
“Forgive me.” He glanced behind himself and closed the library’s double doors. “May I have a word with you?” he asked, obviously anxious.
She swallowed, calming her heart and putting aside her disappointment that it wasn’t Wentworth in front of her now. “Yes.”
Sebastian rushed forward and took both her hands in his large warm ones. Soft blue eyes looked down into hers. When she realized what he was about to say, all air vacated her lungs.