Ruth sniffed, and her head snapped up. “Scones? Are they cheese? Please tell me they are cheese.”
“They are indeed.” He set them on the desk. “I called for tea and plates.”
“You are a love. Thank you.”
He came around and bussed her cheek. “Come, Mama, take a break to eat.”
As they sat at the small round table, he hoped that the scones and the second item he had brought would smooth this morning’s conversation about Charlotte.
“You asked me to come talk to you first thing this morning. Before we talk, allow me to present you with this. ’Tis something I ordered for you as soon as I returned from Oxford, and it just now was finished.” He slid a small brown leather pouch across the table.
Ruth pulled the drawstring open, glancing from it to him. “William, dear, what is this for? I fearIshould have had a gift foryoufor graduation.”
“Mama, if ’twasn’t for you shouldering all this these past years, I would not have graduated. ’Tis a thank you for hiding and hoarding and scrimping and saving to ensure I had that time.”
She blinked at him.
He could not remember seeing his mother cry. He supposed she had been hardened by the constant sorrow his father brought her. But now her eyes shimmered, even as she continued to blink.
Drat, this was the second woman in a matter of hours who he’d brought to tears when he’d meant to be supportive. He might be going about this wrong. “Mama, please. This was meant to bring you happiness, not sadness. And you have yet to even open it.”
“Oh, my dear sweet boy—” Ruth broke off with a gasp as the onyx starling brooch fell into her palm. “William! No. We do not have the funds for this.” She stood, folding her arms with a small frown.
“’Tis fine, mama. Sit down, please, do not hover over me and berate me for your gift.” He grabbed her hand, tugging.
She reluctantly resumed her seat, her back ramrod stiff, her gaze on him wary.
He sighed. “Mama, do you not trust me? I have been handling our investments for over a year now, and the returns have been splendid. You spent far more on my education. And, if you’ll pardon me for saying it, father’s monthly club bills are more than this. I chose to do this. It was commissioned, so whether you like it or not, you are stuck with it.” His jaw set. This was not going as he’d hoped.
“Really? We can afford fripperies?” She gestured.
“’Tis not a frippery, ’tis a gift for my mother,” he gritted out.
Her back relaxed a bit. “I beg your pardon, William. I do trust you, and I love you very much. You make me happy and proud. I do not need gifts, but”—she added quickly when he glared at her—“every woman enjoys receiving them. ’Tis lovely and I shall cherish it.”
Leaning in, she kissed him.
He braced himself. They needed to finish their discussion of the night before. Gifts might smooth her ruffled feathers, but they would not make her forget.
Just as he suspected, his mother set her shoulders. Placing the brooch to the side of her plate, she took a breath and said, “We must discuss the Countess of Peterborough. She is simply not acceptable for you, William. To begin, she must be a decade older than you.”
“She is not. Anyway, what is the age difference between you and father?” He knew it was more than a dozen years. “Charlotte mentioned that her husband was a decade older than her.” He shrugged. “It seems quite acceptable, from what I can see.”
“William, please do not be obtuse. What can she possibly see in you, a youth just out of school?”
He tried to rein in his anger. Striving for patience, he took a breath and said, “Hopefully the same thing you see in me. A well-educatedman, doing most of the work to manage his legacy without the authority he’d normally have to do so. A responsible adult who shares a number of interests with her. By the way, that”—he gestured at the brooch with his chin—“would not have been possible without her guidance on investments.”
She scoffed. “Even so, her inappropriateness for you goes beyond the age difference. Not only do women need more childbearing years, but they need the ability to bear children. She was married for more than eight years without any children.”
“That is true. But she has plenty of years left. Who is to say whether that was her or her husband’s fault?”
“You cannot afford to risk it. You are the only son of an earl!”
“She has raised these concerns with me, too. I am in no rush for marriage, and you know as well as I do, as a young titled gentleman I have a lot of leeway. And as a widow, she at least has a bit. We are taking it step by step.” His mother did not need to know he had a limited amount of time to convince Charlotte of his true intentions. He drew a breath for fortitude, knowing his mother would balk at his next statement. “I need to prepare you, Mama. I am in love with her, and I do hope to wed her if I can convince her to have me.”
His mother looked stricken.
He patted her hand. “I believe you have much in common and would enjoy her company.”
