“Please ask Her Grace to step in here. And send in a tea tray, with coffee as well.”
As the footman left, Thomas tried to tamp down the anger again, an unfamiliar weariness settling over his shoulders. “Why do you want to see Mother?”
“Because this concerns female matters, and I want a woman’s perspective. It’s obvious you would like to wreak some kind of vengeance on Mr. Bentley, even though it’s clearly not your place to do so. Have her brothers or father not taken action against him?”
Thomas nodded. “He and her older brother dueled. Bentley was shot in the shoulder. That was the end of it.”
Emalyn Ashton slipped into the room and went to her husband, who stood and bent to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. She looked from him to her sons, her eyes widening in curiosity. “This looks like a serious gathering of the minds. What pray tell do you wish of me?”
“What can you tell us,” Philip said quietly, “about Lady Rose Timmons?”
Emalyn froze. Then her eyes narrowed and she faced Thomas. “What have you done?”
“Mother—”
“You should not have waltzed with her. It was improper. You are not courting her.”
“Mother—”
“Everyone could see she had caught your fancy. The two of you were close to a scandal last night. Do not tell me you have ruined that poor child.”
“Mother—”
Robert let out a soft snort of laughter. “Tommy, you have never been able to fool Mother. Don’t try now.”
Thomas growled at his brother, but focused on his mother. “May I please speak or am I automatically guilty of some frightful wrong?”
Emalyn crossed her arms. “With your reputation—”
“Emalyn. My dear.” Philip’s tone was deeper than usual, carrying both affection and firmness in his words. “We need to hear what you know about Lady Rose and Roger Bentley.”
His mother’s lips became a thin line. “Why?”
Thomas surrendered. “Because he is apparently the reason she will not let me court her.”
Emalyn’s face remained inquisitive and resolute. “Do you want to?”
He hesitated, thoughts of Rose swirling in his head, physical... and more. The way she had felt in his arms during the waltz, the softness of her lips, her succulent curves, the way she responded to him. But also her quick wit, her rapid assessment of a situation. “I was not sure at first. She’s... she is unexpected. I just saw her—she’s a fascinating woman—unlike anyone I have ever met. I know we have not known each other well or for long... but now... I think...” His voice trailed off.
Emalyn looked at her husband. “Is that a yes? I’m a little out of practice with the way men talk, but that sounded like a yes.”
Philip’s mouth jerked. “That’s a yes.”
“So why will she not let you court her?”
“Because she says I need an heir... and that she... cannot.”
“Ah.” Emalyn paused as the tea arrived. Once everything was plated and poured and they all had warm cups in their hands, Emalyn settled into the wingback opposite Robert. Thomas explained all he knew, with Robert adding bits and pieces here and there. She listened, nodding occasionally. When her sons had finished, she looked up at Philip, who stood beside her chair. “And you want to know what the women have said.”
He nodded.
She let out a little sigh. “This is most improper. We should not be discussing it at all.”
“Mother—”
Emalyn held up her hand. “But if you’re going to understand—if you are going to be rejected for this reason—I believe you should know more. It hasn’t been a topic of conversation for several years. It’s mostly too painful for any of us to think about.
“Lady Dorothea and I used to be friends when we lived at Newbury Hall. Our sons are close in age. Dorothea was never a doting mother, but this... event... almost destroyed her. She came to me, begging for advice. She did not know how to deal with a child who had been so devastatingly injured, who was now... different. The attack happened in her husband’s office, some confrontation with Mr. Bentley. It was sudden and brutal, and it took both Lord Huntingdale and his son to break it off. The blood loss was... they thought they would lose her.”
