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‘I am not running amok,’ Bellona said. ‘I am doing as I please.’
‘Exactly the same thing.’ His mother turned to him. ‘Tell her, Rhys. Tell her she cannot leave.’
‘I believe she should,’ he said stiffly.
‘Nonsense. Why, no man of any higher level than a nightsoil collector would give her a glance as she is. And she has good skin and rather a startlingly good singing voice. I am teaching her a hymn.’
Rhys took in a breath. ‘Is that what she sings to you, Mother?’
‘Why, yes.’ Her voice calmed and her shoulders relaxed. ‘Along with a few old songs from her country.’ She looked at Bellona. ‘Run along and change those stockings, and hurry back because I want you to decide on a colour.’
‘I will not hurry,’ Bellona said, leaving.
He cleared his throat, giving the wench a chance to pull the door shut behind her.
He must inform his mother about the tales. Then he would explain to this miss the repercussions of disrespecting a duke’s household—only a duke—and send her packing that very day.
Rhys forced himself to soften his words. He did not want his mother upset more than she must be. ‘She is a talebearer.’
‘Nonsense,’ her mother said. ‘I am quite sure she is honest. She told me the brocade in the sitting room is quite the wrong colour.’
‘I am not talking of fashion. I am talking of the deeper qualities of a person.’
His mother’s eyes widened. ‘She has some deep qualities. They are just deeply common.’
‘She has said—things about Father. Even suggesting he might have not seen you for a time after Geoff’s birth when you were ill.’
This time his mother put her hand over her open mouth. Her eyes fluttered.
Rhys knew right where this was heading. Bellona would soon be waiting at the door for the carriage to be pulled around.
The duchess clasped her fingertips as if her hands were cold and then whispered, ‘I do not know how I am going to teach her what is proper to speak of and what is to remain behind closed doors. A servant could have overheard. Not that I’m sure they... Well, you know how things get remembered like that.’
Rhys drew in a deep breath, studying the truth on his mother’s face. His father? His father had behaved so callously? ‘Mother. Did my father...?’
‘Well...Rhys, I thought perhaps your father had mentioned it to you before his death, or even Geoff. I know Geoff and your father spoke of it. I heard them. So I assumed you knew as well.’ She wilted against the sofa back. ‘I have just had so much on my mind. It is hard to think of everything.’
His mouth opened. Bellona had moved into his house and discovered family truths even he did not know of. And his mother was discussing these things with her instead of with him.
He took the matching chair.
Then his mother straightened and pulled her handkerchief from inside her sleeve and refolded the fabric, her eyes on the cloth.
‘Rhys, you understand...’ She looked up. ‘Geoff had just been born and it was a difficult birth. He was... I was... He cried so much and the nursemaids didn’t know what to do. My baby was small and didn’t want to grow at first. I felt I’d failed my husband. Your father and I did not always get on well. I may have...been harsh in some of the things I said. Your father was angry because I could not think of anything but the babe, so he left me. But then, Geoff started getting bigger and I became better and your father returned home, after a nudge.’
She daubed the handkerchief to her eyes. ‘That was a difficult time. And to think I would eventually lose them both... So near to each other.’
Rhys didn’t speak.
‘I had all a woman could hope for.’ Her eyes filled with tears.
‘My father...’ He shook his head.
‘Rhys, please do not tell me you are such an innocent. Sometimes, things happen.’
He stood again. ‘I am not an innocent, Mother.’ He straightened the sleeves of his coat. ‘I am just surprised that I never knew of this. That no one told me. It’s... You know how Father was. He was the perfect duke. Always.’
‘Yes.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘He was. And you know, Rhys—in some respects—nothing is forbidden to a duke.’
‘Miss Cherroll—a woman we hardly know tells me of this.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘How could you share this with her and not with me?’
‘She lost her own mother and has had so many trials. I understood much of the pain she felt and I told her. The words just escaped my lips.’
Since Bellona had been correct about that, perhaps she had spoken truth on one other thing, too. ‘You do not have to worry about my abandoning you, Mother, even when you become hale and hearty once more.’
