Page 30 of In Service to the Duke

“Fret not. If a suitor cannot look past any accidental mangling, then he’s not worthy of you.”

With a large grin, she throws her arms about my waist and squeezes me tightly before heading off to her lessons. Miss Gillet should be well occupied with both the bluestocking and the hellion, leaving me free to check back in with my mother. The house is silent, like a tomb, as I make my way to her door.

As I approach, the doctor comes out, followed in tow by a maid. He spies me and shakes his head before reaching over to pat my arm. “She’s asking for you.”

My heart seizes until breath leaves me, forcing me to drag it back into my lungs. Is she so near death and I haven’t realized it? Again, I silently curse myself for even thinking of leaving when her life is so precarious.

Whatever issues I face by harboring these lusts for Miss Gillet will have to be pushed to the side to protect the ones I love most dear. Shoving the door open, I take in her slight form as she lies about, surrounded by blankets and pillows. They nearly swallow her whole.

As an omega, she’s always been on the smaller side. Such a ball of energy wrapped up in a tiny package. A smile teases my lips as I recall her scolding me as a younger Alpha. I towered over her, but that didn’t deter her ire.

“How are you feeling, Mother?”

She tosses her head over in my direction and blinks, her expression unseeing. “Robert? Is that you?” Turning back to her side, she coughs into her handkerchief, and my heart plummets into my stomach.

“Come over so I can see you better. I fear the dim lighting is making it nigh impossible to catch a glimpse of your handsome visage.” With a frail, pale hand, she pats the side of the bed.

As much as I want to flee the room, to run and never look back, I cannot abandon her. I must be a show of force, an Alpha as strong and sure as my father. Though he cannot be here to comfort her in her final days, I can be.

Tears burn my eyes as I make my way across, doing my best to shove memories aside as I make my way over to her. But try as I might, they slam into my brain, refusing to go away. Some of my earliest and happiest memories were in this room.

My mother would grant me her omega hum during fierce storms, interspersing with Father’s purr. They sheltered me, comforted me, and gave me more love than I deserved. Slumping down onto the bed, I take my mother’s hand in my grasp.

I was unkind toward Margaret. If Father were still alive and Mother in better health, they no doubt would have handled the situation far better than me. Though I am a duke, I find I still have so much to learn. It’s an education I received but never fully digested.

Until now.

She gives me her soft smile, so full of love and concern. Ironic she still worries over me when it’s her lying here like this. I gather her cool hand in mine and bring it to my lips, giving it a simple peck.

“You look better,” I lie, my heart stuttering as I take in the paleness of her cheeks.

“Falsehoods do not become you,” she chortles, leaning over to cough once more.

I feel so helpless seeing her like this. Unsure of what else to do, I let out a purr. If Father were here, this is what he would do. She lies back against the massive pillow and smiles, her face draining of tension.

In this moment, she’s serene, and it does my heart good to see her like this. It’s almost as if she were the woman I once remembered and not this shell. We sit there for several moments as she soaks in the comforting sound before patting my hand.

“I did not bring you in here to have you purr for me. But I thank you for it.”

“Then why did you wish to see me, Mother?”

“Babies.” Her tone is matter of fact, and yet, I fear I could not have understood her.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. Or are you becoming hard of hearing in your old age?”

I scoff. “You’re one to speak.”

She lays a hand over her heart, pretending to be hurt and offended. “To say such to a lady speaks volumes of why you do not have a wife.”

“There are other reasons which have nothing to do with my surly demeanor.”

“No,” she agrees, taking a sip from a nearby cup. “But it doesn’t answer how an eligible bachelor like you does not have the pick of the Ton. Perhaps there’s someone closer who’s captured your heart?”

I can feel the meddling in her tone as it washes over me, and yet, I cannot resist my mind going back to Miss Gillet. This simply won’t do. Shaking my head, I give her an indulgent smile.

“You are the only woman in my life right now. How can I court when I have my hands full with you and my sisters?”