Page 57 of The Duke’s Wager

Through all their discussions and conversations, he had never quite admitted the extent to which his father had adored his mother. He made it rather clear that her death had destroyed him, but it was far more than that. He knew that his father’s feelings for his mother ran deeper, far deeper, than anyone knew. It was these feelings that had pushed the man over the edge. He had cared too much about his wife, and her death subsequently broke not only his heart but his entire being.

Because of this, Edward had perfected the art of not caring. He had managed to stop any woman from getting too close to him, rather successfully.

At least, until now.

“Edward!” It was his grandfather’s loud voice that called him back to reality and he shook his head lightly, looking at the man with wide eyes.

“Grandfather?” William Lockhart looked at his grandson from beneath bushy eyebrows. “Where is your mind, boy? You are at the breakfast table, but you are elsewhere.”

Edward laughed uncomfortably at this, though he could feel the heat from his chest rising to his cheeks.

“I apologize, grandfather. I was merely… distracted.”

Evelyn giggled gently, and her eyes twinkled as she looked at her grandson. “Were you distracted by anything or… perhaps more accurately, anyone in particular, Edward? Perhaps a certain young woman?”

No… She could not possibly know that he was starting to have feelings for Lucy, could she? Not even his grandmother, astute as she was, could be this perceptive.

“A woman? There is a woman in his life?” William sounded far too eager and happy about this, and Edward started shaking his head. His grandmother pointedly ignored him and turned her attention towards her husband.

“Indeed. He visited young Lucy Beaumont a few weeks ago. Edward… you never told me how that meeting went.”

“Lucy Beaumont! A fine young girl!”

So they liked her! Quite a lot, by the sound of it. Why did a part of his mind celebrate his grandparents’ approval of his relationship with Lucy? No, he stopped himself quickly. It was not a relationship, and as such, their approval was meaningless to him.

“She is a fine young girl, I agree, William,” Evelyn now said. “Just like her mother. Henrietta was quite the spirited, clever young girl and my sources tell me that Lucy takes after her in that regard too – and that she is a sensitive, kind woman. The kind who knows the names of servants, the kind who cares about more than titles and status…”

“Henrietta was a dear,” his grandfather continued. “She was a talented girl too. I remember how fondly her father spoke of her – she could play the piano too, rather well if I remember correctly, and she had the voice of an angel. She used to sing at all our engagements. A lovely voice, she had – and her beauty was indescribable.”

He should remain quiet, Edward mused. The less he said now, the less his grandparents would make of the meeting with Lucy. And yet… he knew that he would find it nearly impossible to forgive himself if he did not make use of this rare opportunity to find out more about her mother.

“You knew Lady Lucy’s mother?”

He managed – rather surprisingly – to keep his voice calm, and William nodded. “We knew Henrietta’s parents better than we knew the girl, to be honest. Broke their hearts when she married that oaf, but she claimed to be in love, and they’d have done anything to keep her happy.”

“Oaf?” Edward leaned forward in his chair. “Certainly you do not mean Lord Birchrook?”

“The very same!” His grandfather raised his voice, slamming a fist on the table. “He killed Henrietta, that man … The poor girl, she never had a chance against a monster like him.”

“Oh, William. Do remain calm, my dear.” Evelyn placed a hand over her husband’s before looking at Edward too. “It was quite the scandal when they married. Young Henrietta was only nineteen, and Lord Birchrook…” She said his name with a grimace, the distaste apparent. “He was a well-traveled man in his thirties. He saw her when he was invited to a soirée at her parents’ estate where, as usual, young Henrietta played the piano for the crowds. He was used to getting what he wanted, the spoiled—”

This time, it was Edward who placed his hand on Evelyn’s shoulder in an attempt to ease her agitation.

“Well, yes. As I was saying, he was rather used to getting his way and Henrietta… Oh, she was the woman everyone wanted. And he was rich, handsome, and charming.”

Edward had to admit that he was rather surprised. He did not know why. Large age gaps in marriages were by no means unheard of, and many of those people had happy marriages.

He did not have to encourage his grandparents to continue. It seemed as though the scandal of the time was still fresh in their minds – and they wanted to talk about it. He found this strange. If their unhappy marriage was common knowledge, if Henry Beaumont was as awful as people now claimed to know, how did he repeatedly get away with it?

“We were at that wedding,” Evelyn continued. “Henrietta looked lovely, of course, but like a frightened child. We should have known right there and then that it was wrong, but no one spoke up. Then, when news came that she was with child…”

Evelyn shook her head sadly. “Everyone convinced themselves that the Beaumonts had a happy marriage – that Henrietta just needed time to settle into married life, that she merely needed to get used to being a bride. It was good, they said, that she married an older man, a man who would handle her difficulties.”

Edward perched up in his chair at this. “Her difficulties, grandmother? Like what?”

Could it be that Henrietta was not the perfect wife and mother? He was not quite certain that he wanted to hear about her imperfections – certainly it was not something he would share with Lucy.

Evelyn waved an irritated hand through the air. “Difficulties, ha! She was difficult as I am difficult.”