Page 135 of Courting the Wrong Duke

“What happened?”

“Nothing I wish to discuss.”

“Lady Rosalind looked extremely upset.”

“She fainted. I imagine she is still unwell.”

His mother gave him a look that made it clear she had not raised him for twenty-some years only to be insulted by such an obvious evasion.

“She was laughing with you half an hour ago. Now she will scarcely look in your direction, and you appear ready to challenge the nearest tree to a duel.”

Despite himself, William glanced toward the nearest tree.

His mother sighed. “What did you say to her?”

“Why do you immediately assume I said something?”

“Experience.”

William might ordinarily have laughed.

Today, the word struck somewhere tender.

Experience.

His mother knew him well enough to recognize a quarrel from halfway across a garden. Yet she had somehow spent his entire childhood concealing half the truth about his own family.

William’s jaw tightened. “I said I do not wish to discuss it.”

“William, I am only trying to understand.”

Something inside William finally gave way.

“For once, Mother, allow me not to explain myself.” He regretted the sharpness almost immediately, but when she drew back, the frustration that had been building since the previous night was already spilling free. “You never demand explanations from Algernon.”

His mother frowned. “That is hardly fair.”

“Isn’t it? He tells us he is leaving London, returns without explanation, and apparently spends the evening wherever he pleases. No one questions him. Everyone simply accepts that Algernon has his reasons.”

“Your brother has been through a great deal.”

“Yes.” William’s bitterness surprised even him. “I learned that yesterday.”

The hurt that crossed his mother’s face made him wish he could take the words back. He seemed to be collecting regrets at an impressive rate, yet beneath the guilt remained the same anger he could no longer quite contain.

Rosalind’s words still echoed through his thoughts.

I believe you.

That was the worst of it. She believed he had never lied to her, but his honesty meant very little when everyone around him appeared capable of concealing the truth.

William drew a breath and forced his voice to soften. “I am sorry. But I cannot do this now. I wish to be left alone.”

He turned before his mother could stop him again and had nearly reached the house when he heard Lady Whitcombe ask something behind him.

His mother’s answer carried across the lawn.

“The lovebirds have had a quarrel, I suspect. This summer heat makes everyone terribly irritable.”