Page 6 of A Duchess Untouched

Jealousy was a strange feeling to her. Selina loved her sisters and adored their children without hesitation. Yet, seeing Therese run so easily into her mother’s embrace, she realized—perhaps for the first time—that Cathy and Madeline had moved forward, building lives of their own, while she remained rooted in the moment her wedding day ended. Married and utterly alone.

“You seem exceptionally quiet today, Selina,” Cathy observed, her keen eyes steady on her. “Is something amiss? Your thoughts seem so far away.”

“Oh, it is nothing,” she lied. “I was merely watching the children and thinking how quickly they grow. It does not seem that long ago when they were still swaddled in their bassinets.”

“Oh, certainly,” Madeline sighed, slumping back into her armchair. “Do not remind me how quickly time passes. We must enjoy what we have while it lasts.” Her smile faltered. “I only wish our peace these past years could have lasted a little longer, too. Not with the recent turn of events.”

Selina’s stomach tightened.

Do they know? Has Grandmama told them already?

“What recent turn of events?” she asked, keeping her voice as even as she could manage. She held her left hand with her right to keep it from shaking.

“Oh, have you not heard?” Madeline’s brows furrowed, and she dropped her voice to barely above a whisper. “Papa is in trouble again, and things are quite dire.”

Selina became alert. Madeline was the most optimistic and cheerful of her sisters. If she said the situation was dire, it must be absolutely dreadful.

“What has he done now, Maddy?” she asked, her tone becoming urgent. “Is he ill? Did he have an accident?”

“Worse, Selina,” Madeline murmured. Her usually ruddy complexion turned pale. “He has gambled away his house.”

“Papa did what?” Cathy exploded, her teacup rattling violently against its saucer. “He cannot be that foolish, not after both our husbands paid off his debts and listened to his promises never to gamble again! The man is incorrigible. Hopelessly so!”

Cathy stood to her full height, reminding her sisters as to why the Duchess of Baxter was one of the most intimidating women in society. She was taller than most women and even some men.

“Please, Cathy. Keep your tone down,” Madeline pleaded, waving her hands to call her sister’s attention. “The children do not need to hear that about their grandfather. Papa is simply struggling. Whenever the winter chill comes upon him, he remembers Mama, and he loses his sense of judgment.”

“Excuses!” Cathy spat. “Struggling? All he does is gamble, while the rest of us struggle because of him. He has no shame. Have you forgotten that he had left us to fend for ourselves? The belongings we had to sell? Stop making excuses for him, Maddy. He does not even appreciate it.”

“He is still our father, Cathy!” Madeline argued, her complexion flushing red. “I cannot simply forget about him and let him ruin himself further. I am certain he will come back to his senses one day. I believe he will!”

“Papa is a lost cause, Maddy,” Cathy insisted coldly, shaking her head with strong vehemence. “The sooner you accept that, the better we will be. He will find a way to drag everyone into the gutter with him, the way he does away with his money and dignity.”

“Listen to yourself,” Madeline said. “You sound like Grandmama now!”

“Ah, perhaps Grandmama is the only one with any practical sense left among all of us,” Cathy replied, lifting her chin in defiance. She did sit down once more when they noticed the children looking their way curiously.

“Practical sense!” Maddy muttered. “Perhaps we have married powerful men so that we can help our father rise from his situation.”

“You have lost all sense, Maddy!”

Selina listened to her sisters bicker with dread. The conversation was not about Cathy and Madeline, but about what their father was experiencing. The man had a problem he could not rid himself of. Now he was homeless.

Even though Harleigh Quinten was a deeply flawed man, he was also a gentle and affectionate father when he was not under the influence of spirits. She could not bear to imagine him walking the cold, dark, and rain-slicked streets of London while his daughters lived in luxury.

“Will you two stop? This is Papa we are talking about,” Selina said. Her voice might not have been loud, but it instantly halted the argument. Her sisters watched her with surprise. “We cannot leave him without help. If Papa’s house has been taken away from him, where is he staying now? Is he roaming the streets? I certainly hope not!”

“I am not certain,” Madeline admitted, her face awash with concern. “Grandmama would never take him in. She hates him with a burning passion.”

“Tristan would never receive him either,” Cathy added. “My husband has already been more than generous with Papa, but he has his limits. Why do you not take him in, Maddy?”

“I… I would take him in,” Madeline said, her eyes turning to Selina. Why was her sister pleading with her? “But it would be impossible with Malcolm here.”

“Your husband’s brother?” asked Selina.

“Yes. He had worked so hard, Selina, and he has been sober for years now. I want him to remain focused on Emily and Alexander, and I am sure Papa will be the worst of influences on him. Those two cannot be brought together. Papa would drag him right back into the gutter.”

“You are right,” Selina agreed, understanding why Madeline could not risk it, not with Malcolm’s sobriety so hard-won. “You should not.” She paused. “Papa can stay with me. Wentley House has more rooms than I know what to do with. He can stay until he gets back on his feet.”