Page 35 of Mad Duke March

Emily padded down the long corridor and knocked on the door of the only person who could advise her on what to do, the only person who would not judge her and would help her during this tumultuous time. The person she wished she didn’t have to bother, but the only person who could comfort her at a moment like this.

The door creaked, and her mother’s dear but pale face appeared from within. Right at that moment, Emily’s face crumbled and she broke into tears.

Mother’s arms embraced her immediately, her comforting scent enveloping Emily, her warmth, her softness like a balm to Emily’s battered soul. Emily didn’t know how long she cried in her mother’s embrace; she didn’t even realize when they’d moved to the little settee by the hearth or when she wiped away her tears and took her mother’s hands. But as that happened, Emily looked up at her mother and confessed, “Mother, I am with child.”

Her mother’s eyes widened for a moment before she looked away. When she turned back, she was biting on her lower lip, her face scrunched in a little grimace. “It’s Bernard’s, isn’t it?”

Emily nodded, a little hiccup escaping her lips as she wiped away more tears.

“How long?”

Emily licked her lips. “Eight or nine weeks.”

“And your husband doesn’t know? No,” she continued as Emily shook her head. “Of course not.”

“Mother, I am so embarrassed. And Father would be so ashamed of me! I got with child out of wedlock and then tricked another man to marry me…” A hiccup. She wiped her tears away, her body shaking. “How must you be disappointed.”

Her mother shook her head. “I am not, dear. Look at me.” She gently cupped Emily’s cheek, her gaze tender. “I could never be disappointed in you.”

“But I acted irresponsibly.”

Her mother smiled gently. “You did, that is true. But you loved Bernard and you believed that he loved you too. You would not be the first person ever to have relations out of wedlock. In fact, your father and I… we also anticipated our vows.”

Emily paused, her anguish interrupted by shock as she stared at her blushing mother. “You did?”

“Dear, you were born in January. Your father and I married in July, how do you think that worked?” Strangely, Emily had never once thought about it. “Those who are without sin, let them first cast a stone. The only difference between you and me is that your father was an honorable man. He married me and saved us—you and me—from ruin. Bernard did not. And what you did next, you did out of necessity, out of care and love for your siblings. You acted out of love both times. And I would never condemn you for that.”

“But what do I do now?” Emily whispered. “How do I tell my husband?”

Her mother chewed her lower lip in thought. “Have you… Did you… Is your marriage consummated?”

Emily shook her head.

“Right.” Her mother frowned, looking into the fire as her thumbs absently stroked Emily’s knuckles. An oddly comforting gesture. “Well, you need to.”

Emily reeled back. “You mean I have to pretend the child is his?” This was the last thing she expected her mother to say.

“Emily, I would never advise you to trick anybody. But you’ve seen your husband. He is angry, like a beast. I’ve heard rumors about his father. He was ruthless. And if the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, can you imagine what the duke will do to you when he finds out the truth about the babe? You need to make certain he thinks it’s his.”

Emily took a moment to process the words before saying, “But the timeline won’t fit! He will find out!”

“Not necessarily. He doesn’t seem very interested in your affairs. After the season is over, you can retreat home with us. Tell him that you’re more comfortable spending your confinement with your family. Or you can go to a distant estate away from him. He does not need to know exactly when the child is born. He shan’t take an interest in the babe beyond knowing its sex until the child is of age to go to school. And only if it’s a boy. That’s how little most noblemen care about their offspring. And from what I’ve seen of your husband…” She paused with a slight grimace. “He might care even less.”

Emily swallowed. “You want me to carry out a life-long deceit?”

Her mother squeezed her fingers. “You did your duty to us as your family; you saved us from poverty and ruin. Now it is time to protect your unborn child.”

Chapter Thirteen

Tyrone stared at his clean-shaven face in the looking glass. His eyes were sullen, his cheeks sunken, and his skin was pale.

He glanced at the hearth, where the broken pieces of a wine bottle still lay at the edge, and let out a deep sigh. He had been drinking for weeks, ever since he returned to British soil. And his appearance and his grim mood were the result of that drinking.

He knew himself well. Everything was bright and colorful when he was drunk, but the moments right after were hell. And for the first time in weeks, he was ready to go through hell in order to come out on the other side even if he didn’t know what awaited him there. He wasn’t quite certain why he wanted it, either.

It had something to do with last night. Something to do with the look in his wife’s eyes…

He shook off the memory, then quickly got dressed and made his way downstairs.