“Indeed. My late husband had dedicated all his life to charity. He was a noble, steadfast man, always eager to help wherever he could.” The Dowager Duchess sighed.
Kenneth’s nostrils flared, for he had no idea what his mother was doing. She never spoke of his father willingly and, when forced, had nothing good to say, having hated him her entire life.
His father had not cared about his tenants and certainly thought nothing of the community in which they lived. He hadn’t attended church until the end was near, and even then, it had only been to save his mortal soul.
As for the orphanage, he’d cherished it, it was true. But only because of Edward, nothing else. Still, he had done little more than fund it. He’d certainly not shown his face more than once per year when the annual charitable ball was held.
“My father is also involved in the charity. I am certain they knew one another.”
“Lord Carlisle? Oh, yes, my husband spoke of him often. Thought the world of him. My late husband had a keen eye for the goodness in people. I always admired him for it.”
“It is a blessing to marry a man with such a good character and heart, I am sure. It must have been tragic to lose him,” Joanna said.
“It was. What a loss. As you can see by my attire, I am no longer in my mourning period, but I still find myself looking for him in the morning when I wake up.” The Dowager Duchess sighed and placed a hand over her heart. “I am almost glad not to live in this house anymore. Living in the dower house gives me a sense of a new beginning, and being here often reminds me of our loss.”
“I suppose that is the benefit of a dower house,” Joanna agreed, while Kenneth felt rage building up inside him at this false picture his mother was painting.
Who was this man she spoke of? Did she truly believe any of this? No, he knew his mother better than to imagine such a thing.
When his mother took another deep breath—no doubt to continue her narrative—he put his napkin on the table and steepled his fingers. “Mother, allow me to interrupt. I do not appreciate you painting a picture of a happy marriage to Joanna. We know the opposite was true. You never had a good word to say about my father.”
“Kenneth!” his mother gasped.
Joanna’s eyes grew wide, and she looked down at her plate to avoid eye contact with either.
“No, no, do not deny it. We both know your marriage wasn’t as idyllic as you presented it. You and Father constantly fought. Your relationship was far from the harmonious union you described. Indeed, you have been happier since his passing than I ever saw you.”
“How dare you speak to me in such a manner, Kenneth? And in my own home!” The Dowager Duchess clutched her pearl necklace indignantly.
“This is not your home, as you just stated. You live in the dower house. Besides, why pretend? You despised my father with every fiber of your being, and he was not a good man.”
This was an exaggeration, but Kenneth had gotten swept up in the wave of anger that soared through him at his mother’s pretenses. Was Society and its wants and needs worth this false picture she painted in front of a young woman who she believed would be her daughter-in-law?
“You will apologize, Kenneth,” his mother demanded.
However, Kenneth pushed his chair back with such force, it toppled over with a bang that seemed to silence even the mice in the attic. Then, with his hands curled into fists, he marched out of the room, unable to tolerate another moment of this ridiculous charade.
CHAPTER 13
Somewhere in the grand house, a door slammed shut. Joanna jumped in her seat, though she kept her eyes trained on the table, not daring to look at the Dowager Duchess.
What in the world had possessed Kenneth? It was true, Joanna had found his mother’s disapproval of her upsetting. She’d likewise detected something insincere in her voice when she spoke of her husband, but surely neither of these circumstances would lead to Kenneth’s volcanic eruption.
“Well, that was the excitement for the evening, I suppose,” the Dowager Duchess muttered, but the false cheer had gone from her voice, and her words caught as she spoke. At last, Joanna forced herself to look at the woman.
She suppressed a gasp, for the formerly regal woman looked almost broken as she struggled to keep her shoulders from shaking. Her silk handkerchief was pressed to her face, and when their gazes met, Joanna saw the tears well up in her eyes.
“Your Grace—” she started, although she had no idea what she wanted to say. It did not matter, for the older woman rose from her seat.
“If you will excuse me,” the Dowager Duchess uttered, as if hastening to get the words out before her sorrow and shock robbed her of her voice. Then, she darted out of the room, leaving Joanna alone, shaken by what had just happened.
I thought my family had problems, but it seems there is more to Kenneth’s family than meets the eye.
She shook her head when she heard the footman across from her shuffle his feet. She looked up, and at once, he turned his head as though he were as mortified as she by having witnessed this spectacle.
Joanna got up and turned around, eager to get out of the room. She had to find Kenneth. She wasn’t sure why, for there wasn’t much she could say to soothe him. They weren’t friends, and she didn’t know enough about his family to be able to give him advice.
She stopped in her tracks. Why was she even considering this? She didn’t know him. They had no connection other than their agreement, which would end as soon as it proved no longer useful to one or the other.
