Guinevere nearly groaned. In her experience, that meant her mother wanted to lecture her or point out some way in which she was lacking. But it was useless to try to get out of the talk, and within moments, Guinevere found herself alone sitting beside her mother on the bed.
Silence stretched, and then her mother situated herself, cleared her throat, and said, “I fear I have done you an injustice, Guinevere. I have been unable to sleep since my comment to you in the garden.”
Her mother’s never-before-heard admission stunned Guinevere into momentary silence. She swallowed. “Why, Mama?”
“Well, I… Well…” Her mother paused, took Guinevere by the hand, and squeezed gently. “I have tried at every turn to make your time on the marriage mart easier than mine was, and I often felt you fought me and made things more difficult for yourself. I know you believe I thought you lacking, and I want you to know that was never the case. I know how superficial Society can be, and I simply feared, since you came late into your looks, that you would be passed by. Then I feared you would become a spinster because you so stubbornly refused those other marriage offers.”
“I am sorry if I caused you worry, Mama. I simply did not want to marry a man who did not care a whit about who I was on the inside and only offered for me because my face and dowry were pleasing.” She would leave out the part that she had loved Asher for five long years and she suspected it would not have mattered who had offered for her.
Mama nodded. “I do understand that, my dear.” Her mother blushed. “I have been jealous of you.”
“Of me?” Guinevere blinked. “But you were an Incomparable.”
“I was a coward, and I still am. I molded myself into what Society expected of me, and I never had the courage to do otherwise. Shall I tell you a secret that only my mother knew?”
Guinevere nodded.
“I wanted to be an actress.”
That certainly explained Mama’s love of drama, but Guinevere kept that thought to herself.
“Naturally, it was forbidden, and I was not brave enough to pursue my dream. My mother told me they would cast me out of the family, and I’d be alone and penniless or wed to a destitute man, and I became fearful.” Mama shrugged. “I met your father in my first Season, and I accepted when he asked for my hand.”
Guinevere felt her mouth slip open. “You did not love Papa?”
Her mother’s sigh made Guinevere’s gut twist.
“Not at first, Guinevere, but don’t misunderstand. I was vexed—more with myself than anyone. I don’t think I could have loved anyone until I made peace with the choice I had made. And so I did. I love your father immensely now, and in my mind, I thanked my mother later for guiding me in that direction. So I did the same to you, forgetting how I once felt. I am sorry. I feared for your future so I pushed and needled and criticized. I—Well, since you were discovered in a compromising situation with the duke, I assume you have feelings?”
Guinevere didn’t hesitate to nod. She had longed for years to be close to Mama, and now that the opportunity was presenting itself, she did not want to let it slip by. “I love him,” she blurted.
Mama smiled gently. “Have you told him?”
“No, but I did tell him I did not accept any other offers of marriage because I did not love those men. Surely, he can conclude I love him from that.”
Her mother snickered. “Men can be very dull-witted at times, my dear. Don’t assume anything. Oh, and they can be very much like children, in my experience with your father. They appear utterly confident, but they want very much to know they have your love and devotion. If the duke has yours, which I suspect he does, my advice to you is to tell him. It will set your marriage off on the right path. I set my own marriage off on a terribly bumpy path that almost tore your father and me apart. I don’t recommend it.”
Guinevere nibbled on her lip as she thought. Laying her heart open to Asher scared her, but failing to grasp the love she longed for between them scared her more. She would tell him as soon as they were alone. She just prayed he did not trample roughshod over her heart once more. The fragile organ could only handle so much before it broke forever.
Chapter Sixteen
Asher cursed as he knelt in the muck and pouring rain, staring at the broken wheel of his carriage in disbelief. Not only was he leaving Scotland later than he had planned but now he had a broken wheel, which would delay him further. Concern stirred that he would be unable to return to London by Saturday as he had promised Guinevere he would.
Everything that could have gone wrong in the last week had gone wrong. The fire at his distillery that had called him back to Scotland had not been an accident as originally thought, nor had it been overly destructive. Luckily, it had happened when no one was there. He had been unable to discover who had started it, and he’d had to hand over the task of investigating to his right-hand man, Alec. It was yet another bit of ill luck in the past six months, but at least now that his inheritance was at his disposal, he had been able to move funds over to his two smaller distilleries so they could continue operating.
Asher sighed. Examining the wheel and surrounding area, he could not see what could have caused such a break. Not that it mattered a damn bit at the moment. The only important thing was that he would likely not reach London when he had promised he would. He worked quickly to release his horse from the conveyance, and then he mounted the beast. It neighed and reared up, nearly throwing him off. He gripped the reins, managing to stay on and calm the beast. Once the horse was still, Asher dismounted quickly and scanned its body for injuries. It was holding up one of its legs as if not wanting to put pressure on it. He knelt in the sludge and gently lifted the animal’s left leg to examine it.
“Damnation!” He clenched his jaw at the sight of the slipped shoe. “How the devil could that be?” he muttered. The stablemaster had told him the new farrier had reshod Wolferton four days ago.
His temper started to rise as the rain pelted him harder. An image of Guinevere as he’d last seen her in the garden filled his head—her hair flowing over her shoulders, her eyes glistening in the darkening shadows. With her was the only place he wanted to be.
He stood and patted his horse on the flank with some reassuring words. He’d have to tether Wolferton to a tree and walk to get some help. After completing the task, he set off in the rain as the light of day slipped away. Thoughts of Guinevere filled his head as he trudged along the sodden trail. Four offers of marriage, and she’d not said yes to one of them.
I did not love them.
That made him grin until her mother’s words entered his mind.
They were not Kilgore, I suppose.
