Duchess Material

Twenty-Eight

T he next morning Will headed for the breakfast room much later than usual. Cal would have finished hours ago, but Will didn’t mind the thought of having the room to himself as he couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. Phoebe would be his wife.

He had spirited her out of the house through the back entrance hours ago before immediately returning to bed for some much-needed sleep. But he had every intention of repeating their activities tonight. Perhaps in her bed this time. He could surprise her, much like she had surprised him. But rather than falling through the window, Will preferred something more subtle, like kissing her awake.

It was on that thought he entered the breakfast room. And found his mother seated at the table.

“Oh, good morning, darling,” she trilled, setting down her teacup. “Cal’s gone into the village, but I’ve been waiting for you, sleepyhead.” Will was rendered speechless. “Here, take a seat,” she said as she patted the spot beside her. Will was so stunned he obeyed without question. “Would you like me to make you a plate? I had Cook make a tray of creamed eggs for you.”

Will managed a nod. “All right.”

She flashed him a smile and set about gathering his breakfast from the sideboard while Will eyed her.

“I thought you were in Sussex with the Hoxtons,” he said.

“I was, but then Mrs. Hoxton wasn’t feeling well, poor thing. So I returned to London early. Then Cal sent me a message saying you were here.” She cast him a glance over her shoulder. “Do you still hate kippers?”

“Yes.”

She clucked her tongue and glided over with his breakfast. “Just like your father,” she said with a smile. “They’re good for your brain.”

Will’s mouth quirked. They had been having this debate since he was a boy. “I don’t care. They taste like low tide.”

“Nonsense!”

She returned to her seat as Will picked up his fork. “Thank you for remembering the creamed eggs, though.”

“Of course.”

Will attacked his plate with relish. He was far hungrier than he realized. His mother watched him with rapt interest.

“Oh my,” she marveled. “Cal said you had been keeping active here.”

Will grunted in reply. Better she not know exactly how .

“It’s good for you to get outside in the fresh air,” she continued. “You spend too much time behind a desk.”

“That’s not really a choice I have, Mother,” he said tartly. “Managing a dukedom is rather a lot of work.”

“I know that. But you have very competent people working for you. I only meant it needn’t consume you so,” she added.

Will set down his fork, but the sympathy in his mother’s eyes took the bite out of his temper. “You’re right.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that to me before.”

“Mother,” he warned. “In my defense, you haven’t given me much advice. It’s usually the other way round.”

She glanced down at the decorative tablecloth and began running her finger along the stitching. “I know,” she murmured.

Was his mother nervous? The thought was rather unsettling.

“You’ve had so much put upon you,” she began. “First your father died and you had to make sure we were all right. Then all the nonsense with the dukedom.”

Will raised an eyebrow. She had never once uttered a cross word about it before.

“And you’ve borne it all without complaint,” she continued, meeting his gaze. “But I think… I think it must have been very hard.”

Her voice grew thicker on those last words and Will had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Why did you come here?”

“Because Cal asked me to. He thought it would be good for you. For us,” she amended.

Will stiffened automatically. “I see.”

Her dark eyes searched his face. “I know you’re punishing me for something. I just wish you would tell me.”

Will stared past her out the window. What he would give to be with Phoebe right now. He was his better self with her. He let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t mean to punish you, Mother. Truly. But I’ve never been able to understand why you sent me away that summer. After I inherited.”

She looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t send you away . His Grace summoned you, and it seemed like the best thing.”

“But you didn’t even ask me. Just shipped me off to Derbyshire.”

“Well, of course I did. What did I know about becoming a duke? There was so much for you to learn. And by then you had already been at Oxford a year,” she pointed out. “You weren’t a boy anymore, Will.”

He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, feeling like a petulant sixteen-year-old again. “I hadn’t been since the day Father died.”

She bowed her head. “I know I relied on you too much back then, and I’m sorry for that. It wasn’t fair to you, all that responsibility. I suppose I thought it meant the inheritance was easier for you to navigate. But maybe that was just convenient thinking on my part,” she added. “And then Cal had his accident and he was so ill for so long…”

She looked up and her face was etched in such pain that Will felt it in his chest. That had been a terrible time for all of them.

“I know,” Will said, reaching for her hand. “I’m sorry. I—I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

Her fingers tightened around his palm. “Don’t be. That’s a mother’s job. And you’re right. I should have protected you more.”

With her words, the heaviness over his heart began to lessen. Will had grown so used to carrying that weight he hadn’t noticed its presence until now. Though it would take more than one morning for that old wound to fully heal, this was a promising start. “I appreciate that. Very much.”

She gave his hand another squeeze before letting go to take a sip of tea. “So then,” she began without preamble. “Cal said you made Phoebe Atkinson run out of here yesterday.”

Will nearly choked on a bite of creamed egg. “Did he now,” he rasped. Given that he and Phoebe had reached an understanding only hours ago, Will hadn’t told Cal the truth about their relationship. That hadn’t stopped his brother from peppering him with increasingly pointed questions last night. At the time Will thought he had successfully deflected Cal’s suspicions, but the smirk on his mother’s face told a different story.

“He also said that you spent the rest of the evening in a foul mood, though that doesn’t appear to be the case this morning.”

Will blew out a breath. Best get this over with as quickly as possible. “Phoebe and I are going to marry.”

But the amusement on his mother’s face immediately turned to shock. She pressed her hands against the table. “ What? ”

Will shook his head in confusion. “Well, what did you think I was going to say?”

“Not that!” She rocked back in her chair and squinted past him as if trying to understand a difficult math problem.

“You don’t approve.” Will was surprised by how devastated he felt.

But his mother finally looked at him and her eyes softened. “No, no. It isn’t that at all. Only I… I would have sworn it was Alex you were after.”

Will leaned his head back in relief even as he rolled his eyes. “Mother, we’ve been over this—”

“I know—”

“Again and again. And again —”

She laughed and held up her hands in supplication. “I know . I know.” Then she tilted her head, considering something. “Phoebe, eh?”

Will gave a decided nod. “Phoebe.”

“I’m happy for you. And, not that you need it, but I wholeheartedly approve,” she said, returning his nod. “That girl has a good head on her shoulders and a generous spirit. Excellent qualities in a partner.”

“Thank you,” Will said, noting that she hadn’t said duchess .

“And I know you’ve been worried all this time about finding someone who would make a good duchess,” she continued, as if she could sense his thoughts, “but I think it is better this way. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything to the title. Life is short, my boy. And happiness can be so fleeting. When you find it, you must grab hold of it tightly for as long as you can.”

Will had to look away from her shimmering eyes, lest they both become overwrought with emotion. “I intend to.”

“Well then,” she said with a watery smile. “I suppose you had better take yourself over to the Atkinsons next.”

Will waved a hand. “I’m sure Phoebe already told her sisters. I’ll head over there later.”

But his mother gave him an arch look. “Actually, I was referring to her parents. I came down with them on the early train.”

Will must have made some kind of verbal response, but he would be helpless to repeat it. Mostly he was very glad Phoebe hadn’t slept in. He threw down his napkin and pushed out his chair. “I’ll be back.”

“Should I tell Cal the news?” his mother asked as he headed for the door.

“No, wait for me,” he managed to call back. “Let me tell him.”

Will didn’t want to miss the gloating look on his brother’s face. He smiled at the thought and hurried even faster to the Atkinsons’ house.