Page 11 of A Bluestocking for the Wicked Duke

He looked back; a bit startled that William had called him from his room. He ran into the house, William was expecting him to enter but he didn’t. Instead, in came his mother, looking incensed.

She said nothing at first. She went to the windows and opened the closed ones; she pushed the open ones wider so more light come into the room. Then she sat beside him and placed her hand on his uninjured arm. When she spoke, it wasn’t pity William heard, it was anger.

“Before this disgrace of a duel, I called you to my room. William, what did we discuss?” she asked him, looking out of the window.

“I cannot remember mother, revive my failing memory,” William replied.

He wasn’t in the mood to be reminded of his failures.

“I’ll do that, it is why I am here,” she said before turning around to face him.

Her eyes spat fire; there was no pity in them. William did not remember ever seeing his mother angrier than this.

“I told you I didn’t want you to go but that didn’t matter, you still would have gone. I told you that this man was cunning, he wouldn’t ask for a fight he felt he would lose,” she said.

Her voice was soft, it could easily have been mistaken for calm but William knew his mother. She wrung her hands together as she spoke, William could hear her knuckles crack. He wasn’t sure she was cracking them on purpose because that was a un-lady like thing to do and what was his mother if not cultured.

William risked answering her.

“How was I to know the sword would break? Swords don’t break. That was an occurrence I could not predict,” he said.

“You chose to duel a man of no honour, did you expect things to happen as they normally did?” she answered.

Her voice had risen now, showing the bitterness and anguish she felt.

“That is not the most stupid thing you did son. No, agreeing to the fight was the beginning of your folly. I told you, yesterday morning, that your father is a sick man. I begged you not to kill him.”

“Why do you bring father into this? How did I try to kill him?” William replied.

“What did you mean by your refusing to yield? Your life is of more importance than an intangible honour. I told you; leaving that place with your life is more important than your honour. Why do you choose to remain foolish? These things do not matter; do not hold them close to your heart.”

She was shouting now, not caring that the servants and stewards would hear what she was saying. William didn’t look at her, he preferred to look outside. He saw the gardener straighten up and look to the window, probably as a reaction to the Duchess’ loud voice.

“I watched the contest from the beginning William. You had so many chances to end it. You could have put an end to it from the very beginning but no, in your self-absorbed wisdom, you felt you could goad a man for so long and expect no reprieve. Have you learnt nothing at all?”

William struggled to stand up. He put his weight on his other arm and forced himself to his feet.

“I won’t stand here and take such insults, even from my mother,” he told her.

“You don’t need to. I am leaving. But know this, twice you have owed me your life: when I begat you and when I saved you yesterday. You owe me son and I will demand payment.”

She turned and walked out of the room, pausing at the door to add one more thing.

“The doctor will be here soon. Allow him do his work and get well. Leave this feud with the Duke of Buckingham and Chandos. Learn to take defeat with your head held up high.”

She walked out after saying that, leaving William feeling drained and distraught.

William sank back into the bed immediately the door slammed behind her. His mother was right on all counts. He could have ended the affair from the first exchange but his foolhardy nature and need to make a fool of his opponent got ahead of common sense. The Duke had been studying him, watching the way he moved and the way he evaded charges. He probably banked on the fact that William would be reluctant to kill him. He knew he would skip to the left and swung his leg hard at William’s standing foot, taking him down. There would have been no problem if the sword had not broken.

Why would the sword break?

William remembered that the swords had been provided by the Duke.

“Could foul play have been used?” he said to himself.

But he had picked first and he had seen the Duke pick his sword. William did not understand.

Chapter 4