Page 112 of A Bluestocking for the Wicked Duke

“Of course not, your father is capable of that though, he had shown it before. I will just beat him soundly. What is the gain in killing your father?” he answered her.

She tugged gently at his breech, folding the fabric between her fingers. William only shook his head. His eyes now carried a forlorn look. He had decided.

He will not listen anymore.

“Where do you head now?” she asked him.

“Home, Joane. I’m going home,” he answered.

She nodded and spoke no more. William bent and cupped her chin with his right palm.

“Do not worry. This time I will be victorious,” he said.

He kicked into his horse and rode away. Joane watched him ride out of the compound, his hair flying in the wind, his shirt swollen with pockets of air. She shook her head. William was a proud man; he wanted his chance to prove himself. But what did they say about pride?

“Pride goes before a fall,” she said into the wind.

Chapter 23

Life without Father

William slowed down as he got close to his home. The day had started brightly at Norfolk and he had gone to Buckingham, to see Joane but her father had taken the shine off the rest of the day. William thought about what Joane said.

Do not partake in this violent contest.

He did not lose to the Duke the first time. The man took the win with underhanded tactics. William would not allow such tactics to even come near him now. He had learnt his lesson. He had to take the fight, he had to.

“The man didn’t offer me another way to his daughter’s heart anyways,” he said aloud.

William rode into his home and dismounted in front of the stairway. He saw Francis coming closer. The boy was walking slower than normal and with his head down.

“Hey, pick it up boy,” William shouted to him.

Francis looked up to William and walked faster. The clink of his boot against the stony floor took William’s gaze to his hard boots. William extended the reins of his horse to him when he got to them.

“You carry a long face, why?” William asked him.

Francis looked at William.

“We all have things that make us sad sir.”

William nodded his head.

“What makes you sad boy?”

Francis started leading the horse back to the stable.

“Go inside the house, Mr. William. You will see one of them. You wouldn’t be so interested in my decision,” Francis replied.

William was alarmed.

What is happening inside?

“What is going on, Francis?”

The boy turned back and pointed to the door. William ran up the stairs, jumping them in twos and threes. He pushed the door open and started walking straight to his father’s room. He didn’t meet anybody on the way so he couldn’t ask. When he got to the door, he pushed it open and entered.

On the two sides of his father’s bed were his mother and Regina. Both turned sharply to look at him as he entered. Both were surprised at the sudden entry. They were standing over his father, who was lying down on the bed with his eyes closed. He was wrapped in blankets and there was a flask at his feet.