Page 50 of A Lady’s Rules for Seaside Romance (The Harp & Thistle #3)

“He just kept…pushing it. It was a bit obsessive and annoying, but I followed along, anyway. We began to realize how difficult it would be to get a room at an inn. Everything was already booked up. I was upset, but Felton was absolutely furious. He wasn’t showing it just yet, but I could see it festering.

I could tell he was doing everything he could to dampen the rage.

But despite keeping quiet at the time, I could see the vein starting to bulge on his forehead.

The flushing of his neck. The tight fists that he wouldn’t release.

It reminded me so much of—” She stopped and paled.

“Of what?”

“Of, um, of Papa.” She looked down at her hands.

“Papa used to get furious with Mama, but he would remain calm when we were around—for the most part. But the room always felt different when he was like that. He wasn’t yet yelling at her, but you could feel it simmering.

As I got older, I could see the little signs of rage, like I saw in Felton.

I thought it was normal, though, for men to be like that. Until, well, you I suppose.”

Victor swallowed. “Me?”

She looked over at him with a small smile. “You hardly ever get mad at Mama and when you do, it’s mild annoyance. It’s nothing near the level Papa would get. You wouldn’t shove her to the ground, for example.”

Terror rang in his heart. “I would never .”

“But he used to play with us,” Mary said with a whisper. She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “I have good memories with him. I remember his hugs. I didn’t realize how bad he was.”

Victor could sense the internal battle Mary was having with herself over her father. An ache began to form in his heart. He had to remind himself that Winthrop was gone, had been gone for a long time, and could no longer hurt Anne. Or the children. But Winthrop would always remain their father.

“I remember my parents’ fights,” Victor said slowly. “I would hear them yell at each other, my mother cry over it, my father leave the house in anger or frustration. But those same people who held those negative feelings loved me, hugged me, played with me. Like your father did with you.”

Mary’s jaw set tight and she stared at the ground. “Until that time he hurt Freddy.”

Caution snaked through Victor, and as he didn’t know what to say to this, he kept quiet.

“Papa once slapped Freddy. The only time he hurt one of us. And after that, he was sent away and we only saw him a few times after with Grandpapa. Freddy and I were terrified of Papa by that point. Anyway…” Mary continued on a swallow.

“Felton reminded me of Papa. And now I know that’s not normal for a man.

” Mary sniffed. “Then Felton started talking about my money. Another thing that made me suspicious. Where was his money? Then, we left one inn and he… Well, I don’t want to tell you this part. ”

The hairs on the back of Victor’s neck raised.

“Mary, if he did anything untoward, you need to tell me.” He tried to keep his voice calm, but knew he wasn’t wholly successful.

But he couldn’t help it. Mary was as close to a daughter as he would ever have and he would murder Ashby if he’d laid his hands on her in any way.

Mary looked away. “He led me into this rather desolate place.” She took in a sharp inhale.

“He kissed me, even though I told him to leave me alone.” She paused.

“It didn’t go beyond that because I kneed him between the legs.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure it would have gone further, but I wasn’t going to take my chances. ”

“Good lass,” Victor breathed out. He rubbed his hands over his face.

“You’re not going to tell Mama that part, are you?”

“I can’t keep anything from her, Mary. You’re her daughter.”

She studied him for a moment with those innocent, dark eyes but ultimately gave in and nodded.

“We then went to the place where you found me, but by then, I already knew what was going on. He wanted my money and…well, me , but not for marriage. I don’t know if he ever even truly wanted that, but I suppose I’ll never know.

I’m glad I even knew what he was doing when he got all handsy!

Mama made it a point to make sure Freddy and I knew all about intimacy and what it really meant to be an adult.

If she hadn’t told us about that, I probably wouldn’t have realized what he’d been doing until it had been far too late. And maybe not even then.”

With vividness, Victor imagined all of the different ways he could kill Ashby and get away with it. “Dukes don’t go to prison,” he mused aloud.

Mary looked at him with a furrowed brow. “No, they don’t. Why, do you think Grandpapa will do something?”

“No. I mean me.” He looked over at her and smiled.

She smiled wide. “You made a joke, Uncle Victor.”

He couldn’t help but let out a huff of a laugh. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think the queen would be keen on you murdering someone and would not save you from prison for that.” Mary paused and turned her whole body in Victor’s direction. “So, you do know how to laugh. I suppose that one laugh is good enough for me.”

What a curious comment. “For what?”

“Oh, nothing,” she replied in a singsong voice. “Can I ask you something while I’m sozzled? I heard someone at the inn say that.”

“Erm—”

“Will you and Mama ever get married? Or are you going to spend your entire life pretending you’re not mad for each other? And then one day, one of you will die and the other will die right after from heartbreak?” She ended this with a romantic sigh.

Victor coughed.

“It’s just…you’re not really my uncle. And you’re always around. I thought maybe something was there that you were keeping secret, I suppose.”

Humiliated, Victor began to rub his forehead. “No, and honestly, I would not get your hopes up about that.”

Mary’s shoulders slumped. “Why not?”

Did she really feel disappointment about that? It didn’t matter. “Your mother and I are good friends, Mary. That’s all.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?”

Mary twisted her mouth in thought. “You know, whenever you leave our house, she always watches you out the window.”

This surprised him greatly. “She does?”

“Yes. And she doesn’t do that for anyone else. I once pointed that out to her and she got quite flustered and denied it.”

Victor mulled this over. “Do you think your mother holds affections for me?” Christ, he sounded daft. Hopefully, once Mary fully sobered, she would have no recollection of this conversation. Or at least, very little of it.

Mary hiccupped. “Do you mean do I think Mama is in love with you? Of course she is. I don’t care how much she denies it. I’m surprised you question it—it’s so obvious. I’ve been trying to push her toward you, but she’s rather stubborn about it.”

Victor noted Mary’s slurring had lessened, along with her swaying.

There was no time to wait for full sobriety, but at least she wasn’t as bad as she had been when he’d first found her.

Anne would have exploded if she had seen Mary in such a state.

“Forget all of that,” he said, pushing the brief hope away.

Even if it were true that Anne loved him, she would never admit to it.

“Right now, we need to get you back with your mother.”