Page 17 of A Simple Marriage (Millionaires of Mayfair #2)

“Since when do accusations replace a hello?” Hugh challenged Pelham with a frown. “Have you lost all sense of manners?”

Pippa didn’t say a word. Instead, she walked to Grace’s side. “Ignore him. He’s just out of sorts about dinner.”

Grace tipped her nose in the air as she regarded Pelham. “Was the fish not to his liking?”

Pippa laughed. The sound soothed like a gentle waterfall. Instantly, Hugh felt his ire slowly subside. Pippa’s confession about the letters came out of nowhere. The adoring look when she mentioned Stanhope and his family made his stomach roil.

An image of a smiling Stanhope crowded into his thoughts.

He had to be losing his bloody mind as he discreetly glanced her way. Enthralled in a conversation with Lady Grace, she was animated and vivacious. An image of her standing in Raven’s Splendor, welcoming him home from a long day at the House of Lords, eased into his thoughts. Her laugh would greet him, and she’d press her lips to his cheek, but he’d trick her and take her in a kiss that would steal her breath.

His heartbeat settled into a comfortable rhythm at the thought. It was the first time he’d ever imagined a woman sharing his home with him as his marchioness.

He shook his head and studied the brandy. Perhaps Pelham had indeed slipped something into his glass to bring forth such thoughts.

“Duke?” Lady Grace regally stood in front of the table and demanded Pelham’s attention. “I wasn’t aware that Lady Pippa had invited the marquess to dinner. However, I fully intended to partake in the evening activities with Pippa, but unfortunately”—she shrugged—“it couldn’t be helped. An emergency arose that had to be dealt with.”

“Oh, really? I’m intrigued,” Pelham answered with an arrogantly lifted ducal brow.

As Grace and Pelham square off like two bulls in a too-small enclosure who’ve had enough of one another, Pippa edged to Hugh’s side.

“Let’s adjourn to my study, Grace.” The words from Pelham’s mouth sounded like an edict and not a request. “I’d like to speak with you privately.”

Grace’s nostrils flared. “I couldn’t think of anything more delightful.”

For a moment, Pelham stopped at the sarcastic tone of her voice, then waved a hand for her to accompany him. “I’m delighted you enjoy my company so much, Governess.” With a sniff, he pointed at Hugh and Pippa. “Neither of you do anything to displease me while Grace and I are chatting. We’re not finished with this conversation.”

“Let’s go for a walk in the courtyard.” Pippa turned on the ball of her foot and led the way to the double-door exit.

Hugh glanced at Pelham, who was silently fuming as he led Grace to his study through the side door.

Pippa waited for him by the exit. “Coming?”

He wouldn’t miss this conversation for the world. Surely, she wasn’t going to tell him that she’d decided to marry Stanhope. If that was the case, then he needed another bottle.

He gently wrapped her hand around his arm. They descended the marble steps that led to the expansive courtyard at Ardeerton House. They would be guaranteed privacy here. There were mazes, sitting areas, and even paths that wove around throughout the grounds.

Pippa pointed to a fountain in the distance. “There’s a lovely sitting area there where we can talk.”

They walked in silence until the soft gurgle of the fountain surrounded them. Hugh waited for Pippa to sit down before he claimed the seat next to her. He rested his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands between his legs.

“What are your plans?” He couldn’t even look at her because he didn’t want to see her expression when she said she would marry Stanhope. He’d be gutted right there in front of her. Perhaps it would be for the best. He would finally be put out of his misery.

“Simple, really. I plan on continuing to talk to Pelham.” She shifted in her seat closer to him. “I won’t leave him alone. I’m determined to secure that business. If he still won’t allow me the funds…”

Her lilac scent wrapped around him, holding him in place. “Stanhope?”

“He hasn’t asked me.” Her voice was so clear and soft, much like a nightingale.

Finally, he could turn and face her. “And if he did?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” She shook her head slightly. “I would like to ask you if you’d set an appointment for me with your family solicitor to review the trust documents to see if there’s a way around the marriage clause.” She turned and stared at the cascading fountain in front of them. “If there isn’t a way to break the trust, then I’ll see Lady Somerton. I would, of course, tell Pelham first.” She heaved a sigh. “Even though it probably won’t work.”

He filled his lungs with the cool, night air. It released most of the tension he’d felt ever since Pelham had returned home.

“I could tell by my brother’s expression that I didn’t change his mind about buying the dress shop. Perhaps I should continue with the original plan.” When he turned to face Pippa, she didn’t even blink. “I need to meet more men quickly if I want a proposal.” Then she placed one hand over his. “I promised to help you with your mother.” She looked down at their joined hands. “Truthfully, after I finished their dresses, I wanted to be done…”

He didn’t move a muscle. As long as she was touching him, he stay in this same position all night. “Be done with what?”

His voice had deepened.

“Be done with you.”

“Pippa,” he closed his eyes when he uttered her name. His voice had deepened betraying his pain. “Do you not want me to seek you out?”

“I don’t know.” She moved closer. “We’re both so much alike. Scared to take that step forward to commit…to something that’s becoming all too real.”

He nodded. He was well-familiar with her dilemma. It ate him up inside.

Pelham stood outside on the courtyard steps. He looked like a Viking, ready to step out of his longboat and tear someone apart with his bare hands.

No doubt that someone was Hugh.

Hugh walked home from Ardeerton House after Pelham came hunting for him. He and Pippa had left things dangling between them. She was running out of options to purchase her shop. She wasn’t harried about it, but thoughtful. Most women he knew would be frantic at the prospect of losing something so valuable.

The damp air had turned murky from the fog. It matched the muddle in Hugh’s mind. Perhaps he should cut to the chase and ask Pelham for her hand before Stanhope did. Then she could have the shop, and he’d, hopefully, be free from the worry of Stanhope’s proposal that currently resembled an albatross wrapped around Hugh’s neck that was squeezing tightly.

When Hugh had escorted Pippa to Pelham, thankfully, his friend didn’t berate him. But Pelham seemed to be as forlorn as Hugh was. Neither said much to the other as they were both lost in their own worlds. But the duke wore a certain chill about him that was unusual. When Pippa had reached Pelham’s side, he’d said that woman was waiting for her inside.

Hugh understood that woman meant Lady Grace. Perhaps Pelham was going through something with Grace that resembled what Hugh was going through with Pippa.

Hugh climbed the steps of Raven’s Splendor. As soon as he reached the door, Burnett was waiting for him.

“Good evening, my lord.” Burnett bowed. “Did you enjoy yourself at His Grace’s this evening?”

“Yes.” If being skewered in the heart could be considered enjoyment. He had to quit feeling sorry for himself. This was what he had wanted all along. He needed to let Pippa live her life, and he’d live his. “It was good to see Pelham back in town.” Hugh handed his hat and gloves to a waiting footman and thanked him with a nod. “I’ll be in my study.”

“Ravenscroft,” Bryce called out as he barreled down the stairs from Hugh’s living quarters. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Miss me?” Hugh teased. “Let’s go to my study.”

He needed to spend more time with his brother. Bryce always had a way of putting Hugh into a better mood. His younger brother cared for Hugh’s thoughts and offered his advice when he thought Hugh needed it, whether Hugh wanted it or not. That was true loyalty. And Hugh often did the same for him.

As soon as Bryce was by his side, he took Hugh’s arm and tugged him in the other direction toward the other side of the house where Bryce and their mother and Aunt Edith resided.

His brother stole a quick peek at Burnett and nodded, then lowered his voice. “I was on my way to have Burnett send a carriage to bring you home. It’s Mother. You need to come quickly.”

Hugh froze for a moment. “Is she ill?”

“It’s Father.”

That was all Bryce needed to say. Their mother was lost in her memories again. When that happened, she became inconsolable.

Side by side, they took the stairs two at a time.

“What caused it?” Hugh asked while practically running up the steps.

“After Lady Stanhope called on Mother, Lady Beauchamp arrived. Everything was fine at dinner. Aunt Edith and Mother went to bed. Then I heard Mother crying. I don’t know what happened.”

Once they reached the landing, they continued at their quick pace until they were standing outside their mother’s room. Hugh didn’t hesitate. He knocked on the door, then opened it.

Their beautiful mother sat on the bed with letters and books spread about her. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She held a handkerchief to her mouth as if trying to hold it all in while her other hand rested against her heart as if trying to ease her own pain.

As soon as she saw Hugh, she tried to smile bravely, but it failed.

“Mother,” he said gently as he and Bryce entered the room. He went to sit beside her on the bed. He took his dear mother in his arms and rocked her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She sniffed softly but didn’t answer. Her hands fluttered slightly, but then she wrapped her arms around him and held on for dear life. At least she was allowing him to comfort her. That hadn’t always been the case in years past.

Bryce sat on the other side of her and looked at Hugh. His brother’s gaze revealed the helplessness he felt at not being able to console her when her sadness became too much for her to bear.

How many times had Hugh sat in this exact situation? Too many to count. In the early years after his father had passed away, his mother had cried herself to sleep every night. Their marriage had been a love match. She’d always said that when he died, a part of her did too.

As a boy, he’d always thought it strange that he was the one who had to offer comfort. As the parent, she should have been strong enough for both of them. But as he grew older and wiser, it became clear that sometimes those feelings were so overpowering that there wasn’t anything she could do to keep from falling into the abyss of her grief.

Though his father had been gone for almost twenty years, his mother still suffered from a darkness that haunted her about his death.

Slowly, she pulled away from Hugh and sat between him and Bryce. With a trembling smile and watery eyes, she took Bryce’s hand, and with her other hand, she took his. “Marie came to see me today. She told me about a book her husband had bought for her on the spur of the moment. When she showed me the novel, a pressed rose fell out of it.”

“That was a thoughtful gesture on Lord Beauchamp’s part.” Bryce smiled softly.

“It was.” She let go of their hands and walked to a small bookcase that she kept in her bedroom. She pointed to a shelf. “Your father gave me these books. There were no special occasions. He was simply thinking about me.” She pulled one off the shelf and opened the cover. She withdrew a folded letter and held it in the air. He’d always write me a note telling me why he’d bought this particular book for me. It always had to do with a memory that we shared with one another.”

Hugh stood and came to stand beside her. “I never knew that about Father.” She was so frail at that moment, he was scared a light breeze might topple her over. So, he took her hand and brought her back to bed. “Would you like a sleeping tonic?”

She shook her head. “I already took one an hour ago.” She smiled sheepishly. “This won’t be like the other times when I was up all-night wailing. I promise.”

“Mother, no need to make promises or apologize,” Hugh said.

By then, Bryce had collected all her letters, books, and notes from the bed and placed them on the table beside the bed.

“We’ll stay with you as long as you like, so you’re not alone.” Hugh pulled back the covers, and his mother crawled in. He tugged the top cover over her and tucked her in, then pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I could sleep on the sofa if that would make you feel better.”

This was what a father did when their child had a nightmare. He gave comfort until all the monsters were dispatched from their dreams. There were no monsters for his mother. Only lovely memories that had the power to tear her apart.

“I’m fine, both of you.” She turned on her side away from them. “Good night.”

They both said their good nights. As Hugh opened the door, his mother sat up again. “Thank you, Bryce, for getting Hugh.” Then she smiled at Hugh. “Thank you, darling, for everything.”

They both nodded, then closed the door softly.

Hugh motioned for Bryce to follow him. Together, they made their way to Hugh’s study. “When did you find her?”

Bryce closed the door softly, then sat in front of Hugh’s desk. “About an hour before you arrived home. I stayed with her and tried to comfort her, but it wasn’t working. She needed you.” He took a sip of the whisky, then leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes. “I was fearful she was having one of her spells.”

Hugh stayed silent as he watched his brother’s anxiety finally lessen. His shoulders relaxed, and the tenseness in his jaw loosened.

“She needed both of us,” Hugh murmured.

Bryce smiled. “Thank you for saying that. I sometimes feel powerless when she becomes so distraught.” He stood and nodded. “I think I’ll read before bed. I need to concentrate on something else. Good night.”

“Good night.” Hugh waited until the door closed before he ran his hand over his face.

This was the reason he didn’t want any part of romantic love. All the memories tore a person apart. He refused to even put himself into such a position that might subject him to such soul-rotting grief.

He tilted his head and stared at the ceiling. What his mother went through at times wasn’t for the weak of heart. He’d seen her unable to get out of bed in the morning. She didn’t want to eat and didn’t want any visitors. When she cried, he tried to comfort her. But there were times when she grew silent, and it petrified him. He always worried that she’d become so lost in her grief that she’d lose herself completely.

All because she’d fallen in love with his father.

Frankly, Hugh wanted no part of it. He’d seen enough through the years of his own mother’s pain to see the damage it caused to everyone in the family. When Bryce was younger, he’d become frightened of their mother when she grieved heavily. He still was cautious around her.

Only he and Aunt Edith helped her. Tomorrow, he’d share with his great-aunt what had happened last night. She needed to know in case his mother had another spell tomorrow.

Funny, but he wanted to tell Pippa as well. He wanted the comfort she’d give him. For the first time in his life, he wanted to tell her because he knew she’d comfort him. He’d never had someone to help him afterward.

Frankly, it was beyond tempting to go over to Ardeerton House right now and tell her what he’d walked into once he got home.

Was that love?

If he even allowed himself to believe that he was in love with Pippa, he only had to remember his mother’s paralyzing grief. Yet, the thought that Pippa might marry Stanhope felt as if his stomach had been set afire. It was excruciating even to contemplate. And what was worse, he was certain Pippa felt the same. He could see it in her eyes.

They were both tangled in a knot of their own making. But Hugh bore the brunt of the responsibility. He should have never kissed her in the first place. He hadn’t a clue that his life would be in an uproar. He was feeling things he had no intention of ever feeling. Now, he had no idea how to remove himself from this entanglement without his heart being pulverized one way or another.

The problem was that he wanted Pippa.

And this yearning for her was only getting stronger.