Page 75 of Forever Her Bachelor

Releasing his wife, he led her out of the dining room. “I would like to go through my mother things…” Taking a deep breath, he led them up the long hall filled with centuries-old antiques. He hadn’t the courage to sell anything here yet, but if he hadn’t married, there would be no choice. “Will you come with me? I-I don’t want to go through her things alone,” he admitted. The weight of the past hung heavily on his shoulders.

Pippa stopped and faced him, pressing her hand to his cheek. He hadn’t shaved that morning with his valet indisposed from injuries. St. Clara could feel the beginnings of a beard. He hated beards; his father always told him that a gentleman never would be so unkept with his person.

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask.” She rose on her toes, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

Pippa’s gaze roamed around the Queen Anne rooms, taking in its elaborate décor of soft pink and yellow. It was in a sectionof the castle she had not seen during their stay, the small alcove of rooms overlooking the north side of the estate.

Standing at the entrance, her gaze followed Chauncey as he walked in with the candelabra. His glanced around the room, the fingers of his left hand nervously twitching at his side. He looked like a scared little boy to her and not the strong duke she knew him to be.

The moonlight shining through the large windows had Pippa strolling over to view the grounds at night. She avoided the clutter as she held her hands out in front of her, trying not to stumble as she made her way over to the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Trunks cluttered three large, open pristine rooms. One room was empty of all furniture except for a beautiful dressing table and matching chair in the corner. The room was obviously made for dancing. The next room was filled with tables; perhaps it was a game room of sorts. It was littered with portmanteaus and several valises. The room that they had entered was the largest of the three, the furniture covered in crisp white linen.

Reaching the window, Pippa exhaled. She stared out at the night sky, the view breathtaking from that part of the castle. The lake shimmered green and black in the moonlight; a chorus of toads serenaded the sky. The moment reinforced her true feelings.

She could never leave Chauncey.

Pippa felt her husband before she saw his reflection staring back at her through the window. Chauncey’s usual calm demeanor was now shaken. He couldn’t stop moving, his eyes wandering around the room that was cluttered with his mother’s things.

“These were her favorite rooms. She would entertain here, throw parties for the tenants’ families,” he whispered, the words sounding heavy to Pippa’s ears.

The pain was evident in his voice. She knew how hard he had tried to forget his mother, and now, here they were in the one place where her memory was present in every room.

Pippa faced him, wrapping her arms around his waist, wanting him to know she was there for him in any way that he needed her. She understood all too well how difficult this was for him.

“Shall we look into the trunks?” Her head rested against his hard chest, feeling the erratic beating of his heart.

“Yes.” Chauncey kissed the top of her head before he released her.

She stood still for a moment as he removed his tailcoat and began uncovering the furniture.

“Kitten?” he called after her, placing a smaller trunk in front of the sofa for her to peruse.

Walking over, she stood in front of him, worrying over what they would find. “Are we looking for anything particular?”

“No. I just wanted to see if there was anything that could tell me who she was. If you’re tired, we can return in the morning.” He opened a trunk, peering in.

“I’m not tired. I want to do this with you.” It was the truth. She’d seen how much this meant to him the moment Mrs. Morris placed the heavy key in his hand.

“Good. Then shall we explore?” he asked, offering out his hand for her to join him on the sofa.

She laughed. They used to say that as children before they went on an adventure looking for rocks and specimens for her experiments.

“I would be honored, Your Grace.” Taking his hand, she sat beside him on the tan sofa, leaning over to peer into the trunk.

They removed items from the box quietly until Pippa found a baby blanket. She unfolded it, taking in its age and appearance. It was light blue with blue silk ribbon woven in between thetightly knit patterns. She rubbed her fingers over the fabric, smiling at the detail and care.

“I believe that was mine,” Chauncey whispered in the silent room, his voice so full of emotion.

“She kept it until her death?” Pippa smiled to herself, imagining Chauncey’s mother holding on to the memento until her death of pneumonia five years earlier.

Pippa could only imagine how the former duchess felt having to be separated from her own son. Touching the soft blanket, she saw a small child with dark curls wrapped up in the fabric.

A soft smile spread across her mouth. She could conquer the scientific world with the images she conjured in her mind.

“My father had always described my mother as cold and deceitful. Why would she keep this?” he asked, his brown eyes clouded in guilt.

“She was your mother, Chauncey.” Pippa placed her hands over his, squeezing his much larger one. “She loved you, and a mother’s love is everlasting and unmovable.”