Page 76 of Forever Her Bachelor

He shook his head, the brown forelock falling into his eyes. “My father said?—”

“Your father,” she began gently, knowing how he’d once felt about the man, “lied and bribed people to keep us apart. What do you think he did to your mother?”

“I don’t know.” He removed another item from the box: a white christening gown. “I’m afraid to find out.” He sounded like a boy again and not a man fully grown.

They were silent for a moment until Pippa pulled out a set of sketchbooks. She opened them, finding a perfect drawing of a baby boy with wide eyes and chubby cheeks. Pippa flipped the pages, finding likeness after likeness of a young Chauncey through the years, some of the entire family, a few of him holding baby Amelia.

The late duchess took great care in the details of her work. Chauncey was right about his father. In the sketches, he was happy and looked nothing like the ruthless man Pippa remembered with excruciating detail.

“I don’t understand. If she loved me, loved us, how could she betray her marriage vows so easily?” He stood, walking toward the window. “How could she just leave me with him?”

Pippa was quiet, not knowing what exactly she should say. She wanted to comfort him, but the truth was that his father was a deceiver. He had paid two people off, one of them presumably the mother of his child.

Placing the contents back into the box, Pippa opened another, finding personal contents, a journal, more sketchbooks, and a wooden jewelry box. She opened it slowly, revealing two letters tied with a white ribbon.

“Chauncey,” she called out, untying the ribbon and looking at the letters. They were addressed to him while he was at Eton.

“Yes?” He came to her side, and she passed him a letter.

“I-I can’t believe she kept these.” His voice was quiet and in awe as he practically fell beside her like his knees had gone out from under him.

“She wrote to you?” Pippa asked, not understanding how he had never told her that his mother had written to him. When they were younger, there was nothing they wouldn’t tell each other. For years, they would write their own letters, filling them with mundane facts about their lives.

She had never comprehended the relationship between Chauncey and his mother. If her mother were alive, no one would be able to keep Pippa from being with her.

Now in her death, the late duchess had proven what Pippa had always known: that she loved her son despite the poor treatment she’d received.

After a moment staring at the envelope with small, neat handwriting, he looked up at Pippa with watery eyes revealing his pain and remorse. “Yes… and I returned every letter unopened. Like she was n-nothing. What son does that to his own mother?” Dragging his hands down his face, he exhaled loudly.

Pippa set the remainder of the letters down before she pulled her husband to her, cradling him in her bosom. Her fingers combed through his thick dark hair as he held on to her, his body trembling.

“Do you want me to read them?” she asked, wanting him to find comfort. Perhaps the letters would give him what he needed.

Sitting up, Chauncey nodded. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

Pippa took the letter from his hand, opening it and pulling out the folded parchment.

She took in the same handwriting that was on the letter, her gaze quickly roaming over its contents.

“Dear Chauncey,

I know it has been some years since we’ve spoken or seen each other. I have begged your father countless times for you to visit Amelia and me, but he has refused. I need you to know that everything you’ve learned about me is not true. I love you and your sister very much, and I loved your father, though his betrayal was the greatest heartbreak I had ever known?—”

“I don’t understand. What betrayal?” he asked, interrupting Pippa’s reading.

Standing, he began pacing in front of her, the clutter only allowing him to walk a few paces before he turned around and began again.

“Do you want me to continue? There isn’t much more, but there is another letter.” Pippa held the second letter in her trembling hands.

Waiting, Chauncey peered down at the letter, a shadow taking over his handsome face. “She sent me one final letter a fortnight before her death.” He cleared his throat several times, two tears escaping the confines of his carefully built façade. “I sent it back immediately, and then she died.”

Pippa stared at her husband, horrified and saddened by his words. She couldn’t imagine ever ignoring her mother, but it wasn’t Chauncey’s choice. He was manipulated by his father, the late duke, a man who would have done anything to control the people in his life, especially his son.

CHAPTER 23

Dear Kitten,

I’m not sure if my mother ever loved me. My memories of her were of love and tenderness, but that does not correspond with everything my father has told me. If she loved me, she would’ve never broken my father’s heart and ruined our family.