Page 11 of Her Sweetest Rogue (The Worthington Legacy #6)
T rey drummed his fingers on his oak desk, staring out the window. Judith’s letter couldn’t be put off another day. His solicitor needed this information quickly in order to look into Lieutenant Alexander Cutler’s past. Finding out about the man was of utmost importance.
Since last night’s dinner, and especially the heated exchange he’d shared with Judith in her room, his thoughts kept straying to the young woman and her beau.
Trey arched a brow. Exactly how close had Judith and her officer gotten before her parents died? A sour taste invaded his senses. Could this be the reason she fought Trey’s help in finding her alternative suitors? He’d have to ask her about it. Innocence was key in the art of husband hunting and if she’d been compromised… Trey groaned. Could the girl be in a family way? When had she last seen Alex?
Trey rubbed his forehead. If Judith wasn’t the maid his mother had expected her to be, Trey would have no choice but to dismiss her from his family’s house. Another scandal would be more than his mother could endure. What a disaster this was turning out to be.
A light hum from the hall drew his attention to the opened door. The swishing of skirts grew louder before his mother passed his study. Quickly, he stood. “Mother? Might I have a word?”
Seconds later, her head of silver ringlets peeked around the doorway. “You wish to speak with me?”
“Yes. Could you come in, please?”
She nodded and, ever the picture of grace and decorum, floated inside, smiling. “What is on your mind, son?”
He motioned to the cushioned chair near his desk. “Have a seat. I do not wish to exhaust you by making you stand.”
She sat and folded her hands on her lap before he took his seat.
“Mother, I have not yet had a chance to speak with you about your letter.”
“Beg pardon? What letter?”
“The letter you sent me a couple weeks ago, requesting my assistance with your newly appointed ward.”
She smiled. “Oh, that letter. What is it you wish to discuss?”
He drew his finger across the corner of the blank piece of paper in front of him. “I want to know why you asked for my help. If you needed someone to assist you in instructing the poor girl, why did you not hire a professional tutor?”
Even as regal as his mother always appeared, she grimaced, her lips thinning into a line.
“I’m appalled you would ask such a question. Judith is the daughter of my dearest friend. As a child, you knew the girl well. It’s not as if she’s a stranger to us.”
“Are you saying you expected me to help because I had known her as a child?”
“Why, certainly,” she said as though the situation should be perfectly obvious. “You know very well how important her parents were to your father and me. Judith needs people she can love and trust and who love and trust her at this very difficult time in her life.”
In silence, he growled. How often as a young man had his mother made him feel guilty? Apparently, she’d not given up this ability no matter his age. “Why did Trevor not do this himself? After all, it’s his responsibility as the duke.”
She arched a brow. “Your brother is married with a pregnant wife to care for. Trevor has other responsibilities and does not have the time to cater to me like you do.”
The truth came out. Finally. He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Forgive me, Mother, but do you not believe I have responsibilities, too?”
Her mouth pursed, eyes flashing. “The only responsibilities you claim are those of ill-repute.” She arched a brow. “Do you think I do not know? Rumors spread quickly, Trey.”
Bunching his hands into fists, he held his breath, trying to calm his ire. “Mother, the activities you mention are merely sport. I do have other responsibilities and business dealings requiring a great deal of time and attention.”
“Oh!” She stood and glared at him. “Trey, we have had this talk many times. I’m quite certain you are tired of hearing it, as I grow weary of telling. Your life is slipping away, and you do not have a thing to show for it. Do you want to be like your father, dishonorable as he was, embarrassing the family while causing scandal after scandal? Why can you not be more like Trevor? Even Tristan had been a good example of a decent nobleman.”
Trey’s heart clenched. Tristan had been the perfect example. Indeed their father’s curse flowed through Trey alone, and it was the very reason for Tristan’s death.
“Mother, if you will excuse me.” Trey turned his attention to the quill and ink on his desk. “I have pressing matters to attend.”
She huffed. “You cannot dismiss me that easily.”
“I must.” He glanced up briefly. “Due to my new responsibilities with your ward, I have arrangements to make on her behalf. Or have you decided against sponsoring her coming out ball?”
“Of course not.”
He stood. “Then if you will excuse me, I have schedules to maintain.”
With her back ramrod straight and chin lifted, his mother exited the study. Trey sank into his chair, picked up his quill, and dipped it in the ink-bottle before writing a list. He jotted down everything to accomplish before Judith’s ball. With each new sentence, his concentration faltered. His penmanship worsened until he merely scribbled.
In distaste, he threw down the quill and pushed away from his desk. He paced the Persian carpet like a caged tiger, his chest tightening with each step. Why did his mother have to bring up the past? She knew how much he’d loved Tristan. Although Trey might be following in his father’s footsteps, at least Trey stayed away from the kind of scandal his old man enjoyed creating.
Out of everything Trey’s sire had taught him about life—good, bad or otherwise—the most important lesson was in love. His father instructed him countless times not to give his heart to a woman. The pain could never be worth it. And it was a lesson Trey hadn’t needed to be told. He’d seen it every day of his childhood, watching the bitterness between his parents. They loathed one another. Over and over again, Trey’s mother reminded him of how much he was like his father. Not just now, even as a boy she’d chastised him for the similarities.
Even now it was difficult for him to ignore his mother’s wishes. He knew she loved him, but he couldn’t let her shape him into something he was not…and as much as she wished it, he’d never be a younger version of Trevor.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. He swung around, half-expecting to see his mother. Instead, Judith stood in the light of the hallway, angelic in her cream-colored day dress. Her chestnut hair was swept up in a stylish chignon with wisps of curls lining her forehead and around her ears. He almost wished they were outside again, just so he could see the golden touches from the sun.