Page 30 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke (The Marlow Family Secrets #6)
He went down late, in no mood to socialise, and set his face as he greeted guests with a false closed-lip smile.
Katherine did not come over to him and he did not go near her, but he saw her.
He had seen her the moment he entered the room, clothed in the light blue satin he had chosen for her.
Her hair had been curled and beautifully dressed, and the cut of the gown showed off her slender neck and pale shoulders.
When dinner was announced he wished to partner Katherine and bathe in the consolation of her company as they ate, but that was impossible; he could not single her out so blatantly.
Instead, he led his grandmother into the state dining room.
The forty-foot-long table glittered with silver, cut glass and pure white linen.
He left his grandmother to use the chair at one end, then walked to the other end.
Aunt Penny was to occupy the seat on one side of him while Aunt Sylvia sat on the other.
At least with his family positioned in order of importance, his mother was further down the table and so he need not speak to her.
She had not looked his way since he had come down.
John saw Katherine enter the room much further back, on the arm of her reverend.
What damned idiotic benevolent mood had overtaken John when he had invited that man?
The reverend was seated beside her, while Phillip was on her other side, but they were right at the far end of the table. As the dinner progressed John spoke with his aunts and uncles on shallow subjects which did not interest him, while he regularly glanced at Katherine.
Katherine stood out among his family like champagne amid red wine with her blonde hair and effervescent smile compared to the dark-haired Pembroke women.
She must have sensed his gaze, because she looked his way, then blushed and turned away again, looking at her reverend.
His refusal to see her again had upset her.
He had pushed her away, but it was better things remained as they were now.
He returned his attention to his aunts and his thoughts to the debacle of his own life.
That was what he should focus on, resolving the issue with Wareham, and now, if he was to do it, he also needed to find out the answer to the question he had been asking all his life and never actually spoken until today.
Once the ladies had left the table, John leaned towards his Uncle Richard.
‘I was recently asked something about my past which I could not answer. I know my mother is closer to Aunt Penny than anyone else. Do you know how I came to live with my grandfather? I cannot recall, I was obviously too young to remember.’
His voice had been as nonchalant as he could make it and yet he saw his hand shaking when he moved to lift the glass of port Finch had poured.
Richard’s eyes widened as he looked back at John, a hint of wariness in his expression.
How many of the family knew John’s mother’s secret? He would guess Richard did.
‘You know your mother and father eloped?’
No, he had not even known that.
‘You did not,’ Richard confirmed.
He had not locked his expression hard enough, Richard had seen the response. All John’s facial muscles stiffened.
‘It is not my place to tell you,’ Richard continued, sounding uncomfortable. ‘The story must come from your mother not me, John.’
But Richard knew it. Who else then? John’s eyes scanned the men left in the room.
‘But I will tell you that your grandfather disowned her when she ran away to marry your father,’ Richard continued. ‘Of course it was before I married your aunt, but I know the duke went to fetch you after your birth, to protect you, John.’
‘From what?’
‘I cannot say. This is your mother’s story. Ask her.’
John’s gaze fell to his glass of port. ‘I have done. She will not speak.’
‘Well, that is her choice. But remind her you are not a child any more.’
John looked up at his uncle.
‘It was not a good time, John. It will take courage for her to recall it. And you will have to show her some understanding if you expect her to talk to you about it, and that is a quality I do not think comes naturally to you now.’
John’s eyes narrowed. His uncle laughed. ‘If you glared at her like that, I am not at all surprised she did not speak. Have some sympathy, John.’
Sympathy? Who had sympathy for him? It was his life which had been affected and everyone seemed to know the truth but him.
Looking back along the table, John caught his stepfather watching them, disapproval in his eyes.
John lifted his glass, feeling utterly vindictive and sipped the blood red liquid. Fuck you.
Once he had finished his port, he rose, which meant all the other men must too, and then he led them out to join the women.
Dark callous anger rolling through his head, he went in search of his mother to share what little he had learned, but Edward watched him, so he bided his time and waited until Edward had stopped watching.
His mother broke from the knot of her sisters to collect a glass of fruit punch from a footman and he moved to intercept her, casually standing in her path a few feet away from anyone else.
With his glass of dessert wine half covering his lips so no one else could see his words John asked, ‘Why did you not tell me that you and my father eloped?’
Her gaze flew up to his and her skin paled, if that were possible, because it was already alabaster.
‘Who told you that?’
‘Richard. There is no harm in me knowing it, surely?’
‘No, John, there is no harm but it is also unimportant. What difference does it make?’
‘Then why not tell me?’
‘Because—’
‘Richard also told me Grandfather took me from you after I was born. Why would he do that?’
Her gaze skimmed across John’s face. ‘John…’ She took a breath.
‘Why did you never tell me?’
‘Because you knew it. You were with him and you knew I wanted you with me.’
‘Did I?’
Her forehead furrowed. ‘John? Do you not remember me writing to you? I wanted you back but your grandfather would not let you go…’
‘Why?’
Her expression fell.
‘Let it be, John,’ she whispered after a moment. ‘Please. It does not matter. It is in the past.’
‘It matters to me.’
Ever protective, his stepfather arrived and his hand slipped about her waist. ‘Are you stirring up a wasps’ nest again, John? Leave it, or someone will get stung.’
John’s gaze locked with Edward’s. ‘Who?’
‘The people you are supposed to care about,’ Edward answered, looking both exasperated and condescending, if that were possible. ‘Your family.’
John looked back at his mother, burning to know the truth and not knowing what to say to get it from her.
Her pale eyes merely looked back into his as though they searched for something she could not see, and then she said, ‘I am not sure that he does care any more. You seem to wish to hurt us, John.’ Then she turned from him and walked away.
‘What did Richard tell you?’ Edward asked.
John stiffened his spine. ‘That they eloped and my grandfather took me from her.’
‘And I helped her fight to get you back. You were all she lived for before I met her. Do you ever remember not knowing your mother existed?’
John shook his head.
‘Because she refused to simply disappear. Your grandfather disowned her, but she still managed to keep in contact with you despite that. You should think of that, and nothing else. I witnessed your and her happiness when you were reunited. I know you care for her, and I know your mother cares for you. Stop this, John.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it will hurt your mother if you know. It is not important.’
John glared at him.
‘You cannot manipulate or threaten me, John. I did not let your grandfather do it and I will certainly not tolerate it from you. And I will not let you hurt your mother. If you are modelling yourself on your grandfather, you will be lonely, he was a hated man. Is that what you wish for yourself? No one has ever doubted your ability to take his place. You do not need to shut us all out to prove you can.’
John said nothing.
‘And you are my son in all but blood, whether you think it so or not.’ With that, Edward walked away.
John put down his half empty glass and crossed the room with brisk strides to reach the open French doors. He needed air and space.