Mantheria swallowed and managed to nod.Alexander was dead.Her marital mistakes were in the past, and she was tired of being haunted by them.She could be civil to anyone for an hour or two.Even her husband’s former mistress, who kept secrets that Mantheria wished to forget, and for her son to never know.
Perhaps if Mantheria was to receive forgiveness for her own mistakes, she, too, had to be forgiving.Placing her free arm around Andrew’s shoulders, she said, “Let’s go get a pair of pistols from the gamekeeper, and I’ll show you how to load them.”
20
Sunny arrived at Sunderland House to discover that it was just as dreary and dismal as he’d remembered it.His mother greeted him, covered in black from head to toe and wearing a black veil like a ghost.“You’ve finally come to your senses about the Duchess of Glastonbury, have you?She was never going to say yes.”
He had not come to his senses about Mantheria, and he doubted that he ever would.Sunny loved her and was determined to show her that he could change and not run from difficult or unpleasant things.She didn’t need him to shoot an arrow through the loopholes of twelve axes, but she did need to know that he could be a responsible landlord and master.And hopefully one day a good husband.
“Mother, I am ready to make some changes to the house and the estate.And I would like you to move to the dower house.”
She brought a black handkerchief to her face, which was still covered by the veil, so it was impossible to be useful.“You would take my home from me, even before you have wed?Have you no heart, my son?”
He felt both his temperature and his hackles rise.“I may be your son, Mother, but you have never shown me any affection.If I have no heart, you are the person to blame.”
“I am a widow, mourning my late husband.I deserve your consideration.”
“And you’ve had my consideration and kindness for over thirty years, Mother,” Sunny said as gently as he could.“But I can no longer live like this—with the windows draped in black, the clocks stopped, the furniture under holland covers.This is my home, and I mean to make it one.And if you would like to spend the rest of your life mourning my father, you can do so at the dower house.Our tenants quit it two months ago, and my steward assures me that it is in excellent condition for you.”He waved his hands around.“And you are welcome to take any trinkets or furniture with you.”
He extended one hand toward his mother.He didn’t want there to be bad feelings between them, but neither would he allow her to use her grief like a sword, demanding his submission to it.
His mother stepped back, refusing to touch him.“Thrown from my own home.You are an unfeeling and unnatural son.”
Sighing, Sunny’s mother still only cared about her own grief.“I am sorry that you feel that way, Mother.But I am done with darkness.It is time that our house was filled with light.”
Then Sunny did something that he’d been longing to do since he was a child of six, when he’d realized that other houses were not like his.He walked over to the closest window and tugged down the black curtain.Dust bunnies floated in the air as sunshine finally shone through the glass pane of the window.It was like seeing his home for the first time.
His mother shrunk from the light as if she was some nightly creature that was harmed by it.She held up her arms as if to block the brightness out as she repeated, “Unfeeling, unnatural son.”
Sunny had heard this refrain since the age of three, and it no longer had any power over him.He turned to see the butler coming toward them.“Ah, Simmons.It’s good to see you.Will you please escort my mother to the dower house and have her lady’s maid pack her things?And please inform the housekeeper that I want any and all black material removed from the premises as soon as possible.”
Simmons bowed.“Of course, Your Grace.The master rooms are ready for you, as they have been for many years.”
His entire life, he’d not claimed his rightful place, for his mother had stayed in the mistress’s rooms, and it would have been odd and extremely uncomfortable if he’d tried to take the master’s.But Mantheria was right.He’d avoided uncomfortable things for too long.“Very good, Simmons.I shall go and freshen up before meeting with my steward and tenants.I have got a lot of work to do.”
21
Despite wearing a black gown and gloves, it seemed that every gentleman, of good birth and small funds, was still trying to fix his interest with Mantheria.Although she’d only returned to town yesterday, she had already received no less than a dozen nosegays for the ball with cards assuring her that the gentleman or lord had long admired her and desired nothing more than to comfort her at this time of grief.
In the end, she did not wear any flowers to Becca’s engagement ball.But once she entered her parents’ home, that didn’t stop her from being swarmed by every single gentleman, from age twenty-five to Lord Flemings, who was sixty-nine.Mantheria couldn’t dance in her blacks, so there was no way to avoid or escape her would-be admirers.She felt like Queen Penelope, besotted by suitors that she did not want and who cared nothing for her feelings and were pressing their suits anyway.
At least Sunny had listened to her and respected her wishes.But she shouldn’t think of him now.Her heart was still too tender, and she might cry.She loved him, but marrying Sunny would make them both so very unhappy.Although not marrying him had certainly not made her happy thus far.
Mr.Mills joined the group of single gentlemen that surrounded her and started droning on about the economy.Mantheria couldn’t help but search the room for Sunny.She wasn’t sure if he would be coming tonight; the gossip was that he hadn’t returned to town.She didn’t know where he was and tried not to think of whohe could be with.
“Since my sister is in mourning,” Wick said in a loud voice as he broke into the circle of suitors that surrounded her, “I find it in poor taste to attempt to monopolize her company.I suggest all of you go and find partners who have signaled their interest in dancing and socializing by the colors of their gowns.”
Chagrined and perhaps a bit embarrassed, seven gentlemen left the circle that had surrounded her.A few remained, as if assuming Wick’s words did not refer to themselves.
“I am merely trying to support Lady Glastonbury in her grief,” Lord Stapleton said.He was a baron, near the age of forty, who had buried his first two wives and was the father of thirteen children.He was openly seeking a mother for them, as well as a healthy bank account, if rumors were to be believed.
Wick’s hands clenched into fists, and the last thing that Mantheria wanted was for her eldest brother to show off his boxing skills at Becca’s ball.She stepped between the two men.She was a duchess, after all, and used to taking care of herself.“I appreciate your kind sentiments, my lord and sirs, but my brother is right.I am in mourning and would prefer to spend this ball with members of my family.”Mantheria knew that it was bad manners, but she couldn’t help but add, “Nor do I seek a second husband.If you are picturing yourself in such a role, I can assure you that you are wasting your time.”
Mantheria took Wick’s arm and pulled him away from the last three suitors, who all appeared stunned by her blunt words.When they were out of earshot, she said quietly, “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
“Sunny went to Sunderland House to work on his home estate.”
His estate.Mantheria was eager to know how her friend got on, but she was too embarrassed to ask.Wick was not in her confidence, at least not for matters of the heart, but he was Sunny’s best friend, and she wondered how frank he’d been with her brother.