The Portrait of a Scarred Duke by Patricia Haverton

Chapter 20

“I’ve been meaning to speak to you about Miss Thorebourne,” Seth’s mother said, as they continued along the winding path which wove through the gardens.

Seth hid a wince. He really shouldn’t have invited Elinor to stay on the estate. It would be much more difficult not to linger on his infatuation for her if he allowed her to live on his estate. Not that he’d been very successful at not thinking of Elinor to begin with. He’d merely thought that he might be able to make Elinor happy, and so he’d made his offer. Once he’d realized that—perhaps—he shouldn’t have, it had already been too late. He couldn’t in good conscience deny her something which by his own insistence would make her life easier.

“I probably should’ve asked if you cared before I invited her to live on the estate,” Seth said.

“Why would you?” his mother asked. “You’re the Duke of Worthwood now. You may have whoever you wish live on this estate.”

Seth smirked. He had a feeling that his mother didn’t truly mean he could have anyone live on the estate without receiving her approval. “I still respect you and your feelings, Mother. Even if I’m the Duke of Worthwood.”

His mother hummed, sounding as if the matter was of little consequence, but since returning to Worthwood, Seth had become accustomed to her facial expressions. He caught the way the wrinkles around the corners of her eyes crinkled just a little. She was pleased with him.

“She has a sharp tongue,” his mother continued, “and she’s amusing. She made me laugh the other day.”

“I’m glad. You could use some laughter in your life, Mother. We all could.”

Hopefully, whichever lady he chose to marry would be able to make his mother laugh, too.

“True enough, but do recall that she’s an artist. She’s here to paint you, not to make me laugh or to entertain me. I’ve a lady’s maid for that.”

His mother gestured to Jane, who smiled. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Jane was there to entertain his mother, Seth supposed. He wasn’t certain that Jane had ever made his mother laugh. The young woman was a dutiful lady’s maid, but she didn’t have Elinor’s boldness. No one seemed to have her boldness or her awkwardness.

And I shouldn’t find either of those appealing.

“I know what Miss Thorebourne’s purpose is,” Seth said, narrowly avoiding calling her Elinor. “But if she can also amuse you while she’s here…”

The Dowager Duchess sighed. “You are a far better son than I deserve sometimes.”

“Hardly. You deserve the best of everything, Mother, and I fall far short from where I should.”

He hadn’t been there for her when his father died, and it had taken him far too long to admit that he did need to marry and quickly for all of their sakes. A better son wouldn’t have hesitated. A better son wouldn’t still hear and feel the sea in his dreams at night.

“You’re only human,” his mother replied, patting his arm. “We all fall short of where we should be.”

Seth felt a swell of fondness for her, for his dear mother who loved him so much and worried about him so much despite him being a man in his prime. “I hope my wife is as caring as you are,” Seth said. “As forgiving.”

“I’m sure she will be,” his mother replied. “If I’ve given you nothing else, I like to think I’ve given you my good judge of character.”

She hadn’t judged Elinor very well, but Seth wasn’t going to mention it, especially since it seemed that his mother had changed her stance a little and now favored the young woman more.

“Why did you change?” Seth asked.

“Change?”

“From your youth,” Seth said. “All your causes. What happened, Mother?”

The Dowager Duchess shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose I found my place in the world, and there was so much to do once I was there that I had little time for anything else. Why would you ask?”

Seth had been thinking of Elinor and the unfairness of people not recognizing her talent because of her sex, and every time he thought of that, he felt a fire burning inside him, an unquenchable desire to do something to change the world for her.

“It was only something I was wondering.”

His mother didn’t look as though she believed him. “It’s good to believe in something and to fight for something noble,” she said, “but I found that with my causes, I was trying not to think about my own life and how unhappy I sometimes felt in it.”

“You were unhappy?” Seth asked.

“Often.”

Seth searched his mind, trying to recall any instance when his mother had been unhappy for any length of time. Of course, there were times when she’d been unhappy, but he couldn’t recall any so long or deep that she would have felt the need to distract herself from them.

“I don’t remember that,” he admitted. “I was probably too young.”

“I tried to hide it from you.”

A lump rose in Seth’s throat. He swallowed, trying to force it away. Suddenly, he wondered if his parents’ marriage wasn’t the fairy tale he remembered it being. Maybe they hadn’t fallen in love quickly. Maybe they’d never fallen in love, but no, his mother seemed so genuinely distraught at his father’s absence that there was surely some tender feeling between them.

There must have been.

“I wish you hadn’t tried to hide it,” Seth said quietly. “I’d have liked to have known, so I could’ve helped comfort you when you needed it.”

The Dowager Duchess shook her head. “You were a child. You shouldn’t have needed to comfort me, and I wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Was it because you didn’t expect to become a Duchess or something else?”

“I suppose it was a little that I was unused to being a Duchess. I knew I’d made a good match with your father, and I wanted that to make me happy. I wanted that to satisfy me and be everything I needed, but I learned that it wasn’t. I was left on the Worthwood estate, and your father…”

Seth said nothing, letting his mother gather her thoughts. He’d known always that his parents hadn’t been a love match. His father had inherited a poor estate and a respected title, his mother had a large dowry. They had grown to love one another.

“Your father was wild in his youth, and like most young men, he wanted to follow his passions.”

Seth thought guiltily of his own fondness of the sea and wondered if he hadn’t done the same thing, abandoned his responsibilities for his passions. Admittedly, he hadn’t left behind a young, lonely wife.

“What passions did Father have?” Seth asked.

“Ladies,” his mother said reluctantly. “Brandy, delights. He did eventually mature, and accept the responsibilities of the dukedom. And he flourished, as you know. He was a great Duke.”

Seth nodded, but he privately wondered if his father was that great if he’d begun his marriage by neglecting his own wife’s happiness. Even if his parents hadn’t loved one another, he still felt that his father had a duty to try and make his mother happy.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know,” he muttered.

“You shouldn’t linger over the past, my dear son,” his mother said. “Only look forward.”

“I’m not lingering on the past,” Seth said. “I’m trying to learn from it, and I suppose I’ve been thinking more about your marriage and the past now that I’m being faced with my own future.”

“You’ll be a wonderful husband.”

Seth nodded, as though he agreed. Secretly, he found it hard to believe he’d make even an acceptable husband. He wasn’t handsome anymore. His desire to marry was solely a matter of obligation, rather than any desire to be affectionate with anyone else. Even his passions were selfish. The only person he’d managed to care about of late was Elinor.

“That you’ve come back to Worthwood when I need you the most proves that,” his mother said.

Was that true, when he’d been so reluctant to return home? It wasn’t as if he’d been especially enthusiastic about abandoning his life at sea, even if it was dangerous. Seth suddenly felt his scars very acutely. It was strange how he could almost forget about them, and then, other times he’d feel them all too strongly.

And even though I’ve resolved to wed this Season or at least, to do my best to find a bride, I still can’t say that I want to do it. I don’t want to do so much, and surely, that’s still selfish of me. Childish, too.

It was already late January, and it seemed to Seth as if the Season was coming much too soon.

“Are you looking forward to the Season, Mother?” Seth asked.

“I am. I do enjoy the occasional ball, and I’ll enjoy seeing you among the ton once again. And I’ll enjoy seeing what all the ladies are wearing. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the new fashions. Your father and I didn’t go to London for—well—I suppose is was since you left.”

They’d gone to the Season for him. Seth felt a twinge of guilt.

“I’m glad,” Seth said. “We’ll have to buy new gowns for you. I should send word to London, if you haven’t already?”

“I have. I’ve asked for Amelia Brooks, as usual. I’m sure that she’ll put me in the latest style. She has always been good for that.”

They turned the corner, returning back the way they’d come. Seth looked at the sun’s position in the sky. It was nearly time to see Elinor again. He wondered if she was already in the studio, arranging her materials and preparing her space for him. She hadn’t needed to wake early and travel to the estate. She’d been able to sleep in her warm bed and even received breakfast from Letty, who’d been assigned as her maid.

Seth felt his pace quicken, reflecting his eagerness to be with her again and to ensure that she appreciated being on the estate once again. His mother’s laughter interrupted his thoughts. “Where are you going so quickly?”

Seth forced his feet to slow. He gave his mother a quick grin. “I suppose it was the thought of the coming Season. I’ll confess that I miss dancing. There wasn’t much of it at sea.”

“I can tell from your steps when we danced,” his mother replied slyly.

Seth chuckled. “I will make sure that I practice more before we return to London.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

“With you, if you prefer,” Seth added.

“We’ll see. It depends on how I feel.”

And how his mother felt could vary greatly from day to day. Seth didn’t mention that, though.

“Of course, Mother.”

Seth paused. He had a sudden, delightful thought of dancing with Elinor. He imagined her delicate hand curled over his shoulder and her lips slightly parted, her eyes bright as she gazed upon his face. She’d probably wear green or blue, something embellished with pearls and ribbons. He imagined her skirts swirling around her. This was a dangerous direction for his thoughts to wander.

“Henry,” Seth said, trying to move his thoughts into safer territory. “Was he with my father in those early days?”

“Oh, yes,” his mother replied.

“And I suppose he managed Worthwood, while my father…” Seth trailed off. “Indulged in his vices, shall we say?”

“He did.”

Seth nodded, trying to decide if that revelation changed how he thought about Henry. Their conversation still played through Seth’s head, like a drama. Was it cruel of him to think that he ought to find another steward, after Henry had served the dukedom for so long?

“We don’t work well together,” Seth said.

“You don’t work well together, or you don’t want to?”

“I’m not sure, truth be told. I want us to work well together, but I feel as though Henry wants us to manage the dukedom as my father did. And maybe that’s not the best way or the right way for me.”

“It seems in the nature of young men to want to forge their own paths.”

Seth nodded. He knew that very well. The problem was that he didn’t know if it was just him being an impulsive young man or if there was something more genuine to his disagreements and dislike of Henry.

“Did my father ever have disagreements with him?”

His mother shook her head. “Not that I can recall, but your father seldom discussed Henry with me. Or really, anything to do with how the dukedom was managed.”

Of course he hadn’t. Seth wished that he’d somehow magically known how soon his father’s death would be, so he could’ve returned home and learned some of these much-needed things. But he hadn’t. Now, it was much too late.

“There is something about him that I just…” Seth trailed off.

There really wasn’t any way he could possibly explain this that wouldn’t sound entirely ridiculous.

“Yes?” his mother prompted.

“It’s nothing,” Seth said. “I’m just not sure if we have the same vision for the dukedom, and I don’t know if that’s my fault or his.”

“Why does it have to be anyone’s fault? Why can’t it just be that the two of you simply don’t work well together, and it’s nobody’s fault?” his mother asked. “Sometimes, that happens.”

“Maybe, but it has consequences,” Seth replied. “What should I do if we can’t work effectively together? I can’t simply dismiss him after serving the dukedom so faithfully and supporting my father for so long. That would be cruel.”

His mother glanced at him. She sighed quietly. “Sometimes, you have to do things you don’t want to as the Duke of Worthwood. You have to make sacrifices and difficult decisions.”

“I know.”

He’d left the sea, his one true love, for the dukedom. He couldn’t imagine a greater sacrifice than that.

“Then, you should know what you have to do,” his mother said. “While Henry has served the dukedom faithfully, if his vision does not align with yours, you would do well to find another steward with whom you work better.”

Seth drew in a sharp breath. She was right, of course. Two competing visions for the future of the dukedom would only end in disaster, and Seth wasn’t confident that he could convince Henry to align with his vision.

And if Henry had actually done anything harmful, it would be an easy choice, but he hasn’t. Thus far, he’s only disagreed with me and given me this awkward feeling. I just don’t like him, and I can’t even decide why.

“The dukedom must come before all else,” Seth’s mother continued. “Never forget that.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

But as they left the gardens and parted ways at the familiar staircase, Seth wondered if that was a promise he’d ever be able to keep. He was too selfish to be the Duke of Worthwood. He longed for the sea and for Elinor, and even though he’d agreed to fulfill his duties, his future still seemed bleak and empty.

If he wanted to replace Henry, he needed to do it quickly. He needed to begin thinking of a new potential steward immediately.

But if I replace her uncle, what will Elinor think?

A lump rose in his throat. His chest felt tight. It shouldn’t matter what Elinor thought. She was just an artist, nothing more than that. And yet it mattered so much. If he replaced her uncle Henry as the dukedom’s steward, would it hurt Elinor? And could Seth possibly sacrifice her happiness for anything, even Worthwood?