Any Duchess Will Do (Spindle Cove #4)(94)

She touched one of her cool, papery hands to his face. “My darling boy. I’m so sorry.”

“How did you bear it?” he asked. “How did you bear this three times?”

“Not as bravely as you have. And never alone.” She looked around at the painted walls. “The loss was keen. In my heart, I have a room something like this for each of them. But even in the darkest hours, your father and I took comfort in each other. And in you.”

“In me? God. I never felt good enough to be one son. Let alone take the place of four.”

“I hate that you felt that way. Looking back, we should have been more nurturing. But we were so afraid of coddling you, when we knew the strong man you’d need to become. Left to my own devices, I could have hugged you to my bosom and held you there until your sixteenth birthday.”

“Well.” His mouth pulled to the side. “I suppose I’m glad you resisted that urge.”

She patted his cheek. “Griffin, I’ve always looked at you and seen a generous, good-hearted man. I’ve merely grown impatient waiting for you to see the same.”

“I wanted to be better for her.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “I didn’t hide all this because I was ashamed of Mary Annabel. I was only ashamed of myself, my dissolute life. I’d resolved to make myself a better man. I didn’t want anyone to look at my daughter and see one of my mistakes.”

Mistakes he kept right on making, it seemed.

“She was right,” he said. “Pauline was right about our chances, but she had the blame laid wrong. If society won’t accept her, it’s not her fault. It’s mine. A stodgy, boring sort of nobleman might fall in love with a commoner, and society would give her the benefit of the doubt. An even chance to prove herself, at least. But with my sordid history, people will always assume she’s just a debauched duke’s latest, greatest scandal. She deserves better than that. I want better for her.”

“It’s not too late,” his mother said. “Let her come here. Not just for a week, but months. You can take your place in Lords, and we’ll introduce her to society slowly next year. You’ll see, people will eventually—”

“No. No, that’s just it. She doesn’t want this life, and I don’t blame her. I don’t even want it, but I know it’s my duty now.” He sighed. “There may never be a ninth Duke of Halford, but I want the eighth to be remembered well. For my daughter’s sake.”

“And what about Pauline?”

Pauline, Pauline, Pauline. She’d been gone from his life a matter of hours, and he already missed her so acutely. He would spend his life digging out from landslides.

“I just want all her dreams to come true.”

Had the cottage always been this small?

Pauline stood in the lane, just staring. Uncertain how to approach her own home. Major the guard goose came honking toward her, alerting those within the house.

“Pauline?” Her mother’s face appeared in the window. “Pauline, is that you?”

She dashed a tear from her eye. “Yes, Mum. It’s me. I’m home.”

Later, up in the sleeping loft, Pauline and Daniela hugged and cried. Then they brushed and plaited one another’s hair and laid out their Sunday dresses for the next morning.

As always, Griff’s sovereign went straight in the collection box.

During the church service, Pauline could feel all the curiosity of Spindle Cove focused on her. She knew she’d have to answer a great many questions, but she just wasn’t ready yet.

And even though she managed to delay her first trip to the All Things shop for another several days, she still wasn’t prepared to answer them.

Sally Bright pounced on her the moment she walked through the door. Aside from being her oldest and dearest friend, Sally was the most inquisitive, gossipy person in Spindle Cove. Pauline knew the curiosity must be gnawing at her friend with a hundred teeth.

“You”—she lifted and waved a stack of newspapers—“have so much explaining to do! Did you really attend a ball? Make a duke fall madly in love with you?”

“Sally, I don’t wish to speak of it yet. I just can’t. It’s all too . . .” Her voice broke.

Sally didn’t press for more. She hurried out from behind the counter and wrapped Pauline in a tight hug. “There there. We’ll have years to talk it over, won’t we?”

Pauline nodded. “Sadly, I think we will.”

She’d been harboring the absurd hope that Griff would come chasing after her, perhaps show up at the farm cottage some morning, unshaven and smelling of cologne. But as the days passed, her hope seemed more and more like a fanciful dream. That wasn’t the fairy tale he’d promised her.

“I have some news that will cheer you,” Sally said.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“It’s nasty old Mrs. Whittlecombe. She’s moving to Dorset to live with her nephew.”

“Truly? That is good news, I suppose. For everyone but the nephew. I thought she’d never leave that tumbledown old place.”

Sally shrugged. “Well, she did. And cleared out of the neighborhood quickly, too. Now I’m stuck with a half-dozen bottles of her noxious ‘health tonic.’ I don’t suppose anyone else is going to want it.” Her eyebrows lifted. “And there’s something else. Something for you.”