Page 85 of In Service to the Duke

It also explains why she asked about love the way she did. Bloody hell, but I was blind. My cautiousness, though normally a good thing, proved to be wrong in this case. At least, that’s what I’m hoping based on my mother’s reactions.

“The suppressants? How could she have gone into heat if she took them as she claimed?”

“I’m sure you spoke with the butler?”

“Of course,. He’s the first person I went to.”

“Then you have your answer.”

“No. Not really. Just because she swallowed them doesn’t mean she didn’t purchase fake ones to force her heat to come.” But even as I say that, my heart knows it can’t be true.

She seemed shocked, caught unawares. If she had planned this, then there shouldn’t have been any surprise. But then, it could be the heat itself which shocked her. I don’t doubt it was her first time.

“I too spoke with the butler. The suppressants were delivered. Miss Gillet had no hand in it.”

“Her mother,” we both say at the same time.

“I bet that conniving wench sent her fake suppressants when she never heard back from Emma,” I growl.

“Honestly, it makes far better sense than a young governess trying to find fake pills in a town she doesn’t know.”

Anger burns hot in my gut, blurring my vision. “Her mother,” I snarl, ready to tear the woman limb from limb.

“You let me deal with her mother,” she growls, her eyes looking nearly feral.

Concern lances through my heart as I urge her to sit. “With your health… I wouldn’t forgive myself if you overdid it.”

Another odd expression crosses her face, and this time, I am unable to discern it. If I didn’t know any better, I would think it was guilt. Scenting the air, however, I detect a faint trace of it, almost imperceptible.

“I can assure you, I will not perish from giving that woman a piece of my mind.”

“Mother?” Though I don’t infuse my tone with an Alpha’s command out of respect to her, I contemplate it.

“Well, you see. I’ve been much better for a bit.”

Shock rocks me to my core. How can she go from death’s door to better like this? Surely it can’t just be the fresh air. A niggle of suspicion worms its way up my spine.

“How long?”

“I mean, these things are hard to say,” she hedges.

“How. Long?” All irritation at Emma’s perceived falsehoods vanishes in light of this new bit of mutiny.

“Since a little while after arriving here at Whitmore Manor.”

My heart drops to my feet, and everything sways for a moment. Relief and anger war within me until I’m not sure what to think or feel. Numb. Numb is an apt descriptor. I step away from my mother, unable to fully process everything.

In my mind, she was weeks, months maybe, from the grave. Part of what made everything okay about this marriage in my mind was knowing she would see her only biological son wed before she passed on. Granted, it’s not the only thing making this marriage worthwhile, but I could tell myself it was for her benefit whenever I felt the urge to flee.

And now, it means nothing. Somehow, it means everything. I should be happy that my mother is going to live, but deep down, I’m hurt and angry for all the stress and anxiety I’ve gone through on her behalf.

“Son, please-”

“Why? Tell me you have a good reason for this.”

A light blush tinges her cheeks as she looks away. Again, my mind clicks about like the gears inside a timepiece, ticking away until things start to fit.

“The physician.” Now, his congenial smiles, his willingness to keep Emma and my secret, and his constant presence… it all makes sense.