Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Hudson jumped from his horse before it had a chance to stop. A natural athlete, and an excellent rider, there was no chance that he would hurt himself, and where he would not usually act in such an aggressive manner, his mood was such that he could hardly sit still.
Waiting outside the manor for him was one of the stable hands, and Hudson tossed the reins for him to catch as he strode down the drive and then up the steps.
If he had been the type to do so, he might have danced up them.
Why, if he had been the type to do so, he might have sung!
Rarely did a mood like this strike Hudson with such intensity and he was positively beside himself with glee.
Could this day get any better? Unlikely, for it has peaked in ways that seemed impossible just a week ago! Perhaps if I was to spring wings so I might fly? With the way things are going, I would not be surprised!
Hudson had just come from a meeting with Mr. Andrews, a broker who he had been forced to fire just one week before on account of his inability to close deals which he had promised he had the power to make.
He had since been re-hired and was making up for lost time with a sense of verve that defied belief.
That deal which Hudson had been denied last week—the one concerning the land he wished to purchase—had since been rectified, and offered to Hudson at the original price.
What was more, Mr. Andrews was already in the process of sourcing him two more farms, both of which were bigger than the land he’d just bought, and both of which had owners champing at the bit to do business with him.
I should have married years ago! If I had known the effect that it would have!
And he wasn’t even married yet! All it had taken was an engagement. All that was needed was for word to spread that Hudson was a good bet, a normal sort, the type of man one would want to do business with. His plan was working perfectly, even better than he had hoped. Hence the good mood.
A rare smile on his face, Hudson threw open the doors to his manor, certain the day could not get any better. A prediction which was not only correct, but tragically prophetic.
As soon as Hudson stepped inside, he saw who was waiting for him in the foyer, and that good mood which had been carrying him faded in an instant, replaced by a morose cloud of impending doom.
“There he is! I was beginning to worry!”
Hudson came to a sudden stop, not even bothering to hide his annoyance at this most unexpected guest. “Stepmother,” he said. “What a...” His smile was an insincere as one could be. “A pleasant surprise.”
She waved him down. “No need to placate me with words of kindness, Hudson—”
“Your Grace,” he corrected her sternly.
His stepmother smirked. “Your Grace,” she corrected, albeit with clear sarcasm, because she could never fully commit to the respect she was supposed to show him. “As I was saying, there is no need to pretend that you are excited to see me. I think we are both past that point by now.”
“Oh good, that will save me the strain.”
“Although I do wish that you would return my letters with some manner of promptness. If you did, it would save me having to pop in like this unannounced. Why, I would almost think that you didn’t want to see me at all.”
“Perhaps a letter next time, specifying as such? But that would require me to write to you.”
She tittered as if he had made a joke. “Honestly, dear. I thought you were a businessman. That’s what everyone says of you. Yet you cannot read a room to save your life. I cannot help but wonder how you managed to get this far, truth be told.”
To that, Hudson curled his lip, deciding that he was not in the mood to be pulled into one of his and his stepmother’s famously icy exchanges.
In his experience, it was best to just agree with her, promise whatever she asked for, and then do what he could to scrub the memory of their meeting from his mind the second she was out of sight.
Hudson and his stepmother, the Dowager Duchess of Worthington, had a strained relationship.
Although perhaps outrightly hostile was a better way of describing it?
At forty-seven years of age, she had been only seven years older than Hudson when she’d married his father, and only a few months after his mother had passed for good measure.
It meant that he’d never warmed to the woman like Elias had, sensing from the beginning that she was not one to be trusted.
To be fair, she wasn’t nearly as bad as he had first assumed.
But her relationship with his father had been tense from the beginning, certainly with no love involved, a marriage of convenience only.
.. which might not have bothered Hudson, if not for the fact that the convenience was at his stepmother’s discretion.
It had been a way to weasel herself into a title that was above her, a strain now on his family that he could not remove no matter how much he wished to.
“What is it that you wish for, Caroline?” Hudson sighed. “I would love to bicker with you today. Truly, nothing would give me more pleasure. But I am quite busy, and I really would prefer that you send word ahead before you visit me like this.”
She scoffed. “Again, we come to the reality that is you ignoring me letters. Just once, if you would write to me, I might not have to.”
“I have been busy.”
“Yes, you have.” She cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Or so people are saying—not that I believe everything I hear, mind you. For example, when my good friend, Lady Chester told me that she had heard my own stepson had become engaged just three days past, I was certain that she was being led by the nose for reasons I could only guess at.” She crossed her arms, her eyebrow raising higher on her forehead.
“And I told her rightly that where you and I do not always see eye to eye, that even you would not do such a thing without first consulting me. Not His Grace, the Duke of Worthington.”
Hudson frowned, caught by surprise by this most strange reaction.
Why on earth would she think that he would waste time seeking advice from her about matters which, to be perfectly honest, had nothing to do with her?
And why on earth would she think it a good idea to come to his home and confront him about it? Had she lost her mind?
“Your friend speaks the truth,” he said simply, choosing to cut right to the meat of it. “I am indeed engaged. For once, it seems that gossip was…”
“I know she speaks the truth!” Caroline snapped. “That was not at all the point I was trying to make.”
Hudson bristled at the interruption. And the tone. “Believe me, stepmother, I am aware of the point you are making. What I am not aware of is why you are making it.”
He made sure to be looking right at her, any trace of humor or feigned niceties gone. “Who I choose to wed, when I choose to do it, and how I choose to come to these decisions is not your concern.”
“You may think so, but I disagree,” she argued. “At the very least, it would have been nice to have been told. Even...” She clicked her tongue. “Even advised on the matter—and yes, yes, I am aware that you and I do not have a relationship that warrants such a thing,” she hurried to confirm.
“Are you?” he said dryly. “This ambush would suggest otherwise.”
“This is not some business venture,” she pressed, her tone softening slightly, almost imploring.
“This is not even a personal matter, Hudson. Like it or not, I am a part of this family, and it is only right that I be kept in the loop on matters pertaining to the familial. When Elias wished to ask his lovely wife for her hand, he came to me first and—”
“I am not Elias.”
She scoffed. “A point you seem intent on reminding me of as much as you possibly can.”
Hudson glared ruefully at his stepmother.
He had never meant for their relationship to devolve like this.
But circumstances had led them down this path, and as stubborn as he was, she was even worse.
They were two bulls with their horns locked, neither willing to give an inch because that would show weakness.
“We are done here.” Hudson stormed past where she stood.
“I have been married before,” she called after him.
“Remember that Hudson. I know you think me useless, but entering a marriage is not as simple a matter as you seem to think! That was why Elias came to me, as much as anything. And that is why I am here. I want to help. That is all I have ever wished.”
Hudson reached the first landing of the stairwell, one hand on the banister, one foot raised before pausing on his stepmother’s plea. For a moment, it almost sounded like... not an apology, but a kindly offer that had anyone else been making it, he quite possibly would have considered accepting.
This was not anyone else.
Hudson thought back to Caroline’s marriage to his father.
The constant fighting. The ill-given advice she lent him, which in turn led to the loss of a small fortune, which in turn led to more fighting.
The pregnancy which his father claimed could not have been his.
The still-birth that followed. More fighting.
More hostility. And then, naturally, the death of his father, which Hudson truly believed in his bones would not have happened the way it had, had he not gotten married in the first place.
She wanted to help? She wanted to give him advice? I would be better off asking Satan for advice. At least his motives are honest.
“Do you really wish to help?” Hudson asked, turning back to look down at his stepmother.
“Yes!” she said. “Have you not been listening?”
“If you do wish to help, there is one thing I ask of you.” He locked eyes with her, a fiery gaze which had her leaning back as if from fear. “Keep your nose out of my marriage. Understood?”
Her lip curled. “Do not be ridiculous—”
“Out of my marriage!” he barked at her. “I am going upstairs to undress and bathe. When I return, I really do suggest you not be here. One of these days, I might say it was nice to see you, stepmother. Sadly, today is not that day. Good day.” And with that, he turned and stormed up the steps, leaving his stepmother in his wake.
To those who did not know of Hudson and his stepmother’s cantankerous relationship, that interaction might have seemed somewhat harsh and unnecessary. Sadly, it was standard fare, both as guilty as the other, neither willing nor wanting to do anything about it.
All he could hope was that his marriage to Miss Parsons turned out better than his father’s had to that wretched woman.
But perhaps that would be setting the bar too low?