Chapter 10
Both of Sunny’s shoulders ached something fierce the next morning.
Not too surprising, for one had been dislocated in a carriage accident and then both had been stuck between stone walls.
He pulled the pillow over his face to keep out the light.
He’d hoped to show a man’s loyalty by the story of Odysseus, but instead, Mantheria has unfortunately seen it as a story where the man went on adventures and the woman stayed home.
He was now mightily glad that he hadn’t mentioned Odysseus being Calypso’s lover for more than seven years while trapped on her island.
Nor the sorceress Circe’s desire to keep him forever.
Mantheria was not the type to stay at home and embroider like Penelope either.
He could already hear her moving about in their shared private parlor.
If he didn’t get a move on it, she might leave him behind again.
And despite being as imperfect as Odysseus, he was not ready for their odyssey to end just yet.
Perhaps he could still prove to Mantheria that he could be a good husband to her and stepfather to Andrew.
Rolling out of bed, his shoulders in protest, Sunny shucked off the overly large shirt that he’d worn to bed and was delighted to find his clothes from the day before washed, pressed, and ready to wear.
He would need to leave Mr. Edwards a generous tip when he settled his bill.
Used to dressing himself, Sunny quickly washed his face in the basin and performed his daily ablutions before putting on his fresh clothing and newly polished boots.
When he opened the door to the private parlor, he saw Mantheria sitting at the table in the center partaking of her breakfast. Her plate was half empty, and if he wanted to eat, he’d better hurry up.
He took a seat beside her and saw that her color was rather better today.
Her face was not so pale and wan. Her hair was simply arranged like it had been the night before.
But Mantheria was so beautiful that she didn’t need a fancy hairstyle to highlight her perfectly oval face and lovely bright blue eyes.
The only thing that marred her face was the dark circles underneath her eyes. She clearly hadn’t slept well.
“Mr. Edwards has already sent runners to the other posting inns. If Andrew goes there, we should be alerted, and my son will be held until we arrive.”
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Sunny nodded. “Not a moment wasted. How wise of you.”
He sat down at the table and saw that despite her calm voice, Mantheria’s hands were shaking.
He wondered how often in the past he’d assumed that she was fine, when she clearly wasn’t, because she appeared to be in control.
Taking her closest hand, he held it lightly in his own.
“Andrew’s a resourceful young lad—perhaps too resourceful, or we might have found him already. ”
The corners of her lips twitched. “It’s my sisters’ influence on him.”
He squeezed her fingers tighter and then released them. “Nonsense. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Mantheria. You were the person who pulled those three hellions out of dozens of scrapes.”
Sunny had hoped his words would make her smile, or at least no longer shake, but she swallowed and blinked as if she was about to cry.
He’d never before dealt with a sobbing woman, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.
As a duke, he’d left such problems with subordinates.
He avoided unpleasant scenes and anything that required an emotional connection.
Perhaps he’d learned such from his mother.
When he was a child, if he did anything but stand still, she’d have his nurse, or his governess, or a footman escort him away from her.
Sunny hadn’t realized until now that he was the same.
But he didn’t want to be.
Squeezing her hand once more before letting go, Sunny said, “I’ll eat quickly, and we can go and walk around the Pump Room and Bath Abbey area. . . . I know that I don’t need another meal, since my great bulk got me stuck last night. But I am awfully fond of food.”
The tips of her ears turned pink. “I am so very sorry that I teased you about your size, Sunny. You are perfect the way that you are. I was merely trying to lighten the mood.”
“And me,” he said with a wink. Sunny felt the overwhelming need to flex his muscles for her. Happily, he chose instead to devour a scone.
Mantheria toyed with her eggs, but he didn’t actually see her take a bite.
Sunny stopped chewing. “You used to be awfully fond of food, too.”
Sighing, she set down her utensil. “Add that to my ledger of mistakes. When I was expecting Andrew, I put on a great deal of extra flesh. It was also at that time that my husband was more openly seeing Lady Dutton. I had known for months that they had renewed their relationship. But so many of Society’s matrons took the time to whisper in my ear that if I wanted to keep my husband from straying, I would need to take better care of myself.
They told me during morning calls, afternoon promenades, and evening balls. ”
He swallowed his food too early and coughed. Beating his chest with his hand, he said, “Vicious tabbies.”
She shook her head, her eyes downcast. “Food became tasteless for me. Before then, it had been the only joy in my marriage. I suppose I had eaten my sadness, and it was a bottomless pit of hunger. But even when those ladies weren’t in the room, their words still rang in my ears.
Food no longer brought me happiness, and I was able to slim down to almost the same size that I was before Andrew was born. ”
“I had no idea,” Sunny admitted. “I am afraid during that first year of your marriage, I was at Cambridge with my head so far down a bottle of gin that I couldn’t see straight. I was filled with regret.”
“And spirits.”
His lips twitched. “Precisely.”
“I have made a terrible mistake, Sunny,” Mantheria whispered.
His breath caught, and he hoped that she was about to tell him that she was willing to muddle through marriage again—with him. Once they located Andrew, the three of them could go straight to Gretna Green and consign London Society’s matrons to the devil.
“With Becca.”
Sunny exhaled. That was not at all what he’d been thinking or hoping for. He met her eyes and nodded his head slightly for her to continue.
Mantheria’s cheeks were now also pink. “I was so desperate to save my sisters from the cruel voices of Society, and instead, I became that voice for Becca. I encouraged her to slim down to Society’s impossible standards for a debutante.
Despite her obvious attachment to the Earl of Norwich, I begged her not to trust her own instincts.
. . . I didn’t want her to feel the despair that has been my closest companion since Elizabeth’s death.
Norwich is too much like Glastonbury—they are the sort of handsome that makes your insides feel sticky, and I didn’t want her to make the same mistakes that I did. ”
With another overly large swallow, Sunny came to the uncomfortable conclusion that he was not the sort of handsome that makes your insides feel sticky.
It didn’t surprise him. Even without his crooked nose, his appearance was pleasing, but he’d never been considered handsome.
He was neither extremely tall nor broad-shouldered.
He was disappointingly regular, and if he hadn’t been a duke, no one would have paid attention to him at all.
She must have guessed some of his thoughts, for her neck turned pink. “You’re a comfortable sort of handsome that will wear well over time.”
“And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” Sunny meant those words, and they were not merely flattery.
It was rare that a woman of twenty-nine was more beautiful than she had been at seventeen, but such was the case with Mantheria.
Time had softened her sharp angles into soft curves.
Her thin, young, coltish figure had become a womanly one, which he infinitely preferred.
Sunny did not want a child bride. The seventeen-year-old debutantes were a part of the infantry as far as he was concerned.
“Beauty fades, but sometimes it is all that people see,” Mantheria said, picking her fork and moving the eggs around her plate again.
“Becca says that she has forgiven me, but I am not certain that I can ever forgive myself. When I told you the last thing that Elizabeth said to me, I omitted the final words: Be good and take care of our little sisters. Sometimes I am glad that she is not here to see what a mess I have made of things.”
Sunny, too, had lost his appetite. He’d said entirely the wrong thing.
Mantheria didn’t care about her appearance.
She cared about her son—her sisters—her family.
“I think the little girls have turned out extremely well, myself. I did have my worries over Helen, I have to admit. I wasn’t sure that there was a man out there who would understand her unique qualities, but it seems like the Earl of Inverness is perfect for her.
They both appear to be very happy and excited about the new addition to their family.
I only wish that your little sister would be less forthcoming about the changes to her person. ”
Mantheria covered her face with her hands. “Has Helen told you the updated measurements of her stomach and breasts?”
A smile tugged at his lips. “Weekly during the Season. It has certainly been an education in maternity.”
Mantheria snorted and then she laughed, shaking her head and dropping her hands.
“Helen also assured me that it was very important information and had not been previously given enough study by naturalists. She also tried to give me a list of her symptoms, but she complained that I was too squeamish to truly appreciate it. Or to help her study said symptoms.”