Chapter 20
Sunny arrived at Sunderland House to discover that it was just as dreary and dismal as he’d remembered it.
His mother greeted him, covered in black from head to toe and wearing a black veil like a ghost. “You’ve finally come to your senses about the Duchess of Glastonbury, have you? She was never going to say yes.”
He had not come to his senses about Mantheria, and he doubted that he ever would.
Sunny loved her and was determined to show her that he could change and not run from difficult or unpleasant things.
She didn’t need him to shoot an arrow through the loopholes of twelve axes, but she did need to know that he could be a responsible landlord and master. And hopefully one day a good husband.
“Mother, I am ready to make some changes to the house and the estate. And I would like you to move to the dower house.”
She brought a black handkerchief to her face, which was still covered by the veil, so it was impossible to be useful. “You would take my home from me, even before you have wed? Have you no heart, my son?”
He felt both his temperature and his hackles rise. “I may be your son, Mother, but you have never shown me any affection. If I have no heart, you are the person to blame.”
“I am a widow, mourning my late husband. I deserve your consideration.”
“And you’ve had my consideration and kindness for over thirty years, Mother,” Sunny said as gently as he could.
“But I can no longer live like this—with the windows draped in black, the clocks stopped, the furniture under holland covers. This is my home, and I mean to make it one. And if you would like to spend the rest of your life mourning my father, you can do so at the dower house. Our tenants quit it two months ago, and my steward assures me that it is in excellent condition for you.” He waved his hands around.
“And you are welcome to take any trinkets or furniture with you.”
He extended one hand toward his mother. He didn’t want there to be bad feelings between them, but neither would he allow her to use her grief like a sword, demanding his submission to it.
His mother stepped back, refusing to touch him. “Thrown from my own home. You are an unfeeling and unnatural son.”
Sighing, Sunny’s mother still only cared about her own grief. “I am sorry that you feel that way, Mother. But I am done with darkness. It is time that our house was filled with light.”
Then Sunny did something that he’d been longing to do since he was a child of six, when he’d realized that other houses were not like his.
He walked over to the closest window and tugged down the black curtain.
Dust bunnies floated in the air as sunshine finally shone through the glass pane of the window.
It was like seeing his home for the first time.
His mother shrunk from the light as if she was some nightly creature that was harmed by it. She held up her arms as if to block the brightness out as she repeated, “Unfeeling, unnatural son.”
Sunny had heard this refrain since the age of three, and it no longer had any power over him.
He turned to see the butler coming toward them.
“Ah, Simmons. It’s good to see you. Will you please escort my mother to the dower house and have her lady’s maid pack her things?
And please inform the housekeeper that I want any and all black material removed from the premises as soon as possible. ”
Simmons bowed. “Of course, Your Grace. The master rooms are ready for you, as they have been for many years.”
His entire life, he’d not claimed his rightful place, for his mother had stayed in the mistress’s rooms, and it would have been odd and extremely uncomfortable if he’d tried to take the master’s.
But Mantheria was right. He’d avoided uncomfortable things for too long.
“Very good, Simmons. I shall go and freshen up before meeting with my steward and tenants. I have got a lot of work to do.”