Chapter Nineteen
Graham
Graham helped Diana to the settee in the drawing room, arranging cushions behind her back despite her protests that she was perfectly capable of sitting on her own. The bruise on her shoulder might be fading, but the memory of finding her unconscious in the park still haunted him.
“Graham, truly, I’m well,” Diana said, though her smile indicated she didn’t actually mind being fussed over.
“Humor me,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple before straightening. “Mother, would you like more tea?”
Augusta looked up from her embroidery. “Yes, dear. But let me tend to that so you can continue to hover over your wife.”
Diana released a stream of giggles. “He’s a mess.”
“Can you blame me?” Graham settled on the settee beside Diana as his mother prepared them each a cup of tea.
“I find it rather endearing,” Diana said, accepting the cup Augusta offered. “Though I draw the line at being carried everywhere like an invalid.”
Before he could respond, Mitchell appeared in the doorway. “Lady Harrowby has arrived for tea, my lady.”
Diana straightened in her seat. “Oh wonderful! I invited her yesterday. Well, she practically invited herself, but we have hardly been making social appearances since we married. It will be good for the gossips to know all is well in our marriage.” She glanced at Augusta.
“You’ll adore her. She’s rather formidable and has the entire ton by the ear. ”
Graham noticed his mother had gone very still, and her embroidery fell across her lap. The color had drained from her face entirely. “Mother? Are you well?”
Augusta set down her needlework, her fingers trembling visibly. “I… forgive me. I’m quite well.”
Lady Harrowby swept into the room in her characteristic fashion, adorned in deep purple with her signature elaborate turban. “My dear Diana, how wonderful to see you up and about. I’ve been worried sick since I heard—”
She stopped mid-sentence, her sharp gaze landing on Augusta. Augusta’s teacup rattled against its saucer as she set it down with unsteady hands.
For a long moment, neither woman spoke. Then Augusta’s voice came out as barely a whisper. “Hello, Mama.”
Graham’s own cup clattered to the floor, spilling all over the carpets. “Mama?” He looked between the two women, his mind struggling to make sense of what he’d heard. “Lady Harrowby is your mother?”
Diana gasped softly beside him, her hand finding his.
Lady Harrowby stood frozen in the doorway, her usual commanding presence wavering. Tears gathered in her eyes, though she fought to maintain her composure. “Augusta.” Her voice broke slightly on the name. “My daughter. You look… you look well.”
“I am well.” Augusta rose slowly, as if any sudden movement might shatter the moment. “I have been well for many years.”
Graham found his voice, though it came out harder than he intended. “Someone needs to explain what’s happening. Now.” His commanding tone cut through the emotion in the room. “Lady Harrowby, you’re telling me you’re my grandmother?”
“Yes.” Lady Harrowby’s gaze never left her daughter, though her hands shook as she removed her gloves.
“Though I only learned of your existence after you inherited. I didn’t know where my daughter was, but a man I knew who oversees the transfer of titles saw my daughter’s name for your parentage.
Even your mother’s friends here in town would never tell me a thing about what had become of her.
Almost thirty years, Augusta, without so much as a word. ”
Augusta’s chin lifted, and Graham glanced between the pair, uncertain to make of what he was hearing.
“I had to leave.”
“Because of love? All that you said in your letter was that you were going to marry another. That you chose him over the Duke of Yorkshire.” Lady Harrowby moved closer, raising her voice, though remaining even.
“But I never understood why. There were whispers of you being alone with some man, but your father and I could have managed the scandal.”
Graham sat down heavily, his mind reeling. His mother had been intended for a duke? She had run away from her family and ended up with his father. None of this made any sense. “The Duke of Yorkshire, Mama?”
Augusta let out a bitter laugh, though tears had begun to flow. “Is that what you thought all these years? That I chose Graham’s father out of some romantic notion?” She pressed a hand to her chest, as if she were gathering courage. “Oh, Mama. You never knew the truth.”
Diana squeezed Graham’s hand, grounding him as everything he’d believed about his family began to shift.
“Then tell me,” Lady Harrowby demanded, though her careful composure was beginning to crack. “Tell me why you threw away your future, and why you ran from your family. Why did you let me wonder what had happened to you all of these years?”
Augusta’s hands twisted in her lap. She stared at them for a long moment before speaking. “The Duke of Yorkshire…” She paused as tears welled in her eyes. “That night at the Pembridge ball, he cornered me in the library. He’d been drinking heavily. He said things… did things…”
Every part of Graham’s body tensed. Beside him, Diana made a soft sound of distress.
“I refused him and he became enraged. The duke tore at my bodice, and pressed against the bookshelf. He tried to…” Augusta couldn’t finish the sentence, her voice catching.
“I managed to break free from him, and I ran. I ran as fast as I could through the garden and then out into the street. Charles—Graham’s father—was on horseback and saw me there. He…”
Lady Harrowby’s expression had shifted to one of horror, and her eyes had become watery. “And he saved you?”
“He stopped to help me, and I couldn’t speak. I just cried in his arms. But my dress was torn, and he surmised what must have occurred.” Augusta’s tears flowed freely now. “But someone saw us, when Charles was comforting me. They called me a lightskirt and ran back into the ball.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lady Harrowby’s voice was anguished. “I could have—”
“Could have what?” Augusta’s voice grew stronger, anger mixing with her pain.
“Forced me to marry my attacker? You were so set on the match, so proud that a duke wanted me. You kept saying we could smooth over the scandal, that the duke would still have me despite the gossip. I couldn’t bear to tell you what he’d truly done. I was so ashamed.”
Graham sat in stunned silence, watching his entire understanding of his father reshape itself. The man he’d thought was a callous seducer had actually been a hero. His parents’ marriage hadn’t been born of lust and scandal, but of protection and desperate necessity.
“So Father married you to save your reputation,” Graham said slowly and hoarsely.
Augusta nodded, wiping her eyes with a trembling hand.
“He was honorable. He knew I’d be ruined otherwise, that no decent man would have me after such gossip.
But we never loved each other, not in that way.
We were grateful to each other, respectful, but we remained strangers bound by circumstance.
When he began seeking comfort elsewhere…
” She shrugged helplessly. “I couldn’t blame him entirely.
We were both trapped in a marriage neither of us had chosen. ”
“But he saved you,” Diana said softly. “Whatever came after, in that moment, he saved you.”
“Yes.” Augusta looked at Graham, her eyes pleading for understanding. “Your father wasn’t the villain you believed him to be, my son. He was flawed, yes. The marriage was unhappy, yes. But he wasn’t evil. And he gave me you. He did his best in an impossible situation.”
The emotion threatened to overtake him. All these years of hating his father’s behavior, of fearing he’d inherit some inescapable corruption from the man, and he was able to see the man much differently.
Lady Harrowby finally closed the distance to her daughter, her movements uncertain. “May I?”
Augusta nodded, and Lady Harrowby pulled her into her arms. “My dear, brave girl. My foolish, courageous daughter. If I had known… If that monster Yorkshire weren’t already dead, I would promise that I would kill him myself.”
Augusta clung to her mother, sobbing harder than he’d ever seen. “I’m sorry, Mama. I’m so sorry I stayed away.”
“No.” Lady Harrowby pulled back, cupping her daughter’s face with both hands. “I’m sorry. I should have suspected that something was amiss. Should have protected you better. Should have known you wouldn’t throw everything away without reason. I failed you.”
Graham stood frozen, watching his mother and grandmother embrace. Everything he had believed about his family, about himself, had been turned upside down. He wasn’t entirely different from his father in some ways. They were both fierce protectors, and ended up in marriages based on circumstances.
“Graham.” Diana’s gentle voice drew his attention. She was looking up at him with understanding and love. “Are you all right?”
Was he? His father was still flawed, and had still hurt his mother with his infidelities.
But now Graham understood it differently.
Two people trapped in a marriage built on gratitude and obligation rather than love, both suffering in their own ways.
That could have been the story for him and Diana if things hadn’t have worked out much differently.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough.
Diana stood, wavering slightly, and he immediately steadied her. “Your father saved your mother,” she whispered where only he could hear. “Whatever came after, in that moment, he chose to protect her at great personal cost. That matters.”
She was right. It did matter. It changed everything Graham had believed about himself, about the legacy he carried.
“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Graham murmured, thinking of their own marriage born from scandal. “History repeats itself.”
“No.” Diana’s voice was firm. “We’re writing our own story. We found love despite the circumstances. That’s what makes us different.”
Lady Harrowby approached them, Augusta at her side, both women’s faces still streaked with tears. “Graham,” his grandmother said, and the word held such weight. “My grandson. I’ve wanted to acknowledge you since the moment I realized who you were.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I thought Augusta had… well, I thought you knew and chose not to acknowledge me as your family.”
Graham looked at his mother. “You never told me who your parents were. I assumed they were dead.”
“I was wrong for that,” Augusta said, cupping his cheek. “The girl I was—Lady Augusta Harrowby—she ceased to exist the night I fled with your father. I became someone else. Someone smaller, quieter. Someone hidden from the world.”
“No more hiding,” Lady Harrowby declared. “No more separation. We’re family, all of us.”
“There’s more,” Augusta said, looking at her son with hesitation. “About your father. Things you should know, if you’re ready to hear them.”
Graham tensed, but nodded. He wasn’t certain he could stomach any more revelations at present. “Tell me.”
“He tried to love me. In the beginning, he truly tried. But I couldn’t…
” She paused for a moment and then released a long sigh.
“After what the duke had attempted, I couldn’t bear to be touched.
Not for a long time. By the time I could, too much distance had grown between us. We were strangers sharing a house.”
“The other women…”
“Started after you were born. He had you as his heir to the business. After that, we lived separate lives under the same roof. It wasn’t what either of us wanted, but it was what we could manage.
” Augusta held his chin as she looked up into his eyes.
“But you, my dear boy. You were the one good thing to come from it all. He loved you. Never doubt that.”
Graham thought of his own marriage, of how differently things had gone despite the similar beginning. He and Diana had chosen each other every day since their wedding, and had built something real from an impossible situation.
“I wish you had told me sooner.”
“I probably should have, and for that I hope you can forgive me. I thought I was protecting you from the burden of knowing who I truly was. I never thought you’d end up with a title and thrust into society.
But seeing the happiness you have found with Diana, I can see that this is where you were always meant to be. ”
Diana stepped beside him and he put his arm around her, needing to hold her close.
Lady Harrowby cleared her throat, and clapped her hands together. “I think we are in need of a fresh pot of tea after this reunion.” She wiped the tears away from her cheeks. “And then, Augusta, you’re coming home with me. We have much to catch up on.”
“Mama, I couldn’t—”
“Nonsense. Graham has his wife to look after. You’ll stay with me for a few days at least.” Lady Harrowby’s tone brooked no argument. “I’m not letting you out of my sight so quickly after finally finding you again.”
Graham saw the yearning in his mother’s eyes. “Go,” he urged. “Diana and I will be fine. You should have this time with her.”
Augusta hugged him tightly. “You’ve inherited the best of your father’s traits. I hope you can come to see that.”
As Graham watched his mother and grandmother settle together on the settee with their hands clasped. The anger he’d carried toward his father didn’t disappear entirely, but it transformed into something more complex. It was more like understanding, perhaps even pity.
And for the first time in his life, Graham didn’t feel the weight of his father’s perceived failures pressing down on him. He was free to be the man, the husband, the son, and grandson, and, he hoped, one day the father he chose to be.
Diana leaned into him, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I love you,” he whispered to his wife. “And my love is forever.”
Diana’s smile was radiant. “I love you too, my unexpected earl. I’m thankful we were both wandering in the garden that night.”
As Mitchell brought in a fresh cart for their refreshment, conversation between Augusta and his grandmother shifted to stories and reminiscing. Graham held his wife and marveled at how truth could change everything.
His father hadn’t been a villain. His mother hadn’t been weak. They’d simply been two people caught in an impossible situation who’d done their best with what they had.
He and Diana would do better. They already were.