Chapter 21

“How are you, Mother?” Adrian greeted her as he stepped into Nora’s room.

His mother looked up from her embroidery, smiling. Then it was as if she realized who she was looking at, and her smile faded into a frown as she returned to her embroidery.

“Oh. It is you,” she said flatly. “I thought for a moment you were Evander. Where is your brother? He has been gone far too long.”

Adrian took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He had put so much effort into finding Evander’s killer that he had not paid proper attention to how far his mother had slipped from reality. Seeing it now, though, he vowed then and there to do better.

“Mother, I have some devastating news,” Adrian began. He walked into the room, removed her embroidery from her lap, and took her hands in his.

She tsked her tongue at him and tried to pull them away, but he held them fast.

“What is it you speak of?” she demanded. “And why are you holding my hands like this?”

“Mother, please,” Adrian implored, tightening his hold on her hands. “I need you to hear me. Evander has passed away.”

As if she did not realize what she had just asked him a moment ago, Nora glared at him.

“You think I am not aware that my own eldest son is dead?” she asked. “Of course, I know! And you dishonor his memory by bringing that woman into my house! Her husband murdered your brother! Damien said so! You said so.”

“That woman is my wife and the Duchess of Redgrave,” Adrian replied with a note of authority. “And you will not speak of her in such a way. Furthermore, it was her late husband whom we believed to have a hand in Evander’s murder. We cannot know for sure until we finish the investigation.”

“Evander would never do something like this,” Nora said, shaking her head as if she had not heard a word he had just said. “If you had been murdered, he would have never married your murderer’s widow.”

Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to halt the anger-induced ache in his temples.

“I am tired, Mother,” he confessed. “I am tired of being driven by revenge and justice. I will keep looking, I swear it, but I want happiness as well, and Bridget is my happiness. She was hurt by her late husband just as Evander likely was, but she became a beautiful person in spite of it. She deserves your respect, more than you realize.”

When she did not answer, Adrian looked up. To his surprise, there was pity in his mother’s eyes.

“This Bridget,” she said slowly. “She was hurt by this Earl of Winslow as well?”

“Yes.” Adrian nodded, resolve settling into his chest. “And you are right, Mother. I am not Evander.” His voice remained steady, though something pained flickered beneath it.

“Nor can I live my life forever being measured against him. I loved my brother deeply, but I cannot exist in his shadow, no matter how much it hurts us both to accept that he is gone.”

Nora’s lips pressed tightly together, her gaze fixed on her hands.

“Evander would not have allowed an innocent woman to suffer,” Adrian continued more gently. “You know that to be true. But he also would not have wanted his memory to become a weight that crushes the rest of us beneath it.”

“You are right,” she whispered. “Perhaps that is the only way you two are alike.”

Nora sighed. Tears welled in her eyes as she held her hand out for Adrian. He looked at her curiously at first, as it was not her nature to coddle him. Still, he took her hand, and he took a seat on the arm of her chair.

“You must understand, Adrian,” she gently insisted. “How very awful this situation has been for me. I am a mother. A mother. We have connections with our children that you could never understand.”

She paused, taking a shaky breath, as if what she was about to say was painful for her.

“Mother, you do not—”

“Allow me to speak my piece, son,” she urged.

Adrian pressed his lips together and nodded.

“I would know,” Nora said, her voice cracking with emotion. “If I had lost a child, I would feel it in my body. Yet you tell me that my son is dead? That he is no longer here, even though his body was unrecognizable?”

Adrian’s heart broke for his mother as a new sort of understanding dawned on him.

“And furthermore,” Nora pushed on. “As you insist that my son is dead, you marry the woman whose late husband was the only true suspect that you have regarding Evander’s murder?”

“You are right,” she quickly added before Adrian could speak. “She should not be judged by her late husband’s actions, but surely you can understand how difficult accepting that would be?”

Suddenly, Adrian understood. His mother had not gone mad. She was simply deeply confused and hurt.

“I owe you an apology, Mother,” Adrian confessed. “I have been so focused on what you have missed since Evander’s death that I did not accept what I have missed while trying to avenge him.”

Nora patted his hand as she let out an exhausted sigh.

“Oh, my son, I fear we have both missed much,” she acknowledged. “And I must confess that my confusion most days has led me into the most selfish of actions. Please, tell me. What have I missed while trying to make sense of all of this chaos?”

So Adrian did. He told her of how Elara had missed her debut.

How she had grown much in the last year, even with his and Nora’s backs turned to her.

He told her about the mostly innocent mischief Elara got into with her cousin Caroline, but he kept quiet about how Elara snuck out at night to visit her.

“Oh, God above,” Nora said with an exhausted laugh as she shook her head. “I have indeed missed much.”

“We both have,” Adrian said gently. “But it is not too late to correct that.” He met her eyes. “I believe Evander would want us to focus on what remains, not on what we have lost.”

Nora reached up and patted Adrian’s cheek as she gave him a soft smile.

“You are right,” she said.

Adrian smirked, then leaned down to kiss the top of his mother’s head.

“Shall I fetch Elara for you?” he asked.

“Please,” Nora answered. “Now that my head is clear, there is much I wish to say to my daughter.”

Adrian gave a nod as he got up to leave.

“And Adrian?” Nora called.

“Yes?” Adrian asked, turning to her with an inquisitive look.

“Do ask your lovely wife to join me for tea tomorrow. I believe we have lots to discuss.”

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.