Chapter 20
CHANCE ENCOUNTERS
If Marigold were to truly be asked, it took her some time to get used to her new room, the soft bedding, the expensive sheets, and the maid attending her.
But this morning, as she woke up early looking at the morning light streaming through her curtains, for the first time in her life, she realized that this was home.
It had less to do, of course, with the silk sheets or the soft sounds of Verdant House around her or even Duck snoring softly at the foot of her bed. It had more to do with him.
“How is my girl?” Marigold pet Duck, who had no intention of waking up just yet.
Beth knocked on the door and came in.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” the maid curtsied.
Marigold was especially giddy today. It was nothing special, but for her, it meant the world.
She was going to meet Lily, go out shopping, and share a sorbet.
Perhaps for other ladies of the ton, this was just a typical day of spending their husbands’ or fathers’ money, looking at bonnets, and walking around flaunting their gowns, but for Marigold, it was a milestone in her life.
There was someone out there who wanted to see her for no other reason than for the pleasure of her company. Marigold couldn’t believe that she had a real friend.
She dressed carefully, choosing a gown that both Beth and Mrs. Hodgins agreed made her look radiant. She pinned up her curls and looked at herself in the mirror. Marigold had never been vain. There was actually no money and no time for it. But somehow, she felt like she deserved as much.
She went down and entered the breakfast room where Brandon was already there reading the paper. Marigold suddenly felt a rush coming over her, waiting for him to look up. What Beth and Mrs. Hodgins said mattered little if Brandon didn’t find her positively radiant.
His eyes snapped up the moment she entered, and he looked at her slowly, taking his time, focusing on the few curls that escaped down her neck to the dip of her waist.
“You look lovely,” he said. “Is that all to have breakfast with me?”
“I am meeting Lily.” She couldn’t hide the smile.
“I’m not sure I should be delighted or truly worried,” Brandon chuckled.
“I’m so happy that I wouldn’t care either way.”
He shook his head and kept drinking his coffee. Marigold smiled even more and had her breakfast. This was going to be a good day, the beginning of a new life.
London seemed to agree: bright sun and clear skies, a slightly gentle breeze just enough to carry all the gentle scents of blossoms in the spring. She was quite used to walking around the streets of London in her shabby gowns and unchaperoned due to lack of staff.
And now, here she was walking alone again in her brilliant, beautiful gown, and unchaperoned because she was now a married woman. In fact, she was to be Lily’s chaperone, so they could have some privacy and talk together at their leisure.
She had a lightness in her step that she had never felt before, and she didn’t fail to notice that couples and ladies that she met on the way tended to incline their heads to her in a very polite manner, the same ones that shunned her not so long ago.
Marigold realized that there was another advantage of being the Duchess of Voss.
As she walked down the street, she passed the flower seller who was always on that corner of the street. In her past life, whenever she passed by, she noticed the beautiful bouquets, but back then, they were a frivolous expense. Right now, she did not care.
“The bouquet of daisies, please. Two of them.” She paid more than it was worth just to see the old woman smile kindly.
She turned onto a quieter street as she was heading to pick up Lily from her home, and that’s when she heard the voice.
“Marigold!”
Everything evaporated, the warmth that had soaked into her body, the joy that occupied her heart, even the sun seemed to darken. She knew that voice. Her mother.
“Marigold, there you are!”
She turned slowly and saw her mother emerging from a shop.
She was accompanied by some friends and smiled at her, but that smile did not reach her eyes.
She was dressed in a fine gown that Marigold had never seen before.
She was either using some of the funds for the house for her personal expenses again, or she was borrowing on account that her daughter was now a duchess.
“What a great coincidence meeting you here.” Claire detached herself from her company and came closer.
Marigold almost flinched as she saw her mother with arms outstretched, ready to grab her into a hug. And before she had any time to react, Claire embraced her, tight and yet devoid of any resemblance to affection.
“Look at my beautiful daughter, how the title of Duchess suits you,” Claire said for everybody to hear.
Marigold forced herself to smile, even if it was modest. People were watching, and she would not make a scene. That was exactly what Claire wanted.
“Good morning to you, Mother,” Marigold said, making sure nobody mistook her tone for warmth. “I will not keep you from your company anymore, and I have a rendezvous myself.”
Claire’s face distorted for one moment, but she kept her light tone.
“That is splendid that you’re spending time outside that house.”
Marigold realized one undeniable truth. Claire hadn’t visited her in her home for quite a while, and she knew exactly why.
Brandon was there. After Marigold had confided in him what happened the last time her mother visited, Brandon made sure he was at home most of the day.
Marigold thought it was because of the injuries, but now…
“I am meeting a friend, so I really have to hurry up. I would love to catch up with you some other time.” Marigold tried to detach herself from her mother.
But Claire was determined not to let go that easily. She looped her arm through Marigold’s and began to steer her away from the onlookers, pulling her along. Marigold was reluctant to create a scene, so she allowed herself to be pulled in that direction.
She was ready to give her mother a piece of her mind and disengage from this unpleasant situation when her mother leaned closer, and her voice dropped to a venomous whisper.
“I believe I had made a request very clear, Marigold,” she hissed. “And I have yet to receive an answer.”
“I fail to see how I have an answer to your demands from the last time we met.”
“All you did was give me some weak excuse about you not having real money. I gave you the benefit of the doubt because I always knew you were naive, but I think that even you would have managed to pull some funds from your husband.”
“You’re assuming I would lie to and manipulate my husband.”
“All women do. It is the only power left to us.”
“It would benefit you greatly if you stopped judging others by your measures. Just because that’s what you think, it’s not what other people do.”
“I am in no mood for philosophical and sociological discussions, Marigold. I need money.”
“You always need money.”
“Charlie arrives in a fortnight. I need it by then.”
Marigold felt her stomach clench. It was that familiar grief that took over her every time her mother saw her as nothing but a means to an end. Her housekeeper. Her accountant. Her collateral. But never her daughter.
Something inside her, part of who she was and how she grew up, fumbled to either find an excuse or catalog the things that she could sell without Brandon noticing, so she could give the money to her mother.
But then another thought came to her. How Lily stood by her side and called her interesting, bypassing all the gossip of the ton.
How Owen extended his friendship to her, clumsy and preposterous as it was.
And above all, how Brandon saw her: brave and intelligent and fearless.
Marigold decided that she would hate to disappoint them and disillusion her own husband of who she really was.
Marigold gently but firmly pulled her arm free from her mother’s grip. Claire sensed the shift in her disposition but would not relent that easily.
“I am afraid I cannot help you, Mother.”
“Listen to me, Marigold. I am your mother, and I will not allow you to scorn me and set me aside that easily. You will give me the money, or—”
“I believe I need to make myself clearer,” Marigold said in a calm tone. “There will be no money.”
Claire stared back at her as if she had been struck. The powerful mask that she always wore cracked just a little. But years of dominating over Marigold took over. She lifted her chin and her eyebrow, and her tone became even colder.
“Do you have any idea what I will do?”
“I sincerely do not care what you will do,” Marigold said. “I believe it would be something heartless and selfish. In fact, I would be quite surprised if you acted otherwise.”
“I will not stand by and allow my own daughter to disrespect me like this.”
“I am not disrespecting you. I am informing you. There will be no money.”
“So, you are sleeping peacefully knowing that you spend money on flowers and have left your mother destitute?”
“I am sleeping peacefully knowing that I spend my money the way I see fit, and I gave my mother the opportunity of a new beginning. What you do with that chance is all up to you.”
“You will find the money. I will not accept any excuse—”
“I am not offering an excuse.” Marigold straightened her back and looked square into her mother’s eyes. “In fact, even if I did have the money, which I may, even if the Duke would give me an infinite amount of funds, which he may have done, I would never give you any money.”
Claire’s face contorted into something ugly. Not externally, her mother was still a lovely woman to look at. But the malice on her face took away any smoothness from her features, making her look more like a banshee.
“How dare you?” Claire attacked once more, relentless in her desperation. “How dare you speak to me like this after all I have done for you?”
“Yes, I believe I have heard that argument before.” Marigold arranged her bouquet nicely and looked at her gloves, unfazed.
“And lately, I have been wondering what exactly you have done for me. Because I can make a list of the things that you have done to me. Spread rumors to save your own reputation that depict me as a cruel penny-pincher. You have humiliated and insulted me on every occasion. And last but not least, you have used me as collateral for a loan you used to buy new gowns.”
Claire’s mask completely cracked. But if Marigold were expecting to find shame or remorse under that cold exterior, she realized she had only unearthed something feral.
“I see,” Claire said. “You are under the illusion that the title you’re holding will protect you. But it only takes a whisper to make a great duke the laughingstock of the ton.”
“And you were under the illusion,” Marigold truly looked at her mother for the first time as the Duchess of Voss, “that your insignificant position trumps the reputation of the most powerful Duke in the Kingdom.”
“You will come to be sorry for rejecting me,” Claire threatened. “You can hide behind your husband as much as you want, but I will strike.”
“I am not hiding behind my husband. I am standing right next to him. See if you can strike me there without passing by him. You see, the title that you so arrogantly almost claimed as your own holds great significance. Whether you like it or not, I am the Duchess of Voss.”
Claire’s face went white, and her hands shook, both from anger and surprise.
Marigold, for a moment, feared that her mother would create a scene by striking her in the middle of the road, and she couldn’t decide whether that would be a good or a bad thing.
Yet miraculously, her mother found her composure.
“You have grown a spine, Marigold,” Claire said with a sharp, brittle sound that could have been laughter. “But spines can be broken.”
Marigold replied to the open threat with a wide smile. She softly patted her mother’s hand to say goodbye, still aware of people looking at them, and walked away. She held her poise and calm pace until she turned the corner.
That’s when she felt her heart pounding and her hands shaking. Her lower lip trembled as the rush of what she had done came over her. It was a taste of something that she had never felt before. Something suspiciously close to freedom.