He Objects

14: Motherly Love

"Whatever happened out there!?" my mother hissed, snatching my arm the moment I walked back inside.

"Ow, mother, that hurts!" I exclaimed, trying in vain to free myself from her grip.

Instead, she all but dragged me into her personal sitting room, peeking around the corner before shutting the door. Only then did she finally release my arm, and I felt a rush of tingles and the blood flow was properly restored.

"What happened between the duke and the prince?" my mother repeated, chafing her hand against my prickling arm, the closest I would get to an apology. "They stormed into your father's study, stirring up quite a ruckus before the duke stormed out of here!" She shook her head. "I never did like that duke. "

I fought the urge to openly roll my eyes. Of course, now that the prince was a viable option, she thought there was no need to suck up to the duke anymore. However, I always thought her admiration of Felix and his massive estate to be genuine. Speaking against him so quickly—especially before any conclusion had been made regarding my future—was a little much, even for her.

"I hope the duke's behavior doesn't reflect badly upon us," my mother fretted, turning away to pace the parlor. "Surely he knows your father doesn't condone that kind of behavior. He—"

"Mother enough," I snapped, fed up with her antics. I slapped my hand on a nearby table, rattling the water pitcher and drinking glasses on top of it. "It's inappropriate for you to be speaking in this manner. Betrothed or not, Felix Kentworth is still the duke of Baltingshire. Blood related to the king, no less! It is not fair to either man for you to take sides in a matter we know little about and have even less control over."

My mother shut her mouth, seemingly staring into the middle distance in the vague direction of my hand on the table. "You're right, Charlotte," she finally said quietly. "Of course, you're right."

I blinked, stunned. If I had known that the first time I truly talked back to my mother would actually earn me a modicum of peace, I would have done it much sooner. "Thank you," I said faintly, relaxing a little.

My mother finally drew her eyes up to mine. "So, what did happen on your morning sojourn with the prince?" she asked carefully, her earlier demanding tone nowhere to be found. Now, she seemed mostly curious, if a little apprehensive.

"Nothing really," I said. "We rode around the marsh trails. Talked about nothing in particular." No way was I going to share that conversation with her.

"How was the weather?"

"Good," I said, growing almost bored with the new mundaneness of the conversation. "It got a little windy at one point, but then it passed."

"Wind?" she asked curiously. "I was on the porch this morning, not a breath of air came my way."

I shrugged. "It was just for a moment, stirring up the water. Probably wasn't strong enough to make it up to the house."

"Hmm." she said, turning away and walking to the window. "Interesting."

"Is it?" I said irritably. With everything that had happened during the course of the last twenty-four hours, I had long since reached my capacity for drama for the day. Forget the day. I didn't want to deal with anything else for the next month.

My mother chuckled hollowly. "I suppose it's not. I'm sorry, darling. I suppose this whole thing just has me...not knowing what to do." she smiled apologetically. "I wish there was something I could do."

I sighed, feeling guilty despite her earlier rude greeting. For all that my mother could be a basket case, I knew her antics came from a place of love. That was exactly why I found it so difficult to navigate my relationship with her, though. How did you handle a loved one making you unhappy by pushing their agenda on you when they were so convinced it was what's best for you?

In the end, I opted to keep the peace. With my life gone sideways, I didn't need to alienate my family on top of it. "I wish there was, too. But we'll get through this. I know we will. How bad could it be?" I patted her hand. "Regardless of the man, my future appears to be secured."

She smiled, a little sadly. "I was prepared to lose you before, when you were going to Baltingshire. But something tells me you're about to end up a lot further away."

"We don't know anything yet, mother," I said soothingly.

Her expressed fell into a deeper melancholy, despite the upturned corners of her mouth. "Don't we?"

"No," I said firmly.

She searched my face. "I suppose not," she said finally. "But you will. Soon."