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A Kind Lady Defended an Elderly Dowager Being Insulted — Never Knowing She Was the Duke's Mother

A Kind Lady Defended an Elderly Dowager Being Insulted — Never Knowing She Was the Duke's Mother

Chapter 14

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Beatrice considered the question. She thought of Richard's inevitable, suffocating ambition; she thought of Harriet Finch's venom; and she looked at the old woman sitting across from her—a woman who wore her immense power with complete, unapologetic exhaustion."No," Beatrice said softly. "I am not frightened. I am merely tired. I spent six years building a very quiet life. I liked my quiet life."Agatha's expression softened. The cynical, sharp edges of the Dowager Duchess melted away, leaving an elderly woman who looked deeply, profoundly lonely."My husband, the previous Duke, loved the noise," Agatha murmured, tracing the rim of her porcelain bowl. "He loved the sycophants. He loved the endless, meaningless chatter. When he died, Leo inherited the title, the debt, and the vultures. He was twenty-two. He spent ten years fixing the estate, cleaning up his father's messes, and learning to hate the people who praised him to his face while waiting for him to fail."Beatrice remained silent, absorbing the weight of the confession."He needs a wife," Agatha continued, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Not a girl who faints when he raises his voice. Not a woman who calculates her affection based on the balance of his ledgers. He needs someone who is not afraid of the dark, Beatrice. Someone who will stand in a crowded shop and tell a bully to go to hell."Before Beatrice could process the enormity of what Agatha was implying, the velvet curtains of the alcove were pulled back.Mrs. Finch stood there, gripping Harriet by the arm. Harriet looked pale, her lower lip trembling slightly; the gold silk of her dress suddenly looked heavy and ridiculous."Your Grace," Mrs. Finch said, executing a curtsy so deep she nearly toppled over. "I do apologize for the intrusion. We simply had to pay our respects."Agatha did not look up from her broth. "You are interrupting my supper, Mrs. Finch.""I am so terribly sorry," Mrs. Finch babbled, her face flushing a dull, panicked red. She shoved Harriet slightly forward. "Harriet wished to apologize. For Tuesday. We... we did not realize who you were, Your Grace.""Ah," Agatha said dryly, finally resting her spoon in her bowl. She leaned back, leveling a gaze of pure ice at the two women. "You did not realize I was a duchess. And that, of course, changes the mathematics of your cruelty, does it not? If I were truly a penniless old woman, your daughter's behavior would have been perfectly acceptable."Harriet flinched as if struck. "Your Grace, I—""—do not speak to me," Agatha snapped. The sheer authority in her voice made the air in the alcove turn freezing cold. "You are a vulgar, cruel little girl. You judge the world entirely by its wrapping because you have absolutely nothing of substance inside your own. I have no interest in your apologies. They are motivated by terror, not regret."Mrs. Finch looked as though she might burst into tears. "Your Grace, please. My husband's standing—""—your husband's standing is not my concern," Agatha interrupted. She gestured toward Beatrice, who sat perfectly still. "If you wish to apologize, you will apologize to Miss Hastings. She was the one forced to endure your screeching."
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A Kind Lady Defended an Elderly Dowager Being Insulted — Never Knowing She Was the Duke's Mother

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