Chapter Seventeen
Piers couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Upon returning to London, Stacey had asked if they could get her mother before they went to his townhouse, so he’d instructed his coachman to go to her parents’ residence. He had expected to have an unpleasant confrontation with her father, but as it turned out, her father hadn’t been home.
Since Stacey had asked him and the coachman to join her, they’d done so. He’d thought it was odd she should want them to go up to the bedchamber with her. With her father gone, he was sure all she had to do was tell her mother to get her things and join them.
Except, when he saw her mother, he realized her mother was in no shape to get anything ready. Her mother was close to being catatonic. She was able to get up from the chair and walk out of her bedchamber, but she didn’t make eye contact with anyone, nor did she speak. It was as if she wasn’t there. She stared straight ahead, lost in her thoughts…if she was even thinking anything at all.
The maid, who’d been in the bedchamber with Stacey’s mother, came up to him as Stacey and her mother left the room. “You will need someone to take care of the duchess. She needs someone to feed her, dress her, make sure she walks, and change her undergarments when she doesn’t make it to the chamber pot in time.”
Forcing his gaze off of the doorway, Piers turned to her. “You have to feed her and tend to her more,” he swallowed, “personal needs?” It was difficult for him to say something like that in front of a lady, even if she was a maid.
“Someone has to. She requires constant care. I leave Stacey alone with her, but otherwise, I have to make sure she’s comfortable.”
When did Stacey’s mother become this way? Surely, she couldn’t have been in this condition her entire life. She had married and had a child. There had to have been a time when she was able to do everything on her own.
He didn’t dare ask the maid. He had to ask Stacey. This was much too delicate of an issue to discuss with a servant.
“I can come with you and Lady Whitney,” the maid offered. “I’ve been caring for the duchess for ten years. I know what to do. You wouldn’t have to train someone else.”
“Let me ask my wife what she wants.”
Since he didn’t know the maid, he had to be sure the maid could be trusted to do what was right for Stacey’s mother. Stacey would tell him whether or not the maid was good or not. In the past, he wouldn’t have even wondered about a person’s character before hiring them. He had assumed everyone was decent because people should be that way, but after coming across Stacey’s father and seeing Stacey’s mother, he didn’t think he could ever take anything at face value again.
The maid nodded, and he hurried out of the room. He ran down the steps and made it to Stacey, her mother, and his coachman as they reached the entryway.
“Stacey,” he called out.
She paused and glanced over her shoulder.
He waited until he was in front of her before he spoke. “Your mother has a maid here. Would you like her to come with us, or would you prefer we hire a new one?”
“Oh!” Stacey’s gaze went up the stairs. “I was so anxious to get my mother out while my father’s gone that I didn’t even think of Mrs. Bridgerton. Are you willing to hire her?”
“Only if she’s good to your mother,” he replied in a low voice.
“She is good to my mother. I’d like for her to come, too.”
“All right. I’ll tell her to pack her things.” He turned to the coachman. “After you see to it that Lady Whitney and her mother are comfortable in the carriage, I want you and the footman to come back in here. We’ll need to get their things packed, and we’ll need to do it quickly.”
He hadn’t wanted to run into Stacey’s father before, but he especially wanted to avoid a confrontation now. He couldn’t be sure, but he suspected the reason Stacey was so anxious to get her mother out of here was because her father had been cruel to her mother. He didn’t trust himself to remain in a calm state if her father were to return while he was still here. How could he treat his own family the way he did?
As Stacey and the coachman led the duchess outside, Piers hurried up the stairs to take care of the arrangements.
***
Stacey and Mrs. Bridgerton led Stacey’s mother to the rocking chair by the window in the bedchamber Piers had given her to stay in. They settled her mother into the chair, and Mrs. Bridgerton clasped Stacey’s hand.
Looking over at the maid, she caught the tears in Mrs. Bridgerton’s eyes. “You have such a gentle husband. He reminds me of the one I had taken in my youth. I can’t tell you how glad I am to be out of your father’s employment.”
Stacey put her hand over the maid’s and squeezed it. “I want Mother to get better. I don’t see how that’s going to happen as long as she’s under his roof.”
“I don’t, either. I thought I’d be spending the rest of my life taking care of her.”
Mrs. Bridgerton had come to work for Stacey’s father right after her husband died. She had been thirty-two at the time. That had been around the same time her mother had stopped wanting to do anything. Thankfully, Mrs. Bridgerton had been spared the worst of what Stacey’s father had done. All she knew was that her father never came to see her mother. And that was all Stacey wanted her to know.
Piers led the butler into the bedchamber and gestured to the small room adjacent to the bedchamber. “We’ll arrange for a bed to go in there. Mrs. Bridgerton will need to be near the Duchess of Cathorn at all times.”
The butler nodded as the coachman and footman brought in some trunks. “I’ll have everything done by this evening, my lord,” the butler said.
While Piers continued to talk to the butler, Stacey hugged her mother and whispered, “We aren’t going to America, but we’ll be living here with Piers from now on. He’s a good person, Mother. It’s safe for you to come back to me.”
She released her mother and took a good look at her face, but her mother didn’t show any response. Stacey sighed in disappointment. She should have known it would take more than moving her mother to a different residence to get her mother to do or say something. Her mother had been stuck in her condition for a long time. Of course, she wasn’t going to snap out of it right away.
Stacey straightened up then went over to Piers.
Piers went over to Stacey. “Will you prepare a list of things you and your mother like to eat? I’d like to have at least one thing during mealtime that everyone can enjoy.”
“I’ll do that,” she told him, unable to stop the feeling of gratitude she experienced. Yes, it was a simple thing he wanted, but it made all the difference to her. What a nice change that was from how her father did things. She’d never have to eat another neat’s tongue, pineapple, or egg again.
Piers turned to Mrs. Bridgerton. “Don’t hesitate to let either Lady Whitney or me know what we can do to make things more comfortable for you and the duchess. I realize things haven’t been all that pleasant for any of you in the past, but this is a new start.”
Mrs. Bridgerton smiled at him. “On behalf of myself and the duchess, I thank you.”
He returned her smile and then asked Stacey if she would talk to him in private. Sure he wanted to ask her more about her mother, Stacey went out of the bedchamber and walked down the hall to another room.
He opened the door and led her into a bedchamber that had her trunk in it. “This is your room.” Once she was in, he closed the door and followed her. “Over there is the door connecting our rooms. You can come into my bedchamber anytime you want.”
“And you can come in here anytime you want.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” he said, a mischievous sparkle in his eye.
She chuckled.
He took her hand and led her to the bed. Still holding her hand, he sat beside her. “I understand the situation with your mother is a delicate one. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but I’d like to know why she’s like that.”
How much did she want to tell him? So much was painful to even think about. After a moment, Stacey said, “Your parents were in love with each other. Mine weren’t. My father married my mother because their parents arranged it. While I was growing up, I can’t remember a time when I saw my parents together. My mother never spoke a bad word about my father, but I can’t recall her ever saying anything good, either. I didn’t really know him until I was in my first Season. He ignored me up to then.”
She took a deep breath. The next part was the hardest to tell anyone, and even though Piers was someone she was comfortable confiding in, she still had difficulty saying it.
She cleared her throat. “When I was nine, my mother had another child. This time she had a boy, but he didn’t survive the birth.”
“That’s terrible,” Piers said, his voice soft.
“My mother was devastated. My father was angry. He blamed her for it.”
“How could he do that? It wasn’t her fault.”
“With my father, it’s always someone’s fault. In this case, he blamed her for the loss of my brother.” Deciding not to go into the way his father had yelled at her mother or the fact that he struck her, she opted to continue, “Shortly after that, she slipped into the condition you see now. I think it was the only way she could cope with everything. I’m hoping that she’ll get better now that she’s here.”
“I hope so, too.” He paused, as if carefully weighing his words. “In the event she doesn’t, I want you to know I’ll make sure she’s well cared for. You’ll never have to worry about her safety or comfort.”
She knew he wasn’t trying to sound pessimistic, but it was possible her mother might never recover. He was just letting her know that regardless of the outcome, her mother would have all of her needs met for the rest of her life.
He kissed her cheek. “I really do hope she gets better.” He glanced around the bedchamber. “I’m going to finish getting everything in order with the servants. One of the things we need to do is get you a lady’s maid, unless you want to use the one you had before we married.”
“No, I’d rather get a new one. I’d like to pick her.”
“I’ll arrange for an advertisement, and then I’ll schedule times for you to interview the ladies who respond.” He gave her another kiss. “Would you like any of the servants to help you put your things away?”
She shook her head. “I’d like to do it myself.”
After her father dictating almost every little detail of her life, she was looking forward to putting her own things away. Then she could put them exactly where she wanted them.
Piers rose to his feet and offered her a smile. “I’ll be in the den if you need me.” Then he left her alone to do as she wished.
***
Piers went through his ledger to make sure he had accounted for the trip to Gretna Green. Then he set aside salaries for Mrs. Bridgerton and the lady’s maid Stacey would pick.
When he was done, he turned to the books lining the shelves behind his desk. Stacey’s father reminded him a lot of the harsh rulers in the past. Until recently, he had thought only ruthless men who oversaw entire countries were a serious threat. He hadn’t considered that a gentleman in London might have a similar stronghold with his wife and children.
Even after all his research, he couldn’t fathom why a gentleman would want to be a tyrant to his own family. But then, some kings in the past had allowed their newborn children to be sacrificed to gods, and some had chosen to either exile or execute their wives for the silliest reasons, such as not having a son or for not coming to their parties when told to do so.
He should have expected there to be gentlemen of lesser nobility who exhibited similar traits. Selfishness and pride weren’t limited to how much money a gentleman had. He was sure there were more things Stacey’s father had done that she wasn’t willing to tell him.
A commotion broke out in the direction of the entryway of the townhouse. If Piers had to guess, Stacey’s father had come over, and he was demanding that Stacey and her mother return to his residence.
Piers didn’t enjoy confrontations, but this was one of those times when he’d have to stand his ground. He had promised Stacey he would keep her and her mother safe, and he wasn’t about to back down from his promise.
He hurried to the entryway. As he suspected, Stacey’s father was demanding to see his wife and daughter…and he was angry.
“Lord Whitney has given us strict instructions to not let you into the townhouse,” the butler said as he and the footman blocked him from getting past the entryway.
Stacey’s father looked over at Piers and narrowed his eyes at him.
“Your daughter and I are married,” Piers told her father, doing his best to keep his tone even.
Though Piers hated to admit it, her father was imposing when he was angry. The last thing he wanted to do was cower in fear. And he wouldn’t. But that didn’t stop him from experiencing a wave of apprehension. All he had to do was stand firm. Just as he’d done when her father wanted to be the chaperone at the dinner party.
“Your daughter wants her mother to live here,” Piers continued. “They aren’t leaving.”
Her father pushed the footman and butler away and marched over to him.
It took all of Piers’ willpower to stand still. When he’d told her father he wouldn’t let him be Stacey’s chaperone at the dinner party, her father hadn’t stormed over to him like this. But even so, he was determined to stay put.
Her father pointed a finger at him. “You are an insolent child. You can’t rape my daughter, haul her off to Gretna Green to cover up your sin, and then steal my wife to satisfy your sick sense of pleasure.”
Piers didn’t know which part of all of the entire statement he should address first. Not only had her father just accused him of raping Stacey, but he was also insinuating that Piers planned to sleep with both mother and daughter. Finally, he opened his mouth to tell the duke he would never do any of those things when he saw her father’s fist heading straight for his nose. And from there, everything was a blur.
His spectacles flew off his face before he landed on the floor. He landed on the floor before he felt the pain. He felt the pain before he tasted the blood that seeped into his mouth.
Her father lunged at him, but the footman and butler grabbed her father. The coachman came in from another room and helped the other servants restrain him.
Piers managed to grab his spectacles and stand up by the time Stacey ran into the entryway. “Piers didn’t rape me,” she told her father. “I went with him to Gretna Green willingly. And he hasn’t touched Mother. How dare you make up those lies?” Though her voice was shaking, she continued, “Whatever lies you put into the Tittletattle, I’ll deny each and every single one.”
“You’ve lost your wits. You don’t know what you’re saying,” her father spat.
“I haven’t lost my wits,” she said. “I’m glad I’m no longer under your roof, and I’m glad I took Mother with me.”
Piers slipped his spectacles on, but the copper wire frames were bent, preventing them from fitting properly on his face. The only reason he kept them on was so that he could see her father clearly.
Her father glared at Piers and struggled to get away from the three servants, but they managed to keep a firm hold on him. Piers had never seen such animosity in anyone’s eyes before. If her father could reach him, her father just might kill him.
When Piers was sure the servants’ hold was secure, he retrieved the handkerchief from his pocket and gentle wiped his bloody nose.
“If you think I’m going to sit still and let you disgrace me this way,” her father began, “you’re wrong. You have no idea what you’re up against.”
“I don’t care what you say about me,” Piers replied. “I can handle whatever scandal you create. My sense of worth isn’t tied up in what the Ton thinks of me.”
Her father glowered at him. “That’s pompous talk for someone who hasn’t accomplished anything in his life.”
Piers frowned, his fear finally giving way to anger. “All I care about is what you’re doing to your daughter and your wife. Do you really want everyone to think they’re sharing my bed?” Then, to make sure his servants understood this wasn’t the case, he added, “Which they aren’t. Your daughter is my wife, and she’s the only one who comes to my bed.”
“It’s true,” Stacey said, inching closer to Piers.
He slipped his arm around her waist, noting the way she still trembled. He could only imagine how things must have been for her while growing up. No one should be afraid of their father like this.
Since her father wasn’t able to get to Piers, he took a step back and straightened his cravat. “I can see you’ve influenced my daughter to the point where she’s lost her mind. She was never rebellious until you came along. Up to now, she’s been sensible.”
“No,” Stacey argued. “Up to now, I’ve been so afraid of you that I did everything you told me to do. For the first time in my life, I have the freedom to make my own decisions.”
He stared at her for a moment, his expression a mixture of disbelief and disgust. Finally, he shook his head. “If only you’d done your part to attract a gentleman worth marrying. I’m disappointed in you.”
Piers followed him to the door, ignoring Stacey’s protests as he did so. “I demand you apologize to my wife for the way you just spoke to her.”
Her father turned to face him. “I won’t apologize for telling the truth.” Then he marched down the steps of the townhouse.
Piers waited until her father was getting into his carriage before he let the footman shut the door. When he noticed that Stacey was crying, he dismissed the servants and wrapped his arm around her shoulders so he could lead her to the drawing room.
Once there, he shut the doors and guided her over to the settee. He put his handkerchief aside and retrieved a clean one from the drawer in his desk. He gave it to her as he sat beside her.
“What he said isn’t true,” he said in a soft voice. “You aren’t the reason gentlemen didn’t want to be with you. He’s the reason they didn’t want to marry you. None of them wanted him for a father-in-law. Stacey,” he rubbed her back, “you are beautiful and gracious and kind. You’re everything a gentleman could ever want.”
She sniffed and wiped her cheeks. “I’m not crying because of what he said about me. I know what he thinks of me. He’s never had anything but contempt for me because I was a girl. I’m used to it by now. I just… Well, I’m grateful my mother and I don’t have to live with him anymore, and I’m also sorry I brought you into this. You deserve better, Piers. He’s going to spread those lies. He wasn’t bluffing.”
“I wasn’t bluffing, either.” He took her hand in his. “There are some things worth fighting for, and you’re one of them. If everyone decides they don’t want to talk to me after all of this, I can live with it because I have you. I told you that on the day I asked you to marry me, and I still feel this way. We’re going to be all right. Even if we end up living in the country to get away from all of the gossip, we’ll be fine because we’re going to be together. We’re going to take care of your mother, and we’re going to have children who will be a blessing to our home. I love you, Stacey, and there’s nothing that’s ever going to change that.”
She stopped crying and looked at him. “You love me?”
He nodded. “With all of my heart.”
“I love you, too.”
He hadn’t expected her to say she loved him, but hearing those words—those wonderful words—coming from her lips made it so he didn’t even notice the pain in his nose. He was so overcome with joy that he kissed her, only thinking too late that it wasn’t a good idea to do so when he pulled away from her and saw that he’d gotten some of his blood on her.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he took her handkerchief and wiped her face. “My excitement got the best of me.”
“I don’t mind, Piers.” She wrapped him in a strong hug. “I don’t mind at all.” And to prove her point, she gave him a kiss.
After that, she helped him take care of his nose.