The Redemption of a Rogue, стр. 35

Chapter 13

There was nothing in the world Oscar wished for more than to be able to tell this story without hearing the crack in his voice. It was why he always avoided speaking about it. About the past. About his father. About his family, outside of his mother.

And yet this bewitching woman sat across from him and asked, just asked him…and he found himself telling the story nonetheless.

“He met her at an assembly he attended with a friend. Normally it was only attended by country folk. A baronet was enough to get their hearts to flutter, and here came this duke. One who had not yet cemented his terrible reputation, so he was welcomed.”

“How old was she?” she asked softly.

“Eighteen, perhaps? Nineteen? She was out in Society, seeking a husband. And she was beautiful.”

“She still is,” Imogen said with a slight smile.

He shook his head. “She is. She turns heads wherever she goes. But when she was nineteen? She has a portrait of herself from right before she met my father, and there was no way a man like him would have been able to resist her. And in doing so, he condemned her to a much different life.”

“Obviously, I only know your mother from a brief encounter today, after a long life of experiences. So it’s hard for me to picture her being taken in. She seems so certain of herself.”

“She probably always was a little of that. But she was young. He had not yet married, so I’m sure he convinced her that she would be his bride. And so…she capitulated. She gave in after a short courtship. He had his prize. And he used her, giving no care to her future or her hopes or dreams. And then she found herself with child.”

“You,” she said, reaching out to cover his knee with her hand.

When she did it, he realized he’d been bouncing his leg up and down. He stared at her fingers, pale against the dark fabric of his trousers. Just the faint pressure of them, and he felt this strange sense of calm.

Enough that he could suck in a great breath and say, “Yes. Me. She begged him to do as he’d said and marry her so that she wouldn’t be ruined. And he laughed at her.”

Imogen flinched slightly and her fingers tightened against his knee, this time comforting, not just calming. “Poor Joanna.”

“Indeed. He told her he would protect her if she chose to continue the affair, but that he would never marry someone with so little worth as she had. She turned to her family, but they were enraged with her for trading away the only thing of value they believed she possessed. She was thrown out on the street. And so, became my father’s mistress.”

“There must have been repercussions,” Imogen said. “She had been of a good family and his seduction seems to have been somewhat public.”

“Oh, there were. His reputation as one of the worst men in Society was born through his actions with her. And yet he was still a duke, wasn’t he? Rich as Croesus and nearly as powerful as the king. He was untouchable. He used that to his every advantage. Meanwhile, she was labeled as fallen and had to leave behind everything and everyone she’d ever loved to move to a house in London and birth herself a son with a man she had begun to despise.”

“But it is clear she doesn’t despise you,” she said. “Her love for you, her pride in you and your achievements, it shines all over her face. You cannot blame yourself for the circumstances of your birth. None of us are responsible for those.”

“Perhaps not. But I sometimes wonder what she would have been able to do, what she would have been able to become with all her resourcefulness, if she hadn’t had a bastard child to label her a harlot in the eyes of those who had power.” He shook his head.

“What she became has power in its own right. It would be impossible not to see it.”

That elicited a ghost of a smile to the corners of his lips. “Well, that is true, yes. She was always the kind to take her situation and make the best of it. She might have lost any love she felt for Roseford, but she very much hadn’t lost sight of what she could do for herself as his mistress. She negotiated a hefty allowance for herself, and one for me after I was born. She forced him to gift her the home she resides in today, free and clear of his influence, so he could not take it away. It set her up so that when their arrangement ended, a year after I was born, she could have far more choice in what she did next and with whom.”

Imogen smiled. “Very resourceful. And what did Roseford think of you? Were you his first child?”

“I was,” he said slowly, for this was the part of the story he had never said to any other person. The part even his mother couldn’t pry out of him. The part that affected so many of his choices and boundaries and relationships.

Perhaps she heard that in his tone. Perhaps she felt it in the tension that returned to his body, including the knee she was still touching so gently. Perhaps she just…understood because that was who she was.

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” she said.

He shrugged, wishing