"HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEWS MARY?" the Viscountess asked.

Lady Thomas, formerly known as Mrs. Whitfield, sat on her terrace sipping tea with her friend. "What news?" Lady Thomas asked.

"The latest gossip about your son. Apparently, he fought the Duke of Worcester at Princess Lettie's ball."

Mary set down her teacup. "How did he even get invited to the crown princess' ball?"

"Everyone was shocked to see someone so common at a royal ball. That wasn't even the highlight of the evening."

Mary peered at her friend in disbelief. "What could be more shocking than a brawl at a formal event?"

"Your daughter-in-law publicly admonishing the princess for supposedly trapping her in the gardens with the Duke."

"Sarah, you've always been very dramatic. It can't be as bad you say," Mary said dismissively.

"Mrs. Whitfield took the princess' fan and threw it on the ground."

Mary nearly spit out her tea. What was wrong with young people these days? Where were their manners? "I cannot believe my ears."

"My daughter said she could not believe her eyes when she wrote to me." the viscountess said. Mary sighed. She couldn't remember the last time her son wrote to her. "You should do something about him and his wife, Mary."

A visit to her son was probably overdue, Mary thought to herself. "They're grown adults. I shouldn't have to give them a lecture on proper manners."

"Twenty years and eight and twenty years are only children," Sarah disagreed. "But that's not what I meant. They need some motherly intervention in their marriage."

"Marriage?" Mary asked to more herself than her friend. She hadn't thought of her daughter-in-law in years. She remembered a buxom young woman who hadn't breathed a word at her wedding. For what it was worth, Mary had advised her son against the marriage. She'd married Matthew's father for love and she'd expected him to follow her example. Her son had not. "I don't think he ever had much of a marriage with that girl."'

"I disagree. Do you know that he ravished her in a savusauna a fortnight ago?"

Mary had a slight coughing fit before she was able to speak. "What is wrong with him?" she rasped.

Sarah only laughed. "Don't pretend you don't remember what it was like to be young. You and Robert had quite the dalliances back in the day."

The mention of Mary's late husband brought heat to her cheeks. "Robert and I never did anything like that."

"So you don't remember how the two of you made love in a field?"

Mary pushed her teacup aside. "This isn't about who I was decades ago. It's about how my son is making a fool of himself."

"It's also about how your son is rumored to have a pregnant, live-in mistress who he plans to marry before the baby is born."

Mary's eyes widened. She remembered a certain mischievous courtesan Matthew kept years ago. "This rumored mistress doesn't happen to go by the name of Victoria Sill?"

"I don't know her surname. Victoria does sound right though."

"You think that this, Mary nearly spat out the next word, pregnant mistress is preventing my son from having a true marriage."

"According to current gossip and my very own flesh and blood, that appears to be the truth."

"I think you're right, Sarah. That marriage does need some intervention."

The viscountess smiled excitedly. "How do you plan to do it?"

"It's about time my son visited Brisbane Manor again. It's been too long," Mary said. "And I'll make sure he brings his wife too."

***

"If it had been anyone else, I would've rained hell on them," Leticia told me. We were sitting in the drawing room of Ludlow House, my new humble abode. It was a pleasant, average-sized house located in the heart of the capitol. I missed my rose garden at Whitfield mansion, but I loved Ludlow so far. At the moment, I couldn't focus on the words of my friend. I kept replaying Matthew words in the letter he'd written me before my move.

Dear wife,

You were right. It's not fair for me to let my emotions control me when I'm around you when I cannot be the husband you deserve. I'll send a carriage later today to take you to Ludlow House. It's a lovely residence I have in the capitol that I've never lived in. I think you'll like it. I'll try and keep my distance from you between now and the divorce. But if I ever see you, I promise to be the gentleman you deserve. I won't touch you. I won't kiss you. I won't look at you like a man dying of thirst. I promise to do everything in my power to give you what you deserve.

Sincerely,

Matthew

The letter should've come as a relief. So, why did his words make me feel so empty? I won't touch you. I won't look at you. I won't kiss you. I should be happy to hear that. Why wasn't I happy to hear that?

"Rose?" Leticia's voice cut through my thoughts. "I'm trying to apologize and you're a world away."

"Sorry," I said. "What were you saying?"

"I was saying that if you were anyone else, I wouldn't be sitting in your drawing room apologizing right now."

I smiled drily. "That doesn't sound like much of an apology."

"I'm sorry, Rose," Leticia said finally. Her tone was genuine. "If I'd known Cleveland would've made you seriously uncomfortable, I never would've left you alone with him. You know that right?"

"Your machinations weren't totally innocent," I admitted. "But I know you meant no harm."

"Thank you." Leticia smiled. "I can guess where your mind is at."

I sipped my tea. "Don't start."

"I saw the way he looked at you at the ball, Rose. You can't deny that there's something there."

"Leticia..."

"He even gave you this beautiful residence. Ludlow is one of the most coveted estates in the capitol."

"He's just being nice," I burst out. I drew my fingers over my eyes. "He...we know there is something between us. Leticia. But he has a mistress who has his heart and carries his child. There is no room for me."

Leticia's countenance mellowed. "Sweetheart."

"He's going to divorce me, Leticia. And then we'll never see each other again. How can I pursue a romance with him knowing my heart is going to get broken?"

"Many people father children out of wedlock that are still taken care of. He doesn't have to marry her---especially when there is something between the two of you."

"I told him to have me or leave me alone," I whispered, my voice dangerously close to tears. "And he wrote me a letter saying he's done taking liberties because of the position it puts me in. He's made his choice." Leticia quickly crossed the room to envelop me in a hug. I fell against her in a fit of sobs.

"I cried like a stupid girl the night of that ball, Leticia. I wanted him...I want him to choose me. Isn't that pathetic?"

"You are not pathetic, Rose. You're a lot of things, but you are not pathetic."

🥀

"I think I'll go with cream linen for the wedding gown. Pure white is overdone," Victoria said.

"Mhm," Matthew replied.

Victoria squinted her eyes at him. "Are you listening to me?"

"Every word, darling. Every word," Matthew said with a reassuring smile. Victoria had been prattling on about wedding dresses for over an hour. Matthew didn't really see the point. Their wedding wouldn't take place in front of an audience anyhow.

Victoria opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Bert entering the drawing room. "A letter for you Mr. Whitfield." Victoria snatched the letter from the tray.

"Don't!" Matthew exclaimed forcefully. He took the letter from his mistress' hand. For all he knew, it was Rose responding to his correspondence from days ago. At least, he hoped it was. He'd been impatient to hear from her since he penned the letter. It would be a disaster if Victoria read anything she wrote.

Victoria instantly looked suspicious. "What do you care if I read your post?"

"It's my post and I don't want you to read it," Matthew bit out.

"You're being strange." Matthew tore upon the seal and eagerly examined the contents. "What is it then?"

"My mother," Matthew breathed quietly. "She's invited me and Axel to Brisbane Manor."

Victoria put her hand on her hips, weighing his words. "Your mother? That's odd. She's never invited you and your wife anywhere together."

"I know."

"What does this mean?"

Matthew tapped this missive against his palm. "Probably nothing. I haven't visited her in a while."

"I know your visits are infrequent but your wife has never been asked to be at your side." Victoria's face was folding into something ugly. "It must mean something."

Privately, Matthew absolutely agreed with her. During his spotty visits to Lady Thomas, she barely brought up his disappointing marriage. Inviting Rose now was some sort of calculation...but to what end? He had absolutely no clue. But, he wasn't going to tell Victoria that. She would only jump to wild conclusions. Matthew kissed her cheek. "It's nothing dear. She's just finally decided to be polite."

"But why?"

"Because she's a bored mama with nothing to do, that's why. Don't worry, Vic."

Victoria scowled at her groom-to-be. "When are you supposed to go to Brisbane?"

"This weekend."

"This...this was impulsive. It was meant to catch you off guard. Why would she want to do that?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Vic."

"It's true!"

Matthew stared absently around the drawing room, searching for a way out. "Why don't I go into town and look at some diamonds for your wedding ring. I know you want one."

Victoria clasped her hands together as if she was about to beg for a favor. "Matthew, you have to promise me something."

"Anything love."

"If this visit is some attempt to reconcile the both of you, you must tell her I'm your intended and that I carry your child." Matthew's mouth was suddenly dry. "Promise me you'll tell her."

"I promise."

🥀

"It's a lovely day today," Matthew commented. It was a clear skyed Saturday morning with just the right amount of sunshine. I suspected the day would be even lovelier if I wasn't stuck in a carriage headed to my mother-in-law's manor.

"Yes," I replied, not looking up from my book.

"It's usually very rainy during the spring. I love a clear day."

"Mhm."

"Do you prefer rainy or sunny days?"

"Mr. Whitfield?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to talk about the bloody weather."

Matthew sighed noisily. There was a pause. "I just trying to be nice, Rose."

"You've never gone out of your way to be nice to be before. I see no need to start now."

"Are you ever going to stop throwing my past behavior in my face?" Matthew asked. His voice was taught in frustration.

"Probably not," I said pleasantly.

"You are impossible," he said lowly.

I looked up from my book. "Excuse me?"

"You didn't have to come, Rose. I wrote telling you about the invitation and you decided to accompany me. I never would've forced you to attend."

"Don't be ridiculous. I couldn't have refused an invitation from your mother, Matthew. That's rude."

"She's not going to be your mother-in-law for any longer. You're not obliged to be courteous."

The comment, which held no venom, stung. "You didn't have to tell me about the invitation, you know," I returned. "You could've turned up there alone and said your wife was indisposed." I studied his darkening eyes. "Or, better yet, you could've gone with your mistress and made a proper introduction."

Matthew's jaw tightened. "Don't be vulgar."

"Whose being vulgar? Is she not your betrothed? Don't men introduce their fiancées to their mothers?"

"You know exactly why it's vulgar."

I turned back to my book. "I haven't the faintest clue, actually."

"I don't know why I invited you."

"I don't know why I came." There was brief pause. I looked up from my book again. "Why did your mother invite the both of us, Matthew? I haven't seen her since we were married."

Matthew shrugged. "I'm just as confused as you." His lips lifted in a slight smile.

"Why are you smiling? Is something funny?"

"Nothing...it's just.." Matthew's grin widened. "Victoria thinks she might be trying to reconcile us."

We both laughed at this. "There's no way she's trying to do that." That woman had never been kind to me. I thought she disapproved of the match, anyway "What do you think the real reason is?"

We glanced outside the window. Brisbane Manor was coming into view. "I guess we'll have to see."

A/N: This chapter is a day late. I'm so sorry! What do you think is going to happen at Brisbane?