hurt him.
What had she said? This was my choice, Nash. He could choose to be himself, not his father. Couldn’t he?
He placed the vase back down on the table, Robert watching his movements. For a moment, Nash allowed himself to think about what would have happened if he had smashed the vase, after all: the satisfying noise of the crash against the wall, the shards of glass falling to the carpet, the final and utter destruction of something that could never be brought back.
There was something intoxicating about that finality, about completing an action that could never be undone. But that way was a dangerous, inevitable path toward who he could not be, not without loathing himself and having everyone in his vicinity—not just people who believed his reputation—know he was as dangerous as they had heard.
What if she believed he was as dangerous as his reputation? Worse, what if she saw him engage in violence when it wasn’t justified? When her safety wasn’t at risk?
He didn’t think he could live with himself. Which just meant he had to keep his temper tethered. He had to choose to be different.
“There you are. We must speak. Now.”
His grandmother’s peremptory tone matched her commanding expression. She stood at the doorway to his office, her lady’s maid just behind her, both ladies radiating disapproval.
Of course.
He wished he could tell her that at least he hadn’t broken the vase, but then that would be admitting he shared more of his father’s tendencies than she likely knew.
“Pardon me, Your Grace,” Robert said, nodding as he walked toward the door, stepping aside to let the dowager duchess in.
“Thank you,” Nash called, hoping Robert would know he was thanking him for all of it—for standing strong against Nash’s violence, for finding Nash’s mother. For seeming to trust Nash when he didn’t trust himself.
His grandmother walked slowly into the room, her lady’s maid at her elbow.
“Please sit down,” he said, pulling a chair out for her.
He waited as she lowered herself into her chair, pointedly ignoring his outstretched hand. Her lady’s maid positioned herself in her usual place behind the dowager duchess.
“Those three were the top three on the list.” His grandmother sniffed as she straightened herself even more in her chair. “And now only Lady Felicity is a possible candidate.”
“Isn’t it saving time to know right away?” It seemed only practical to Nash; besides which, now he wouldn’t have to dance with two of the three.
“That is not the point. I know your mother left when you were young, but I would have thought your father”—never saying “my son,” which showed the depths of her antipathy toward him—“would have obtained proper training for you.”
Nash shook his head slowly, as though regretful. Which he most definitely was not. Being ignored by his father was a blessing. “The late duke was intent on only a few things, and obtaining proper training for me was not one of them.” Instead, he’d been free to roam around the country, tagging along with Sebastian and Thaddeus on their adventures. Occasionally Ana Maria would join, when she could escape unnoticed by Sebastian’s mother.
“I will have to instruct you on proper behavior,” the dowager duchess announced. Her lady’s maid nodded her agreement.
Nash gripped the arms of his chair, willing himself not to shout at both of them. “There is no need.”
“There certainly is a need. Unless you can think of someone else you can ask?” She raised an accusing finger at him. “And don’t think you can say you’re going to learn and then just not. I will be able to tell.”
Thoughts of asking Ana Maria for this instruction—in exchange for self-defense lessons—crossed his mind, but he couldn’t risk spending even more time with her. The self-defense lessons were of crucial importance, whereas his learning how to navigate polite Society without alienating everyone was most definitely not.
“Fine. You can do it,” he said shortly.
She looked surprised—at his capitulation? But she didn’t say anything, just nodded in satisfaction.
“We will begin tomorrow,” she said as she rose from the chair. He darted around his desk to help her, and this time, she accepted his assistance, not waiting for her lady’s maid. “Right now, I am going to have a nap. I will need to be well rested.” She gave him one last assessing look, then she and her lady’s maid walked out the door, leaving him to collapse in his chair, shaking his head in bewilderment.
This getting married and siring an heir was a lot harder