To Defend A Duke

Chapter 30

The next day, across town, Blackmoore waits in his parent's smallest parlour. It took a lot of encouragement from Claude to make him travel the journey to his parent's manor but he did it.  

The butler looked most surprised when he opened the door to see his master's estranged son on the top step. He informed the duke in a haughty voice that Verity and Wilfred Blackmoore were currently having a late breakfast and would be unable to see him but Blackmoore insisted and was then told to wait in the parlour for them. That was an hour ago. 

Blackmoore wasn't expecting the warmest of welcomes from the parents that he hadn't seen in many years, except for at public functions, however, he wasn't prepared for them to make him wait this long. 

His hands tap along the side of the chair he is sitting in and his leg bounces up and down as he keeps his eyes on the door.  He took Jasper's advice and washed and shaved this morning before putting on one of his finest suits as he knows his parents' high regard for smart appearance even on a casual day. 

The door clicks open and his mother swans in dressed from head to toe in the finest French silk. Gleaming jewels hang from her ears and throat. 

Verity Blackmoore possesses the ability to make everyone, no matter how rich or powerful, to stop and take notice of her. Some might say that this envied skill comes from the advantageous marriage she has, however, only those born with such a sense of entitlement can hold such a power by their mere presence, it cannot be learnt. While she is considered snobbish and arrogant, no one can accuse her of not knowing her worth as a woman, she knows the limitation of her sex and how to take advantage of those who can be swayed by a pretty face or a large cheque. 

"Dear, mother." Blackmoore rises to his feet and bows. He offers to kiss her hand but she swishes past him, ignoring his hand, and elegantly sits upon a chair. He opens his mouth to speak but she holds her hand up and he goes silent. 

"I was quite aghast when I was told of your visiting." She says, her voice, sweet but with an edge. "I said to Wilfred this and he refused to see you." 

"Is father well?" He asks, trying to meet his mother's eye but she turns her face away from him 

"Your father is moody and barely leaves his study, he is well as he will ever be, his isolation suits me well." She sniffs and casts him a scathing glance. "What is the purpose of your interruption?" 

"I need to ask you a question," Blackmoore says, slowly. "It's a sensitive matter." 

"Four years and you turn up for a question?" Verity raises her eyebrows. 

"I assure you, if it was avoidable I wouldn't be here." He says impatiently. 

"Then don't waste my time." She snaps, "I have some ladies coming over for lunch." 

He fights the urge to roll his eyes at his mother's antics and speaks. "I lately found myself in an undesirable situation that has recently become void at the expensive of a friend." 

Verity's eyes narrow and her lips become thin. "I want nothing to do with your mess, your father and I have spent far too much time cleaning up your life and for what? To still have a son that is a disgrace? Not worth my time." 

"There is no longer a mess as the result of a french pistol....did you...." He leaves the sentence hanging in the air. His mother glares at him, she stands and faces the window, keeping her eyes away from him. 

"Your father is the one I would discuss such delicate matters with..." 

"I don't pretend that father isn't powerful or rich but he hasn't the cunning nor the intelligence to preempt what has happened." He cuts across.