Awakening Love Reborn to Be His Duchess (Elowen Hale) novel Chapter 102

Chapter 102 Marwen’s Regret

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Yvonne was about to ask him when the stream of curses from beside her resumed.

“You fatherless, motherless wretch! How dare you show your face here again!”

Yvonne suddenly realized the truth. Her gaze sharpened. “The vagabond you spoke of… is him?”

Marwen, momentarily distracted, confirmed, “Yes! Him! Doesn’t he just look like a doomed, impoverished wretch?”

Yvonne’s face instantly darkened.

Marwen, her eyes fixed venomously on Piers, failed to notice the change. She continued her interrogation. “You! What is your family name? Where is your home? Who are your parents?”

Piers walked steadily forward until he stood before them. He spoke calmly, “Lady Marwen, my family name is Leofric. My home is on Blessing Lane. My father is the Duke of Falconcrest.”

Marwen’s eyes bulged with shock, her brain struggling to process the words at first.

Piers then turned to Yvonne, bowing respectfully. “Mother.”

Yvonne’s face was cold. “Hmph.”

In that instant, it was as if thunder had crashed directly beside Marwen’s ear. Her jaw hung slack. She stood frozen, utterly stupefied.

Mother?

Mother!

He was not a merchant. He was the son of the Duke of Falconcrest.

But what had she just said?

Vagabond. Paramour.

She had even told Yvonne he must be the son of a low–born mistress…

Black spots danced before Marwen’s eyes. She nearly fainted on the spot.

Then came the crushing wave of regret.

So that’s why Elowen kept saying he wasn’t a merchant, telling me to watch my

words.

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Chapter 102 Marwen’s Regret

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Finished

She knew all along!

I just didn’t listen…

Regret swiftly curdled into a flicker of resentment.

Why couldn’t she have just spoken plainly from the start?

After a long moment, Marwen forced her lips into a tremulous smile. “Yvonne…”

Yvonne cut her off icily. “We are not that close.”

Marwen’s face contorted. She forced a servile smile. “Y–yes… Your Grace, please don’t be angry. I… I was simply overcome with concern for my daughter, speaking nonsense. Please, pay my foolish words no mind…”

She glanced at Piers and felt nothing but deep, giddy satisfaction.

The sole heir to Falconcrest!

The title, the estate, all his.

If Sylvia married him…

She scarcely dared imagine the immense wealth and status that would follow.

Summoning her thickest skin, she simpered at Yvonne. “Your Grace, if the two young people have taken a liking to each other, it must be fate! Surely you won’t let my careless words ruin such a splendid match?”

“Stop.”

Yvonne’s eyes held only disgust. Her tone was biting. “My son, with his ‘impoverished, wretched appearance, born of a ‘low–born mistress,‘ would surely be unworthy of your daughter.”

She was throwing Marwen’s own venomous insults back in her face.

Marwen’s expression turned utterly sheepish. She stood awkwardly, not knowing where to put her hands or feet.

Yvonne turned decisively to Elowen, managing a polite smile. “Thank you for your kind invitation and hospitality today. Falconcrest Manor has pressing matters. I must take my leave.”

Elowen tried to detain her. “Why so rushed, my lady? Please, try the pastries. They are freshly made. The mulberry tarts, especially, were chilled with ice–sweet, fragrant, and perfectly cool for a day like this.”

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Chapter 102 Marwen’s Regret

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Yvonne’s tone was cool. “Your hospitality is gracious, and I appreciate it. But our affairs are indeed urgent.”

Seeing her resolve, Elowen could press no further. She smiled gently, “Then I’ll invite you again next time.”

Yvonne offered a final, perfunctory smile and turned to leave.

Piers, concerned for Sylvia resting in the adjacent room, called out, “Mother…”

Yvonne didn’t even glance at him. “If you no longer wish to acknowledge me as your mother, then stay.”

With that, she strode away without looking back.

Piers knew his mother was truly, deeply angered.

He sighed helplessly, watching her retreating back, then turned to Elowen. “Please tell Sylvia not to be afraid.”

Elowen nodded. “I will.”

Piers gave her a look of profound gratitude before hurrying after his mother.

Marwen, unwilling to give up, tried to follow, only to be shoved aside unceremoniously by a stern–faced senior maid from Falconcrest Manor. In the scuffle, she tripped over the pavilion’s threshold and landed face–first in the dirt.

She sat there, sprawled on the ground, watching Yvonne, Piers, and their entourage grow smaller and smaller in the distance. Rage and regret tore at her.

Suddenly remembering something, she scrambled to her feet and turned to Elowen. “Your Grace! Go to Falconcrest Manor at once and apologize! This is a perfect match! We cannot let it slip away!”

Elowen’s voice was cool. “I have done nothing wrong. Why should I apologize? Weren’t you the one hurling insults at their heir?”

Marwen’s expression stiffened, then quickly shifted to blame. “This is your fault! You should have told me he was the Falconcrest heir!”

Elowen refused the blame. “Did I not tell you he was not a merchant?”

“You didn’t say he was the Falconcrest heir!”

Elowen almost laughed at the absurdity. “Lady Marwen, I tried several times to speak. You were

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Yvonne’s tone was cool. “Your hospitality is gracious, and I appreciate it. But our affairs are indeed urgent.”

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