“This letter is from Damon to you. I intercepted it from the tray a few weeks ago when I went to post a letter of my own.”
“A fewweeksago? How could you?”
His gaze fell to his boots. “I believed Damon’s show of affection for you was only a plot devised to spite me. Or worse, to deprive you of virtue. So I intercepted his letter and kept it in an effort to protect your honor and save you from heartbreak.” He sheepishly met my gaze. “I see now that I have only caused it.”
I looked down at the letter and turned it in my hands. The wax seal on the back was broken.
“I’m so sorry,” Ollie whispered. “I didn’t know.”
I only nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“I didn’t read the letter until tonight after we returned from our ride at the ruins. I thought that it might possess some insight that would prove the truth to you. But . . .” He shook his head. “I didn’t know, Hanny. Not of my father’s health or of Summerhaven’s circumstance or your feelings for each other. I didn’t know.”
I could only stare at him.
“I’m so sorry, Hannah. I hope one day you will be able to forgive me,” he said, and then he continued past me through the front door.
Standing alone in the entry hall, I rubbed the letter between my fingers. I should join the other women in the drawing room. Georgiana would worry. Amelia too. But I could not bring myself to move in that direction.
Down the corridor, in the direction of the dining hall, came the sound of voices. Deep voices. The men must have finished their drinks.
Knowing I would not be able to enjoy the evening without first reading Damon’s letter to me, I hurried up the stairs and down the corridor to my bedchamber to read it. I sat on my bed and laid his letter in my lap. Was I brave enough to read the contents? Whatever this letter contained, it would surely change the course of my life.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
My dearest love,
It has been four weeks since you left Summerhaven and four weeks that I have been in agony. You told me that if I cared for you at all that I must let you go, but my heart demands otherwise.
First, you must understand one thing. I am in love with you, Hannah. Every beat of my heart, every breath of my lungs, they are yours. I am yours, however unworthy.
From the day you bettered me at skipping stones across the river as a girl to the night you ate frog legs at Lord Rumford’s table, my admiration for you exceeds all others. You see the world not as it is, but as it should be, and you work fearlessly toward that end. You make me want to work fearlessly toward that end. And your brave example, your encouragement to serve my tenants openly, gave me the courage to be the man I always wished to be, regardless of my title.
My whole life I have been loved not for who I am, but for what I am and what I will one day possess. To my great shame, even I am guilty of reducing my identity and worth to my title and possessions. Would God give me the opportunity, I would go back to that day in the portrait gallery when I told you about Father’s failing health and my responsibility to Summerhaven, and I would beg you to be mine, no matter the sacrifice.
But seeing as I cannot, I have worked in your absence to doall I can to secure Summerhaven’s future and win you back. I have sold almost every rug, candlestick, and piece of furniture.My curricle is also gone, as is my pocket watch. I daresay the onlything that remains of any value are my ancestors’ portraits thathang on the walls.
I have limited the number of staff to only the most essential. I have written to family, friends, and foes, begging for their assistance.
But it was not enough to pay off Father’s debts.
I petitioned the government and pled to have the entail on the estate removed so that I might sell a portion of the land and secure the remainder’s future. My request was denied.
You have never known a man more desperate.
And then one day, as I was riding Ares one last time beforehe was to be auctioned at Tattersall’s, an idea came to me. It was something you said, actually. About me having a passion for horses.
Not two weeks earlier, I’d met Duke Maybeck in London. Father had arranged the visit in hopes that I might marry his daughter, Lady Margaret, but it was her father I spent the majority of my time with, discussing his habit of breeding horses. It is a pastime for him, of course, as he is wealthier than the Prince Regent himself, but it is a lucrative one. One that I might undertake in an effort to save Summerhaven.
I raced back to the manor and wrote to the duke, explaining the dire situation and my plan. By the grace of God, he took mercy on me and supplied a loan. Work has already begun on the new stables, and horses are being acquired even as I write. For the first time in weeks, I have hope. I do not know what will become of my efforts, but it is my most fervent prayer that my endeavor will succeed.
As a betting man, I know the odds of this venture prospering are not favorable. But I will never give up trying to do what I can for Summerhaven, for my family, for you.
You may think me a coward for confessing my feelings in a letter, and perhaps I am, but I cannot endure another day without you, my love.
Please write and tell me I will not have to.
If I do not receive word from you, I will let you go, even as you requested, and I will wish you every happiness.
