“Thank you. But why did you come so late? It is almost ten. Or is that usually a time to conduct business in the country?”
Mr. Percival shook his head. “Not at all. But I have been sent on business to Edinburgh by His Grace, I am afraid. I will not return for a fortnight, and wanted to deliver the papers before then so you do not have to wait. I know you are eager to make your way back to London.”
Daniel sighed. “I may not depart as soon as I had planned. Some developments have come up that will delay my departure. Perhaps indefinitely.”
Mr. Percival pressed his lips together and frowned. It was clear he had something to say, but did not dare. Daniel narrowed his eyes.
“What is it? You look as though you have something on your mind.”
The man shook his head. “It is not my place.”
“Mr. Percival, please. Speak frankly with me. You are one of the few who does not look upon me as though I am a monster or have committed some grave offense to these people.”
The man sighed. “I heard about your desire to marry Miss Bridget Hughes. I… I am not convinced of the idea. I feel as though you may be ill-advised to do so.”
“And what makes you say that?”
The man shook his head. “I am not comfortable in making an assessment but it simply seems… Well. I cannot help but fear that our conversation about your father might have had something to do with this sudden decision. Your lack of understanding him. Your desire to not be like him. Your fear, perhaps, of walking in his path.”
“Indeed. It is a part of it. I’ve decided that I am better suited for a life of quiet contemplation, without the interference of ebbing and surging emotions. That is what I need in order to ensure I do not fall into the same habits as he, the same traps.”
“So, you wish to marry someone you do not love, while setting aside someone you do.”
Daniel crossed his arms. “What do you know of whom I love?”
The old man raised his hand. “Nothing at all. I only know from our last conversation, and my conversations with His Grace, what your intentions are. And I am concerned. I liked you very much when you were a boy, even though you might not believe it to be so. I would not want you to make a mistake. I would not want you to marry for the wrong reasons when you do not have to. It can lead to…” he shook his head. “It is not my place. Forgive me.”
“No, please. Mr. Percival, do not fret. I appreciate your candor. It is rare that anyone speaks to me of such matters.” He paused. “It can be lonely.”
“I suppose I feel a sense of duty, as I know Mr. Scott would advise you of the same, were he living. He and I were close, as you know. Anyhow, speaking of Mr. Scott... I came across these when clearing out your former steward’s study at his home. They seem to be letters from your father addressed to Mr. Scott. I thought you might like them back. There might also be something of interest in them for you.”
Daniel looked up at once. “You’ve read them?”
The steward raised his hands as if defending himself. “Heavens forewent, no. I would never. But as I said, Mr. Scott was a close confidant of your father and you indicated you did not know much of him.”
He placed a small stack of letters down before getting up.
“I will take my leave now. You are quite right, the hour is late. Please forgive my intrusion. And my forwardness in making my opinions heard. I know it is not considered proper…”
This time it was Daniel who raised one hand. “Please, there is no need. I appreciate your words and concern. And I very much appreciate these.” He pointed at the letters before Mr. Percival bowed and exited the room.
Alone in the study that had once been his father’s, Daniel picked up the stack. It was bound together with twine and he undid it, flicking through the stack. There were perhaps ten or so notes. He recognized the fanciful handwriting as his father’s. He’d seen it on many of the estate books and papers.
However, these were of course not official documents. These were his personal, innermost thoughts. He looked at the stack in his hand.
At last, there is the opportunity to see into the mind of the man who has been nothing but a mystery to me all of these years.
He rose, clutching the letters in one hand as he headed out into the library.
While the library at Carlton Manor was nowhere near as large or beautiful as that at Branigan, he still found a sense of peace there. He enjoyed sitting on the window sill that overlooked the woods which separated his estate from that of Penelope’s father. He smiled as he remembered their childhood days, before his parents and her mother had passed.
They used to sit in the window each night, he in the library and she in her mother’s study, and each would light a candle. Even though they could not see the light in the window of the opposing manor, they knew it was there. It was their ritual to say goodnight. He sighed as he stood at the window.
What would she say if she knew I still lit a candle at Eton, night after night? What would she say if she knew that on occasion I still do so today?
He shook his head, aware that such thoughts had no place in his mind. It was precisely because of thoughts such as this that he had to marry someone like Bridget. Someone suitable, kind, and pleasant. Someone who did not set his heart alight with passion.
“My Lord! I wasn’t expecting you.” Alistair’s voice called out and he turned. He was seated in the armchair in front of the fire. It roared now that it was evening and colder outside. Daniel smiled at the sight of his friend. He was dressed in trousers with a comfortable coat on top. The initials AF were stitched onto the breast pocket. He remembered the coat, a gift from Alistair’s parents this past Christmas. They’d given him a matching one with his own initials. The two would make a great show of wearing them in front of his mother who’d beam each time.
