But he had realized the alternative argument too late. He should have arrived at that conclusion the moment Madeline had poured out the truth about her mother. Madeline had said she did not want to begin a life with him based on a lie. Honesty. It was yet another admirable quality possessed by the lady of his heart.
He did not blame her for wanting nothing to do with him. “Bloody hell.”
“Good morning, Robert,” his mother said, joining him by the window. “I do not approve of that sort of language, but for once I concur. My question to you is, will you stand still and allow that wonderful woman to slip through your fingers?”
“I have no choice. She abhors the sight of me.”
“Dear boy, we always have a choice.”
Was it his imagination? Had the sky darkened and plunged the world into shadows of gray? He shook his head. No, there was not a cloud in the sky. It was his mood. “Madeline told me…”
The duchess interrupted his words with a lift of her hand. “Robert. I know it all. Roseline and I were childhood friends and I love her like a sister. Roseline fell in love and thought her gentleman loved her in kind. Her life has not been easy and yet she raised a brave, intelligent, and thoughtful daughter.” She shrugged. “Perhaps it is best that you let Madeline go. She deserves a man who appreciates the woman she has become.”
“You mock me.” He cleared his throat. “I was a fool.”
“Most men are.”
He did not know the story of how his mother and Roseline had become friends. Perhaps he never would, and in truth it did not matter. People had a right to their secrets. Her mother was also good friends with the servant, Mary, and cared about the fate of the villagers. She, like Madeline, did not judge. They accepted.
“How is it that women tolerate us, then?”
“My darling boy, because the majority of you are good of heart, and when you love, when you truly give yourself, it is forever.”
“How could a woman like Madeline forgive me?”
“You will never know unless you try.”
He kissed his mother on the cheek. “I’ll saddle my horse. She could not have gone far.”
“Your horse is saddled and waiting for you.”
“You knew I would come to my senses.”
“I had hoped,” she said with a laugh. “Now, off with you.”
Robert descended the stairs to the courtyard two at a time. True to his mother’s word, Trinity was saddled and waiting for him. Robert nodded his thanks to the groomsman, took the reins, mounted, and spurred his horse in the direction Madeline’s carriage had gone.
What would he say to her?
When Madeline had told him her mother’s secrets and their expectation for Madeline to marry a man with a title, he had responded with some nonsense about being the eighth Duke of Conclarton. She had merely shaken her head when he had made that declaration. And rightly so. A title did not speak to a person’s character. It was not who they were. What a person did with his life, the people they cared for, those they loved, how they treated people, those were the things that mattered.
His horse’s shod hooves churned up mud and debris as it closed the distance. The first time he had chased down Madeline’s carriage seemed a lifetime ago. His heart had known even then that she was his soulmate. He had wanted to ignore his feelings. Thank goodness he had family and friends who knew him better than he knew himself.
He ducked under a low-hanging branch, and it occurred to him that he was forever chasing a carriage that contained Madeline. He had done so on their first meeting, and then again when her driver, Mr. Tinker, had been killed. The first time was to thank her for her generosity in helping someone she had assumed was in need of help. The next had been to save her life. This time it would be to beg her forgiveness and plead with her to marry him.
Poets wrote sonnets about what happened when love was spurned. They claimed a person could die of a broken heart. He would not die if she refused his offer, of that he was certain. But neither would he live a full and happy life. Life would hold little meaning. It would be something to be endured, as each day blended into the next in an unending chain of events.
Nothing had been the same since their first meeting. She had unsettled his world and tilted it on its axis. Building on his changing perspectives during the war, she had challenged him to see things and people in a new light. Before Madeline, he had spent his life adhering to the rules of proper behavior, and of who one should love. He would not go back to being that person who walked through life as though wearing blinders.
Her carriage appeared in the distance. He spurred his horse into a gallop and closed the distance. Within minutes, he reached her carriage and Trinity galloped alongside the coach, matching the team stride for stride. But she might refuse him again. Nothing was certain about Miss Madeline Mercer. She had refused him and had every right to do so again.
But as he had told his mother, he had to try.
“Madeline,” he shouted, as he drew abreast of the carriage. His heart thundered to the beat of his horse’s hooves. “There is something I wish to ask.”
Mr. Welsh leaned from his bench seat to investigate the commotion, then turned toward Robert. Eyes wide with recognition, he pulled on the reins to slow down the team of horses.
Madeline leaned out the window. Although she was a vision in green and gold, her eyes were red-rimmed as though she had been crying. “Mr. Welsh. Please. Do not stop. There is nothing I wish to say to this man.” She ducked back inside as though the matter had been settled, and the carriage resumed its original pace.
