“Lord Donmere is impoverished.” Caspian forced his thoughts back into the room. “And that is why he was so determined to see his daughter marry me. And that is why he has now painted a target on my back. It has nothing to do with honor or expectation. And it certainly isn’t personal… at least not as he sees it.”
“What are we thinking?” Ironvale asked. “A smear campaign?”
“Precisely,” Caspian said. That sort of revenge—elegant, clear, but unprovable—would have filled him with understated delight. Until recently. “I want it known to all and sundry why Lord Donmere hates me. Why he has spoken out against me and Thalia. And why nothing he says is to be believed or listened to.”
Ironvale considered the charge. “It will ruin his reputation, once it is learned.”
“Good.”
“I just wish to make sure…” Ironvale clicked his tongue. “It is one thing to have dung flung in your direction. But to fling is back might appear petty.”
“It is not petty to correct the record,” Caspian said. “And if Donmere did not wish for his state of affairs to get out, he should have kept his damn mouth shut.” He cocked an eyebrow at Ironvale while ignoring the way his stomach twisted. “Anything else?”
Ironvale shook his head. “Just making sure you know what you are doing.”
The following two days were an exercise in character assassination.
Despite Caspian’s reputation being brought into question, he was still a duke, and he was still highly respected among his friends and peers. More than Donmere was, anyhow. For that reason, he was able to spread word of Donmere’s bankruptcy without fear of being questioned or having his motives brought into dispute.
He sent letters to various business associates; both his own and Lord Donmere’s.
He visited friends and acquaintances with the sole purpose of informing them of Lord Donmere’s financial burdens.
He learned of who Donmere owed money to, who he was in business with, and anyone else connected to the repugnant lord, and then made sure that they too knew of the man’s state of disrepair.
By the time Caspian was done, he dared to say there was not a soul in all of England who did not know that Lord Donmere was bankrupt, and that he should be watched out for, treaded lightly around, and avoided at all costs.
For a short time too, the distraction these actions brought Caspian was enough that he was able to forget that which he suffered from. As he rode all over London and the south of England, as he wrote letters, responded to others, and even supped with various peers, the true nature of his circumstances shifted to the back of his conscience so that his most sour mood lifted… if only slightly.
Sadly, it was little more than a flimsy bandage for a bullet wound, and Caspian was aware that was had he been in a happier state of being, than he might not have put in nearly so much effort in destroying Donmere as he did.
And all the while, he could not escape that voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that none of this should have been necessary in the first place. Were his feelings for Thalia true, it did not matter what people said.
Perhaps that was why the whole thing felt as wrong as it did?
It was three days after Ironvale first paid him a visit that Caspian returned to his manor with the job well and truly done. His vendetta against Lord Donmere was finished, the damage was done, and all that was left now was to await the results.
Sadly, that was when reality struck home.
He trudged inside his empty manor. He walked up the steps and listened to the creak of each one taken. He sulked down the long hallways, which now felt longer somehow, narrower, and certainly more silent. He slipped into his little office, sat behind his desk, and then… nothing.
The manor felt empty and lifeless in ways that Caspian had refused to contemplate until that moment. There was a hole inside of him that he had filled for a short time with vengeance but now felt hollow because vengeance was not the meal that this hole required for satisfaction.
Caspian knew well why he felt so unsatisfied. He knew why the manor felt so empty. And he knew why the specter of sadness that sat upon his shoulders refused to leave him… in fact, as he sat in that little office, it grew worse and more harrowing than he could believe.
He had tried to ignore it.
He had tried to deny it.
He had tried to forget it.
Now, Caspian was forced to face the stark reality of his situation like never before. And as to what he learned when he did?
He missed Thalia like he could not fathom. The manor was empty without her.Hewas empty without her. She had filledthat hole inside of him, even when he had not known it needed filling, and now that she was gone…
I was wrong about everything. What I wanted from this marriage. How I felt about her. What our future might have held, was I willing to accept it. And worse still, it is too late to do anything about it.
He sat at his desk, staring at the open doorway, a smile touching his lips as he imagined her walking through it, only for that smile to fade because he knew that she would not be doing so. In fact, he doubted he would ever see her walk through that doorway again.
