‘I would he had. He has taken up valuable space for far too long,’ Lord Huntingly muttered, steering the wilting Miss Amelia down the corridor.
‘Not at all!’ Josephine reassured, throwing Lord Huntingly a dark look. ‘Sir Francis scratched himself with my letter opener, and the gentlemen were merely jesting, as they will. Now,’ she smiled kindly as they reached her bedchamber door, ‘do rest, dearest, and I will convey your warmest wishes to Sir Francis.’ Then she closed the door firmly on Miss Amelia’s dazed face.
‘Congratulations, Miss Fairfax, impressively done,’ Lord Huntingly murmured as they retraced their footsteps back to her own bedchamber door. ‘I trust you are not too unsettled by your ordeal?’ he added.
Josephine turned to look at him in the moonlight, reading every tiny muscle in his face.
‘What did Eliza do?’ she asked quietly.
The question had been haunting her since George’s mention of regrets, and she could no longer ignore it any longer. Huntingly’s face shrouded instantly, darkening with a pain she could almost feel.
He inhaled. ‘Miss Fairfax, I came tonight,’ he muttered, ‘to give you this.’ He reached into his pocket and withdrew a letter which he pressed into her hand. ‘I cannot pretend to be rehearsed in matters of the heart,’ he swallowed, ‘but you were correct in much of what you said in the library, especially in your accusation of secrets.’ He pressed her fingers again as she made to interrupt. ‘I hope this letter goes some way to explain my caution, and that perhaps, one day, you will forgive me.’ He paused as a shadow flickered across his face. ‘And as for Eliza… she cared too much.’
Josephine waited until Lord Huntingly’s footsteps had receded before making her way to the window seat, where the moonlight was still bright enough for her to read. Then, ignoring the thump of her heart, she unfolded his letter.
Dear Miss Fairfax,
You gave me much to think on tonight, and I hope this letter goes some way to answer some of your charges.
Firstly, I know I should begin by offering a sincere apology for my behaviour at Ebcott Place, but I cannot bring myself to regret it all and, in truth, I hope you do not either.
On that day, you also claimed that I abandoned the Davenports’ social soiree and disappeared for a month. You are correct that I was angry, and for that I apologise, but please let me offer some explanation that will help explain my absence.
You are aware of the duel that prompted my decision to leave the country a few years ago, but not that it was the result of my father’s death. My opponent was my best friend of many years standing, and that morning will always be the worst of my life. I will not go into the circumstances that led to my challenge, except to say they were ill-founded, as I discovered in Italy.
I will never forgive myself for his death, which was at his own hand and yet, I believe, my instigation. It is for this reason that I have been endeavouring to secure his inheritance on his mother, which should go some way to honouring my father’s wish. In truth, Mrs Pellham has been my priority since Italy. She refused my direct assistance when I returned, so during my more recent absences, I have been attempting to find a distant cousin. Fortunately, I have now discovered him and he has secured a living on Mrs Pellham, which should take care of her needs for the rest of her life.
Lastly, at our meeting at Ebcott I asserted that ‘if I had my way, I wouldn’t marry at all’. Believe me when I say this is only because I would not inflict my history on anyone, given a choice. Yet, the truth is you changed me at our very first meeting, and I have found myself feeling differently– selfishly perhaps– and of desiring a life that is lost. And still, I am increasingly mindful of your happiness and will not impose a union that is so clearly as unwanted as ours.
It is therefore with a heavy heart, but noble intention, that I release you from our engagement. I will seek an audience with Thomas first thing in the morning, and hope the knowledge that I will not pursue a Fairfax matchunder any circumstancewill bring you some much deserved peace.
Above all, I wish you a future as bright and blessed as you deserve.
Your devoted servant always,
Alistair
ChapterTwenty
Josephine’s Bedchamber; Duels and Broken Hearts
The small hours
Josephine read and reread the letter several times before finally crawling into bed. It had been such an exhausting evening, and all she could think was that she’d finally got what she wanted– a release from the engagement without threat to Matilda– and yet it felt far from right.
Lord Huntingly’s letter had been entirely unexpected, and now it seemed that, while he had pursued Pellham abroad and witnessed his death, he’d also realised his friend was innocent of his father’s death. And then there was the fact he’d been searching for a male relative to secure Pellham’s inheritance and take care of his mother– the actions of an honourable gentleman, not a villain. Finally, there was his claim that he’d beendesiring a lost life, which could mean so many things and was difficult to reconcile with the dark character she’d assumed.
Which left Eliza.
‘And as for Eliza, she cared too much.’
His words whispered through her thoughts like petals catching the light from a dying sun. Were they the words of an enemy? A friend?A loverperhaps?
And why did the thought that he might yet harbour feelings for Pellham’s sister fill her with such despair? Hadn’t she wanted this?
Her questions tumbled endlessly until she fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of duels, secrets and broken hearts.
* * *
