He wished she hadn’t come down. He bent his head and murmured, “Thank you all. I hope I’ll see you shortly.”
“Good luck,” Katherine whispered, and came down to squeeze his hand. “And know how much you are loved.”
He blinked at the stinging in his eyes as he lifted his sister-in-law’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Thank you, Katherine.”
She stepped away, eyes glittering with the same tears as were in the eyes of the other ladies. Morgan could bear the looks no longer and swung up on his horse. “Let’s go,” he grumbled, his voice rough.
He rode away, desperate not to look back. Within seconds, he was flanked by Brighthollow on one side, Robert on the other, and Donburrow was behind him. He waited for them to speak, to lighten the mood, but no one said a word and the silence was gentle and supportive as they rode the short way through Brighthollow’s estate.
It was a beautiful place, one he had come to know and love in the time he’d been here. Morgan tried to take it all in as he rode. Their path at present went through a leafy, forested patch that meandered toward a hill in the distance. They crested it and down in the valley below, Morgan saw three riders waiting for them beneath a lone tree and a stream.
“Gareth and his second, along with the doctor, I suppose,” he murmured.
Robert pulled up beside him, his mouth a grim line as he stared down. “Shall we review the plan?”
“You’ll ride out to meet his second and tell him I would like to offer my apology. Just as I suggested in my letter.” Morgan shook his head. “I hope he’ll hear me out and that will put an end to it.”
“If he doesn’t?” Brighthollow asked.
Morgan swallowed hard past the sudden lump in his throat. “Then I suppose I owe him his satisfaction.”
Robert pivoted. “His lover betrayed him, but you didn’t know who she was. You didn’t wrong him on purpose. It was never your intent.”
Morgan patted his brother’s arm. “Intent is not the same as result, though. I was imprudent, as I often am. It resulted in harm to a friend. That is the end of the conversation. Now let’s ride down. It’s time to settle this.”
He could tell Robert had more to say, but Donburrow wedged his mount between them and his gentle hand on Robert’s silenced him. He twisted toward Morgan and signed,“We’re with you.”
Morgan carefully signed out,“Thank you.”Then he rode down the hill in front of the rest.
Gareth was watching him. Morgan had been drunk the last time they met face to face, as he didn’t count the attack in the garden. Now he was sober and he could see the lines of emotion on his old friend’s face. The pain, the loss, the betrayal. Gareth had been stewing on this, probably since the last duel was thwarted. And suddenly Morgan wasn’t so certain he wouldn’t fire if the opportunity arose.
Fear gripped him, but he pushed it aside and swung off his mount. One of the three men came forward, sweating and nervous as he extended a hand. “Are you Mr. Banfield?” he asked.
Morgan nodded. “I am.”
“Dr. Shirley,” the man said. “And now I shall go over to this lovely stream and see if I can spot some fish. You’ll fetch me if I’m needed.” He inclined his head to the dukes in attendance and hustled off, leather medical bag in shaking hand.
Brighthollow and Donburrow stepped away, as well, and Robert turned toward Morgan. “I wish I could talk you out of this. The brother in me wants to save you again. To stop you like I did before. But…I am proud of who you are, Morgan. Of the responsibility you’re trying to take.”
“Thank you,” Morgan whispered.
His brother’s breath was shaky as he left Morgan and headed for the middle of the field. Gareth’s second joined him there, and the two men talked. Morgan didn’t recognize the second. It might have been a new friend. He hoped it was. It seemed that Gareth needed that.
After a few moments, Robert returned and his mouth was grim. “The second, a man named Barton, says he isn’t certain Covington will hear your apology, but he is relaying the message regardless.”
Morgan pursed his lips. He’d been so sure he understood the situation. So perfectly certain of himself. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He’d spent his life cocksure and proud, never doubting his ability to seduce or convince or even deceive if it served his purposes.
Now his chickens had come to roost. He couldn’t say he didn’t deserve them. And whatever would happen next.
Gareth looked across the expanse at him and then headed forward, shoulders back. Morgan’s heart leapt, and he glanced briefly at Robert before he moved to join his former friend in the center of the empty space.
As they met, he held out a hand, but Gareth folded his arms and simply glared instead of taking it. “What do you have to say?” he grunted.
Morgan drew a long breath. He’d prepared for this moment. His statement had been crafted to be eloquent, emotional, pleasing. But now that he stared at this man who he’d called friend, as he thought about all he had to lose if he failed today…he threw away the prepared speech.
“Gareth,” he said softly. “I know I wronged you.”
“Do you now?” Gareth grunted, clearly unmoved by the beginning.
