Page 14 of A Match Made On Duchess Square

“Oh, Gwen. Not necessarily. My own wife passed before my very eyes and…” He let out a ragged breath. “And that was it. She was gone. My heart ached. I wanted more. A sign. A touch. Anything that I could hold on to. As much as I would have wished it, her spirit did not slip through my body or leave some parting memory.”

“But I have heard of people feeling such things,” she insisted, for this was the only shred of hope she had left to believe that Andrew was still alive and might someday return to her.

“Wishful thinking on their part, their mind playing tricks on them because they desperately want to keep a connection to their loved one.”

“Well, I believe it,” she said with an upward tilt of her chin. “Forgive me if I cannot be as logical as you. But let’s not quibble about this when the hard facts cannot be disputed. How are Andrew’s missing files to be explained? Or his family’s vague responses? How can I ignore our betrothal and move on while so many questions remain unanswered?”

Milbury stared at her, concern filling his eyes. “I doubt he expected you to wait for him all these years.”

“Perhaps, but it is my decision to make. Is it not?”

“This does not feel right, Gwen,” he said, his lips pinched as he pondered all she had told him.

“I agree. Something is terribly wrong. Have I not been saying this very thing? Nothing about his disappearance makes sense. And before you call me daft and start spouting plausible explanations, let me tell you that I have heard them all and do not believe any of them.”

“I do not mean to be cruel, but if he is alive…”

“He is.”

“Set aside the loss of his military records, for this is just paperwork and there were tens of thousands of men serving during the war. Any harried clerk could have lost his enlistment records. But if he is alive, as you insist, then why has he made no attempt to contact you? What if he made a conscious decision to walk away from you?”

“From me? From his family? From the life he had built up until his enlistment in the army?” She gritted her teeth. “He wouldn’t.”

“I am not suggesting he is a bounder. Quite the opposite—he might have done it for purely heroic reasons. If he was as capable and honorable as you say, the Crown might have asked something more of him.”

“What are you saying?”

“The records of an earl’s son do not simply vanish. Even if he was just a second son, he was a man of significant importance as a male heir in the earl’s bloodline. More important, and I say this as a father, I would turn over every stone to find my son if he had gone missing. I cannot believe his father would remain quiet and not conduct his own search. In fact, he would look high and low, offer a reward printed in every London newspaper, turn Parliament upside down and demand inquiries.”

“But the Earl of Hornsby hasn’t done any of this. Do you think he knows what happened to Andrew?”

Milbury nodded. “Yes.”

“Then why would he not tell me? Why would no one tell me? Am I not considered family? I was to be Andrew’s wife.”

“The Earl of Hornsby may be under orders to keep silent from the Crown itself.”

“Could he not have given me a hint? Anything to allay my concerns?”

“Not if he were under royal command.”

She frowned. “Is this something usually done? Surely others have served as agents for the Crown and not been required to cut all ties with their loved ones. Nor would their existence be purposely removed from military files.”

“I don’t have the answers, Gwen. Perhaps he is an elite agent taking on the most dangerous assignments for the Crown.”

She cast him a doubtful look. “Assignments that continued six years beyond the end of the war?”

He gave her hands a light squeeze. “I am not suggesting any of this is fair to you. Were I in Andrew’s situation, I would have found a way to reach you. It was cruel of him to leave you in doubt. Perhaps he asked his father to say something to you, or left a letter for him to deliver to you.”

“His father has always been cold to me. But I cannot believe he would refuse to convey a message to me or purposely keep a letter hidden from me, especially if it was one that would end our betrothal.”

“These are just suggestions. Frankly, all of them are troubling. Were I in Andrew’s shoes, I would have married you before going off to war. But that is me, and this is what I did before going off to fight. I wed Jessica because I wanted her to have the protection of my name.”

“Well, Andrew was only the second son and did not believe he would ever inherit his father’s title. I wish I had pressed for our marrying, but it is too late to reflect on it now, when there’s nothing to be done about it. This is my fault.”

“Why are you assigning blame to anyone, especially yourself?”

“I could have insisted on our marrying, but his family was overbearing and I thought living under their roof and his father’s rules would not be pleasant for me. Too confining. My own family life was quite comfortable. My father was ridiculously softhearted and would let me get away with anything,” she said with a laugh. “Not that I was rebellious, but I saw no reason to give up the freedom I had in my own home. I see now that it was a mistake.”