“They were long months for myself also. And yet, in other regards, they were all too short.”
“How dreadful for you, cousin. On one hand to wish yourself all the time in the world with your father and, on the other, to wish yourself back home again with the woman you love.”
“Indeed, that is true,” Hunter said and looked back towards the empty fire grate once more. “But I have had an inkling these last weeks that something is not well. Felicity’s letters have grown further and further apart, and their content has become ever more impersonal.”
“Impersonal?” Algernon said and seemed to shift in his seat as if he was feeling most uncomfortable.
“In the end, they were not the letters of a young woman to her love, but more like the letters from a sister to a brother. It was simply news, nothing more. But then, I daresay, you shall be able to fill in the rest. You know, of course, why our correspondence began to change.” Hunter felt sure he knew himself. He knew, without even being told, the Lady Felicity Morgan was no longer his; at least not in the way that she had been before he had left for Scotland.
“I am afraid I do know,” Algernon said and turned his head to look fully at his cousin.
“So, are you about to tell me that Felicity has become better interested in another man?”
“Yes, in a manner of speaking.”
“But tell me there is some hope for me. Tell me that my return home will be enough to put things right again. If so, then I shall have my horse saddled now and go directly to her.”
“But Hunter …”
“I shall ride over to Walney Hall this minute and hope that the moment she sees my face, our love for one another shall be returned to her.”
“Riding over to Walney Hall will do you little good, cousin, for Felicity is not there.”
“Then, where is she?”
“She lives now in the very heart of the Duchy of Galcross.”
“Felicity lives at Galcross Hall?” Hunter said incredulously.
He could not begin to imagine why it was that Felicity no longer remained at her father’s home but had chosen instead to live at the fine mansion of the Duke of Galcross. Surely she was not so well acquainted with that family? But perhaps she had been a friend of the Duke’s younger sister at some point in time that Hunter had not known of.
“Yes, she lives at Galcross Hall.”
“As a guest of the Duke’s sister? Ariadne Burton, is it not?”
“Ariadne Burton?” Algernon said and seemed suddenly confused.
“The younger sister of Christian Burton, the Duke of Galcross.” Hunter sought to make things clearer.
“Oh, I see,” Algernon said, understanding the family connection finally. “No, Felicity is not staying as a guest of Ariadne Burton, I am afraid.”
“Then in what capacity does she stay at Galcross Hall?” Hunter said, feeling confused and annoyed in equal measure.
“She stays there as the Duchess of Galcross,” Algernon said and finally tore his eyes away from Hunter’s so that he might look down at his own knees.
“Felicity is the Duchess of Galcross? But that is ridiculous, she is not …” Hunter stopped dead in his tracks; finally, he had realized exactly what had happened. “You mean to tell me, cousin, that Felicity Morgan has married Christian Burton? Whilst I have been away no more than six months, the woman I had intended to marry has married another? Is that what you mean to tell me?”
“In truth, try as I might, I could not find the right words. Forgive me, cousin, for I have gone about this most clumsily. I had thought to write to you at the time, but I could not think of a worse way of doing things. After all, you had enough sadness and concern as you watched your own father waste away before you that I could not, in all faith, have written or sent such a letter.” Algernon seemed beside himself, and Hunter was curiously compelled to put his cousin at his ease.
“And you have done the right thing, Algernon. Such a letter would not have changed things, would it? Unless, of course, you had seen the whole thing coming, and you might have put me in mind to stop it all.”
“I swear to you this day, Hunter, that I did not see it coming. I do not think that anybody saw it coming, and that is the truth.”
“But you must have some of the details, surely,” Hunter said, suddenly keen to know everything, despite the deep, dull ache in his chest.
In the most unusual way, the whole thing seemed like simple, scurrilous gossip; something to be enjoyed over a brandy and discussed at length. Something about somebody else, not himself, and not the woman he loved. Another couple, another family altogether. But, of course, it was not.
“I have them if you want them, Hunter. But really, is the news itself not enough for now?” Algernon looked at him with concern, and it was concern which Hunter knew to be entirely genuine.
“I think I need to hear all of it now, my dear fellow. I think it would be easier to hear it whilst I still do not entirely believe it if that makes any sense at all. If I leave it a day or two for things to settle in and for the truth of the thing to hit me, I shall not be equal to the task. No, I think it far better that you tell me now. Tell it to me quickly, before your words have the capacity to hurt.”
“Very well,” Algernon said on the back of a long sigh. “I shall tell you everything that I know, but please know that I have it second-hand. You see, the first I knew of any of it was the news that the Duke had married.”
“But was it not announced? Surely such a thing would be an event in the county,” Hunter said, marvelling at his curious detachment.
“Ordinarily, yes. The marriage of a Duke would undoubtedly be a very fine affair. And it is its very lack of grandiosity and announcement which makes me realize that the two of them knew the great wrong they were doing you. The entire county knows that you were away in Scotland, and they know why. Your father was much admired in these parts, as well you know, and there was not a person who did not approve of what you did for him in his final months.”
“Indeed, he was much admired.”
“And so, I would say without compunction that Felicity and the Duke of Galcross scurried off like thieves in the night to get married in a most low-key manner so that they might not draw the comment and condemnation of all around them.”
“Christian Burton is a Duke, Algernon, and I doubt he cares a good deal for the condemnation of others. It would be so much water off a duck’s back, would it not?”