Chapter 38
“My wife has abandoned me,” Lewis said, flinging himself into the chair by the fire. “And worst of all, it is my own fault.”
Morington raised his glass of brandy in a commiserating toast. With a heavy sigh, Lewis clinked his glass against the one his friend held. “Have you heard anything from Reeds?” Morington asked.
“Nothing from Elias,” Lewis replied. “I suppose he has taken Bridget to the countryside. That is where she went during her first scandal, away from prying eyes.”
“Look,” Morington said. “You are my friend, and it pains me to see you like this. Why not go to her?”
“I would not know what to say,” Lewis said, finishing his glass of brandy in a single swallow. “These four days without her have been agony. I did not realize how much I—I want her. Now, she is gone.”
“I am so sorry.”
A lump rose in Lewis’s throat. “I love her.”
Those three words lingered in the air, a declaration that he never thought he would make about anyone, much less his reluctant and spirited wife.
That was just like him, wasn’t it? He had found love and not even realized it until Bridget was gone, driven away by his own refusal to show her an ounce of affection.
“I would do anything to get her back,” Lewis added quietly.
“Then, you should go to her,” Morington said.
Lewis shook his head. “If Bridget wanted me, she would come to me. She has not, and I cannot ignore her wishes.”
Morington finished his drink and glanced at the clock. He started. “We have been talking for too long! You are quite late to meet the Dowager Duchess.”
Lewis glanced at the clock, confirming that his friend was correct. He was a half-hour late to meet his grandmother, but Lewis made no move to rise. His whole body was weighed down, his muscles too tired to move.
“I do not want to go,” Lewis said.
“I know,” Morington said. “But you must.”
Lewis slowly shook his head. “You misunderstand me. I will not go at all.”
Morington’s eyes widened. “You have not missed a visit with your grandmother in years.”
“I know.”
“You will upset her, Wheelton. I know that you are disappointed and reeling, but you must go to your grandmother!”
“And tell her what?” Lewis snapped. “That I have lost my wife, the one person who my grandmother likes?”
Morington sighed. “You cannot hide that your wife is gone, and I am certain that Her Grace would rather you visit her regardless of what you might tell her.”
“No,” Lewis said, pouring himself another glass of brandy. “Besides, I will probably do her more good if I stay away. Otherwise, I will just make her life worse, like I did with Bridget.”
“That is untrue, and you know it.”
Lewis grunted. A fissure of anger shot through him. Morington was being wholly reasonable, but Lewis really just wanted to bemoan his present state to a sympathetic ear.
“Your grandmother cares for you,” Morington said. “She will be sympathetic.”
Lewis was not so confident that she would be. Even if she was, Lewis suspected that her kindness would only make him feel worse about himself. He did not deserve anyone’s gentleness after he had driven Bridget away forever.
Morington climbed to his feet and fixed his friend with a stern look. “You are helping no one by lingering around here and brooding over the matter.”
“You are welcome to leave if you find my company to be so bothersome,” Lewis said.
“You know that I do not. I am only trying to help you,” Morington said. “I realize that you are angry, but that does not justify being unkind to me.”
Lewis rubbed his face. “Apologies.”
“You could not have said that less sincerely if you had tried,” Morington said. “You need to visit your grandmother, at least.”
The sound of a person clearing their throat interrupted the conversation. Lewis tilted his head back, spying St. Clair standing in the doorway. The butler bowed. “Your Grace, you have a visitor.”
It could not be Bridget. She would never let herself be introduced like that. Perhaps it was her brother come to defend his sister’s honor?
“Who is it?” Morington asked.
Lewis scarcely dared to breathe.
“The Dowager Duchess,” St. Clair said. “Shall I show her to you?”
For a heartbeat, Lewis simply stared at the butler, certain that he must have misheard. “My grandmother?” he asked.
“Indeed, Your Grace.”
“She has not left her townhouse in over a decade,” Lewis said, baffled. “How can she be here?”
“I do not know, Your Grace,” St. Clair replied.
“Bring her here,” Lewis said.
He still thought that St. Clair must be somehow mistaken, for Lewis’s grandmother could not have possibly left her house. If anything, she might send somewhere to him, but she would never come herself.
St. Clair bowed. “At once, Your Grace.”
The butler hastened away, and Lewis looked morosely across the room. It could not be his grandmother. St. Clair must be mistaken.
“Well,” Morington said. “It seems as though you cannot avoid confrontations today.”
“Evidently not.”
Lewis straightened his spine and tried to adopt his usual unbothered expression. Even if he felt as though the floor had been pulled out from under him, Lewis could at least look as if he was in control of himself.
“This is…unexpected,” Morington said.
“Yes.”
Lewis stood, weariness sinking down into his bones. If it was truly his grandmother—and Lewis supposed it must be—her nerves would be utterly frayed. She would likely descend into a fit unlike any he had ever seen if she had not already. Maybe he ought to send for Mrs. Clove or the doctor.
His muscles tensed at the sound of light footsteps in the corridor. St. Clair appeared first, sweeping into a deep bow. “Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Wheelton,” he announced.
Lewis’s grandmother entered the room. She trembled, and her eyes darted anxiously about the room, as though she anticipated some invisible danger emerging from his study. Lewis found himself with nothing to say, as he gazed at her, the woman who had refused to leave her townhouse for over a decade.
“Your Grace,” Morington greeted, bowing. “It has been some time since we spoke.”
She nodded sharply. “I felt the—the situation required a deviation from my usual routine. Well, in a manner of speaking.” His grandmother’s gaze settled on Lewis and stirred a fire of guilt within him. “You did not come see me at the usual time, so I was left with no other recourse.”
“I am sorry,” Lewis said as he approached her.
She wrapped her arms around herself, as though it was a struggle simply to keep herself standing.
“Please, sit,” Lewis said, gesturing to the chair he had just vacated.
When she did not move, Lewis stepped forward and gently took her elbow, guiding her to the chair.
Morington cleared his throat. “I shall give you some privacy,” he said.
“There is no need to leave on my account,” the Dowager Duchess said, lowering herself into the chair.
Lewis and Morington exchanged a glance. Despite her insistence, Lewis’s grandmother was a fragile woman, and it would be best not to tax her overly.
“Our conversation was nearly finished anyway,” Morington said. “And I have failed to make him see reason. Maybe you will have better luck, Your Grace.”
She hummed. “We shall see.”
With a wry smile, Morington left. Lewis glanced at his decanter of brandy, a drink which was decidedly unsuitable for ladies. Still, it would be better than nothing.
He poured a glass and offered it to his grandmother. “For your nerves.”
His grandmother took the glass, clenching it so tightly that her knuckles turned bone-white. She took a heavy swallow and coughed. “I do not know how you manage to drink this.”
Lewis filled his glass and sat again, tension tracing every line of his body. His grandmother had not come to talk about spirits, and she would soon get to the reason for her visit. “It is something of an acquired taste.”
A small voice in Lewis’s head considered the possibility that Bridget might have spoken to his grandmother and persuaded her to come.
“I want to apologize,” his grandmother said.
Lewis had not expected that. He let out a little disbelieving laugh at the absurdity of her apologizing. “For what? If anyone should apologize, it is me. I did not come for my daily visit, and that was selfish of me. I knew it would upset you.”
His grandmother shook her head. “No,” she said. “I do not deserve your apologies. I have insisted that you visit me at the same time every day for years, and you have done so faithfully. But I see now that was too much to ask you or any man.”
“I do not mind visiting you,” he said, even though that was not always true.
His grandmother waved a dismissive hand. “That is irrelevant. It was too much for me to ask. Being near Bridget has made me realize just how much time you have spent protecting me.”
A dull ache settled in Lewis’ chest. Not only had he driven Bridget away, but he was depriving everyone of her presence. His grandmother had rejoiced in Bridget’s company. Now, his young wife was gone, and his grandmother was deprived of one of her very few companions.
“It is long past time for you to put your own life first,” his grandmother continued. “I came here today, so I could tell you that you no longer need to visit me every day. It will be difficult, of course, but I will learn to manage.”
“Grandmother…”
She smiled warmly. “I love you so very much. Your parents would be proud of you.”
Lewis shook his head. “No. You see; my life belongs to Bridget. These few days without her have been agonizing. How can I live my life when I have done such an awful job of keeping her happy?”
“Love changes people,” his grandmother said. “But we all need a challenge sometimes.”
“Bridget is certainly a challenge,” Lewis said, smiling.
“Then, you must do whatever you can to find her,” his grandmother said. “You must let her know how much you love her.”
“Morington said something earlier,” Lewis said. “And you are both right. I had hoped to show Bridget that I respect her, so I hesitated. I thought she would seek me out. But the truth is that I cannot know what she thinks or feels unless I ask her.”
His grandmother nodded. “Yes.”
“Now, I just have to learn where she is,” Lewis said. “I know that her brother is with her, but they might be anywhere.”
“Or not!” Morington declared, as he entered the study. “Apologies for intruding. Wheelton, I decided to wait until you were finished speaking with Her Grace. I read the news while I waited.”
Lewis raised an eyebrow, uncertain why the scandal sheets would have been brought to his house. He guessed that Bridget read them. “And?” Lewis asked.
“And the Duchess of Greenway has given birth to a healthy baby boy,” Morington said. “If your wife is anywhere, I would guess she is at Gerard’s townhouse, tending to her sister.”
Lewis’s eyes widened. “That would explain why Reeds left so suddenly, too!”
Morington nodded. “Yes.”
“Then, you must go to her at once,” Lewis’s grandmother said.
Lewis bolted to his feet, his body humming with newfound energy. He had not felt so alive since she left. A small, traitorous thought that she might not want to see him echoed inside his mind, but he mentally shoved it aside.
Bridget had wanted affection from him, and he would give her all the affection she wanted and more. Whatever it took, Lewis would find a way to make amends and win her love again.