Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Caspian, did you hear what I just said?” Ironvale asked with a tone that spoke to his exasperation.Caspian did hear what his best friend said, he just wasn’t so certain that he cared.
He knew that he should care. He knew how important it was to his own sense of self-worth that he cared.
He knew that was he the man who he thought, then caring was exactly what he would be doing.
I am not who I thought… and that is a reality that I am still trying to come to terms with. Everything I believe of myself, that I have told others, is a lie.
“If now is a bad time?” Ironvale pivoted.
Caspian was standing by the window of his office, looking outside and over the garden with a sense of longing that he refused to explain.
He had never cared about the garden before, and he had hardly once taken note of the damn thing.
It was a part of his estate, it existed to give beauty to his home, there to be admired and remind all those who visited him of his wealth and status. But that was it.
Now, to look at it, Caspian found himself unable to look away. He was transfixed by the beauty found in that garden, wondering how he had never noticed it before.
He supposed that was the irony in all of this, that something so perfect could be right under his nose this whole time, only to go unnoticed entirely…
“Now is as good a time as any,” Caspian said. A final moment taken, his stare transfixed on the garden, and he turned around, forcing it from his mind. Just as he forced away the feelings the garden provoked… again, for reasons he knew but refused to admit.
“Are you sure about that?” Ironvale looked uneasy. “I can return later if –”
“No,” Caspian spoke over him. His stomach cramped with the simple mention of being left alone… “Let us be about it. Seeing as you are here.” He exhaled and walked to his desk where he sat down. “Tell me what you have learned.”
Ironvale watched Caspian with that same unease he had done earlier. He clearly knew that something was wrong, he just wasn’t sure if he should say something to that effect. After all, Caspian was not one to show his emotions, or to be spoken to about them. But with how he strangely was behaving…
“Well?” Caspian barked when Ironvale continued to watch him in silence.
Ironvale shook his head to clear it and took a seat across from him.
“I did as you asked,” he explained as he relaxed into his seat.
“For days now, I’ve had men scouring through legal documents, business contracts, even going so far as to visit tenants that we presumed to be involved in some way.
It has been…” He exhaled as if a great weight still sat upon his shoulders. “… a rather arduous task.”
“And?” Caspian asked, not wasting time with the obvious desire for compliments and thanks that Ironvale was searching for.
Ironvale looked at him flatly. “A thank you might be nice.”
“I prefer to save such things for after the task is done.”
“Fair enough,” Ironvale snorted. “It will surely bring you untold amounts of pleasure then, to learn that your instincts were correct. Donmere’s hate for you extends beyond the embarrassment you caused him.
He is, for all intents and purposes, a broken man in the throes of dragging you down before his last breath is taken. ”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
“He is destitute,” Ironvale said. “And this little vendetta he has against you is his way of saving face.” He snorted.
“Or perhaps he is just being petty? The man hates you, and as his world is about to end, I suppose he can’t stomach the man he deems responsible for it all escaping without some sense of vengeance being brought. ”
Caspian nodded his understanding. The news, while not unexpected, was vindication of what Caspian had known but been unable to prove. And now that he had said proof… I am not sure what I will do, only that Donmere will live to regret it.
“The question now remains, what you are going to do about it,” Ironvale asked as if he could read Caspian’s mind. “His efforts to marry his daughter to you were his final play, and seeing as you snuffed that venture out, he has every reason to hate you.”
“It is himself that he should hate,” Caspian said darkly. “For putting himself in such a position in the first place.”
“The point remains, until you do something to stop him, Donmere will continue to come after you. And seeing as he has nothing left to lose…” Ironvale raised an eyebrow. “Might I suggest ending him before he ends you?”
“And how do you suggest I do that, exactly?” Caspian asked.
Ironvale shrugged. “That is what I am here for, is it not? Give me an order, and I shall see it through. Assuming revenge is what you want?”
“Should I not?”
“Perhaps,” Ironvale said carefully. “Or perhaps you might wish to leave him be? The final swing from a dying man and all you need do is dodge it and let nature take its course. There is no need to hit back, is my point.”
“He insulted me,” Caspian said. “He insulted my wife. I will not let that stand.”
“So, vengeance it is.”
“I prefer to think of it as justice.”
Even before the unfortunate incident between himself and Thalia occurred, Caspian had been furious with Lord Donmere. The man had insulted him, brought disrespect onto his name and title, and deserved nothing less than total and complete annihilation.
What frustrated Caspian, however, that such feelings that were well deserved, brought him little joy.
I know Donmere deserves to pay. What I don’t know, is if I care whether or not he does…
Something had changed in Caspian these last few days. He understood well enough the reason, while refusing to acknowledge them at the same time.
This last week had been the worst of Caspian’s life. Left alone as he was, free to ponder and think about what had happened between himself and Thalia, he felt his resolve for vengeance diminish as his own self-loathing and disgust increased beyond comprehension.
His home was empty. Worse than that, it felt empty like it never had before.
He wandered the halls of his home in a state of disrepair, trying his best not to take note of how alone he felt, how isolated from the world he was, and how saddened he had become.
He forced his thoughts from Thalia, refusing to admit why he was so upset with her leaving.
I do not care. This was never a real marriage. It was never meant to be more than a contractual obligation. I was not meant to fall for her, I was not meant to care for her, and I was certainly never meant to love her…
He did not love her -- he refused to admit that such a thing was possible. And as for why he felt so rotten? That was because of Lord Donmere only, because the man had insulted him, and needed to be dealt with accordingly.
Frustratingly, whenever he considered how he would take vengeance upon the repugnant lord, he grew bored and uninterested.
He would remember Thalia’s words, how certain she was that Lord Donmere’s accusations means nothing if there was no truth in them, and he would retch at their truth because deep down, in the pit of his soul, Caspian missed his wife more than he believed was possible.
This vendetta against Lord Donmere was a distraction and nothing more. For now, it would do, because it was all he had to hold onto. But what would happen when Lord Donmere was dealt with? Where would Caspian go from there?
If only he knew…
“Lord Donmere is impoverished.” Caspian forced his thoughts back into the room.
“And that is why he was so determined to see his daughter marry me. And that is why he has now painted a target on my back. It has nothing to do with honor or expectation. And it certainly isn’t personal… at least not as he sees it.”
“What are we thinking?” Ironvale asked. “A smear campaign?”
“Precisely,” Caspian said. That sort of revenge—elegant, clear, but unprovable—would have filled him with understated delight.
Until recently. “I want it known to all and sundry why Lord Donmere hates me. Why he has spoken out against me and Thalia. And why nothing he says is to be believed or listened to.”
Ironvale considered the charge. “It will ruin his reputation, once it is learned.”
“Good.”
“I just wish to make sure…” Ironvale clicked his tongue. “It is one thing to have dung flung in your direction. But to fling is back might appear petty.”
“It is not petty to correct the record,” Caspian said. “And if Donmere did not wish for his state of affairs to get out, he should have kept his damn mouth shut.” He cocked an eyebrow at Ironvale while ignoring the way his stomach twisted. “Anything else?”
Ironvale shook his head. “Just making sure you know what you are doing.”
The following two days were an exercise in character assassination.
Despite Caspian’s reputation being brought into question, he was still a duke, and he was still highly respected among his friends and peers.
More than Donmere was, anyhow. For that reason, he was able to spread word of Donmere’s bankruptcy without fear of being questioned or having his motives brought into dispute.
He sent letters to various business associates; both his own and Lord Donmere’s.
He visited friends and acquaintances with the sole purpose of informing them of Lord Donmere’s financial burdens.
He learned of who Donmere owed money to, who he was in business with, and anyone else connected to the repugnant lord, and then made sure that they too knew of the man’s state of disrepair.
By the time Caspian was done, he dared to say there was not a soul in all of England who did not know that Lord Donmere was bankrupt, and that he should be watched out for, treaded lightly around, and avoided at all costs.
For a short time too, the distraction these actions brought Caspian was enough that he was able to forget that which he suffered from.
As he rode all over London and the south of England, as he wrote letters, responded to others, and even supped with various peers, the true nature of his circumstances shifted to the back of his conscience so that his most sour mood lifted… if only slightly.
Sadly, it was little more than a flimsy bandage for a bullet wound, and Caspian was aware that was had he been in a happier state of being, than he might not have put in nearly so much effort in destroying Donmere as he did.
And all the while, he could not escape that voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that none of this should have been necessary in the first place. Were his feelings for Thalia true, it did not matter what people said.
Perhaps that was why the whole thing felt as wrong as it did?
It was three days after Ironvale first paid him a visit that Caspian returned to his manor with the job well and truly done. His vendetta against Lord Donmere was finished, the damage was done, and all that was left now was to await the results.
Sadly, that was when reality struck home.
He trudged inside his empty manor. He walked up the steps and listened to the creak of each one taken. He sulked down the long hallways, which now felt longer somehow, narrower, and certainly more silent. He slipped into his little office, sat behind his desk, and then… nothing.
The manor felt empty and lifeless in ways that Caspian had refused to contemplate until that moment. There was a hole inside of him that he had filled for a short time with vengeance but now felt hollow because vengeance was not the meal that this hole required for satisfaction.
Caspian knew well why he felt so unsatisfied. He knew why the manor felt so empty. And he knew why the specter of sadness that sat upon his shoulders refused to leave him… in fact, as he sat in that little office, it grew worse and more harrowing than he could believe.
He had tried to ignore it.
He had tried to deny it.
He had tried to forget it.
Now, Caspian was forced to face the stark reality of his situation like never before. And as to what he learned when he did?
He missed Thalia like he could not fathom. The manor was empty without her. He was empty without her. She had filled that hole inside of him, even when he had not known it needed filling, and now that she was gone…
I was wrong about everything. What I wanted from this marriage. How I felt about her. What our future might have held, was I willing to accept it. And worse still, it is too late to do anything about it.
He sat at his desk, staring at the open doorway, a smile touching his lips as he imagined her walking through it, only for that smile to fade because he knew that she would not be doing so. In fact, he doubted he would ever see her walk through that doorway again.
For so long, Caspian had rallied against his feeling. He had denied them. He had even grown angry at them. Now that he was starting to understand how wrong he had been, he realized the fool that he was.
Caspian had not wanted to marry Thalia, and he had not wanted to fall in love with her. But he had done, he knew it now, and as wonderful and freeing as that realization should have been, it brought only pain and misery and utmost despair.
Caspian lost his chance at happiness, and now he was destined to be alone. Worse, he deserved it.