Chapter 9 #2
He took the moment when they both laughed again to examine his friend, and he was concerned with what he saw.
It had been six months since he had last visited Sir Moses, more of a recluse now than anything else, shut up as he was here in Wandorne.
It was almost impossible to believe that they were the same age, give or take a few months.
Bitterness had aged Sir Moses; aged him in body and spirit, and Luke felt nothing but pity to see it.
“A strange predicament? I’ll say.” Sir Moses broke off as a footman stumbled into the dark room from the bright corridor, placed a bottle of brandy and two glasses – there seemed to be nothing else his friend rang for, Luke thought – and poured out a very large measure into each.
“Tell me all about it, I could do with a new story.”
Luke took a gulp of the brandy, a large breath, and launched into his story.
It felt strange at first, sharing Adena with another – but then he knew of no other close friend for more than thirty miles, and he knew that if he did not tell someone soon, he would go utterly mad.
He told Sir Moses about the walk, the woman in the water (“My God!”) and the temptation to hide the truth (“I knew you would get yourself into a tangle somewhere.”).
He told him about the fire and the shelter (“You never were one for the outdoors!”) and the fish, which generated the biggest laugh that he had seen in Sir Moses for over two years.
But when he came to the end of the evening, he hesitated. He had told her, even though he had not technically promised, that he would not tell a soul about that particular part of their encounter. What sort of a gentleman would he be if he did not keep to his word?
But Sir Moses did not need that part of the story spelled out to him. “Well, I suppose you did what any of us would have done in the circumstances. You sly old dog, why am I not surprised?”
Luke coloured. “It was not like that. Adena – Miss Garland – means a…a great deal to me.”
Sir Moses stopped smiling, and leaned forward. “Ah. That type of trouble.”
Luke squirmed slightly in his chair. “Normally I am having this conversation the other way around – ‘tis other people coming to me with their love woes.”
His friend raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm. And what do you normally tell them?”
Luke’s gaze moved from his friend, and glanced around the room.
There was no better word for it than dilapidated – or perhaps, unloved.
If he had not found Sir Moses sitting here, and knew so well of his love for books, then he would have guessed that this room had been uninhabited for months, if not years.
“Luke, you have dug yourself into a hole, but ‘tis only an inch deep.” Sir Moses’ voice recalled his attention, and he saw that his friend was smiling wryly. “Do you not see that you have the easiest answer in the world?”
“No, “replied Luke leaning forward eagerly. “What should I do?”
Sir Moses leaned forward in turn, and lowered his voice to a whisper, as though he was revealing a deep and terrible secret. “Find the girl, and marry her.”
A feeling of despair sunk into Luke’s stomach. “I cannot do that.”
“Why not?” Sir Moses leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “If you have found even a modicum of happiness with this woman, then I advise you to cling onto it for dear life. Do not…do not make the mistake that I did.”
A dull look had now surfaced into Sir Moses’ eyes, and Luke reached out and gripped his hand. “Moses – ”
“Luke,” returned his friend fiercely. “You have no reason not to marry her, so why are you here? Why the trouble?”
Luke swallowed. “If she had wanted that, she would have…I mean, she gave no sign that – ”
“Did you tell her that you loved her?” Sir Moses interrupted, a sharp look on his face.
Luke opened his mouth, shut it, and shook his head.
“God’s teeth man, she is not a mind reader!”
Luke laughed bitterly. “I thought that she would want it done properly, you know, ask her father first and then – ”
“You had hardly gone about it properly up until then, why bother now!” Sir Moses exploded, looking quite deranged. “She must have expected you to speak, after you had shared…well, you know. To say nothing after such an encounter was tantamount to a rejection from you!”
Luke’s eyes widened. It all seemed so obvious now, now that Moses said it, but at the time he had been so focused on decorum, on propriety.
“I was so concerned about doing the right thing,” he said slowly, “that I did the wrong thing.”
Sir Moses shook his head, and rose. “You are not the first, and you certainly will not be the last. Come on.”
Luke rose in a daze. “Where are we going?”
“Going?” Sir Moses gave a bark of a laugh, and put his arm around his friend as he walked him to the door. “We are going to find this woman of yours, of course.”
It had taken over half an hour of persuasion for Adena to receive permission from Mr and Mrs Kerr when she had requested to visit the local town.
She could understand their hesitancy for letting her out of their sight after her disappearance three days ago – and they had promised her parents to keep an eye on her.
Adena was also irritatingly aware that they had been requested by her parents to encourage her suit with the odious man from London.
She had hoped that Rowena would have been on her side, but she had vaguely suggested that she would be willing to accompany Adena, and that seemed to reassure her parents. Surely Miss Garland could not go missing again if she was with their daughter.
Adena had been thrilled at the idea of getting back to a town, and with Rowena by her side. She had taken her reticule with a few shillings in it, and had hoped that the two of them could peruse the latest bonnets, purchase a few ribbons, and enter their favourite coffee house for the latest news.
But on arriving into town, Rowena had muttered about an errand she must perform, and had wandered swiftly down a side street that Adena did not know.
She had paused there, irresolute for almost a full minute, before drawing herself up and deciding to leave her.
If Rowena wanted to be alone, she would respect her wishes.
But it simply was not the same when she was on her own.
The bonnets were dull, the ribbons overpriced, and far earlier than Adena had expected, she found herself stepping through the door into the most fashionable coffee house in the town, and settling herself down onto a comfortable chair with the latest paper before her.
The aroma of the coffee revived her spirits slightly, and determined to make the trip at least partly worth the effort of driving out here, she placed her order for coffee, sipped it delightedly when it arrived, and picked up the paper.
The Regent was splashed across it, as he always was, though Adena was not really interested to see whether the editor had decided in favour or against his latest antics.
She skipped over the international news too, finding the news of war too depressing for a heart already forlorn, and started to gaze down the advertisements.
There was a new way of curling one’s hair that looked highly suspicious in her mind, and one company appeared to be underselling fabric at a ridiculous price. Adena pursed her lips. There must be something wrong with it, there was simply no such thing as good quality muslin at that price.
And then her eye was caught by something on the opposite page. For a moment, she could not entirely register what it was that had focused her attention – and then she gasped.
It was her name. Not her full name, just Adena, and the advertisement ended with Marquis.
Hands shaking so that the paper rustled noisily, Adena lowered it down onto the table and took a deep breath before she attempted to read it again.
On the hunt for the marooned Adena
Do you know a Miss Adena, recently missing for one night?
Do you know a Miss Adena with flaming red hair and sparkling green eyes?
Do you know a Miss Adena with astronomical knowledge, a fiery wit, and the ability to start fires?
If you do, a reward will be given to you for her full name and address.
She is owed an apology for stupidity and a very important question.
Contact the editor and ask for the Marquis.
Adena found that she was barely breathing, and took a hasty gulp.
Well. She could never have predicted such a bold move, even from Luke. Her heart warmed at the very thought of his name, a name that she had vowed she would never speak again.
But how could she not? Her eyes scanned the advertisement once more: She is owed an apology for stupidity and a very important question.
Could that mean…? Her heart tried to prevent hope rising, but it was impossible. What a brave thing he had done, placing that there – opening himself up to ridicule perhaps, for there were only a few young marquis who would be searching to apologise to young ladies.
An apology for stupidity. To be sure, that was right: he had been stupid, to mislead her about the island. But then, so had she. Her own stupidity was of a different nature: she would not listen to him, she had not allowed him to explain.
Could he love her? Could there be any doubt after reading such an advertisement?
Ripping out the page of the newspaper and earning scandalised looks from the other patrons of the coffee house, Adena stuffed it into her reticule and made for the door.
She had a letter to write.