Chapter 19 #2
‘I say, tone it down, Fred,’ Henry admonished, rolling his eyes. ‘No need to enact a Cheltenham tragedy just because you weren’t invited. Can’t be invited to everything. A man must invite who he wants to his own duels.’
At this, the drooping Edward nodded wisely, just as Matilda appeared in the doorway.
‘Honestly, Fred!’ Matilda yawned. ‘Why are you shrieking like you’re being forced to gallop, right outside my bedchamber door?’ She peered curiously at the number of people in Josephine’s bedchamber. ‘Is it a party? Why is Amelia on the floor, and why is Sir Francis the colour of your nightgown?’
At this fresh intrusion, Josephine felt her last remaining shred of patience dissolve.
‘Henry, Edward and Fred, kindly escort Sir Francis from my bedchamber this instant!’ she ordered.
‘Matilda, please tie up Dashton’s scratch before we have a second fainting invalid, and Lord Huntingly, I would be grateful if you would help me to take Miss Amelia back to her bedchamber?
She is recovered but would undoubtedly benefit from being in the comfort of her own bed. ’
This time and to her intense relief, no one objected, and even when Henry wrung Lord Huntingly’s hand and thanked him for the best fight he’d seen in a very long while, he didn’t linger.
Finally, Josephine was left with Lord Huntingly and Miss Amelia, who was sitting bolt upright with a look of stark bewilderment glued to her face. It was only then that Josephine noticed she was dressed for a journey – and felt her low opinion of Sir Francis sink even further.
‘Put your arm around my shoulder,’ Josephine instructed, ‘and Lord Huntingly will assist on your other side… That’s it, and now let’s find your bedchamber, shall we? I’m sure you’ll feel perfectly well once you’ve had a rest…’
‘But I was supposed to be…’ Miss Amelia paused and bit her lip. ‘I heard a noise and thought perhaps … Sir Francis had been fatally wounded,’ she finished in a whisper.
‘I would he had. He has taken up valuable space for far too long,’ Lord Huntingly muttered, steering the wilting Miss Amelia down the corridor.
‘Not at all!’ Josephine reassured, throwing Lord Huntingly a dark look.
‘Sir Francis scratched himself with my letter opener, and the gentlemen were merely jesting, as they will. Now,’ she smiled kindly as they reached her bedchamber door, ‘do rest, dearest, and I will convey your warmest wishes to Sir Francis.’ Then she closed the door firmly on Miss Amelia’s dazed face.
‘Congratulations, Miss Fairfax, impressively done,’ Lord Huntingly murmured as they retraced their footsteps back to her own bedchamber door. ‘I trust you are not too unsettled by your ordeal?’ he added.
Josephine turned to look at him in the moonlight, reading every tiny muscle in his face.
‘What did Eliza do?’ she asked quietly.
The question had been haunting her since George’s mention of regrets, and she could no longer ignore it any longer. Huntingly’s face shrouded instantly, darkening with a pain she could almost feel.
He inhaled. ‘Miss Fairfax, I came tonight,’ he muttered, ‘to give you this.’ He reached into his pocket and withdrew a letter which he pressed into her hand.
‘I cannot pretend to be rehearsed in matters of the heart,’ he swallowed, ‘but you were correct in much of what you said in the library, especially in your accusation of secrets.’ He pressed her fingers again as she made to interrupt.
‘I hope this letter goes some way to explain my caution, and that perhaps, one day, you will forgive me.’ He paused as a shadow flickered across his face.
‘And as for Eliza … she cared too much.’
Josephine waited until Lord Huntingly’s footsteps had receded before making her way to the window seat, where the moonlight was still bright enough for her to read. Then, ignoring the thump of her heart, she unfolded his letter.
Dear Miss Fairfax,
You gave me much to think on tonight, and I hope this letter goes some way to answer some of your charges.
Firstly, I know I should begin by offering a sincere apology for my behaviour at Ebcott Place, but I cannot bring myself to regret it all and, in truth, I hope you do not either.
On that day, you also claimed that I abandoned the Davenports’ social soiree and disappeared for a month. You are correct that I was angry, and for that I apologise, but please let me offer some explanation that will help explain my absence.
You are aware of the duel that prompted my decision to leave the country a few years ago, but not that it was the result of my father’s death.
My opponent was my best friend of many years standing, and that morning will always be the worst of my life.
I will not go into the circumstances that led to my challenge, except to say they were ill-founded, as I discovered in Italy.
I will never forgive myself for his death, which was at his own hand and yet, I believe, my instigation.
It is for this reason that I have been endeavouring to secure his inheritance on his mother, which should go some way to honouring my father’s wish.
In truth, Mrs Pellham has been my priority since Italy.
She refused my direct assistance when I returned, so during my more recent absences, I have been attempting to find a distant cousin.
Fortunately, I have now discovered him and he has secured a living on Mrs Pellham, which should take care of her needs for the rest of her life.
Lastly, at our meeting at Ebcott I asserted that ‘if I had my way, I wouldn’t marry at all’.
Believe me when I say this is only because I would not inflict my history on anyone, given a choice.
Yet, the truth is you changed me at our very first meeting, and I have found myself feeling differently – selfishly perhaps – and of desiring a life that is lost. And still, I am increasingly mindful of your happiness and will not impose a union that is so clearly as unwanted as ours.
It is therefore with a heavy heart, but noble intention, that I release you from our engagement. I will seek an audience with Thomas first thing in the morning, and hope the knowledge that I will not pursue a Fairfax match under any circumstance will bring you some much deserved peace.
Above all, I wish you a future as bright and blessed as you deserve.
Your devoted servant always,
Alistair