Chapter Twenty-One
You’ve Got Mail
Dearest Mayhem,
I regret I must begin this letter with distressing news, but you were, in fact, mistaken about my abilities to make the best choices.
Yet again, I listened to my hopeless heart instead of my logical mind and am the worse for it.
Why can people not just be who they are?
Why must they present one face to the world and keep their true nature hidden?
And why must I fall for the deception every time?
I have always considered myself educated and relatively intelligent.
But perhaps I am nothing more than a simpleton after all.
I cannot help but feel na?ve in the worst sense of the word.
…
Confused and despairingly yours,
Millie
My dearest Millie,
Do not despair. You are the farthest thing from a simpleton.
Do not attribute faults to yourself that rightly belong with others.
Their failings are not yours, and seeing the best in people, believing them to be as good-hearted as you yourself are, is not a flaw but something to be admired and aspired to.
I pray you do not allow the poor behavior of whatever rotten sod has hurt you to change your beautiful innate nature.
Whoever this person is does not deserve you or your attention.
And certainly not the affections of your hopeful (never hopeless) heart.
My only word of advice is to perhaps proceed with caution…
when a man reveals himself for who he truly is, believe him.
Few people, I have found, can keep their true nature hidden for long.
Regarding your choices, perhaps I cannot speak with perfect knowledge on them.
Choosing me with whom to correspond does show some lack of good judgment (and I hope you know I say this in jest with a poor attempt to bring some humor to the subject and a smile to your lips).
However, in all sincerity, I can say without an inkling of a doubt, responding to your first letter was perhaps the single best decision I have ever made in my life.
No matter the outcome, I will never regret that choice and will always consider it to be a shining moment in my life.
As are you. Always.
Mayhem
My dear Marquess,
You are mistaken in my lack of judgement.
For sending you that first letter is one of the few choices in which I am confident.
You are my best choice. Your letters, your friendship, your championship and support of me, have been a godsend to me.
I will always be grateful for your kindness, friendship, and advice.
And your ability to make me smile even on the darkest of days.
Thank you for your kind words. As always, they have cheered me greatly.
And you are correct. This person showed me who he was the first moment our paths crossed, and I stupidly allowed myself to forget that.
As they say, a leopard never changes its spots.
I had forgotten that in the flurry of easy smiles and wicked jests.
Until those smiles were suddenly, and without cause, no longer returned.
I will not be so careless in the future.
…
With resolve and determination,
Your Marchioness
Hugo put down the newest letter from Millie, a frown furrowing his brow.
With each letter he’d received, a suspicion had been growing in his mind.
Even more so lately as he had grown to know Adaline Girard better.
The similarities in their humor, their manner of speaking, their views on the world were remarkable.
Still, that was not in and of itself proof that they were one and the same. But now, with her most recent letters…
He scanned the latest one again, the conviction growing. She had been upset. And he’d received that letter only days after the evening he’d spoken with her at the theater. The evening he’d failed to return her smile.
What if…
“What has put that sour expression on your face, Brother?” Arthur asked, sauntering into the library where Hugo sat near the fireplace. He glanced down at the letter in Hugo’s hand and raised his brows as he dropped into the seat opposite him. “Another missive from your mystery Millie? Bad news?”
Hugo’s frown deepened. “I…am not quite sure.”
Would it be bad news if they were one and the same?
In some ways, it might prove quite a relief.
For as much as he hated to admit it, he had grown rather fond of Miss Girard.
Perhaps more than just fond, as confounding as that thought was.
And it was proving more and more difficult to reconcile his feelings for her with the feelings he knew of a surety he had for his Millie.
A woman who for all intents and purposes only existed on paper. Which was admittedly a problem.
But if they were the same woman…
“I think,” he said to Arthur, “there is at least a possibility that Miss Girard and Millie are the same woman.”
Arthur gaped at him. “I…you…are you certain?”
Hugo snorted. “Of course not. I have never been more uncertain of anything in my life. But…the more I think of it, the more it fits.”
Arthur cocked a brow. “Does it fit? Or do you just want it to fit?”
Hugo frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
Arthur just chuckled. “You know exactly what I mean, dear brother. If these women were one and the same, it would solve a great deal of problems for you.”
“Would it? Or would it create even more?”
Now Arthur frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I would not have to choose between them, true. But the greatest problem with Millie has always been that she may be someone of whom the family would not approve. Someone I would not be allowed to marry, even if that were my choice. Right now, that is merely a possibility. But if she were, indeed, Miss Girard, that possibility would become a certainty. Mother and Father would never allow a match between us. They have told me repeatedly that they do not trust Miss Girard and her motives and would never support a match.”
Arthur just shook his head. “Leave it to you to fall in love with not only one, but two…or possibly just one…of the only women on the planet our parents would deny their blessing to. Any other woman, they would be thrilled to see you wed to. But you—what are you doing?”
Hugo had stood and was striding toward the small writing desk in the corner. “I am doing what I should have done weeks ago.”
“Hugo…”
“There is only one way to put all this speculation to rest once and for all. I must know.”
Not only to ease his mind and heart, but also so he could begin to strategize if necessary.
He could not choose between Millie and Adaline.
He didn’t even know where to begin doing such a thing.
If they were one and the same, that would solve a great deal of problems. And heartache.
Though it would create a great deal more as well.
If they were indeed two separate women…well, he would deal with that when he discovered the truth of it.
And there was only one way to find out for sure.
They had begun to talk about it. It was time to ask in earnest.
He was already writing before Arthur made his way over to glance over Hugo’s shoulder.
“You are suggesting you meet? Are you mad?”
Hugo chuckled at that. “Yes. Yes I am.”
Arthur just shook his head. “What will you do if they are not the same woman?”
Hugo let out a deep sigh. “I do not know.”
“Very well, what will you do if they are not. If Millie and Miss Girard are one and the same?”
Hugo shook his head with another chuckle, the sheer absurdity of the situation beginning to make his head spin. “I do not know.”
But there was only one way to find out.