Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Peregrine Spencer gave his brother Beauregard, the Duke of Bridgewater, a long glare from across the massive desk that stood like a protective wall erected between them. His hands curled into tight fists in his lap.
“No, I will not return,” Perry stated, his voice laced with irritation as it slipped through his gritted teeth. His eyes locked with an identical pair of steely blue eyes, boring into his. Though he was the younger of the Spencer men, he would not be swayed.
“You will. Your duke commands it. I require your assistance with an estate matter. It has come to my attention that there is something concerning afoot at Bodmin. Read this.”
Perry snorted at the idea of his brother commanding him. How preposterous.
Beau dropped the letter onto the rich, inlaid mahogany surface of the desk, a corresponding stern look marring his features.
His brother swept a hand through his thick dark waves in exasperation.
Maintaining his glare, Perry picked up the papers, only relinquishing to read the fine, simple script on the page.
It was a letter written in haste, that was apparent.
Your Grace,
I struggle to write these words as I know they will be quite upsetting.
We require your presence at Bodmin as soon as possible.
All is not well. I hesitate to write all the details in my letter as I suspect it could be intercepted.
The steward, Mr. Jeffries, is making it impossible for the estate to be maintained to the exceedingly high standards that have long been the tradition of the Duke of Bridgewater.
We have lost good, hardworking servants, and I worry that someone is profiting from the decline.
I have sent this letter to you via my cousin in Lanhydrock to ensure it arrives safely in your hands. I believe my previous letters were left undelivered for reasons I can only assume were nefarious.
Your servant,
Mrs. Rosemary Boots
“Mrs. Boots sent you this? I can hardly believe it,” Perry’s voice came in a breathy whisper. His brows knit together as he contemplated the seriousness of the servant’s words.
His brother replied with a slight nod.
The tightness in Perry’s shoulders eased.
He could hardly be defiant in the face of one of his favorite people requiring aid.
Mrs. Boots always coddled him as a child and treated him like a son, slipping him a sweet treat whenever she caught him hovering around the kitchen.
She provided the warmth and love that were missing from his relationship with his mother, who spent most of her days making great efforts to please his miserable father, to the point that she became a shell of a woman, living only to bow to his many whims, and leaving her children to suffer the elder duke’s wrath.
Mrs. Boots’s tender care and the distance Bodmin provided from under his father’s judgmental gaze and harsh authority made the place a haven for him in his youth.
Perry sighed, scanning the words again to ensure understanding. Dropping the papers back on the desk with the mask of bored nonchalance that he was accustomed to wearing lately, he leaned back into the plush navy velvet chair.
“Seems like the estate manager’s responsibility to me,” he said, turning his attention back to the duke. “I don’t see that I can be of any help.”
Placing his hands on the desk and pushing himself to standing, Beau walked to the window, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed upon the busy street facing his Mayfair home.
“To be frank, rumors about ‘Peregrine the Rake’ are surfacing since you have returned to town, and with good reason. Since Eliza passed, you have been indulging yourself far too much, brother. People are talking. Maybe some time in the country would do you good,” his brother mused.
“Surely you can see that you are…struggling.”
Rolling his eyes, Peregrine sank deeper into his chair, resenting the constant scrutiny and gossip of the ton.
He was a widower escaping a loveless marriage.
Was it truly impossible to believe that he would enjoy his newfound freedom?
After years of being faithful to a wife who could barely tolerate him, who could blame him?
Had they had children to care for or several grand estates to administer, he might have been kept busy elsewhere. This, however, was not his reality. He had a home to care for, though Perry had escaped its confines as soon as he had buried his wife in the ground.
It was hard to conceive of Wildwood being his home, since its walls were soaked with memories of unhappiness.
Thus, he moved closer to the energy and excitement of London for the season.
Why not? He was essentially a bachelor and could do as he pleased.
Coming back to reality with a snort, Perry quirked a smile as his brother turned to face him. “Should I already be looking for my next wife? Curse the thought. Who would object to a widower having a little fun? Absolutely no one.”
Beau shook his head. “No one would object, but it has gone on long enough. You need a purpose. Something to occupy your time. Enough gambling away that fortune your wife left you. Have you even been back to your home since she passed?”
“I’ve let some bachelor lodgings close by. The country air grew too tedious for me. The walls at Wildwood were closing in.” Perry massaged his forehead with the tips of his fingers to release the tension.
Beau blew an exasperated breath. “I’m trying to build a life here. I have a fiancée whom I will be marrying at the end of the season. There must not be a breath of scandal to taint our happiness.”
“Are you happy?” Perry prodded, giving his brother a pointed look.
“I am content. Sarah is lovely. We will build a wonderful life together, of that I am certain.” The huff of breath Beau released told Perry otherwise.
The match had been decided by their father, a parting gift that he had revealed as he was getting his affairs in order.
The young woman had been arranged to marry Beau since his adolescence, and she was at last old enough for the nuptials to take place.
“If it reassures you, the rumors are greatly exaggerated. There is nothing objectionable about seeking comfort while in mourning. Eliza was ill for a very long time, and I was determined to stay with her until the end. Now I am free. And that freedom feeds a gaping hunger within me that I had no idea was there until I left the confines of Wildwood.”
Perry tented his fingers, focusing on his hands rather than evaluating the depth of the emotions he had just revealed.
Imagine his surprise when he realized how trapped he had been, without even being conscious of it.
The cavern of longing that welled within him was breathtaking.
He wondered if happiness was merely an illusion, a dream to chase that was, in fact, a fantasy.
He cleared his throat and straightened his spine.
“You have been lonely, brother. I will not begrudge you the comforts to ease your suffering. I merely ask that you keep your actions more…discreet. At least until Sarah and I are happily wed.”
Perry’s eyes took in his brother, the perfect image of a duke, well-dressed and stylish without being too fanciful.
Serious and focused on bringing the new generation of Bridgewaters into the future.
Though the frightful and cruel duke had been gone for a little over a year now, there was much to do to restore the family name and remove its association with Beau’s predecessor.
A desperate thirst seizing him, he stood, making a direct path to the crystal decanter of port that beckoned him.
He poured several fingers of the ruby-colored beverage into the delicate glass.
The liquid burned a path down his throat, warmth blooming within his chest. How lovely it was to feel something other than regret or emptiness.
“I will do my best. It is a hard path to wander when one hasn’t a goal to reach for.
I would rather dwell in my aimlessness until my purpose in life becomes clear once again.
” Tipping back his glass and swallowing the remainder of his drink, Perry stared at the ruby dot that remained, contemplating a refill.
What reason did he have not to get drunk this early in the day?
He could sleep it off or continue with his moping at the club once he was done with Beau.
He desperately craved the end of this conversation.
“Do you miss your wife?” Beau asked, reaching for a glass and giving them both a serving. Clinking his glass with Perry’s, Beau watched him. Too closely.
The question seemed ridiculous, given the state of his marriage.
Beauregard had no way of knowing of the estrangement between Perry and Eliza.
Any signs of unhappiness had been promptly hidden, the traitorous emotions of loneliness and bitterness quelled to maintain their position in society. Eliza would have been mortified to ever be the subject of gossip. She was the perfect countess, after all.
Perry was reluctant to lie to his brother.
“I cannot truly say I miss her. At times, it seemed as if I hardly knew her. Our marriage was arranged. A transaction which left me titled as Earl of Winchester and much wealthier than a second son could ever expect to be. For that, I am grateful.”
Frowning, Beau seemed to contemplate Perry’s words.
Good. His brother was listening and might allow him to wallow in his misery in peace.
“If you are feeling lost, this task will help you. A purpose. I cannot leave the city right now; I have responsibilities that keep me from absenting myself. I need you to be my eyes and ears and discover if there is any truth to Mrs. Boots’s words.
The situation seems quite dire. As far as I knew, everything at Bodmin was running smoothly, and there was no pressing need to visit.
I have been overwrought with tending to the many estates and responsibilities attached to the title. ”
Perry swirled his glass as he considered.
Some time away from the city would do him some good. It had been a long time since he had visited Bodmin. Painful memories forced him to avoid the place. He wondered if running from his memories kept him from moving on.
From seeking happiness in the future.
“A little time in the country might help you seek other ways to find comfort. It would give the ton time to find a new rake to gossip about,” Beau suggested. “Perhaps you will even find yourself a new wife. Someone to give you what Eliza could never.”
Perry snorted, tossing an impatient glare at his brother. Seating himself back in the plush chair, he glowered. “I don’t think I’m made for marriage. I made a Devil of a mess with my last one,” he admitted. “Why would I want to torture another woman with my presence? Eliza barely tolerated me.”
Beau served himself another glass and returned to his seat across from Perry.
Frowning, the duke blew a breath. “Next time, if the bride is of your own choosing, your marriage might prove more successful. More fruitful,” Beau delivered the last sentence with a cock of his eyebrow and a smirk.
“Perhaps you should focus on your own upcoming nuptials rather than convincing me to undertake a second one. You’re thirty-three and have yet to produce a much-needed heir for the estate.
It appears you have neglected your own duties of late.
” Perry gave a quick laugh and took a swallow of his port.
That would silence his busybody brother.
“I am responsible for this family. Our sister is successfully wed, and it matters to me that you are cared for as well. Easing the pain of your mourning with women, excess liquor, and throwing away money at cards can only work for so long. If you provide me with some assistance, I will leave you alone to your wallowing. Does that convince you?”
Raising his eyes to the ceiling, Perry huffed.
Beau could be rather convincing.
“I will do it for Mrs. Boots, not for you.” It had been nearly a decade since he had set foot on Bodmin estate.
“Excellent. Here are the updated accounts I have received from the steward, where all seems well. Mrs. Boots’s letter tells another story.
Your discerning eye and intelligent mind will quickly discover what is going on, I’m confident.
” Sliding a stack of papers in Peregrine’s direction, Beauregard grinned like a fool.
The duke had accomplished his goal by maneuvering Perry until he agreed.
“Thank you for blessing me with this task, Your Grace.” Perry gave a slight nod.
Beau rolled his eyes at the use of his title.
With a heavy sigh, Perry rose. He ran a hand through his hair, which was a touch too long according to society norms. The gossips loved to prattle on about how he cared little for his appearance anymore. His shirts were often undone at the collar, giving him a careless mien. It made sense.
He didn’t care about anything anymore.
His reputation was quickly disintegrating.
The marriage he had made to please the demands of his rank and to set himself up for the future had been an abject failure in most ways, save that it had left him with a fortune and some property to his name.
Lately, he could barely bring himself to enjoy his wealth and appreciated his loyal, hardworking servants for maintaining his grand home in Hampstead Heath while he indulged his misery.
It surprised him that Bodmin would have any issues, given his brother’s high standards for hiring servants and maintaining the appearance and quality of their status in the higher echelons of society.
He was reluctant to return to the haunting memories that lingered like ghosts floating about the luxurious estate.
Perry despaired revisiting the past, awakening regrets and bitterness that he had suppressed until now.
Another failure to add to his long list.
His fist tightened around the papers as he strode toward the door.
A visceral stab of longing passed through his body and he braced himself against the pain. For a man who had everything he could possibly want at his fingertips, it irked him to never possess the one thing— the one person—he desired most.
Well, he did have her. The sweetest, most tempting woman he could ever have imagined. Memories of their time together plagued him—reminding him of how close he had once come to true happiness. Or at least what he imagined happiness must feel like.
But they were only passing flashes from a time long ago.
They were not real.
The way she came into his life and left so quickly reminded him that happiness was a curse and that it was fleeting. He was doomed to never feel such perfect bliss again.