Chapter 3
Chapter Three
It was only a few days’ ride to Bodmin. Of course, a man of his status could have made use of the Bridgewater fleet of luxury carriages to arrive at his destination, but Perry refused such comforts.
He welcomed the pain as he mounted the horse that morning, his body weary from a sleepless night at a noisy inn and long days in the saddle.
The air had changed; the faintly sweet scent of turned earth and lush fields ripe with crops, made him indulge in a few deep inhales that were already turning his mood.
Though he would never tell Beau, the country air filled him with a lightness he hadn’t felt in ages.
The separation from the ills of the city, the dark underworld that begged for each ounce of coin and dignity one was willing to relinquish, was strengthening.
His rakish phase had been short-lived, but it had been healing.
To be free. Not surrounded by the pall of disdain, and later by the lingering illness which plagued his wife.
As a second son, Eliza had always perceived him as the lesser man.
Her father, the Earl of Winchester, had been desperate to link his family to the Bridgewater dukedom.
The prestige and status provided by his family’s legacy. Not him.
Perry and Beau were raised knowing their roles in society. To uphold the family name, enhance their property holdings, and gorge on more wealth than one could ever enjoy in a lifetime. With great pain, Perry had toed the line. Even when life had presented him with an alternative.
Tugging on his horse’s reins, he guided Mercury, his black thoroughbred, down the road that would at last bring them to Bodmin.
It was time to forget the possibilities that never came to fruition.
All he had was reality. Perry would be the equivalent of a spy in his brother’s household, trying to uncover what suspicious activity had been transpiring underneath the duke’s nose.
He chuckled, feeling like a fool.
His brother should have investigated the mystery himself. Alas no. Like an assassin, his brother had set his sights on him. Perry’s restlessness and misbehavior motivated Beau to create a diversion. Send him to the country to allow the rumors to die down. As if more isolation were what he required.
Beauregard was a pleasure killer.
Under the duke’s gaze, there was little time for fun. There were many duties and responsibilities to which he must attend.
The muddy, pockmarked road showed signs of the rain that had fallen over the last few days.
Mercury did his best to dodge the holes and traps where he would get stuck.
Perry patted his horse, appreciating the time they had been able to spend together on this journey.
The only one who could tolerate his gloomy moods and not require him to change his behavior in any way, Mercury was a good companion.
Perry’s pulse quickened as they approached the path that would turn off toward their neighboring estate.
Fermoy. He knew the land almost as well as he knew each hill and dip, each field and fence of his own.
A copse of trees on either side of the road hid the stately country home, but he knew it was there.
His heart could see what his eyes could not.
His body reacted to the closeness of the memories, his heart seeming to still in his chest, as though waiting for something or…
someone. He blinked away the sudden onset of emotion.
Tears? Surely not. It had been almost a decade since he had set foot on that estate. Her estate.
Clearing his throat, Peregrine continued on the road, the trees providing welcome shade from the blinding afternoon sun, which made his ride both pleasant and sweaty.
Arriving at Bodmin fully soaked would have made a less than impressive impact on the servants he hadn’t seen since those perfect summer days he had enjoyed so long ago.
His desire was to be as intimidating as possible until he discovered what exactly was going on.
With the right bearing, the servants would spill their secrets and hopefully reveal the truth of what was happening on the estate.
A delicate breeze danced through his hair as his chest hollowed out.
Perry closed his eyes against the onslaught.
In his mind, he could still hear the soft sound of her laugh dancing over the blades of grass and see the sparkle in her warm, honey-brown eyes.
He had spent countless hours watching her at first, studying the slope of her nose, the sweet curve of her mouth, the warm cheek he loved to feel in the palm of his hand.
Though they had only known each other for a short time, she became important to him.
A friend, and eventually… more. If it didn’t hurt so much, he would visit her in his memories more often. But the loss had been devastating.
A corresponding tightening around his heart reminded him not to venture too long into the past; it would only lead to more drink, more careless affairs, more indulgence. Anything to numb the pain. Anything to purge his mind of her image.
Giving his head a shake, Perry opened his eyes, once again alert and living in the present.
This was his life now. He had a duty to fulfill, and he would, even if he thought his brother had sent him on a fool’s errand.
The road to his family estate was close; he recognized the dip in the trail, the trees growing denser on either side of the road.
A noise in the brush drew his eye to the edge of the cluster of trees. Perhaps a deer had wandered close to the road.
Stopping the horse, he listened.
Silence wove between the trees, unbroken by even the sound of a bird.
Frowning, Perry urged the horse to continue. Mercury’s ears twitched, as though still searching for the source of the noise. Perry reached down to pat him, hoping to calm the startled horse, then straightened in the saddle.
The air stilled around them as a sharp crack resounded through the air, stopping Perry’s breath in his lungs. Fire shot through his shoulder, and he looked down at the source of the pain. A hole in his jacket.
Perry blinked, the reality of the danger he was in colliding with the loud ringing in his ears. He had been shot. There was no time to contemplate what had just occurred.
The horse leaped into the air with a terrified squeal.
Darkness crept into his field of vision as he dropped to clutch Mercury’s neck for dear life.
This was how he was going to die. Shot in the road like a common thief.
His limbs turned as weak as jelly as the horse bolted.
With his face buried in his horse’s neck, he hadn’t the energy to guide the animal, even if he could calm him.
Warm blood oozed from his wound, dripping almost unseen onto the horse’s glossy black coat. His blood. With a shuddering inhale, Perry prayed someone would find him.
It would be most dreadful to die without anyone knowing where he was.
For a moment, he welcomed death, knowing she would be waiting for him on the other side.