Edward put his hands on his cane and leaned on it. “That might be a good idea.”
***
The day of James’ hanging was dreary even by London standards. Edward pulled on his coat and hat with a calmness that he could not quite explain. He looked at himself in the mirror and then made his way downstairs. Augustus had left a few days’ prior to join his family in southern England. Edward could not blame the man for that.
As he approached the square where the execution was to take place, Edward saw the gallows, and he felt coldness in his stomach. The morning of his execution came back to him in flashes, and there was a tremor in the hand that he held his cane with. The ache in his leg was manageable, and he just pretended that the tremor was non-existent.
Even his scar seemed to be aching at the sight of the tall wooden structure. The crowd had already gathered, and Edward looked at the eager people with something akin to disgust. He wondered how many such events these people had attended.
When James was finally led up to the noose, the crowd shouted at him. Edward watched James shuffle up the steps and stumble a bit as the man behind him shoved him towards the noose. There was nothing left of the James he knew in the man’s face.
James’ eyes searched the crowd. Edward had no idea what he was looking for, but when James’ gaze fell on Edward, the man’s expression turned angry. The sentence against James was read off and the noose put around his neck. They offered James a moment to say something, but he refused.
The trap door dropped so suddenly that most in the crowd startled. There was a snapping sound, and James swung lifelessly below the platform. Edward eyed James. He wanted to know that the man was truly dead. This had to be over, finally over. Edward stood there for a long time after the crowd had dissipated. James Winchester, his old friend, and enemy, was dead, finally and truly dead.
Edward left the execution feeling freedom and lightness that he could scarcely remember ever feeling before. It was not the exhibition of youth or happiness that he felt. Edward just felt free. His shackles had been broken.
***
Edward had thought that as Esteban Duarte he had been quite the socialite, but since his return from the dead, everyone seemed to want to speak with him. He received request after request for him to attend luncheons, suppers, and parties. He barely had time to come to terms with being reinstated into his old life, let alone to the rigours of society. At least as Esteban he had been able to flaunt the rules of society.
As Edward Dalton, however, the rules of society were all the more pressing. People allowed him some leeway due to his wondrous circumstances that they could scarcely believe, let alone understand. Edward felt sickened that anyone could think all he had been through was exciting and that he might actually want to relive it for their entertainment.
Still, he had to be out in society and do his part to at least some extent. He had even taken a seat in the House of Lords as was his duty, but Edward could not really be bothered with society as a whole. The more he went out, the more he anticipated that he would run into Emily.
Emily should not deter him, but Edward could no longer stand the look in her eyes. The woman looked at him as if he were a stranger to her, and it cut Edward to the bone. He should be free, and yet everything seemed ready to yoke him to a life of dread and tediousness.
“I should have stayed in Spain,” Edward muttered.
Pearl’s voice came from the hallway. “Well, you are not in Spain. Would you like some tea?”
Edward looked up at her. She had been with his family since he was a child but even she looked at him as if he were foreign to her. “No, thank you,” Edward said as he looked back down at the papers before him. He had been trying to work on the papers all morning, but his mind kept wandering away from the task at hand.
Pearl dipped her head and carried on down the hallway. A few moments later, Yates, the doorman peered in and said, “Sorry to disturb you, Your Grace, but there’s a solicitor here to see you.”
“Show him in,” Edward said as he put down his pen. He waited eagerly and smiled as Mr Renford appeared in the doorway. “Mr Renford, come in,” Edward said with a wave of his hand. “Brandy?”
Mr Renford nodded eagerly. “Thank you so kindly,” the man said as he took the glass that Edward offered him. He sat down in one of the comfortable chairs in front of Edward’s desk. “You have a lovely home,” Mr Renford said in admiration as he looked around the study.
“Thank you,” Edward said with a smile. “I have been working to put it back to its original state. I fear that my predecessor had questionable taste.”
Mr Renford nodded. “I actually came to tell you that Oscar Turlington has succumbed to the fever.”
“I see,” Edward said with a frown. “Oscar was always a sturdy man.”
Mr Renford said, “The jails can be horrible places. I have visited a few, and they are generally poorly maintained, and disease is rampant.”
Edward sat down and swirled the brandy in his glass. “Thank you for coming to tell me,” he told the man.
Mr Renford took a sip of his brandy. “I knew you would want to know as soon as I heard about it.”
“Indeed,” Edward said with a nod.
Mr Renford and Edward sat in silence as they drank. When the solicitor was done with his drink, he stood up and said, “I should be going. Thank you again for your hospitality, Your Grace.”
Edward followed the man outside and saw him off. As the solicitor got into his carriage and rode away, Edward thought that perhaps now it was over. All that had done him wrong had been punished. He could start again.
***
Edward stood with the Earl of Shelton and his wife. The Earl chuckled and bumped Edward’s arm. “Wary, Your Grace,” the Earl said as he gestured subtly towards an older gentleman that had two young ladies trailing along behind him. “I fear Mr Morton has decided you would be a match for one of his lovely daughters.”
Lady Shelton smiled. “He has only brought two of them. Lucky you, Your Grace.”
“He has seven,” the Earl added.
Edward turned a sceptical eye toward the plump man who was walking with determined strides towards them. The holiday party had been pleasant enough until that point. Edward sighed.
He had gotten quite used to guardians deciding that Edward would be perfect for their daughters. Edward thought that perhaps if the people concerned knew what sort of man he really was that they might think twice about that.
“Your Grace,” Mr Morton said with an all too pleasant smile. “I wanted to introduce you to my daughters, Lillian and Luanne.” The man waved to each of the girls as he said their names. The girls curtseyed and smiled at Edward. They were pretty enough, but they did not interest Edward.
Edward smiled and dipped his head to the young ladies. “It is a pleasure to meet you ladies,” he said.
Mr Morton took that as a hopeful sign as did his daughters by the looks on their faces. Edward saw there was little he was going to be able to do to deter them. He sighed and resigned himself to listening to Mr Morton talk about the virtues of his daughters.
***
Emily had not wanted to go out, but now that she was here she found that she was having a lovely time. Her disgrace was looked upon as James’ fault, and therefore Emily was viewed with pity rather than contempt. Really, pity was not that much better than contempt if Emily were honest, but it did allow her to still go out in society. Sitting in her parents’ home was too much for her to bear day in and day out, even if her parents were happy to have her home.
Her father had felt awful after Emily had married James. He never felt that it was right, but Emily seemed to be happy enough. Then James started losing money, and it was her mother’s greatest fear that Emily would suffer the consequences of James’ folly.
Emily smiled at Lady Shelton who was telling him all about the latest trends she had seen in dresses. Emily had little interest in it, but it passed the time, and Lady Shelton had b
een a dear friend for the years she had been married to James.
Lady Shelton stopped explaining a hemline she was intent on telling Emily about and sighed. “Mr Morton is a persistent fellow. He must be a great fool to think he can win over the Duke of Danborough by simply throwing his daughters at him.”
Emily turned towards where Lady Shelton was staring. Lady Shelton said, “Oh dear, I am so sorry. I know that he is the one who sent your husband away, but I did not think you had such feelings for James.”
Emily turned a perplexed gaze on the woman. “I do not feel anything in regards to James,” Emily assured the woman. She straightened her back and reminded herself to keep an even expression on her face. She had been caught out of sorts when Lady Shelton had pointed out Edward dancing with one of Mr Morton’s daughters, and she had let her feelings slip through at the sight. She had not even known the man was in attendance.
Lady Shelton gave her a confused look but simply nodded and started right up again about the hems she had been explaining. Emily tried to pay attention, but she found she just could not focus on the woman as her eyes kept slipping back over to take glances at the tall, grey-haired duke dancing with the petite young lady. Finally, she could take it no more, and she said, “I am sorry. I do not feel well.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Lady Shelton asked in concern.
Emily waved the woman off. “No. I just need some fresh air.”
Emily made her way through the gaily lit halls and out onto a balcony. Even the entrance to the balcony was covered in what Emily thought must be fir boughs. The Earl of Shelton certainly loved the winter holidays, Emily mused. Thinking of that helped her calm down.
She breathed in the cool air. It had been at least two months since she had seen Edward, let alone talked to the man. Then again there was not really anything left for them to say, Emily supposed. She leaned on the balcony and looked out over the countryside.
“It will snow soon,” Edward’s voice said causing Emily to jump. “I did not mean to frighten you.”
Emily turned and smoothed down her yellow dress. “You did not,” Emily said as she raised her chin defiantly. “I merely thought I was alone.”
“As I said, I am sorry,” Edward said in a quiet voice.
Emily nodded. “I heard that the first time.” She eyed the man standing in the doorway, framed by the greenery as the violin music drifted outside to them. “I did not know you would be in attendance.”
“Yet here I am,” Edward replied.
They both fell silent. Emily felt as if she might leap at any moment, the prickling of nerves made her feel horribly aware of the fact that she had left her shawl inside with her haste to get out of the room. She rubbed her sleeves which as long as they were, were also rather thin.
“Are you cold?” Edward asked.
Emily looked the man in the eyes. “Yes,” Emily said before she added, “but I will be fine until I can rejoin the party.”
“We best get back then,” Edward said as he stepped aside. Emily brushed past the man when it was clear that he was going to wait for her to go first. She hated to so. Being close to him was a sensation that made her feel a terrible longing in her very core.
Emily did not stop once she was through the doorway. She made her way to gather up her shawl and then to find her carriage. Edward’s aim was of no concern to her. She had made her peace with the situation.
“Emily,” Edward’s voice sounded behind her as she made to go out the front door.
Emily turned to look at him as she tugged her shawl around her. Emily said to the doorman, “Will you go tell my driver that I am ready to leave, please?” The doorman set off at once. Emily then said to Edward, “Why are you following me?”
“I just wished to talk,” Edward said with a shrug.
Emily eyed him and shook her head. She raised her arms in a gesture of futility. “I do not want to talk to you, Edward. Do you not recall what I said when we last met?”
Edward nodded slowly. “Of course, I do,” Edward said.
“Then heed it,” Emily replied as the doorman came through the door to inform her that her carriage was ready. Emily nodded her head to the man and opened the door before she could rethink it. She spared a glance back towards Edward, but the man was already gone back to the party. Emily took a deep breath and stepped out into the cold night. Perhaps they would get some snow after all.
Chapter 17
With the winter holidays, Dalton Hall used to come alive with candles, ribbons, fanciful trees, and the smells of baked goods. Today, however, Dalton Hall stood silent, dark, and the halls barren of anything resembling holiday cheer. Edward stood in the main hall looking up at the banister of the large staircase.
His work to restore the house to its original state had been going well enough, but now with a time for family upon him, Edward found himself lacking. He went into his study and sat down heavily on the aged leather seat. The papers before him on the desk were just things that he needed to sign, and they did not hold his attention.
How had his father done this for years on end? Edward pondered the question, but then Edward’s father had not done it all alone. Edward looked back on the years and remembered afternoons that he would rouse his father from his study to go play in the gardens. Things could have been different for Edward as an only child. His mother had died in childbirth with his brother. Neither of them had survived.
Edward thought about Cantara. He had never told the man that the reason he viewed him so much like a father figure was that the man had on some level reminded Edward of his own father who had gone through the same tragedy. Two men with the same past and very different lives.
Unlike Cantara, Edward’s father had to raise and look after Edward. He did not have the luxury of falling apart. He had seen his father cry. He had seen his father pick himself up and carry on. Edward’s father had chosen generosity and kindness instead of greed and callousness.
Edward looked up at the ceiling of the study. He said to his father’s spirit, “I have let you down.”
***
Edward stared at the man before him. He was in the foyer of Dalton Hall where he had been summoned when an unexpected visitor arrived. “I am sorry. Did you say you were from a newspaper?” Edward asked the man, sure that he had heard him wrong.
“Yes, Your Grace,” the man said with a large smile. He held out his hand. “I am Henry Morgan from the Country Chronicle. I wondered if I could ask you some questions about your miraculous journey and return.”
Edward had known that the newspapers had asked after him, but he had managed to avoid most of them. Yet, here this man was in his very home. Edward sighed. It was either answer questions or kick the man out in the cold. He shook the man’s hand briefly before he said, “I do not know what I can tell you that is not already common knowledge.”
“It does not matter if it is already circulating,” the man said. “We just want some quotes.”
Edward said, “I do not suppose that I could talk you out of running the story.”
“I am afraid not,” Henry said with something akin to regret. “The upper crust is all excited for details of your life, Your Grace. Trust me; it would be easier to give them to us in a story than it would be to have everyone badgering you for them.”
Edward had to agree with that, but he still had no idea what he would say. “What would you like to know?” Edward asked as he turned. “We can go to my study. It is a bit more comfortable.”
Henry seemed to warm right up to that idea as he smiled. “Of course, Your Grace,” Henry said respectfully.
Once they were in the study, Edward poured them some brandy as he thought this conversation might require it. Henry cleared his throat as he took the glass from Edward. “I was wondering if you could tell me about your time serving in the war, before all the unpleasantness,” Henry said before he took a sip of the brandy. He hastily set the drink down and pulled out some paper and writing implements.
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The Revenge of the Betrayed Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 26