Page 64 of His Highland Duchess
This gave Lysander a chance to slip from the room quietly. On his way out, he paused by the doorway, watching as Margaret regaled the girls with the tale of her fall. They were both transfixed by it, worry painted across their faces.Oh, how they admire and love her. And how she does them, also.
The sight of it all sent a sharp pain through Lysander’s stomach. He grimaced and held it, as if trying to stuff it away. But it did no good, the confusion mounting in him until he could hardly breathe.
Quickly, he exited the room, hearing Aurelia and Lorena giggle at something Margaret had said. When this entire arrangement had begun, his greatest fear was that the girls would become attached to Margaret and then resent him when he sent her away. Not once did he consider that he might not have had a choice in her leaving, and not once did he even think about how his two girls would break if anything was to happen to Margaret.
He loved her. He knew that he did. But was this love worth the cost? Or was it simply easier to sever ties now, rather than risk the pain that might come in the future?
Lysander had lived a life free of love his entire life, and for good reason.People always speak of the positives of marriage, love and romance and happiness. Rarely do they mention the other side of the coin likely because it is too painful to comprehend.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
News came for Lysander the following morning. Ordinarily, it was the type of news that might have sent him into a fury. Yet under the current circumstances, he saw in it his salvation.
“Your Grace!” It was Mr. Jeffries, appearing in the doorway of the breakfast room. “I am so sorry to disturb you, but –”
“What is it, Mr. Jeffries?” Lysander’s first inclination was to assume that something was wrong with Margaret. He had not seen her since yesterday, having spent all of the previous evening and this morning still trying to decide what he was going to do. “Has something happened to Her Grace?”
“No, Your Grace.” He rushed toward the table and bowed quickly. “It is His Grace, the Duke of Morland. He was just seen riding through the gate.”
“Oh…” Lysander frowned at the news. “Are you certain?”
“It can be no other.”
“Huh.” Lysander looked to the window, noting the sunny morning and clear skies. The last time Julian had visited him, it was done so under the claim that the bad weather had forced him to redirect and pay a visit. Strange that he would come today without first sending word ahead.Likely, the man is simply bored.
Glad for the distraction and for the excuse not to face his wife, Lysander was quick to rise from the table and hurry outside to greet his friend. And it was just as he stepped through the doorway that he spied Julian climbing down from his horse.
“Julian…” Lysander started down the steps. “This is a most unexpected surprise.”
“I would have sent word!” Julian strode toward him, his massive size seeming to make the ground shake with each step. “But I thought it best I see you at once.”
This gave Lysander pause, as he noticed the look of concern in his friend’s face. Always smiling, always in the middle of a jest of some kind, the man looked utterly at a shambles. Perhaps even afraid?
“Is something the matter?”
Julian grimaced. “Perhaps we should…” He looked past Lysander toward the house, only to shake his head. “No, there is no time. It is best to get this out of the way at once.”
“Get what out of the way? What is going on, man!”
“I only just heard myself,” Julian began, reaching into his coat and producing a letter. “It came for me last week – frustratingly, I was away so I only read it this morning. If I had been earlier, I might have tried to put a stop to it myself.”
“A letter…” Lysander eyed the piece of parchment. “A letter from whom?”
“I cannot believe you have not heard,” he continued. “Although your wife’s family was visiting, weren’t they…” He bit his lip with consideration. “Likely, that is why the news is yet to reach –”
“Will you quit rambling and tell me what is going on! Who is that letter from?”
Julian took a breath and calmed his rambling tongue. Then he looked plainly at Lysander, the weight of whatever this was written clear across his face. “It is from Lady Brimstone, Lysander. She has sent the same to half the ton.”
“Sent what – what is going on, man?”
He grimaced. “She has been telling everyone, Lysander. Spreading her filthy lies all over the ton. To anyone who wouldlisten. I know there is no truth to them – of course I do! But you know how these things are. Like adding fire to a dried forest, a single spark and –”
“Will you just tell me what she has written!” he cried.
Julian sighed and handed the letter to Lysander. Lysander snatched it and began to read, his stomach dropped, and his face paled, and that sensation of being sick quickly rocked his body so that he began to sway.
“It is your lady wife, Lysander.” The big man reached out and rested a hand on Lysander’s shoulder. “As you can see, she claimed that at the Brimstone Ball, she was…” He grimaced again. “That she had too much to drink. So much, in fact, that she… that she…” He winced. “That she was seen to be undressing herself in the middle of the ballroom.”
