Page 63 of Taken By the Broken Duke
“Hall is never unwell. He has the constitution of an ox,” Horatio muttered, “I should see him.”
He made to rise but Frances kept him seated with a hand to his shoulder. Horatio closed his eyes against the wave of weakness that swept over him.
“Madam,” he sighed to Lady Margaret, “Hall is not just in charge of my household staff, but he is an invaluable aid in managing my business affairs. I simply cannot be without him.”
“Fear not, Your Grace,” said Matthew Ainsworth cheerily, as he breezed into the room bearing a sheaf of papers.
“Mr. Hall has briefed me on the particular issues of concern at the moment, and I am more than capable of addressing them. Remember that, as aide to His Grace the Bishop of London, I am required to undertake many administrative tasks relating to properties and estates, smallandlarge.”
“And why would you wish to help me?” Horatio asked suspiciously, “After you told me that you despised me for my father's sins.”
“A sin of my own that I must now atone for. Wrath is a mortal sin after all. As is envy,” Ainsworth replied.
He cleared a table and brought it to the chaise on which Horatio sat. Then he spread out a number of documents containing small, densely packed writing.
“Envy?” Horatio said, putting a hand to his head and wishing that Doctor Jackton would appear soon with his medicine. He did not want to be muddled or confused when dealing with the Godwins or Matthew Ainsworth.
As they so often did, his thoughts returned to Juliet. She appeared in his mind more than once every day. Always now with regret and immense sadness. Once, he had believed that he loved her, though he had never said as much to her. The planned marriage of convenience would have been a marriage in truth.
But she was gone. And his ancestors demanded that he do the right thing, repair the damage that had been done to their name.
There was now only one way to do that. Except... hadn't his woes truly begun when he had found himself unable to refuse the challenge of a duel? When he had put the honor of his family before his own good judgment. Before his own sense of right and wrong. A sudden anger ignited in Horatio, a resentment of all of thoseTempletonsthat had gone before him. ThoseTempletonswho expected him to sacrifice himself at the altar of their memory. And not just himself, but Juliet as well.
He embraced the anger, a tight smile breaking across his face. Frances shrank back from him as he turned to her.
“Are you… quite well... Your Grace?” she stammered.
“Is it a sin to love?” Horatio asked of the room in general.
Frances appeared confused. Lady Margaret looked to Matthew Ainsworth. He seated himself, seeming unperturbed.
“It is no sin to love, according to the rules of the church. A love within the bounds of holy matrimony. Or the love of a child for his parent. Or parent for child,” Ainsworth said, beatifically.
“And if a man is forced into matrimony, simply to escape scandal and not for love?”
“Matrimony is sacred. It is a virtue, no matter the motivation,” Ainsworth replied.
Horatio glanced at Frances who smiled tentatively. Lady Margaret nodded encouragingly, as if predicting where Horatio's thoughts were leading him and approving their direction.
“I love a woman who I wish to marry…” Horatio began. “I have lain with her. More than once. That is a sin and a potential scandal, is it not?”
“It is!” Ainsworth said emphatically, “and the woman concerned is equally culpable.”
“And so, to avoid scandal and to assuage my guilt and restore my name, I should marry not the woman I wish to, but another that I do not care for and who does not care for me beyond my title and wealth? I am caught in a trap made by my own guilt,” Horatio said thoughtfully, as though feeling his way through this argument.
“Yes!” Ainsworth responded. “You are guilty and you must atone. If you seek forgiveness, it may be granted and your honor restored. But you must...”
“Grovel,” Horatio finished.
“Yes!” Ainsworth cried triumphantly.
But Frances was casting worried glances at her mother, who was shaking her head as she frantically tried to catch Ainsworth's eye. They could sense that something was wrong. Something was not going according to plan.
“I choose not to be guilty. I choose to live according to my morality. Not yours. And not the morality of my ancestors. I have committed no sin according to my morality. I have no guilt. I will not grovel for the sake of my name. I will marry Juliet if she will have me.”
Horatio rose, leaning heavily on the walking cane. Frances and Lady Margaret looked stunned but Ainsworth stood with mouth opening and closing. No words came out and his eyes bulged. As though only now did he realize where Horatio's reasoning was taking him.
“No, no, no,” Ainsworth finally choked in a strangled voice, “that is not... you cannot...”
