Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The sound of horseshoes clattered out from the mews and into the lane leading towards the park. Marcus welcomed the freedom of riding so early in the morning, and longed to be back at Hargrove in the countryside again.

He hoped they would reach Hyde Park early enough to enjoy the peace and tranquility and late enough to miss the aftereffects of any duels, which still occurred occasionally despite it being outlawed, near the Serpentine lake. Marcus could never understand what possessed men to hold their lives in such low regard that they would throw their life away at dawn in a London Park.

Any man who had been on a battlefield in France or Spain knew the value of life and how easily it could be lost in an agonizing death.

Colin rode beside him, and Marcus was glad of his company on this early morning ride. Behind them, at a distance, rode James.

He envied his cousin Colin. He knew what made him happy and had a devotion to family, and those he cared for, which made him a perfect son. Marcus smiled, knowing that any children of Colin's would have a father they could love, and who would be proud of them.

"Are you still planning to offer for Lady Jocelyn?" he asked Colin, bending his head close to his friend's.

"Marcus, I believe so."

"You haven't declared yourself yet."

"No, though I feel a love for Jocelyn which makes me glad to be alive."

Marcus smiled at his friend's declaration of happiness.

"I'm very aware that this is her first season in London. Her coming out ball hasn't even taken place yet," said Colin.

"It's in the next few days I think."

"Yes, they are busy with preparations, so I haven't seen her as much this week. It's to take place at Maybury Crescent, home of Lady Leighton's house."

"What's holding you back?" Marcus asked. He was curious as to why, if Colin had made his choice, his best plan would be to declare his affections and get out of town as soon as possible.

That's what I'd have done, he mused.

"Perhaps it's the loss of her parents, Marcus. She lost them at such a young age and in such tragic circumstances. She has a guardian who must be one of the most grim-faced, miserly men in the ton. I guess I don't want Jocelyn to imagine that she is in love with me just because she sees it as an escape route from her past and her great uncle Harold."

"I see your logic. I have to say that my impression is of a young woman who knows her own mind and has a genuine affection for you."

"You're right in that estimation," agreed Colin.

"I hope she doesn't get swept off her feet by another suitor while you are being caring and considerate and holding back from making an offer of marriage."

"I hadn't thought of it quite like that, by Jove," said Colin. "I think maybe I have taken her affections for granted and held back from moving things on during these last ten days."

"It's only a random thought. Lady Jocelyn seems equally smitten with you, so I think it unlikely." Marcus looked ahead, seeing the Serpentine glistening in the morning light. "I like her, Colin. I do believe it is about personality, rather than age and experience," he added.

He bent down to pat his chestnut horse and looked up at Colin with an expression of pure mischief. "Let's pretend for a few minutes that we're hellions and race down Rotten Row."

"I'm up for it," said Colin. "James, his lordship and I plan to race down Rotten Row and back again. Can you count us down so it's a fair start?"

"Very well, My Lord." The valet raised his arms in the air and began to count. When he reached down from five. "Five, four, three, two, one." James lowered his hand to signal the start of the race, as he said, "Go!"

They raced down an empty Rotten Row, horses gathering speed and enjoying the canter after weeks of sedate walking along the city streets.

Marcus felt the wind in his hair and the cooling sensation of the chilly morning air on his body.

I've missed this .

Beside him Colin raced neck and neck, both enjoying the exhilaration of a morning ride.

"How about a swim across the Serpentine," he yelled to Colin, who nodded.

When they arrived at the banks of the lake they could see James, standing down by the water and seemingly unaware of their arrival.

"That's odd," declared Marcus. "I thought he'd be up here waiting for us."

"He seems to be moving a sack of something," said Colin. "Let's tie up the horses and see what he's doing."

Marcus broke into a run as they approached James, who was taking off his jacket to lay across something lying on the ground.

"James, what have you there man? Is it what I think it is?" Marcus asked.

"Aye, My Lord and there's no hope of saving him. He's long gone."

"Why the hell did they leave him here alone like this, and make no effort to summon help?"

"A duel, then fear of the constables I expect," suggested Colin.

Marcus knelt down beside James and felt for a pulse in the young man's neck. Nothing.

He felt his stomach turn. All those times on the battlefield it had been just the same, the waste of life, and the slow pain of death.

"Colin, find someone to fetch a surgeon. We'd better go through the process."

"He's so young, James," said Marcus, a catch in his voice. "He can't be more than twenty. Last night he was probably playing cards and placing wagers and this morning he's gone, there's nothing left."

"His poor family," said James. "This dueling is such a needless business, a waste of life."

"Looks like this was a sword fight, rather than pistols at dawn. That's unusual these days."

"If they catch the other man then he faces prison, transportation, or worse. The authorities have tightened up on what used to be considered an ‘affair of gentlemen'," James predicted grimly.

"Here's the constable coming now, My Lord. I believe I may recognize the young gentleman."

"You do?" said Marcus, unable to break his gaze away from the young face lying on the ground. "He does have a familiar look."

"I believe he's the Earl of Carstairs, son of the Duke of Cattersby."

"Hell, James, I believe you're right. His grandfather died at Waterloo with Wellington. That poor woman. The duchess lost her father, and now her son in such a wasteful, unnecessary way."

After the body had been taken away the three men walked back together to their horses.

"Life is too precious to waste," Marcus mused. "Somehow one dead earl in Hyde Park has affected me more than some of the battles I've been in. It is such a waste of a precious life."

He looked at Colin with intensity. "If you love that girl then offer for her. Don't let anyone else sneak up and overtake you in that race to the altar."

"You might just be right. I was beginning to think that way myself. And you Marcus? Back to Italy to track down the Contessa?"

"I think not Colin. I suspect my chance of happiness is here in London."

Colin gazed at him, eyes narrowing in thought. "I can't see you and Lady Cressida together. I know Aunt Elizabeth hopes you will make a match, but I just can't see it."

He stopped to throw a stone into the water and watched it skim across in a rise and fall motion.

"Of course, it's obvious. I just didn't see it, I've been so focused on Jocelyn to see another romance developing in front of my eyes."

"I wouldn't put it quite like that Colin. Merely that I'm interested in seeing more of the lady and working out the feelings I experience when I'm close to her."

"I knew it," laughed Colin "You're smitten as well!"

"I most certainly am not!" denied Marcus. The trouble was, he was unsure if he believed his own words. "Now I believe we have time for that swim."

"I thought after finding Carstairs..." said Colin.

"The opposite in fact. I suggest we go for a swim and make the most of the day. Well after I call on the Duchess of Cattersby to offer my condolences, and reassure her I believe he died a painless death. It's the least I can do."

"I'll join you in that visit, Marcus. You're not doing that alone."

"I'd rather neither of us needed to pay that visit, but I admit that I'll be glad of the support."

He stared off into the distance. A pall of sadness had fallen on the day. The life of the Duchess of Cattersby would never be the same again. Such a sad waste of a young man's life.