Three

Hunter

6 November 1814

"Devil be damned!" I murmured again as I finished packing my valise. We traveled light and with only a few changes in our apparel. Truly, only one ensemble might signify me as a gentleman, and now I donned it for my return to England. I much preferred the rustic wool buckskins and cotton tops that kept me anonymous. I found people shared more information in the saloons and inns that way. But now, here I stood, packing my bag to catch tomorrow's barge across the channel to stand on ceremony once again. While I didn't despise the role of a gentleman, I despised the rigid structure that accompanied it.

"You keep repeating that as if that was at all a possibility," Zachary mumbled as he reclined in a corner chair with his fingers steepled before his lips.

"Well, it needs to be said." I ran a hand through my long hair and then fumbled around to locate a gentleman's ribbon to tie my shoulder-length strands back. I hardly wanted my mother to see the heathen I turned into overseas.

"Come now, Matthews," Zachary sat up. "We all knew that Josiah would succumb to his vices at some point. Better earlier than later."

I flashed a pointed smirk at the brimming glass on the table beside him. "Vices, you say?"

He wrinkled his brow. "This coming from the man who bloodied three opponents yesterday in what was supposed to be a friendly round of fisticuffs."

"There is nothing friendly about fisticuffs," I countered. "If a man is looking for ‘friendly', they can play a game of charades," I mumbled, then sighed. "However, you're correct, forgive me, it's not my place to lecture."

The silence between us amplified in the stuffy, rented room on the second floor of the pub or brassiere, as they referred to them here in France. I stared at my friend, whose smile had dimmed over the course of the last year. I should know, having been acquainted with Zach, the eternal philanderer, since we were ten years old. He rarely frowned and, in his distinctive playful fashion, could get even the bitterest of people to crack a grin. However, all had changed since we returned from war. The fight against Napoleon left us all with varying challenges from sleepless nights and nightmares to wounds that might never heal, and the biggest scar of all… past regret.

As a soldier, you live with your mortality clinging to your sleeve. One moment, one decision, one task could alter you irrevocably. This left us with a singular vulnerability.

Had we departed from our loved ones with crucial remarks left unsaid?

If we didn't return, would the intended receivers suffer from the unknown? And if we did return, but to altered lives, could we live with the consequences that our parting words were not sufficient enough to convey our true intent? This, in particular, was what I presumed haunted my noble friend.

Zach emptied his tumbler into the water pitcher. "I admit, my indulgence has become excessive." He rubbed a palm across the back of his neck. The dullness in his eyes appeared profound this morning. I could not recall the last time I'd seen his sea-blue eyes shine with delight.

"Come with me, Collins," I urged. "The Season begins in a few months. You know that with the loss of my brother, my parents will require my attendance at nearly every event."

"Short mourning period?"

I gestured to my recently acquired black band around my bicep. "This will most likely be the extent of it. Though I don't know the specifics yet, I'm certain they will want to pretend nothing happened… well, my father, at least. My mother will surely be heartbroken as most mothers are, despite the ill conduct of a child."

"Do you think she knew? That they knew? How cunning he'd become in his pursuits?"

Rubbing my newly shaven chin, I reflected on the two years I'd been gone as a member of His Majesty's military and yet, the precise week I'd returned, I learned more about Josiah's indiscretions than I cared to. I even confronted him twice, pleading for him to take his role as the heir more seriously. If not for himself, at the very least, for our mother. He laughed in response. Humor was his one assured inherent trait.

I peered over at Zach. "I'm not sure. It's difficult to keep dalliances secreted amongst the ton . Perhaps he just seduced the gossip columnists to keep them quiet." I chuckled, though it wasn't truly comedic.

Zach twirled the ring on his finger—a gold band with a sea-faring ship etched on top. It bore his family's insignia. "As the newest heir apparent and Marquess of Devon, you'll be tasked with finding a wife posthaste."

I nodded. I had not thought precisely of that duty in the twelve hours since I received the notification of Josiah's death, but he spoke the truth. "They will expect me to consider only families with the strongest of pedigrees to make up for the damage Josiah has done." My soul stirred. I never contemplated marrying for propriety's sake. As the second son of the Duke of Chilton, I believed I would always have my choice and, though I didn't claim sentimentality on these things, I hoped to find a wife I would enjoy being around, possibly even care for or love.

"I do not envy your undertaking," he mumbled.

"Come and stand up with me," I urged. "Don't leave me to the wolves."

Zach chuckled. "It's sure to be a mob. A newly designated heir to a duke… a man with actual conviction and honor… a war hero… you will be deemed the most eligible man in London, if not the whole of England." He winked. "Perhaps I should come, if only to be your protector." He sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Only, I'm certain I would not make for suitable company in society, my friend. Too much has changed for me. Besides, Jaxon is still missing."

I placed a hand on his shoulder. "I cannot tell you what to do regarding Eveline."

His jaw visibly tightened. "There's nothing to be done. She is married."

"Then return with me and find a woman befitting a former soldier and son of an earl. You were born to charm; it will all return to you in due time."

He scoffed.

I lifted the gold watch from my waistcoat pocket and glanced at the time. "I must go."

"Yes, of course, go. I will follow up with this most recent lead and if nothing comes of it, I will return in a week or two."

"Promise?" I arched one of my eyebrows skeptically.

He smirked. "While London is the least likely place I wish to be when the Season starts, I will not leave my friend to be hounded by every persistent mother with a daughter of marriageable age." He stood to his feet and shook my hand. "I promise."

"Take care of yourself, Zach." I pulled him in for an embrace then retrieved my valise, departing swiftly for the coach that would transport me to the La Havre port in time to make tomorrow's crossing of the channel.

Once onboard the Caroline, I settled myself for the brief journey the three-masted vessel would make as it delivered me back to England and toward an unforeseen fate.