Thirty-two

Gwendolyn

The next morning, I dashed to the window first thing. While some of the snow had melted, its presence remained, and only faint imprints pressed upon the glistening white blanket before me. Possibly the hooves of a doctor's horse required to make an urgent visit or a Bow Street runner chasing after a criminal, but the sheer lack of impressions proved that society remained inside and hidden from the world.

Could Hunter have returned under such circumstances?

I rushed to my bellpull, much like yesterday, and rang for Daphne. My behavior resembled that of a nonsensical schoolgirl with a silly fondness for a boy. Incredible .

She arrived immediately. "Yes, my lady?"

"Do you know if Lord Devon returned overnight?"

"He has not. Henry believes his return might be delayed for a couple more days. The country roads will surely be more dangerous than in Town."

I frowned. Today marked the third day since he departed.

"Do you think we can send a missive over to the duchess? I am going mad here, perhaps I can arrange a visit."

She curtsied. "I will check with Henry but I'm certain it won't be any trouble. If you write the note, I will have Freddie deliver it and then prepare the carriage."

"Esmeralda is fine. No need to get the carriage out for this."

"Horseback?" Daphne said the words slowly. The suggestion seemed to rattle her.

"Well, not entirely, I still need my side saddle." I laughed. "If you fear terribly to be out in the cold, Freddie can accompany me."

She chewed on her bottom lip. "No, it's fine, I'll go. I haven't seen Sandy for some time. It'll be nice to visit." She spoke of her cousin in the service as the duchess' abigail.

"Very well, I will write the letter and be down for breakfast shortly. It will be an adventure, Daphne."

Her brows knitted together. "Something strange has beguiled you, my lady. Nobody gets delighted about a jaunt in the snow."

I smiled and turned away from her, but the smile remained as I went to the desk to write my letter.

After breakfast, we received a prompt reply from Her Grace stating that she and her sister would be delighted for a visit. I briefly met Hunter's aunt and cousins at the wedding. They were kind and sweet but, in the whirlwind of events, we hardly exchanged more than a few pleasantries with each other. Now, I would be able to converse in a far more respectable and enjoyable manner.

Daphne helped me into my woolen riding habit. The thick fabric would effectively keep the cold out but was not the most comfortable attire to visit in a drawing room with. My fur-lined cloak, and leather gloves completed my ensemble.

Walking toward the mews, the snow crunched beneath my half boots and despite the wintry scene, the sun shone brilliantly overhead. This brought a hopeful lightness to my heart. If the sun continued to shine, the snow might melt entirely, and Hunter would be back home… soon.

Inside the mews, Freddie readied Esmeralda for me and a mare named Rosebud for Daphne. Before we departed, I noticed him wink at my maid after helping her mount. I smiled at the idea they might have a fondness for each other. Maybe some sort of mystical love spell lingered within the walls of our home. I nearly giggled, thinking of my own fluttering heart.

Upon arrival at the Duke and Duchess of Chilton's townhome, nothing appeared different than the two other times I had visited with Josiah. Only, now that I realized how delicate my relationship with Hunter was, I was grateful for his choice to acquire our own home. Being under the watchful eye of others as we navigated through this unknown terrain would be challenging, and I especially appreciated that they weren't privy to the kiss we shared.

I smiled for the thousandth time at the memory.

Daphne said goodbye outside in the courtyard and used the servants' entrance to join her cousin Sandy in the kitchen below stairs. Percy announced my arrival to the duchess who waved me inside her mediterranean-styled sitting room. Rich, blue damask drapes reminded me of the color of the sea while earthy brown furnishings and leafy green wallpaper rounded out the ambiance of an exotic location. Even the aroma of cardamom and saffron wafted through as if such sweet-smelling spices from across the sea were easily acquired. I truly hoped that when I styled our home that Hunter's mother might be willing to guide me. She demonstrated impeccable taste.

"Lady Gwendolyn." Her Grace, surrounded on both sides by her family, welcomed me with a smile when I entered. On her right sat her younger sister, Priscilla, and on her left, Priscilla's daughter, Amelia, Hunter's cousin. "We are so pleased you came to call, but I feared for your wellbeing while traveling in these weather conditions."

"It is not as dreadful as it appears. The snow has cleared out the haze. The London air is quite the cleanest it's been in ages, I imagine," I said with a soft laugh.

Hunter's mother tilted her head curiously. "I daresay, my dear, you do look healthy…"

"And happy." Her sister arched a brow. Amelia giggled.

I curtsied in their direction and fidgeted with my hands. I relinquished both my cloak and gloves at the entrance, yet without the additional layers, I somehow felt exposed. They spoke the truth, the lightness in my chest had not been witnessed by his family possibly ever . I needed to be cautious. I hardly wanted the duchess to see how I felt about her son before I had a chance to tell him myself.

I stopped mid-step. How did I feel about her son?

"Are you well?" Her Grace motioned me forward and Amelia moved to an opposite chair so I could sit beside Hunter's mother.

I pressed my palm against my flushed cheek. "I assure you I'm fine. The warmth of the room is only now reaching my cold skin."

She grasped both of my hands. "Oh, my dear, you are positively chilled to the bone."

"Like you're made of ice," Amelia burst out.

I lowered my head, but not before I saw both women shoot the girl a warning look. "I've heard that before," I whispered.

Her Grace tapped beneath my chin with a tender touch and raised my chin to face her. "You no longer live up to that name, love, and in truth, I may only be seeing the warmth of your soul now, but it was always there."

I smiled. No wonder Hunter adored his mother. "Thank you. And thank you for allowing me to visit in Hunter's absence. I find myself going a bit mad." I chuckled. There, I sent the first hint, hoping his mother might share more details of his sudden departure.

"Hunter left?" Amelia cried aloud. "Where did he go?"

"Hush, darling," her mother cautioned, trying to teach comportment. "I'm sure he didn't leave this lovely creature for long. Probably to meet his mates at the club. Correct?"

In a sidelong glance, the duchess slightly shifted to the right, appearing discomfited.

"Not precisely," I said. "He left two days ago to attend to business at Gottling Hall."

"Gottling?" Amelia burst out. "Why would he go there in the snow?"

Aunt Priscilla appeared a bit surprised herself. "Are you certain that's where he went?" She turned to the duchess who remained quiet. This assured me she already knew. "Why on earth did he not take his new bride with him?" Aunt Priscilla questioned, looking between me and his mother.

I didn't have an answer, I hoped she did.

Waving her hand in the air, Her Grace exclaimed, "Oh you know these Matthews' men, they are always rushing off to mend some sort of dilemma or another."

"But he's married now. Look at her, she's positively glowing with wedded bliss."

Now, my cheeks heated, and, undoubtedly, turned a ruddy shade of red.

Her Grace picked up her bell and rang it. "Let's have some tea, shall we?"

When the servant came and the duchess made her requests, the line of questioning seemed to have been altered and forgotten, but not for me. The manner in which she reacted to the question led me to believe that she knew something but did not feel comfortable enough to share. Would she have, if only the two of us were present?

When the refreshment tray arrived, Aunt Priscilla gestured to her daughter. "Amelia, ask our guest if she would like some tea, please."

"Oh," Amelia jumped to her feet. "Would you like tea, Lady Gwendolyn?"

I smiled. I remembered how my mother often forced me to practice in front of others. "Yes, please."

She held out a plate of cucumber sandwiches. "And a sandwich?"

"Yes, thank you." I received the plate with the sandwich but sat it down in front of me. Holding the warm cup of tea in both my hands, I felt the heat transfer to my skin. The sweet scents of orange and honey drifted upward and soothed me.

The duchess' sister smiled warmly in my direction. "Now, how are you truly faring, Lady Gwendolyn? I can only imagine how demanding these past couple of months have been for you."

"Sister." Her Grace balked. "Why would you inquire of such a thing? Do you believe if she and Hunter were in disagreement, she would divulge it to us?"

Aunt Priscilla laughed. "Indeed, I'm eager for any morsel of gossip, I am quite without these last two days. I simply long for something to chew on."

I smiled in response, knowing that she and my Aunt Meredith would get along splendidly. "I'm doing well. Hunter is doing well." I tried to hide my smile behind the cup and sipped slowly once again, reliving that very delicious goodbye kiss.

"What occupies your time?" Aunt Priscilla inquired.

"Mostly, I paint."

"Oh wonderful." She clapped her hands together and peered at the duchess. "Did you know this?"

She dipped her head. "Yes, of course, Hunter told me she is exceptionally talented."

I couldn't stop my head from whipping in her direction. "He told you?"

She smiled warmly. "He also told me that you love fairy cakes. I asked Cook to prepare these for you when I learned of your visit." She pointed to a bountiful plate of my favorite treat.

Her thoughtfulness touched me. "Thank you, that is so kind."

The duchess patted my knee. "You are doing splendidly, Gwendolyn, considering all that has happened."

Aunt Priscilla smiled wide. "I think she is doing better than splendidly." She winked. She must have noticed the blush. The warmth that bloomed in my chest could not be ignored. I sat before them, stunned at the realization that it was entirely possible I had fallen in love with Hunter.

When the women shared glances, I subtly shook my head to join the conversation once more. "Hunter is doing a wonderful job of making me feel welcome and your family has been so kind to me." Then I bit my bottom lip. "Do you think he will have difficulty with the roads, Your Grace?"

"Gwendolyn, call me Felicia. We are family, dear." She didn't answer my question right away and suddenly I feared for more than just our separation. When her gaze rested upon me, she quickly patted my hand. "He has taken these roads many times. Once the snow abates, he will navigate his way home with ease. Do not fret, my dear. Come, tell us about how you paint poems."

"He mentioned that as well?"

"Certainly. I long to see your work in person."

I smiled. This small piece of knowledge allowed me to settle in and converse more naturally. She spoke of her own experience with art, and I suggested we have the family over soon. It would be my first time to host a dinner, and I looked forward to it.

When it grew time to depart, the women embraced me lovingly. Though they had been gentle and kind at the wedding, I remembered being in a daze and could hardly recall much from that day. I appreciated their benevolence now more than they might ever know. When the duchess held me, she whispered in my ear. "You have brought a healing to my family, Gwendolyn. Thank you so very much, my dear."

I wasn't entirely sure what she meant by that but relished in the belief it might be true.

Outside in the mews, Daphne met me straightaway, and we prepared to depart. "Did you enjoy your time with Sandy?" I inquired, still beaming over my own visit.

"Yes," she said, though she didn't elaborate.

"Did you have refreshment?"

"Yes, thank you." She offered only the briefest of answers and we travelled the rest of the way home in silence.

Hunter's horse, Claymore, did not occupy a stall when we arrived home. This confirmed his prolonged delay. I fought to keep my disappointment from surfacing. Though I truly missed him, I hardly wanted him to travel under dangerous conditions.

Later that night, Daphne remained quiet as she helped me get ready for bed. In fact, she had spoken so little since our return this afternoon from the duke's townhome that I feared the winter exposure may have caused some sort of illness.

"Are you well, Daphne?"

"Yes, my lady," she assured, though she didn't look at me.

"Come, let me feel your head for a fever."

"I'm not sick with fever, I can assure you that," she snapped, then promptly reeled in regret. "Forgive me," she pleaded. "Please, my lady, forgive me."

"What is it that ails you? I'm concerned."

She looked away and fidgeted with the dress I had recently stepped out of. She inattentively folded it several times before she finally unraveled it and hung it in the armoire.

"Daphne?" I pressed.

When she finally peeked in my direction she burst into tears. I rushed over to her and led her to the edge of my bed. "Sit. Calm yourself."

She wiped her nose with the cuff of her sleeve, so I handed her my handkerchief. "Tell me," I pleaded. "You are positively distraught."

"It is not for me, my lady."

"Then, who?"

She placed her hands over her face and continued to cry.

"Now, I'm very worried. Did you receive dreadful news from your family?"

She removed her hands, but her eyes remained moist. "No, my lady, nothing is amiss with them." She took a deep breath and sniffled. "After all you've been through, it tears me to the very bone."

"Pardon?" I stiffened over her peculiar behavior. "What, pray tell, are you referring to?"

Daphne wiped her eyes with the linen.

I stood and stepped a couple of paces backward, clenching my hands together. What caused her so much vexation? I seized a couple of deep breaths. "Daphne, you must tell me at once."

She lunged forward and tried to grab my hands, but I didn't grasp hers back. "I'm unsure how to speak the words, my lady."

I grew impatient then bit my inner cheek so hard I tasted blood. "Speak plainly."

"I can't," she mumbled.

What great secret did she carry? My heart thumped hard within my chest. Squeezing both her hands now, I pleaded, "Please?"

She closed her eyes for several beats and when she opened them, her eyes appeared pained. "You mentioned that Lord Devon sought out his mother recently, yes?"

I nodded.

She exhaled loudly. "Sandy attended her mistress when she met with Lord Devon at Hyde Park, three days' past."

Her lengthy pauses were driving me mad. "Continue," I said with tight lips.

Daphne glanced down at our hands. "Sandy overheard portions of a serious conversation. Oh… I just can't." She stood, releasing our grasp, and shuffled around the room, still mumbling incoherently.

"Please, Daphne, just tell me!" I said, steeling my emotion.

"She swore me to secrecy, my lady, but I'm plagued over it."

My heart wilted. "Enough!" I snapped. "Tell me!"

She froze for a moment then composed herself. "Sandy did not hear it fully, but is certain Lord Devon is secreting a woman carrying a child."

My heart plummeted. My greatest fears were realized.

"You are positive this involves my Lord Devon… Hunter?"

"Yes." She nodded hesitantly. "Sandy claims his mother offered to help where she could."

I suddenly felt faint.

"Where are your smelling salts, my lady?"

My mind spun and I quickly laid down on the bed. Curling to the side, I closed my eyes. In my blindness, I heard Daphne fumbling around the room, then rush to my side. A strong medicinal smell assaulted my nose. I blinked and pushed the bottle away as my eyes watered. "I'm fine."

"My lady, you look… oh, so pale. I should not have told you."

"Yes, you most certainly should have!" I retorted. And so should Hunter, Her Grace, Lord Lucas, Lord Zachary, and whoever else was privy to his little secret.

"What can I do?"

"That will be all," I replied curtly.

She panicked and sniffled. "Lady Gwendolyn, I didn't want to tell you. I'm so sorry."

"It was right that you did," I said. At least somebody did . "Leave me be."

She squeezed my shoulder, then I heard her footsteps retreat. I wanted to cry out, but a numbness consumed me as all the fears I had worried over came crashing down. My breath shortened as if a pillow pressed over my face, suffocating me. Unable to process a single rational thought, I drew my arms into my chest and clutched the fabric of my bodice as if my hands were the only means of holding my body together.

The night stretched with excruciating listlessness and, as the darkness faded to light, the torment continued to tear at me in unbearable waves. Yet, I remained absolutely still. I hadn't removed my dress, my stays, my stockings, or slippers… anything.

And I slept not a wink.

Many scenarios whirled around in my head overnight. Shall I confront Hunter upon his return? Shall I pack and prepare to leave, or do I continue on as if nothing like this might ever distress me? I had already earned the nickname of the Ice Princess , it would not take much effort to resume the fa?ade.

When I stepped to the window in the light of the fourth day since Hunter's departure, I ardently wished somehow that my agony arose from a dreadful nightmare and not the reality I faced. Peering through the glass, I noticed the snow had melted significantly and, as I watched the daily movements of Londoners, instead of longing for his horse to appear, I now feared it.

Then, without warning, my heart disobediently lurched to my feelings for him. Despite this awful secrecy that persisted between us, I cared for him. I allowed myself to be vulnerable, and now my fragile heart agonized over his welfare and safety. Is there indeed a woman who carries a child? His child? Did he go to Gottling Hall for this woman? Would she be giving birth there?

"Gah!" I leaned both hands against the glass, too distraught to think clearly. How did I let him penetrate the layers I had perfected to protect myself?

I yanked the bellpull. Daphne came rushing inside.

"Has Lord Devon returned yet?"

She shook her head. "No, my lady." She scanned my clothing and her eyes widened. While she was aware that she didn't help me undress last night, she might've assumed I did it myself. I didn't. I attempted to appear unaffected by her response, but from the puffiness in my cheeks, my anguish must have been clear.

"Might I retrieve something for you?" Daphne's forehead wrinkled. I could not recall a time in all the years she served me that she appeared more concerned. "Warm chocolate, a breakfast tray? Anything?"

"A way to reverse time," I mumbled, then gestured for her to help me change into a simple morning dress.

Each hour of the day passed with agonizing cruelty, and with my mind out of sorts, I spent a great deal of time wandering aimlessly. When I finally settled down in the parlor, I found it difficult to concentrate on painting, so I chose to work on the handkerchiefs I started for Hunter. Sewing his initials took less devotion, but after my third needle prick, I tossed the linen aside. Holding my finger to my mouth to ease the pain, I nearly cursed aloud as frustrated as I was.

Henry appeared in the doorway. "Pardon me, my lady, you have a caller."

I stood up, anticipating the duchess, her sister, or even my Aunt Meredith. Brushing my wayward strands off my face, I tried to appear presentable when Henry announced, "Captain Bently, my lady."

Torn between disappointment and anger, I considered giving him the cut direct and having Henry escort the captain out of the house. Then I lifted my chin a notch. I'm not a coward. William Bently needed to hear from my own lips that he was no longer welcome in my life.

Stepping inside the parlor, the captain immediately met me with a proper bow, though I did not return his greeting with a customary curtsey. "Captain Bently," I said and clasped my hands in front of me.

Henry gestured to leave when I motioned for him to wait. "One moment, Henry. Will you please stay?" He arched a brow but never questioned my odd request. My faithful butler stepped inside and stood against the east wall, facing me and the captain.

Captain Bently frowned. "I'm not here to harm you, Lady Gwendolyn, you hardly need a chaperone."

"After our last discussion, I believe the use of a chaperone is most necessary."

He shook his head and scowled. "I'm at a loss on how to convey it any differently, but I am not the one to fear."

My brows furrowed. "Just what are you implying, sir?"

He glanced back at Henry and took several steps closer. I kept my hands in front of my body if for some reason they were needed to punch him. Though I'd never been taught such a movement, I wouldn't hesitate one bit if he attempted anything untoward. "I am here to warn you, Lady Gwendolyn." He stared hard at me. "We were friends once, I feel it only right that someone should tell you."

I stiffened. "Tell me what?"

He glanced at the window. "I would have been here sooner if the weather allowed."

"You are being ambiguous, Captain Bently. Is there news of your family?"

He gazed back at me. "No, my concern lies with your family."

"My parents?"

"No, your husband."

Fragments of the conversation I had with Daphne only last night flashed across my mind with eerie similarities. "What of my husband?"

He took another step forward. "I know he met with a woman the night of the musicale."

My hands clenched tighter together.

"And I know that he has gone to help her as she is in a… delicate situation ." He studied me carefully as if he waited for a reaction. It took everything within me to keep my countenance clear.

"I don't know what nonsense you're referring to."

He smirked as if this confirmed his accusation. "How long has Lord Devon been away from London?"

"That is none of your concern," I abruptly countered, revealing how close I was to losing my patience with this man. "Was causing vexation your only purpose in coming here today?"

"Is it truly me causing the vexation?" Bently refuted. Then he exhaled brashly. "Forgive me for attempting to make you aware of a clandestine tête à tête I witnessed the night of the musicale. I wrongly assumed you would want to know if your husband tarried with another woman." He bowed curtly and headed for the door.

Before he departed the room, I called out to him. "Captain Bently?" He halted and circled around with hope in his eyes. I spoke through gritted teeth. "Don't ever approach me again, sir."

I turned my back on him and waited to hear his footsteps fade before I slumped into the closest chair in tears, unable to stem my frustration. Everything he said substantiated not only Hunter's odd behavior but what Daphne learned from Sandy.

My head fell heavily into my hands, and I sobbed. If Captain Bently was aware, who else knew?

"My lady?" Henry's smartly polished shoes appeared beneath my fingers as I stared at the floor. He must've returned after he saw the captain out of the house. I gazed upward to find only sincere compassion filled his countenance. "Forgive me, my lady, for allowing that man entrance." He sighed. "His lordship tasked me with protecting you and I fear I have performed poorly."

Both touched and confused by his words, I paused. Hunter asked him to see to my safety? While my husband saw to the safety of his expectant lover?

"Thank you, Henry."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No," I wiped my eyes. "No, thank you."

He slipped out quietly and left me to my traitorous thoughts.

By the time I emerged from the parlor, my cheeks were swollen and my eyes sore once again. "Henry?" I called my butler who met me immediately in the foyer. "Yes, my lady?"

"I need to see my father. Would you send word for him to come as soon as he is able? I think it would be simpler for him to make the trip here." Though my family only resided a mere half dozen streets away, I hardly felt capable of managing a horse at the moment. I justified my father's ability as an expert horseman and knew he could travel under any number of conditions.

When Henry announced Father's arrival an hour later, I waved him in to join me in the parlor.

He hustled to my side when he caught sight of my face. My tears found little respite. "You look unwell, Gwendolyn." He clasped my hands. "What ails you? Where is Lord Devon, he should be attending you."

I led him to the sofa and we both sat. After several seconds of silence, I faced him. "I need to know, Father. I need to know what secrets you hold concerning my husband."

His eyes grew large. "Has he injured you?"

I shook my head. I couldn't legitimately claim that he had. I knew nothing. And the unknown seemed to yield the most damage.

"Please, I must know if your confidences involve another woman."

"Heaven's no, love." He reached for my hands.

"How can you be so certain?"

Father seized a deep inhale and stood up. "Because… it's my secret too."

"Please tell me," I whispered my plea.

He peered down at his hands while he paced in a tight circle. When he peeked back over to me, his expression revealed humility—an attribute I had only recently seen my father exhibit. He took a deep breath. "Are you aware of the reason we remained in London outside of the Season?"

"Yes, for business."

"I had become involved in some, well, precarious investments."

"The breweries," I added.

"Yes." He stared pointedly. "How did you know it expressly entailed breweries?"

"Sir Decklan cannot whisper, Father. The whole neighborhood might've been privy to your conversations."

"Ah…" He nodded and ran a hand down his face. "Of course." Another deep sigh. "I am not sure if you are aware of the tragedy involving the Horse Shoe Brewery where a number of people drowned from a damaged vat."

"No, I wasn't." My heart sank. "That's dreadful. Was that one of your breweries?"

"Yes, the central one. After the incident, the others then faced insurmountable trouble. We should have been ruined."

"Should have?" I repeated tentatively, shocked at his words and how blurred the lines of prosperity and hardship were with one another.

"I invested an obscene amount of money and faced dire consequences. Someone stepped in and prevented total bankruptcy."

I remained still. There was but one reason he divulged this to me. "Hunter," I whispered.

He nodded. "He averted disaster."

"When did this occur?"

"Three weeks before your wedding."

Stunned, I couldn't speak. The time frame he described followed the conversation I shared with Hunter outside of the boxing house and the lengthy absence before the Sutton ball. Little did I know he spent that time repairing my family's future and standing when he could have easily acknowledged a reason to cancel the contract.

"Did Chilton know?"

"I believe Hunter effectively kept him unaware. If His Grace had been informed, I'm certain you would not be married to a Matthews at this moment."

Why did he still marry me?

Once Father divulged his full confession, I sat, dumbstruck to say the least, and could add a third foolish mark to my behavior. For I had been quite harsh in my judgements during that time we spent apart.

I rubbed my temples with my fingers. Though a faint megrim had lingered for hours, my head now felt as though it might implode. "What am I to do with this news, Father?"

He sat beside me and took my hands in his. "I do not know what has occurred for you to doubt him, but I have seen Hunter exhibit integrity and honor, time and time again."

I swallowed the large lump in my throat, confused now more than ever before. Without another word, my father drew me to him and held me much like he did that night in his study and I, unable to control my emotions, wept into his shoulder.