Page 51 of When her Duke Returns
Alexander laughed. “Sorry for having left you at his mercy.” Harry seemed to sober at the statement, so the Duke changed topics. “So,” he began, finishing his glass of water in one, short gulp. “What were your plans when we were boys? What is it you dreamed of”?
Harry seemed to consider his words for a long moment, his eyes drifting to the floor. “To love honestly and be loved back...” he managed to say most elegantly. “Is that not all we ever want in the end?”
Alexander swallowed hard. He had not expected such sincerity from the man, especially given his drunken state. There was truth to his words, however—it was undeniable in the way it stirred Alexander. Had his life, too, not been stained by the dream of love?
“I heard what happened,” Harry stated when the room fell quiet. “In the gardens. Between you and Mary.”
“Ah,” was all Alexander could muster first. “Quite the wallflower indeed.”
“And between Antony and Mary.”
Alexander was taken aback. “What do you mean? Did something happen?”
Harry looked away and settled back into his seat. “Most certainly, though I don’t know the details. I was hiding away in the gardens and heard their voices carry over the hedges. By the time I came upon them, Burkley had fled the scene and Mary was… not quite herself.”
“Do you know what was said between them? Did he…”Did he hurt her? Alexander longed to ask though he feared he would not survive the answer. He hated himself for having allowed her to run off on her own.
“Mary said… Well, it doesn’t matter now,” he murmured and shook his head. Alexander could have sworn he saw tears bud in his eyes. “I think it’s high time I do some traveling.”
Alexander could hardly follow his train of thought though he guessed more was afoot than Harry was letting on. “I hear Cornwall is nice this time of year.”
“Not England. Further…Muchfurther away,” Harry explained with a small smile. “I’ve heard talk of men doing well in the colonies. Where better to start over than the land of the free?”
“Maybe it’s the drink, but exile doesn’t sound so frightful a fate.”
“Right?” Harry settled into a perch atop his seat. “You could come with me.”
“I don’t think so, Harry,” Alexander sighed, slumping back in his seat.
“What? Because of your engagement? Bring her along too!”
“You can’t be serious.”
Harry chuckled. “No. Well, not aboutyougoing, at least.”
“What will Mary say? Your Mother?Francis?”
“I might be doing them a favor. Then again…” The man quieted and began digging around in the pockets of his jacket. He pulled out a pistol and set it on the armrest. “I suppose there is always this.” Alexander felt his soul leave his body, and Harry took note. “Don’t worry,” he reassured the man. “It’s not loaded. It’s never loaded.”
“What is thematterwith you?” Alexander cried. “I thought Burkley had sent you upon me to do his bidding for a moment there.”
“Hardly,” the man scoffed. “It was my father’s. I like to keep it on me in times of trouble… should the worst come to pass.”
“The worst… as in?”
“A fight,” he suggested. “Or if I lose the will to live—trivial things like that.”
Alexander could not keep his eyes off the pistol. “Would you please…” he began and gestured for Harry to put the gun away.
“Bad memories?” Harry asked with a grimace before stuffing the pistol back in his jacket.
“The worst.”
“You’ve had it rough, haven’t you Alex?”Alexander looked at Harry queerly. He did not much like discussing his feelings at the best of times nor his difficult past, but the gun had stirred his worry. He simply looked away.
“Fine. I shall do you a kindness. But only once!” Harry stated and leaned forward. “Do you remember what I said when first we met outside the church in Bridgemouth?”
Alexander thought back. “Not clearly,” he resolved.
