Page 4 of An Earl's Scandalous Return
Love was lost to her, though. Forever. And more than one kind of grief still remained.
***
A smile lingered on Edward’s face after he left dinner with his father, and he wandered down the passage to the study. His father had encouraged him to use it while he was home since he had barely used it during his illness. Edward opened the door and breathed deep: tobacco, leather, whisky.
It reminded him of everything that had to do with his kind and loving father, and he stepped inside, afraid to disturb the very familiar scene.
He walked to the corner where a whisky decanter sat and poured himself a glass. A servant had already lit and stoked the fire, so the room was comfortable and warm. He paused at the window briefly, looking out onto the London night before sitting in one of the armchairs.
At least listening to London gossip for a few hours had distracted him. He’d laughed, asked questions, and loved watching the amused light in his father’s eyes as he told the stories. Taking a sip, he now knew he would have plenty to discuss with his old acquaintances at the next ball. For a ball was coming up in a few days, and he knew it would make his father happy if he went.
But what if she is there?
It was a very distinct possibility. There had been no word of her marriage to anyone, not that he’d been keeping tabs while away, but he was certain his father or a friend would have mentioned it. And so, he had no idea what it would feel like to see her again at the ball. Would it feel the same as when she’d torn out his heart?
He closed his eyes, and her face instantly came to mind again. There had been so much good in the past when he’d realised that his heart belonged solely to her. The way he’d kissed her under a tree in the dappled sunlight. The way she’d laughed when he’d said something funny.
The way she was always sensible, always knew what to say. Even after four years, now that he was allowing his mind to think of her, it all came back so clearly. So, he hadn’t forgotten her as he thought he had. As he hoped he had.
His eyes snapped open, and he threw back the rest of the whisky, annoyed that the feelings were still there, as strong as ever. He would have to go to the ball, but Edward made a silent promise to himself.
Never would he let her see, even for one moment, how she had completely shattered his world four years ago when she’d chosen something else over him, over their future together.
Chapter 4
Jacinda’s father, the Duke of Gloucester, muttered to himself as he tore open a strange letter on his desk. His wife awaited him with a tray of tea and biscuits, but he thought one more letter couldn’t hurt.
And it was a strange one at that, with rough handwriting on the outside and no seal. It was certainly not a ton member who sent this or one of his friends, for it came from Hamfield, a small village in God knew where.
His eyes widened when he read the contents, and his stomach turned. Standing up, he kept a tight grip on the letter and raced out of the study and down the hall to the private sitting room. When he entered, his wife looked up at him with a smile, but it faded when she saw his face.
“Darius, what is it?”
“Sarah, look at this.” He handed her the letter and sat down next to her. Just like he imagined he had, her face paled, and her eyes widened.
“Dear God. No, it cannot be.”
His jaw ticked. “I will send for Jacinda at once. She cannot marry this man with such a sordid history. It will ruin her, and I have worked so hard for a good life for my daughter, and I will not have her taken down by this … this … whatever he is. I’m going to tell her now.” He marched to the door and sent a servant after her.
He began pacing while his wife bit her lower lip.
“Yes, Father?” Jacinda practically floated into the room, her smile ever-present since the engagement had been officially announced.
Clearing his throat, he handed her the letter. “I have just received this. About your newly betrothed.”
Jacinda still smiled until she read the contents of the letter, and then she began to frown, a line furrowing her brow.
“I don’t understand.”
“It means, my dear, that you will not be marrying Lord Montrose.”
“What?” she cried, and his heart broke a little for her. He did not wish to hurt his daughter, but this was the only way. “But why?”
“Did you not read the disgusting letter here?” He pointed to it. “You will not be taken down by this. I will not have you lower yourself.”
“But I don’t care about this.” She tossed the letter to the side as tears streamed down her face. “I love him, Father. I will marry him no matter what.”
He lifted a brow and glanced at his pale-faced wife. His voice was firm as he said, “That I will not have, Jacinda, dear. You will end this engagement at the ball in a couple of days, or I shall end it for you.”
