Page 40 of Destined to be a Duchess
More than anything, Anthony thought, he still wanted answers. He glanced over at the servant accompanying them, assuming that Warren had sworn all of his staff to secrecy. He did not seem like the type of lord to allow disobedience among his servants. Regardless, Anthony dropped his voice low.
“Then pray, accept this question. Have you heard of a physician named Doctor de Laurier?”
Warren fell silent for a moment. “I cannot say that I have.”
“I’ve discovered that he was my father’s physician during the last months of his life, yet when I interviewed the doctor, he refused to tell me anything about my father’s illness. I cannot fathom why.” Anthony settled against the trunk of a tree, pausing their walk. “What do you know of what happened to him? He told my mother nothing about his illness, but he must have confided insomeone.”
Having averted his eyes to the ground, Warren turned suddenly to gesture the servant away.
“You must understand that I can relay only what Edward told me,” Warren confessed, his tone grave. “I imagine that if he was hiding the greater extent of his illness from Catherine, then there were many things he hid from me as well.
I know that he fell ill towards the beginning of the year, suffering at first from headaches and tiredness. He complained at times about pains in his chest—but for the most part, he kept the matters of his health to himself. Now, if you are asking what could lead a man to want to protect such a secret from those he loves most …”
“I was not,” Anthony said, raising his voice over the rumble of thunder in the distance. “But now I must know what you are thinking.”
“It is more than likely that Edward was simply more prideful than we knew. It is not easy to declare one’s shortcomings to the world. In the eyes of many, a man is only so useful as he is healthy. It would not be difficult to imagine that Edward kept his condition a secret so as not to worry you or your mother.”
It was not the first time Anthony had been told as much. Marianne had suggested the same thing before they had left for the hunting party. But unlike Marianne, Warren seemed to know more than he was letting on.
“That much I understand. What eludes me is what killed him.” Anthony scrubbed a hand over his face. “The theories that I have come up with …”
“You will come to learn, as all sons must, that our sires are not beyond reproach. In Edward’s case, his only sin was his pride.” Warren looked Anthony straight in the eye.
“There are a host of illnesses a man might seek to keep secret from his family because admitting the origin of the sickness would dishonour him. Such is not the case for Edward. He was honourable until the end. Whatever took him from us was unpreventable and undeserved. You must try to take comfort in that.”
“I will,” Anthony let out a shaky breath, “for what little comfort that provides. Yet he gave you reason to believe that he was sicker than he was letting on?”
Warren sighed, waving the servant back over to them as they continued their walk—with Anthony’s heart a little lighter.
"I knew Edward for the better part of my life,” Warren continued, “which means I knew when he was lying. He put on a brave face to be certain, but there were matters he began to discuss: the future—your future. So yes, I assumed he knew that he was dying and wanted to prepare for his passing.”
“And yet you agreed to the race regardless.” Anthony let the accusation hang in the air. Warren didn’t seem inclined to comment—too full of pride, just like his father. “These matters you mentioned … What were they?”
“Oh, there are more than I could list. He expressed a desire to sell off some unentailed properties, to mend some bridges he had once thought burnt.” Warren steered Anthony between the trees onto a well-trodden path. “And, of course, we spoke at length about you. He had many hopes for you, not solely concerning the title, but your personal ambitions and your art.”
Anthony recalled the painting he had destroyed, intended for his father’s birthday. His heart panged with guilt.
“And naturally, there were discussions about your role as the duke …”
Warren put a hand out to stop Anthony. He looked up, seeing they had arrived in a clearing within the forest. A small stream cut through the woods, swelling into a larger pool just out of sight. The susurrus of the water could barely be heard over the patter of the rain atop it. Anthony admired the scene momentarily, scared to ask Warren what his father had planned for him.
“Did he envision much for me?”
“Many things.” Warren called the servant over, asking for one of his rifles. “I had hoped to broach the topic under different circumstances, but as I said, we have scarcely had a moment of privacy since you all arrived …”
Anthony watched Warren prepare his rifle, taking his time to load it as the rain subsided. It was an objectively beautiful instrument, even though Anthony had never enjoyed hunting for sport like most of his peers.
“You know what I’m going to say,” Warren suggested as Anthony focused on the bullet between his fingers. “Edward wanted to see you with Eliana almost as much as I did.”
He had expected that from the tone of Warren’s voice, but the news met its target with devastating force all the same.
“My father never stressed the issue when he was alive,” Anthony countered. “He wanted me to select my own bride when the time came, even if he had his preferences.”
“Yet in those months leading up to his death, he endorsed her most passionately. You know I would not lie about this. I have always wanted both you and Eliana to forge your own paths—though I agreed with Edward in the end. A match between you would be the most secure, sensible option. It would not take much to convince Eliana. In fact, I have reason to believe that your absence made her heart grow fonder.”
Bile tickled at the back of Anthony’s throat. He had always known that he and Eliana would be miserable together. But his dead father’s words carried just enough weight to make him doubt himself.
“She would be a perfect duchess,” Warren said, finally done loading the rifle. He practiced aiming towards the stream, then dropped the gun and set his sights on Anthony. “And I believe you would be content with her in time. The marriage between your own parents was arranged by their families—and were they not deliriously happy all this time? It was Edward’s wish that we bring this up to you upon your return. With him gone, I alone am tasked with passing on his blessing.”
