Page 29 of The Brooding Duke's Fateful Letter
“Gladly, Your Grace.” Her love for her new pet was evident. He left her to enjoy getting accustomed to taking care of her new friend while he joined the hunting team.
“The best of the litter, Your Grace. That is a big gift.” Cecil said quietly as they tracked a deer.
“It is only right that I give my intended the very best,” Henry replied.
“I agree, Your Grace. I hope she realizes that the small creature is worth more than diamonds,” Cecil said shaking his head.
“So was the happy look she had upon receiving the gift,” the duke replied honestly.
“I do not pretend to understand dog breeds,” Cecil remarked. “You know, I do believe the Lady has had quite a positive effect on your demeanor, Your Grace.”
“I can not disagree with you.” The duke then pointed to a bush on the left of him. The bush rustled, and they both fell silent as they waited. A few seconds went by and nothing dared move. Suddenly, the deer burst towards them. The duke watched as the deer ran towards him. He readied his rifle and held his breath as he took aim.
Steady. Got him! The duke thought as he finally put the animal at rest. They had been searching for a young buck when they had spotted this wounded deer. They had immediately abandoned their hunt and had found the animal at last. Almost six hours of tracking had the men thirsty and tired. This hunt could however not be left for another day. This was a mercy kill.
“Another hunter must have done this and feared hunting on your grounds, Your Grace,” Cecil said with sadness.
“True old friend. I would have rather settled for the Hunter to have trespassed and finished the deed,” the duke replied, maddened that this creature had suffered.
The servants moved quickly to gather the animal to take it to the nearby village. The duke hunted only for his household when needed. On this occasion, he would send the meat and animal hide into the village. There, those who had not seen so much as bread for days, would feast tonight. He did it in honor of his father, who had come from a poor background andnever forgotten where he had come from. Even with his Royal background!
As for the estate. They could expect the first kill of quail for supper as they had sent it for preparation this morning.
“Cecil? Do you remember how nervous I was before Lady Bethany came here?” the duke asked, knowing his friend would tease him.
“Your Grace, I recall vaguely,” Cecil said in a teasing manner, remembering how the duke had been plagued by worry.
“I have changed my mind about her, you know.” The duke said. “Did you notice how when she was vexed at those three that her accent became more… French?”
“I thought so too, Your Grace. I believe she had an education there.” Cecil replied.
“That is also what I heard.” The duke frowned, but then dismissed his qualms about her.
Did it matter that much if I thought her English and she is of French descent? Hardly! My every attempt has been to besmear her, but no longer.
“Your Grace,” Tristan said, speaking for the first time in a long while. “It might be time to start again with Lady Bethany.”
The duke and Cecil looked oddly at Tristan.
“It is not like you to make this much sense, Tristan.” The duke said with a surprised grin.
“Perhaps, Your Grace. You see, I too have found a lady who both consumes and confounds me. Better still, she has eased an anger within me I have struggled with all my life,” Tristan said with a smile.
“We all seem to be better men then,” the duke said, sealing his decision in place. I shall start afresh with My Lady,” the duke declared, still unable to believe the spoilt child had so easily turned into a beguiling swan. He hoped that he might have even the slightest amount of a profound meaning in her life as she did in his.
If she means that much to you, why do you still conceal the truth from her? The duke’s mind asked the perfectly reasonable question. Could it be that you remember that even then there is nothing about you any woman would want?
“Time to head home, gentlemen,” The duke announced. The duke was well known for going on hunts that would last theday or at the very least till nightfall. Now, it gave him more joy having someone to return home to. Someone who had erased all the doubt eating at him.
“Your Grace, who is acting out of character now?” Tristan said and was met with a good natured chuckle from the group.
“Not at all. I am starving,” the duke said, as he felt genuine pangs of hunger.
“Your Grace, it is ungentlemanly to speak of such things,” Cecil said, getting in on the game.
“Gentlemen, I am merely referring to the quail.” The duke spoke truthfully, yet with a mischievous glint in his eye. Servants loaded rifles, ammunition, and necessities, boiling water for hand washing and tea. Once the carriage was ready, four man-servants lifted the duke into the open aired vehicle. They made it to seat six people instead of the usual two or four.
“Your Grace, it is strange to return from hunting before midday,” Cecil remarked as the estate came into view.
