Page 44 of The Marquess's Imperfect Brid
Grace shook her head, willing herself to relax and give the older woman a true smile.
“I believe that today’s lesson is just what I need,” she said, pleased that she sounded so sure of herself.
Abigail eventually nodded, leading her into the music room. The children, exuberant as ever, surrounded her, chatting excitedly. It was heartwarming to see how all the children had, in fact, missed her. She greeted them, choosing to keep her feelings buried as far as she could press then. Then, she sat at the pianoforte as she always did, disappearing into the notes of the music immediately. She let the music express her feelings in the ways that her words could not. And for that brief time, the pain that now existed where her heart once had been was much closer to bearable.
***
Gareth had no intention of dressing and joining anyone for breakfast. If he could manage it, he would stay in his chambers until Lady Cecilia and her family got tired of waiting for him to come down. His mother and father could shout any threats they liked from the other side of his door. If there was even a small chance it would mean that he could tend to his wounded heart in peace and get rid of Lady Cecilia, he was willing to try. However, when James knocked on his chamber door, he begrudgingly dragged himself to answer it.
“James,” he said, staring at the butler. “Pray convey to Mother and Father that I am indisposed and shall not be descending today.”
The butler’s expression was grim, and he shook his head.
“I am afraid that will not be possible,” he said, stepping aside to reveal the duchess behind him. “Your father summons you.”
Gareth stared at his mother, who was glaring at him.
“Your father wishes to speak with you immediately,” she said, turning around without waiting for an answer. “Do not keep him waiting.”
Gareth sighed heavily. He silently followed his mother and the butler down the stairs and to the parlor, preparing himself for the discussion he was sure to come regarding his impending marriage to Lady Cecilia. He was still suffering too terribly from Lady Grace’s rejection that he did not know if he could argue with any decisions or plans that his father had made. Perhaps, it would be best to just comply with the wedding and satisfy them. If the woman he loved did not want him, what was to stop him?
“Gareth,” the duke said, his expression unusually grim and solemn.
Gareth nodded.
“Yes, Father,” he said, resigned to the imminent conversation.
The duke looked at his son, and for a moment, Gareth thought there was concern in his eyes. But Ian Darnall looked away from his son with a shake of his head, making Gareth uncertain of what he saw.
“I have received a disturbing letter from one of my associates,” he said, holding up three pieces of paper that appeared to have been gripped tightly in someone’s fist recently. “It seems that Percival is on her verge of financial ruin.”
Gareth was so surprised by the information that the ache in his heart stalled.
“What do you mean?” he asked, shaking his head in confusion. “I thought Lady Cecilia’s family was incredibly wealthy. That was one of the reasons why Mother and you were so insistent on me marrying her.”
The duke nodded, looking at his son again with tired eyes.
“That is what I was led to believe,” he said. “These allegations contradict everything we have been told, both by the Bingham’s and by everyone we have encountered who knows them. But according to my associate, they went as far as to use the last of Percival’s money to pay people to perpetuate their claims of wealth.”
Gareth stared blankly at his father, trying to make sense of the words through the haze in which he had been left after Lady Grace’s rejection.
“What does this mean?” he asked.
Ian drew a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy gust.
“You are to hold off on any marriage plans with Cecilia until I can gather more facts,” he said. “Although, with the information I now have, and some alleged evidence that I am to investigate for myself this afternoon, I admit that the chances of you being able to move forward with a marriage to her at all are very grim.”
Gareth’s head throbbed with the efforts to grapple with the revelation. He was relieved that he would not have to marry Lady Cecilia after all, and he was not terribly surprised that she and her family had lied about their fortune. He had suspected for many years that they were not quite what they portrayed. If it were not for the uncertainty of what he should do after the denial from Lady Grace, he might have leapt from his seat with joy.
“Yes, Father,” he said, rising from his seat as his father returned back to the letter with a silent, dismissive way. He might have once felt bad for his father at learning such devastating news. But the duke had forced him to endure greattorment over the past weeks about Lady Cecilia. He felt that it was a little just that his father should now suffer in a similar fashion. Perhaps, that was just his broken heart speaking. But he could not muster any sympathy for someone who had none for him right then.
Desperate to clear his mind, Gareth headed for the stables, not bothering to change into a riding habit. He mounted Lord Hoofers without a saddle and set off on a ride across the countryside. He knew what he was doing was reckless. But his mind was too preoccupied to care. He had believed that the mess of thoughts in his mind could not get worse. Now, he could not help thinking that if his father had received the information about Lord Birington and his family sooner, he might have been able to win over Lady Grace much sooner and earn her love.
The wind in his hair soothed his tense body, but it did little to bring rest to his mind. He urged his steed forward, hoping to find solace in the steady rhythm of the thrumming of his hooves against the ground beneath them. But what he found as he topped a nearby hill was not soothing or restful, and his heart dropped into his stomach.
Over the hill was a rider he recognized immediately. Lord Neil Farraway rode toward him, and the closer he drew, the more Gareth could see his face. The gentleman wore an expression of determination. Gareth entertained the idea of riding past, hoping to lose the man in the forest. But something in Lord Neil’s eyes made him decide at the very last moment to stop. He eased Lord Hoofers into a trot, then to a standstill, waiting for the gentleman to approach. What could he possibly want?
Chapter Twenty-five
