“Mr. Hunter has had another child. I should send him a gift.” Luke muttered.
He made a point of sending small tokens to his tenants, to mark particularly important milestones in their lives. It felt like the right thing to do, and it added a kind of order to things in his mind. He knew that the gifts were a small expense, but that often they meant a lot to his people.
During hard years, the gifts meant they were not so angry about their hardship. And in good years, well, it allowed them to feel like their efforts were shared.
There was a satisfying symmetry to the whole thing. In his mind, he imagined Mr. Hunter’s cottage, the sound of raucous children’s laughter filling it.
“Just like at Emberly.” He felt a sense of longing wash over him. “The big family. The noise. The children. The wife..”
Someone was humming. What were they humming? He realised it was him. It was a nursery rhyme, one he had heard young Lord Arthur sing to his siblings.
“Luke?” A voice sounded from the doorway, and he turned to see his brother.
Dread filled him. He remembered where his brother had come from, and from his expression, it had gone well. Rodger’s face was the picture of happiness as he strode towards him. Lukeswallowed, trying to calm his emotions.What kind of monster am I, that I cannot be happy for my own brother?
“I take it your errand went well?” His voice sounded far away and distant.
“It went exceptionally well.” Rodger beamed at him. “I did exactly as you said. I asked the woman I love to marry me. And she said yes.”
The bottom fell out of his stomach. He turned away from Rodger, unable to look at him. Images of his brother and Emily walking down the aisle together flooded his brain.
He started to shake.
“I thought you would be happy.” Rodger sounded concerned.
“I am happy.” Luke’s voice was strained.
Rodger’s brow creased. “You look as though you are going to be sick.”
Luke clenched his fist, his voice gruff as he said. “I am fine. I am happy for you, brother.”
He turned towards Rodger, and hugged him, even as it felt like his heart was shattering.She chose him. You let her go. You have no right to be upset.
“I thought you would be pleased to know that we have decided to go the traditional route, and have the banns read.” Rodger beamed at him. “In the parish here.”
“How very proper of you.” Luke said numbly.
“It was her idea actually, apparently she has always liked the tradition.” He added in a stage whisper, “If you ask me, I think she has a secret flair for the dramatic.”
“Then it seems you have made a fine choice. Emily will be the perfect wife.” Luke moved towards the decanter of whiskey on the table, and set aside two of the nearby glasses.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his hands.
“Emily?” Luke could hear the suspicion in his brother’s voice.
Damn.He shook his head, and made a dismissive gesture. “Miss Pembleton.”
He turned to face Rodger, working to keep his face neutral and impassive. He could see the gears turning in his brother’s brain.He cannot know the truth.
“You said Emily.” Rodger moved towards him, his eyes narrowing as he did so. “Not Miss Pembleton, but Emily. Not even… Miss Emily.”
“I did not.” Luke took a sip of his drink, hesitated and then downed it, as he held the second glass out to Rodger.
His brother waved the drink away. “You did, I heard you.”
“You are mistaken brother.” Luke’s hand shook, and he pushed the glass into Rodger’s hand.
“I am not. You said her name.” Rodger nodded, his eyes wide. “I knew it, I knew there was something between you two!”
