“But it is,” Elias pleaded. “And I as much as anyone should know. I who grew up with you. Who knows more about who you are than any man living—who has seen the changes take you this past month. You might try and deny it, Hudson. You might fight it and wish it was not so, but the truth speaks as plainly as the look on your face. You love your wife and no amount of lying to yourself will change that.”
Again, the words rang too true for Hudson to simply deny them. He had not meant to fall for his wife. Companionship was all he had desired, a means to make married life bearable and nothing more. But somewhere along the way, he had started to feel...to feel emotions which he had spent a lifetime burying.Still, I do not know how she has done this to me. And why can I not stop them.
“What does it matter how I feel?” Hudson tried, albeit with less enthusiasm. “I never wanted this, and for good reason. Our father?—”
“Will you forget about our father!” Elias cried. “Why do you always defer to him? Why do you care?”
Hudson’s lip twitched. “Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answer? You were raised in that household,just as I was. You know what kind of man he was. You saw with your own eyes his marriage to Florentia. You want to know why I am this way? Think on that.”
Elias’ss brow scrunched and he shook his head. “It is funny in a way, but growing up, I used to envy you, you know? The attention our father would give you. How...” He clicked his tongue. “How determined he was to see that you would grow into the same man as him. He cared little for me. I now see it as a boon, because it has saved me living to a standard that has stunted you.”
“Stunted?” Hudson scoffed. “I do not see it that way.”
“You should,” Elias said. “Hudson, you have spent so much of your life trying to be like our father, but have you ever stopped to wonderwhythat has been so difficult? I mean, if our father was in the same situation as you are right now, do you think he would give a damn about what anyone else thought? Do you think he would be sitting here, thinking of his wife and how much he had hurt her?”
Hudson grimaced but then forced a straight face. “Who says that is what I am doing?”
Elias sighed. “You are not our father, Hudson. And please, take that as a compliment. You have tried to be. You have striven for it in a way that might have even made him proud...” A bitter chuckle. “But you are not him, and you never will be. I only wish that you could see that. If you could, it might make all the difference.”
“And what difference is that?”
“Happiness, for one.” A soft smile filtered across Elias’s lips before vanishing. “If not for him, I dare say it would not be me sitting across from you right now, but your wife. And where it might hurt your sensibilities to admit such a thing, I have no doubt you would be all the happier for it.”
“You are wrong,” Hudson said, but with such little conviction that it came out a whisper. “Dead wrong.”
“Maybe I am...” He shrugged and went back to looking out the window. “I almost pray for it, because it kills me to see you suffering like this, brother. You have no idea how much.”
Hudson frowned to himself, wanting to be angered by his brother’s words, unable to because he saw the truth in them. Everything he said…it was not in malice or spite or hate. Elias cared for him deeply, he always had. And all he ever wanted for Hudson was the best.
It was a shame that Hudson was so stubborn. That he had spent his lifetime hammering into himself lessons and beliefs which now seemed fraught with mistakes, frayed around the edges, nowhere near as solid and foundational as he might wish.Is it possible, what he says? That I am not my father? That my entire life has been a lie? And is that such a bad thing?
Before Hudson had a chance to say anything else, perhaps a final effort to swat away his brother’s words, the carriage came to a stop, for they had finally arrived at their destination.
Elias wasted no time in clambering from the carriage, not a word spoken, leaving Hudson to sit alone in darkness and silence both, feeling as lost and unsure as he ever had. He looked to the moon, his chest tightened, and he found that in his loneliness, what he wished for most of all was the company of his wife.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Your Grace, are you ready?” Mr. Andrews stood in the doorway, nervously waiting for Hudson to leave with him.
“Hmm?” Hudson looked up, almost surprised to see Mr. Andrews there. He shouldn’t have been, as he’d been alerted to his broker’s arrival not two minutes ago.
“Are you ready?” Mr. Andrews repeated. “Mr. Bond is downstairs waiting, and the horses have been saddled. I’ve also sent ahead to ensure that Mr. Thomas and his partners will be ready to begin the moment that we arrive.”
“Oh...” Hudson blinked and gave his head a shake. “Well done, Mr. Andrews.”
“It is not a problem, Your Grace. Today is a big day, and it would not do to not be prepared.” His smile was triumphant. “And if allgoes well today, I dare say that by the time the sun sets, we are going to have much to celebrate. You, especially.”
“Yes...” Hudson looked past Mr. Andrews, his mind drifting as it had been doing all morning. “That is...that is good to hear.”
Mr. Andrews said nothing, likely expecting Hudson to walk across the room and join him, for there was nothing left to do but leave here as was planned. But Hudson did no such thing, still looking past Mr. Andrews, his thoughts elsewhere, regardless of his efforts to restrain them.
“Ah, Your Grace...” Mr. Andrews cleared his throat. “Shall we...” He indicated out the doorway.
Hudson barely paid his broker any attention, again unable to stop thinking on that which had been plaguing him all evening and all morning. His sleep last night had been rotten, tossing and turning in a wholly predictable manner, even if he still refused to admit the cause. He was just nervous, he told himself. He was anxious. The bed was lumpy! Whatever he needed to say to explain away the obvious.
This morning was no better. His body ached. His mind was frazzled. His stomach was a twisted mass of knots. And his chest...he could hardly breathe.
It was guilt that besieged him so. Shame too, there was plenty of that. The sense of knowing that he was so utterly in the wrong, paired with an inability to do anything to change it because he was so damn stubborn that he refused to take an action that onthe face of it was so simple, yet bore consequences from which there would be no going back.
