Page 81 of To Hunt the Hunter

“But the rest of us are here now,” Bonnie said, finding Matilda’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “And we’ll ruin anyone who says a word against you, won’t we ladies?”

“We will,” Jemima said, looking as if her heart was breaking.

“Absolutely,” Harriet agreed, her voice muffled as she blew her nose on a large pink handkerchief.

“Indeed, we will,” Aashini said, her beautiful eyes filled with sorrow as they met Matilda’s.

Matilda laughed, despite everything. The pain was too overwhelming to be eased, but her friends were here with her, lending her their strength, their comfort and support, and that meant the world, that meant the difference between enduring alone, and surviving.

“I love all of you,” she said, somehow forcing the words out though her throat was aching, too tight to swallow.

“As we love you, Tilda,” Minerva said, tears streaming down her face. “And we’ll protect you and keep you safe. We always will.”

She nodded and accepted the handkerchief that Jemima pressed into her hands, wiping her eyes.

“We’re coming with you,” Jemima said. “Back to London. The carriages are almost ready to leave.”

Matilda straightened, panic lancing through her. “So soon, but… oh, but I must go to him, I have to say goodbye, I must….”

“Oh, love,” Ruth said sadly, her voice trembling. “I’m so terribly sorry, but he’s gone.”

Chapter 22

My dearest love,

I hope you can forgive me for leaving as I did. You must believe me a coward, and it is no more than the truth. I could not say goodbye to you, Matilda. I do not have it in me to say the words to your face and walk away. I would only need to see the tears in your eyes and my resolution would fail me, even as it fails me now.

I know what loss feels like, my darling. What it is to have the world you relied upon swept away and to be left adrift, yet I have never known pain like this. How I shall endure it, I do not know. I will wear the pain of my loss like a hair shirt, so I might always remember the joy too, the extraordinary privilege of being loved by you. Perhaps my only saving grace is that I know I was never worthy of it, though I wished to be more than anything.

If there is such a thing as another life, as Pippin insists there is, I shall find you again, and perhaps in that lifetime, we shall find a way.

I cannot imagine how I will look Phoebe in the eyes and explain this to her, or if she will ever forgive me when I cannot forgive myself. I pray she does not hate me.

There will never be another in my heart, my love, my soul grieves for all I must turn away from. I wish it were otherwise. I am yours, always.

M.

―Excerpt of a letter from The Most Honourable Lucian Barrington, Marquess of Montagu to Miss Matilda Hunt.

***

Lucian,

There is nothing I can say. Of course I forgive you, though I feel you have stolen from me the last days of happiness that I will ever have. Yet I understand how the dead weigh upon your soul, how they shape your life. Only remember that life is for the living, my love, and try to find some measure of joy. It does not soothe my heart to know you will be as wretched as I am. I love you too much to want you to feel such pain.

Live, Lucian. Live for Phoebe and for those children who you make this sacrifice for or else what was the point of it?

I sometimes wonder if you have ever contemplated your heir as anything more than an abstract idea. Have you ever considered that he will be a child, your son, and that you will love him as you love Phoebe, that you will want to protect him and will wish for his happiness more than for your own? Don’t bring him into the world with nothing but duty and honour as his purpose in life. Don’t condemn him and all those who follow him to live as you have done. There is more. We know there is so much more.

Goodbye, Lucian.

I will love you always.

Yours ever,

Matilda.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Matilda Hunt to The Most Honourable Lucian Barrington, Marquess of Montagu.