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“I thank you, Henry,” Alexander said somberly.
Alexander found himself suddenly impatient for news of Bridget.
“Bridget?” he said, hoping that the single word was question enough as he raised his eyebrows and looked into the kindly face of his best friend.
“Ah,” Henry said and looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I am afraid I must talk with you.”
***
The marble floor shimmered in the shine of the light spilling in through windows. Two stairways led opposite each other from her right and left to the upper floor. The house was ornamented with antique joinery, Venetian chandeliers and stone columns. The corridors were decorated with antique furniture, impressive paintings and tapestries.
“Why don’t we sit ourselves down in the drawing room, Alexander?” Henry
said, almost forcibly edging his friend in that direction.
Alexander knew his friend well and had immediately seen through his determinedly cheerful tone. As much as Alexander wanted to hear it, he also feared it. He was certain it had much to do with Bridget, and there was a part of him which did not want to hear it at all. Whatever it was, it was bad, he knew that much.
Alexander had taken a seat in one of the armchairs at the side of the fireplace. He simply stared at the iron grate and waited patiently for his life to unravel yet further still.
“I really was so terribly sorry to hear of your father’s passing, Alexander. I have always had, as I am sure you know, the highest regard for your father and have found myself greatly moved by his death.”
“I know it as surely as I know it of myself, Henry. And my father looked upon you as another son.”
“Well, perhaps you ought to tell me everything you need to tell me now, Henry," Alexander said after taking a deep breath.
“And so, you have guessed there is something to tell?” Henry said quietly.
“I knew there was something to tell the moment I saw you standing in my doorway, Henry.”
"I am afraid that it is not good news.”
“At least tell me that Bridget is well,” Alexander said and suddenly realized a sharp fear that something had happened to her.
“She is entirely unharmed, Alexander. You may rest easy on that count.”
“On that count, if on no other,” Alexander said and raised his eyebrows. "You know, of course, why our correspondence began to change.”
“I am afraid I do know,” Hnery said and turned his head to look fully at his friend.
“So, are you about to tell me that Bridget has become better interested in another man?”
“Yes, in a manner of speaking.”
“But tell me there is some hope for me. Tell me that my return home will be enough to put things right again.”
“ Alexander ... She lives now in the very heart of the Duchy of Cumberland. She stays there as the Duchess of Cumberland,” Henry said .
“Bridget is the Duchess of Cumberland? But that is ridiculous, she is not …” Alexander stopped; finally, he had realized exactly what had happened.
Alexander thought about her last letter to him and tried to remember the exact details. He had kept the letter, of course, and knew that he would return to it the moment his friend left him alone. He knew, of course, that it had contained little of personal content, and now he knew why.
Chapter Two
???
London, One Year Later
“I am here to speak to His Grace.”
