AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Until then,” Matthew echoed, waiting for a moment or two before slumping back down into his chair, his heart aching with a deep and terrible misery that he did not think would ever let him go. Closing his eyes, he drew in air, trying to calm his frantic heart and yet still, all he wanted to do was shout aloud with both fear and despair.
If his dear love was gone from this world, without him ever having the chance to see her or even speak to her again, then what hope was there for him? He had waited far too long, confused by her silence and telling himself that he was doing the right thing in stepping away from her. Perhaps he had, in fact, left her for far too long. He had been a little afraid that if he had written to her, had called upon her, that she might tell him that their courtship, their regard for each other, was to come to an end. It had been easier for his heavy mind to pretend that things were still just as they had been, but with a space between them for the present so that she might be able to mourn her father’s death in her own time.
He had been a coward.
Leaning forward, Matthew put a hand over his eyes and groaned quietly. What a fool he had been! And now, perhaps, it would be too late. Too late for him to tell her that he had never stopped thinking of her, that not a day had passed without her being in his thoughts. His heart had still ached for her, his arms feeling empty without her by his side. And yet, he had done nothing. He had told himself that it was for the best; he had allowed himself to become entirely distracted by all the difficulties that had gone on in the League last Season and had not done as he ought. If he had done so, then mayhap she might have told him all that she was struggling with, and she might have been honest with him about what she had learned about her father’s actions in the few weeks before his death.
Instead, he had done nothing—and now it felt as though he would be without her forever. He would never have the chance to make amends, to tell her just how sorry he was for all that had occurred. For the rest of his days, he would bear this burden on his soul—and it had been all his own fault.
“Things have much improved, I hope.”
Putting a broad smile on his face and a cheeriness in his voice that he did not feel, Matthew greeted Lord Westbrook warmly.
“Much improved indeed,” Lord Westbrook answered with a grin. “Lady Esther is doing very well also, although she is somewhat frustrated that we must return to the estate soon.”
Matthew frowned. “You do not intend to stay for the rest of the Season?”
“She must soon go into her confinement,” Lord Westbrook explained, making Matthew catch his breath, a true smile spreading across his face as his friend beamed with pride. “Although she is not greatly impressed with such a thing, I confess.”
“My hearty congratulations!” Matthew cried, truly happy for Lord Westbrook. “That is wonderful news. Do give Lady Esther my very best wishes. After what she has endured, I think this is exactly what she deserves.” He slapped Lord Westbrook on the shoulder. “What you both deserve.”
“I will,” Lord Westbrook said, thanking him. “I am sorry I cannot stay in London for as long as I had first expected, but there are ongoing concerns that can be dealt with n
ear to my estate.”
“But of course,” Matthew said firmly, not wanting to have Lord Westbrook risk himself for anything of a serious nature, given that he would soon be welcoming a baby into his family. “Please, you need not concern yourself. There are a few matters here in London, yes, but there are plenty of us here who can take them on. Your most important concern at the present must be Lady Esther.” He smiled, and Lord Westbrook let out a slow breath of evident relief, seemingly glad that the League did not require him.
Matthew gestured for Lord Westbrook to continue on through to the drawing room where the rest of the gentlemen were waiting, ready to begin another meeting of The King’s League.
The King’s League was primarily used to protect the Crown – which included both the King himself, ill as he was, and the Prince Regent. Given that there were those who wished to take advantage of the King’s illness and absence from court, the League worked tirelessly to ensure that those who might want to bring harm to England in any way were brought to justice. The French had a good many spies amongst them at present, and those spies could not be permitted to make any headway in their plans. The League did all they could to stop them, whilst maintaining their façade that they were nothing more than gentlemen of the ton.
Matthew had always been glad to be a part of it, feeling as though he was doing something beneficial for his country. When he had first started courting Miss Williams, he had known then that Lord Harrogate would be keeping a careful eye on him, but also that he had an advantage from other gentlemen in that Lord Harrogate knew of his dedication and devotion to his country.
Before Lord Harrogate’s death, Matthew had never really known someone personally whose life had been taken from them due to their involvement in the League. Yes, there had been one or two who had gone from their company and been quietly commended by those in the League left behind, but he had never known them personally. Lord Harrogate’s death had been a shock.
Clearing his throat, Matthew walked into the drawing room and looked all about it, seeing the men sitting in various corners of the room, with some standing and talking to each other in low voices. They all glanced up as he walked further in, evidently expecting him to address them all.
“Thank you all for coming,” Matthew said quietly, sitting down in a chair near to the hearth, which had only a small fire within it. “We have a few things to discuss this evening, as well as some reports on how certain endeavors have gone.” He gestured to Lord Montague and then to Lord Harrison. “And on top of that, I have been told by Lord Templeton that he will soon step back from the League and begin to consider his retirement.” He heard a murmur of surprise go around the room and smiled briefly at Lord Monteforte, who was nodding in understanding, being that he also was drawing close to that age when one might start thinking about quiet nights by the fire and days spent wandering through the grounds of one’s estate with very little else to occupy one’s time.
“The greatest matter which faces us now,” Matthew continued, as silence began to fall across the group again, “is the matter of Lord Harrogate’s death.” Waiting for a moment and fully expecting someone to say something about that, he was surprised when not even a single murmur broke the quiet. “It has been two years, I know,” he continued, aware that every eye was on him. “But given just how much we had to deal with last Season, as well as the difficulties we then faced in finding out anything about the gentlemen Lord Harrogate was dealing with before his death, we have had a good deal set against us. Now, however, the time has come for us to focus on it entirely.” Drawing in a long breath, he lifted his chin and looked at each gentleman in turn. “Some of you have your own assignments already underway. You are not to give them up. Continue on as you have been and do not let anything distract you from them. Those who do not, you will come alongside me and work with me to find out who took Lord Harrogate’s life from him and why. We owe it to him to discover the truth.”
“Hear, hear,” someone said, lifting their glass in a toast. “We will have justice.”
“Indeed,” Matthew stated, as the other gentlemen of the League lifted their glasses in agreement. “We will have the justice Lord Harrogate’s family deserves, one way or another. They will not be allowed to escape the consequences of their actions.”
So saying, he lifted the glass of brandy to his lips and drank deeply, his lips pulling into a thin, grim line. The perpetrators would not be long for this earth, once their identity became known. They had taken the life of a gentleman of the League, and of a friend, and their actions could not be allowed to stand. That, he knew, was in the heart of every gentleman here, and resounded all the more loudly in his own heart.
“And for Daisy,” he whispered, before throwing back the rest of his brandy and swallowing it in one large gulp.
Chapter Three
“Lord Templeton.”
Daisy bobbed a quick curtsy before walking a little further into the room, sitting down in the chair that Lord Templeton gestured towards. He had not said a word to her as yet, his eyes still remaining fixed and calculated as he watched her.
“I am returned to London, as you can see,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I had to call upon you just as soon as I could.”
Lord Templeton arched one eyebrow. “You are not dead and buried, then.”
