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“Well, I can’t be sure how much of what she was with me was real or fake,” Marcus said, leading the horse off as Sherborne followed.
“She was always herself, my lord, that was my problem,” Sherborne said with barely restrained frustration. “I know it was bound to be sooner rather than later that you discovered her secret.”
“I didn’t, though, did I?”
“You are blind.”
“You are coming thick and fast with the insults for a valet,” Marcus said with a warning tone, to which Sherborne turned a mischievous smile in his direction.
“Blind is hardly that much of an insult, is it? Do you deny it’s justified?”
“I could come up with an argument against it.” Marcus urged Sherborne to walk faster as he towed the horse across the estate, eager to reach the tavern as fast as possible. He didn’t care if it was still early in the day. He needed that drink more than ever before now.
His mind was working fast, going over every moment he had lived with Lady Violette and seeing it now for what it had truly been. After they had walked a little way in silence, Marcus had to accept it aloud.
“You’re right. I’m as blind as a bat.”
***
“Another,” Marcus said as he beckoned to the barmaid in the tavern. Two more brandies were shortly placed in front of himself and Sherborne. They were sitting opposite each other at a small table in front of a fireplace, with the empty plates of the lunch and dinner they had shared nearby and the multitude of glasses too. The barmaid took the plates away as she disappeared.
“We have to go back sometime,” Sherborne said, sipping his next brandy.
“Not yet,” Marcus said, lolling to the side in his seat. He could feel how much the alcohol had taken control of his body now. It made his wish to stay in the tavern for a little longer, even greater. “I need to go over it again.”
“What’s to go over anymore? We’ve been over it so many times already,” Sherborne said tiredly. “What is left that you could possibly want to know?”
“I just…” Marcus paused and hung his head down, thinking once more of it all. All he really wanted to know was in his memories. He had never denied that Mr Victor Blake had become his closest friend in those weeks together. It was now just realising that his closest friend was indeed Lady Violette after all. “She was amazing at cricket,” Marcus said after a minute with a laugh.
“Ha! She didn’t know the rules at first. I had to tell her,” Sherborne said.
“Really?”
“Oh yes. She said she always loved sports more than anything else. I had the impression that her father did not exactly approve of her interests,” Sherborne said wryly as he sipped his brandy again.
“I can well imagine that.” Marcus could remember very well how imposing her father had been when he had gone to see him, and how dismissive of his daughter, just because she was not a fine piano player. He thought of all the accomplishments that Lady Violette did have, the things that he had prized and loved about his friend. The activity and the athleticism, hiking with him, sailing, going to the horse races, and more. They had fitted so well together. “She talked about wanting to go on a Grand Tour, and she had said it was not possible. Was that true?”
“Of course,” Sherborne said with a nod. “Her brother was the one off travelling the continent. How many ladies do you know are permitted to do the same thing?”
“None,” Marcus said with a little anger. “Though goodness knows why not.” He could perfectly picture Lady Violette exploring Europe, just as Marcus himself had wanted to, but that was forbidden now, after James’ passing. “I have to see her, Sherborne.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And what will you say to her when you see her?” Sherborne asked. “Quite frankly, if you are just going to see her to break her heart again, then that doesn’t need to happen, does it? If you’re going to see her and give her hope though….”
The words hovered in the air, making Marcus think long and hard about it. Was it possible that after all this mess, he could marry someone he truly cared for? Maybe he could marry his best friend rather than a lady he had nothing in common with?
***
By the time they were back at the house, and Marcus sent Sherborne to bed, neither of them were able to stand straight. The brandies had gone to their heads and legs, meaning the world was a little dizzy, and Marcus could barely settle his feet. He pushed through the door to his study, deciding it was best not to attempt to climb the stairs at all, when he found the room was already lit in candlelight.
“God’s wounds, what happened to you?” Walter’s question made Marcus look up to see Walter was not the only one in the room. Walter was sat in an armchair sipping his own brandy whilst Peter and Laurie were at a nearby card table, looking up from the cards in their hands at his entrance.
“Have you been injured or something?” Peter asked.
“It’s self-inflicted, Peter,” Walter said knowingly. “It comes from having too much of this.” Walter lifted the glass in his hand a little higher in the air for their brother to see.
