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Chapter Fourteen
William stared at the glossy walnut stationery box on the carriage seat next to him, tracing a fingertip over the swirl of a wood grain pattern. Would the contents mean anything to Beatrice? Or were they mere evidence of his continued self-centeredness, pushing her away even further?
“Parliamentary matters weighing on you?” asked Augustus. His brother, a captain in the Thirteenth Hussars of Her Majesty’s Army, was on leave from his regiment.
“Parliament is the last subject on my mind.” Now that Augustus was awake, William shifted his solemn attention to him. “Your time in the cavalry has prepared you to sleep sitting up, I see. No matter the ruts and bumps and constant jostling, you slept like a babe in his mother’s arms.”
With a scoff, Augustus looked out of the carriage window, leaving William a view only of his leonine mane and profile. In years past, he kept his hair in a gentlemanly queue, but it flowed loose and untamed now. “You think our mother ever held us?”
William’s mood, already morose as they traveled to Candleton Hall, darkened considerably. “How long has it been since you’ve visited the Hall?”
“Years. Since I left for the Royal Military College, and you know it.” His tawny eyes, almost the same shade of his dark gold hair, met William’s. “But something told me to accompany you this year. One last time.” The stark words matched his tone.
With his own heart so heavy, William hadn’t paid enough mind to his brother’s mood since his unexpected arrival in London two days earlier. Guilt and worry stewed within him. “One last time? That sounds ominous.”
While Augustus was an officer and a gentleman, a decade in the army had hewn not only his body into hardness, but his very disposition. He leaned forward over thighs even more thickly muscled than William’s, encased in tight buff riding breeches. “The Eastern Question,” he said meaningfully, referring to the fate of the Ottoman Empire. “My squadron is likely being sent east. I have a feeling I won’t return.”
Frowning, William pondered this news at the same time as he rebelled against his brother’s tragic prophecy. “The way you say that, it sounds almost as if you don’twishto return! What’s wrong, Augustus?”
“No, I don’t seek death. But I shan’t run from it. What’s wrong, you ask?” He shrugged. “The world.”
William tapped his lip. He’d heard rumors that part of the illustrious Thirteenth might ship out, but nothing more than speculation. After twenty years in Bangalore, the regiment had sailed home in 1840 and been stationed in Canterbury, at which point Augustus had joined. Over the past decade, Augustus had been tasked with conducting exercises and building up the unit after its extensive losses from cholera overseas. Their only deployments had been in England, aimed at maintaining civil order. The revolutions and famine sweeping the continent in recent years had instilled persistent fears about England becoming a tinderbox, and most of Her Majesty’s forces had been needed at home.
Sighing, William nodded. “Of the great powers, only Britain’s and Russia’s imperial regimes have survived these times. Between us lie France, Hungary, Austria, Prussia…” All unstable and vying. “According to the diplomatic reports, Tsar Nicholas is obsessed with the Ottoman Empire and wishes to hasten its demise. Turkey is in his sights.”
After a curt dip of his head, Augustus sat up. “I know you and Lord Palmerston have not always seen eye to eye on war. But in this case…”
“We cannot allow the Russian Empire to expand. Europe is at risk. Our interests in India and beyond.” Though he uttered the words with quiet confidence, he also knew great regret. “My life’s work in Parliament has been to improve lifehere. I cannot deny the great threat Russia poses, however. We cannot turn a blind eye.” Looking upon Augustus, William’s expression reflected his pain. “It weighs heavily to know that my own brother could be called upon to defend our interests. I’m glad, though, that we’ll have this time together.”
Augustus leaned heavily on his forearms once more and stared at the floor of the carriage. “I would have thought I could leave Candleton Hall without a single backward glance. You’re the Marquess, and I know you take your duty to the people there seriously. But for me, that place…”
“There are some good memories, too. Aren’t there?”
Augustus sat back into the plush carriage cushions, his expression diamond hard. “You always were more forgiving than I. That’s how it should be. You’re the statesman. I’m the saber.” Eyes narrowing as he looked at William anew, he would have looked intimidating if not for his clear concern. “I ought to be askingyouwhat’s wrong. You were a dark cloud in London, but I expected you to lighten with every passing mile. Your wife and children await.” His eyebrows rose when William looked away.
Shifting uncomfortably, William glanced at the wooden case next to him.
“What happened?” Augustus pressed quietly. “I’m supposed to be the cantankerous bachelor and you, the contented family man. No one’s ill, are they?”
“No, thank God. It’s not that. It’s…damn it!” He ran his fingers through his hair. His brother was right. He should have been filled with anticipation as they traveled closer to the Hall and the reunion with Beatrice and the children approached. Hewasliving for the moment—even as he dreaded it.
Augustus stiffened and one hand drew into a fist. “Why is something telling me that Mother has had a hand in this?”
“She did her part, to be sure. But I’m the one to blame.Idestroyed my own life,” William said intently.
“Destroyed your life?” Disbelief slackened Augustus’s mouth for a moment. “What are you going on about?”
So I’ve not only disappointed my wife, but my younger brother.“You think a marquess is above having a hand in his own destruction?”
Studying him as if for the first time, Augustus eyed him from head to toe. “What hashappenedto you, William? You were well and settled. Do you remember what I said when I met Lady Beatrice for the first time?”
Swallowing, William nodded. “That she was neither a viper like Mother, nor a helpless pawn like Mother would have wished.”
“You haveeverything. You’ve strengthened the Dalfour name and fortunes. Built a name in Parliament. A doting wife. Four scamps who love you.”
“Hada doting wife,” he choked out. “I depleted her affections, Augustus. I fear my presence at Candleton Hall will be unwelcome—an intrusion at best. Reopening a painful wound, at worst.”
“All seemed well when I visited at Eastertime. What has happened since?”
