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Although Rafe couldn’t really argue. His mother had been distraught that he had been forced to leave, and she had promised to write to him if he let her know where he was going to be. The postal service took six weeks to get from him to England, but Rafe did look forward to these letters. It made him feel like he had some sort of connection with his homeland.
And knowing that his mother had always been on his side helped. His father and brother had believed he wouldn’t hurt Richard, but Lady Blackmore had been the staunch believer leading everyone. Rafe was sad he would probably never get to see her again, but he did appreciate her support.
Charlie opened the letter, frowning at the words.
“It’s in a different handwriting.”
“Not from Mother, then?”
“Apparently not. It’s less pretty.” Charlie turned the letter over to look at the signature. “Oh, it says Sebastien. Is that your brother?”
“Yes.” Rafe frowned. “He hadn’t written to me since Christmas.”
Charlie started to read.
“‘Rafe, it is with great regret that I have to tell you of tragic news. Mother…’” He hesitated, glancing up at Rafe. “‘Mother passed away three weeks ago.’”
Rafe stopped brushing. The words slammed into him and jumbled up in his head. He tried to find his voice.
“Mother? She…she’s dead? How?”
Charlie frowned as he read, scanning the lines.
“It seems that she got a fever, and it just wouldn’t leave. The doctor says it was scarlet fever, and when she died, she was crying, clutching onto a small portrait of you.” He swallowed. “Her last words were how she wished you were at her side.”
His mother was dead. And it felt like Charlie had just punched him in the stomach. The world began to tilt, and Rafe felt himself falling.
“Easy there!” Charlie grabbed him and led him out of the stall. “We don’t want you passing out under a horse.”
Rafe didn’t reply. He didn’t really know what to say, not after that. Charlie urged him to sit down, which he did rather heavily. He felt like he was going to be sick. Charlie hovered by him, watching him nervously.
“I…I don’t know what to say, Rafe. This…this is just….”
“Just finish reading, Charlie,” Rafe croaked.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I need to hear it.”
Charlie didn’t look convinced. He crouched down beside Rafe and carried on reading.
“‘I know this is not what you wanted to hear, but I thought it was best that you heard it from me. Father is asking for you to return. He is not well himself, and he doesn’t want to regret not seeing you again.’ I thought you said you couldn’t go home due to the scandal.”
“I can’t. If I set foot back on English soil, I’m going to be arrested, I’m sure of it.” Rafe slumped forward, keeping himself up with his elbows on his knees. “Does he say how I’m going to get back without the repercussions?”
“Wait a moment. Here we go! He says, ‘Don’t worry about the Viscount and his family. Father has decided to unite the families. I am to marry Richard’s sister Victoria, and by doing that, we can settle what we have between us. I think he’s hoping to convince them that you didn’t kill their son.
Whatever he said, the banns have been announced, and I’m to marry Victoria. Father would like you to be there at the wedding so we can settle everything. I hope you can come home and that we can be a family again. The wedding is on the thirtieth of July. I love you, Brother. Please come home. Sebastien.’”
Rafe let the words sink in. Sebastien was to marry little Victoria Hayward? How had Sebastien agreed to that? From what Rafe remembered, she was a gangly, awkward girl with hair that didn’t seem to be tamed at all. She had to be a young woman now, and probably hadn’t grown out of her awkward childhood. What was their father thinking?
It might make things better for them to have the hatchet buried, so to speak, but how was this good for everyone involved? Rafe couldn’t see Sebastien being happy with this. He certainly wasn’t, and all he was getting was a second chance to come home.
It felt like a trap.
“So, what are you going to do?” Charlie asked.
“I…I don’t know.” Rafe buried his head in his hands. “I’m still trying to get over the fact that my mother is dead. It’s been six years since I last saw her, and I….”
