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I frowned, not sure. “I put so much effort into gathering everything to crush Fitzwilliam with a single blow, especially after his letter. Knowing that I have been chasing what I believed to be a shadow, only to learn now that he was sipping tea with the Wildinghams on their estate, is maddening.”
“Letter?”
“He wrote to me, telling me he was returning, but it felt like a threat. Thus, I increased the checks and guards around the estate. That is also why I wished you not to go into town. I believed him brutish and determined to strike like a beast in the night. This, however, is much different, as he has come pretending to be a gentleman. The disgrace of it all.”
“What shall you do now?” she asked softly.
“All my methods to capture him have been disasters, botched one way or another. I am at a total loss. I believe I shall take my wife’s advice,” I replied, going over to her, kissing her cheek. “I will go to the magistrate, though I do not know what good it will do.”
She smiled, glancing up at me. “Let us believe justice will come of it.”
Fitzwilliam had returned to Everely. I was sure there was to be no good in this. None at all.
Knock. Knock.
“Enter,” I said. The door opened to reveal her lady’s maid.
“Your Grace, you have a letter.”
“From whom?” Aphrodite asked.
“Mrs. Marcella Topwells,” she answered before quickly excusing herself.
I scoffed, shaking my head. Everely was not big enough for both them and us.
“What does she say?” I asked, seeking to control my anger.
Aphrodite handed me the letter so I might read it for myself.
To Her Grace, the Duchess of Everely,
I beg your forgiveness for our introduction this morning. I was quite shocked to see you in town. I had hoped to meet you, but thought it would be over a cup of tea, not at the side of the road. Whatever I said arose from pure nerves. I write this letter in a pleading request of another audience with you, should you find me acceptable. I shall wait eagerly for your reply. I pray this letter finds you in as good health as I am at present.
Yours sincerely,
Mrs. Marcella Topwells
“I shall invite her tomorrow,” Aphrodite said.
“I do not wish them here.”
“Then she shall come alone.”
“Aphrodite—”
“I am quite aware you wish me to stay out of this. But, Evander, if you saw me struggling, would you allow me to handle it alone? We are to depend on each other, are we not? Let me invite the girl—the young woman—to see what I can learn from her so we may discern, at least, whether she knows the truth of her husband and how she became married to Fitzwilliam. You said you have lost time and time again using brute force to keep them away. Let us try another strategy. Let me help you.”
Depending on another was not a strength of mine. For so long, it had been only me fighting this battle. All my life, it was me against them all, and it had made me weary.
“Evander,” she said, rising and holding the side of my face to bring it closer to hers. “It is not just you any longer. It is us. Your glory is my glory. Your harm is my harm. If you are in a fight, I am in a fight. There is no way to spare me from it.”
I knew that. Which is why her father had wished for me to handle this before she married me. But I was so glad she had fought for me anyway.
“I do not deserve you,” I said, placing my hands upon her waist. “Truly, you are a miracle to me.”
“So, it is a yes to tea with Mrs. Topwells?”
I sighed. “Fine, invite her.”
