Ann Lethbridge - Regency Society

‘I see.’ So whatever he had to say, he meant to speak first to his wife on the matter. Emily weighed the two pieces of paper in her hand, trying to guess the contents without opening them, and nodded absently to Hendricks, directing him to await her replies.

Did it really matter which she opened first? For if she had read the situation correctly, they would be two sides of the coin. She must trust, now that she had met the man, that the pair of them were not full of lies.

She cracked the seal on the one that bore no name, and read.

My love.

It is with difficulty that I pen these words to you. More than the usual difficulty, of course.

So he had taken the time to joke with her? The news must be bad, indeed.

But it seems some things are better written, for they prevent me from avoiding what could be an unpleasant truth.

In this, she was very much in sympathy.

I have taken your suggestion, and written to Emily, in hopes of resolving the difficulties in our marriage. After last night, I proved to both of us that I cannot leave the spectre of her between us any longer. And I know that you will understand when I say I have no desire to hurt you, any more than I did my poor wife.

Obviously. Her eyes rushed down the uneven lines on the page.

And know also that I would not have had the nerve to face this, had it not been for the time spent in your arms. It has brought about a change in me. A change for the better.

She smiled, thinking how nice it was that he would say so.

This evening, should my wife desire it, I will return home to face what future there is for me, and you will see me no more. I beg you, my darling, understand that I would not leave you were it my choice. For this time we have spent together has been some of the happiest of my life. The past days with you have been closer to perfection than any man deserves. And thus, I fear, they cannot last.

Your words of love were not unwelcome. And though I wish I could say otherwise, I hold honour too dear to reciprocate them. My first obligation must be to the woman I married, and I can no longer fulfil it from a distance, any more than your husband can for you.

Emily had his duty. Which was all well and good. But love would be better.

If my wife rejects me, which I fear is quite possible, then I will write to you immediately and you will know that my heart has no claim on it. It is yours to command, should you still wish it. Half of it is already yours, and always will be.

But whether we be together or parted, Emily has the other half. And the better portion, for it was the one I gave first.

She stopped reading for a moment, and looked at the other letter, wondering if it was half as sweet. Then she returned to the one in her hand.

If I had known you three years ago, I like to think that things might have been different and that I would be at your side today. But if you have the love for me that you claim to, I pray you, wish me well in this most difficult decision and let me go. I must try to make my Emily happy, just as I wish you all the happiness in the world.

For ever yours, Adrian.

Without thinking, she clutched the paper to her lips and kissed it. Then she tore the seal on the next letter, and read what he had to say to his wife.

It was cautious. Polite. And shorter. And when she got to the line about his being humbled, she almost laughed aloud. Even in humbleness, he was more proud than any two other men.

But his willingness to put her pleasure before his own? She thought of how he had treated her when he took her to bed. He had proven that he could do that so often that it made her blush to think about it.

She kissed the second letter as well. Fondly at first. And then touching her tongue quickly to the paper and thinking of how it would be, tonight, when she came to him in his own bed. A marriage bed. Just as it ought to have been between them all along.

Was this not the best of both worlds? She was his lover, and had half his heart for the asking. And she was his wife as well, and commanded his honour and loyalty, along with the rest of his love. He would be her faithful servant, if she wished to take him back. And though he came to her with head bowed, she would make sure that he lost nothing by it. They would both gain by his homecoming.

Once they got past the surprise he would get on learning her identity.

Emily smiled to herself and dismissed it. Surely that would be as nothing. It would set his mind to rest to realise that the woman he loved and the woman he had married were one and the same.

From his place in front of her, Hendricks cleared his throat, reminding her that she was not alone. ‘Well?’

She smiled up at him. ‘He has chosen me. Me. Emily.’

The man at her side looked confused, as though he did not see a distinction. ‘Was there ever any doubt?’

‘Surprisingly, there was. And now I must go to him, and explain the meaning of his choice, as gently as possible.’

‘I suppose you will expect me to come along in this, to support you when it goes wrong.’ Hendricks was glaring at her. His tone was sharp, as though he had any right to question her activities.

‘I do not expect you to make the explanation for me, if that is what you fear,’ she said back, equally annoyed. ‘It is my husband who leaves you to write his messages for him, not I.’

‘While you have never made me write them, you have had no qualms in making me carry them,’ he reminded her. ‘You have forced me to lie to a man who is not just my employer, but an old friend.’

‘As he forced you to lie to me,’ she said.

‘But he did it in an effort to protect you,’ Hendricks answered. ‘Can you say the same?’

‘What makes you think you can question me on my marriage? After all this time, neither of you has cared to inform me of the truth. If I choose to keep a secret for a matter of days, you have no right to scold me.’

‘I do not do it to scold,’ he said, more softly, ‘but because I know Folbroke and his pride. He will think you did what you did to amuse yourself with his ignorance.’

‘And now, after all this time, I do not know if I care,’ she admitted. ‘If what I have done annoys him? Then it will pay him back for the hurt I suffered, all the time he has been away. When he did not know me, and I told him the truth of our marriage, he did not recognise that, any more than he did me. He thought my husband’s treatment of me was unfair. And he had admitted the same of his treatment to his wife.’

‘Then you must realise that he has suffered as well,’ Hendricks said.

She spread her arms wide, to encompass the problem. ‘And tonight, he will apologise for it. And I will apologize for tricking him. And then the matter will be settled.’

Hendricks laughed. ‘You really think it will be that easy. And have you thought what you will do if he does not forgive you? He might well cast you off for this. And if he does, he will be in far worse shape than you found him in.’

‘It will not come to that,’ she insisted, but suddenly felt a doubt.

‘If it does, he will not last long. You will have taken his hope from him. It might be more merciful of you to leave him with that than to bring him a truth that comes too late.’

What good would it do her to leave him his fantasy, and destroy any hope she had that they would ever be together? And what would become of her, if she could not have him?

Then she remembered Adrian’s suspicions about his secretary’s interest in the unobtainable Emily. And she said the words that she was sure both dreaded, but that needed to be spoken. For if there was any truth in what her husband took as a fact, than she must settle it now, once and for all. ‘Mr Hendricks, if there is something else you have to say on your hopes for my future, then you had best say it, and clear the air between us. But before you do, know that I decided on the matter from the first moment I laid eyes on Adrian Longesley, many years ago and long before I met you. Nothing said by another is likely to change me on the subject at this late date.’