Aaron gave a relieved sigh. Finally, the earl reorganized the sense in his decision! Why had the man not simply said so?
“But in the future, when you return home at night, Miss Dunston will not be there. Your bed and your heart will be empty. And with each building you purchase, each parcel of farmland that is tilled, your coffers will grow. But so will your loneliness.”
Aaron’s heart began to race. Not from anger but rather from fright. Being alone had always been his worst fear.
“You really should consider what you’re giving up, Kirkwood, for most of us experience only one love in our lives. No matter how successful you are, no matter how full your coffers become, none of it compares to sharing your life with someone you love. You speak of your destiny? Well, I’ve just explained it to you, and it looks bleak, indeed.” He stood and buttoned his coat. “I have a meeting at one, so I’ll take my leave. Consider my counsel, Kirkwood. I’ll see myself out. Good day to you.” And with that, he left the room.
For a moment, Aaron considered calling after Lord Walcott, to tell him he was wrong. Yet he could not, for the evidence presented proved him right.
Yet had the man in Hensworth, Mr. Abraham Artemus, not said very much the same thing?
Rising from his chair, he made his way to the library to stand in front of the Sword of Destiny. The weapon that had changed the destiny of England. That brought an end to the War of the Roses. Aaron had wanted nothing more than to be equal to—if not greater than—his ancestor who had carried this sword. To carve his own destiny.
With careful hands, he opened the glass case and took the heavy broadsword in hand. He took a step back and held it up in front of him. The blade had tiny nicks but light still bounced off the polished steel.
“I had hoped to wield you in triumph,” he muttered aloud.
Images of his arrival in Chatsworth flashed in his mind. Odd as it was, the sword wrapped in a heavy blanket and resting beside him had him believing it could lead him to his destiny.
He had been as lost then as he was now. All he had to hold on to was a dream. To become the man he was meant to be. For so long, he believed that was a shrewd businessman who would build a name for himself. But as Lord Walcott had said, even if he realized that dream, he would still return to an empty home.
He had found his calling in life, and if he did not hurry, it would disappear.
Sliding the sword into its leather scabbard, he settled the weapon on his shoulder and marched out into the corridor.
Scriven was speaking to one of the maids when Aaron approached. “What can I do for you, sir?” the butler asked.
“Have my horse saddled at once.”
With a quick nod, Scriven waved away the maid, who bobbed a quick curtsy and hurried off to do whatever the butler bade of her.
Aaron headed outside, where a warm sun greeted him. As he waited for his horse, he began to pace, the pebbles of the drive crunching under his boots.
“Is everything all right, sir?” the butler asked, a worried frown on his face.
Aaron laughed. “It will be. I’ve come to realize something, Scriven.”
“Oh?” the butler asked. His eyes darted to the sheathed broadsword.
“Indeed. I’ve been a very selfish man. Arrogant. But starting now, I plan to change my ways.”
“Excellent, sir,” Scriven said, reddening, likely embarrassed that his master was confiding in him.
Masking enthusiasm was not an easy task, but Aaron would not apologize. When the stable hand brought his horse, Aaron buckled the sword to his waist and mounted.
“Are you going to war, sir?” Scriven asked.
Aaron smiled. “No. I’m going to change my destiny.”
ChapterThirty-Six
It was with a heavy heart that Louisa hugged Amy good-bye. After promising to write, Louisa picked up her portmanteau, which was far heavier since her arrival, and made her way downstairs. Today was her last day at Mrs. Rutley’s School for Young Women, and although she was ready to take this important next step into the world, she could not help but feel a sense of melancholy.
“Four years, Mrs. Rutley,” Louisa said as she approached the school mistress and Ruth, who stood together talking in the foyer. “It feels as if it were only yesterday that I arrived, yet here I am leaving for good.”
Louisa recalled her first day here. Worry for what the future would hold had riddled her. What would it be like living somewhere other than home? Would she make any friends amongst the students? And what sort of headmistress would Mrs. Rutley be?
It had not taken her long to realize that her parents had made the best decision for her; she had made many friends and gained an entirely new family. A family who valued her even more than those who had raised her.