The early morning was cold, but it was nothing compared to the chill inside him. He’d spent yesterday making sure that he decimated any possible future with Martha. Everything that he’d loved about his life—everything—was now gone. Hugo swallowed down his horror; he’d done what he had to do, and this was the last time he’d allow himself to wallow in his pain and self-loathing.
It would be dawn in another hour, so Hugo turned and trudged toward Solange’s and the life he’d always known he’d end up with.
Chapter 34
“Martha?”
She startled at the sound of her name and looked up into Albert’s concerned green eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said, forcing a smile—not a very good one if Albert’s expression was anything to go by. “I missed what you said.”
“I said that Fergus just bit Butterbank.”
“Oh, dear. Where is Fergus now?”
“Cailean took him out to the carriage house.”
“Is the bite bad? Should I go fetch the medicine chest and—”
“No, no,” he soothed. “It’s just a nip, but he said Fergus wasn’t allowed back into the house.”
“Well, I can’t blame him,” Martha said, abstractedly. “I’ll tell Cailean to keep him outside until we leave.”
Albert dropped to his haunches in front of her chair and took her hands in his. “What happened, Martha? Hugo seemed so very grim when he came to me yesterday. I’ve never seen him like that before—not even when we were in the hold of that horrible ship.”
Martha was grateful that Hugo hadn’t told Albert the truth. She didn’t care if Albert knew what Hugo did for a living, but she didn’t want to face his pitying looks at being abandoned.
She swallowed and thrust the unbearable thoughts away. “You don’t have to accompany me, Albert. I know this must be hard on you. You’ve only just found a new job and—”
“You took care of me when I needed help—remember? And I owe Hugo everything, Martha, so if he wants any favor in the world then he has it. Besides, the lawyer says I’ll not be needed here for weeks—perhaps months—and Mr. Haskins says I’m the best clerk he’s ever had and that he’ll take me back whenever I return.”
Martha nodded. Not because she agreed, but because she simply didn’t have the energy to argue.
“But won’t you tell me what went wrong?” Albert persisted. “You both seemed so hap—”
The door opened. “Excuse me,” Butterbank said, “but there is a Jonathan Buckingham here to see you, ma’am.”
Martha stared blankly, her mind stumbling like a drunken sailor. Just what in the world was this?
“That must be Hugo’s brother,” Albert said when she failed to respond to the waiting butler. “I know now isn’t the best of times, but don’t you want to meet him, Martha?”
Martha shook herself from her daze. “Yes, Albert. I’d like to meet Hugo’s favorite brother. Show him in, Butterbank.”
The man who walked in the door a moment later had the same dark coloring as Hugo, but other than that, the men couldn’t have been more different. Jonathan Buckingham—or whatever his name was—was one of the most gorgeous men she had ever seen. As much as she loved Hugo—and she did, despite the horrid things he’d said to her—her husband was not classically handsome. This man was a veritable god.
“What a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he said, bowing over her hand in a courtly fashion. “Hugo has told me so much about you in his letters.”
Martha turned to Butterbank, who was hovering in the open doorway. “Would you have tea sent up, please?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
Once the butler was gone, the smile dropped from her mouth and Martha locked eyes with the handsome stranger. “Now, perhaps you might tell me who you really are, Jonathan.”
A short time later …
“—and so he asked me to be here on Monday at noon,” Daniel finished, sliding a finger between his immaculately tied neckcloth and muscular neck and gently tugging, as if he’d tied it too tight.
Albert turned to look at Martha, his face a mask of utter perplexity. “I don’t understand, Martha. Why would Hugo do this?”
Martha felt a glimmer of hope for the first time since Hugo had ejected her from his bedchamber the night before. “To make me happy,” she said. “When did you last talk to Hugo about coming over here today?” she asked Daniel.
“Er, that would be Saturday night.” For some reason, he blushed.
Martha worried her lower lip as she considered that information. Hugo had still been trying to conceal his double life—his lies—barely two days before he experienced his dramatic about-face.
She stared pointedly at Daniel and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Ma’am?”
“Tell me what happened?”
Daniel’s eyes flickered from Martha to Albert and back. “I don’t understand what you mean?”
“You say you are a friend of my husband?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you meet?”
Daniel opened his mouth, and then shut it.
Martha smiled tightly. “It’s all right, Daniel. I know where Hugo works—and it’s not the Exchange.”
“It’s not?” Albert asked when Daniel said nothing. “Martha, what is going on?”
Martha ignored his question. “Hugo is your employer, isn’t he?”
Daniel sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”
“What happened yesterday?”
“I, er—” He gave her an anguished look. “Lord, ma’am. I don’t know what to say.”
“Hugo told me the truth about his family last night. Why didn’t he tell you not to come here today?” Martha asked.
“I’m guessing he probably had one of the servants leave a message for me in my room.” The skin over his high cheekbones darkened. “Er, I slipped out last night and spent the evening at a, er, friend’s house and I didn’t go back home before coming here.”
Ah, that made sense. “Tell me what happened yesterday, Daniel.”
“Ma’am, I can’t—”
“I shan’t tell Hugo and jeopardize your job, but I want the truth from you. If you tell me everything you know, I won’t tell Hugo that you came here today.”
Daniel pondered his choices for a moment before saying, “Bev Davies called Hugo in yesterday. I don’t know what it was about—I don’t,” he insisted at the
