An arrow of guilt shot through Hunter’s heart as he recalled the death of the earl three years ago, although he had been in India at the time and since he’d had a singular focus, he’d allowed nothing to penetrate the haze of his vengeance. “I suppose I missed the funeral, didn’t I?”
“You did.” Darwood nodded. “But I fear it was quite a sorrowful affair. It was probably for the best you were chasing Lord Gregory across Asia rather than sobbing into your handkerchief with the rest of us.”
Hunter downed his sherry and set the empty glass aside. He leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry I failed our friendship, Darwood. In truth, I feel as if I wasted my time on such an empty pursuit. As long as the Marquess of Highgrove has the king’s ear, I fear Lord Gregory will never stay long in gaol no matter what I do to ensure his guilt.”
The viscount tilted his head to the side. “Is that what brought you out so early this morning?”
Hunter’s drink was magically refilled, so he lifted it to his lips, but he didn’t drink, merely stared into the teasing liquid that promised oblivion, but what he knew would only be fleeting. He set it aside. “Ironically enough, I hadn’t even thought of Lord Gregory until you brought him up.”
“Ah. Then if it isn’t revenge you’re after at this time of day, it must be an issue with a particular female.” The viscount’s lips lifted at the corners.
Hunter laughed. “That’s rather astute of you, actually.”
“Then this recent conundrum must have something to do with your lovely mistress.”
Hunter had confided many things to Avion over the years, but he found that speaking of Persephone would be a break in her trust. However, since he was in need of some advice, he admitted, “The lady does have me tied up in knots at the moment.”
“I see. Does this mean you’re thinking of breaking things off?”
Hunter frowned. Last night had been a revelation in more ways than one. The idea of sending Persephone away to become some other man’s mistress actually made him physically ill. Not only that, but he couldn’t ensure her safety if she wasn’t under the same roof. But what about when the time came that he was expected to choose a bride?
Perhaps there was a way he could do both at the same time…
He got to his feet. “I have to go.”
Darwood lifted a brow, but said nothing further as Hunter headed for the door.
It was time he paid his father a long overdue visit.
Chapter Six
Hunter tapped a finger on the chair arm in the king’s private sitting area where he’d been forced to wait for the past half hour. No doubt his father was making him wait on purpose.
When the double doors to his chamber finally opened and he walked inside, he waved off the guard that would have followed. “The Crown has nothing to fear from the Duke of Falcourt.” He lifted a brow. “You are still a loyal subject, are you not?” he addressed Hunter.
“Indeed, Your Majesty.” Hunter bowed low. He’d never called this man his father, finding that it served him better if he offered him the reverence as a monarch instead.
As the doors shut behind the king, he walked over to a settee near the fireplace and, once he was seated, gestured for Hunter to do the same. He was dressed in tan breeches, white stockings and black-heeled shoes, topped by a gold, cutaway coat with silver embroidery, a powdered wig firmly in place. Even though this was a casual call rather than a formal event, Hunter knew that the king had suffered from various fits of maladies in the past and demanded to look his best at all times so that the mental state of his mind was never taken into question during moments of sanity.
“I’m curious as to why you would call upon Us so early in the day, Falcourt.”
He always referenced himself as one with England, so Hunter addressed him as such now. “I was hoping to gain Your favor for a particular request.”
The king sniffed. “I hope this doesn’t have to do with the unfortunate business about Lord Gregory. I’m told he has retired to the country with Highgrove for the time being and is behaving as a model gentleman.” He shook his head. “Really, Falcourt, can you not leave the man to his own devices? It’s been more than five years since your sister’s attack.”
Six, actually, Hunter yearned to correct, but he held his tongue on that matter. “On the contrary, I’m here on another matter entirely.” He took a deep breath. “I wish to have the Crown’s blessing to marry Miss Persephone Welton.”
The king instantly laughed. “You wish to wed your mistress? A known harlot’s daughter?”
Hunter clenched his jaw, and yet he stood his ground. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
The merriment subsided as the monarch abruptly stood. “No.”
He started to walk away, but Hunter wouldn’t be dissuaded. Only one other time had he dared to use their personal connection as influence. Even then, he’d been refused for Lord Gregory still walked free. “Consider it a gift for your son.”
The king spun back around, his expression not merely haughty, but closely condemning. “The gift We have bestowed upon you is making you a highly regarded peer of the realm and that was out of my fondness for your mother. But I shall deny your request. Men of our station wed for duty and the good of England. If you are looking for a bride, I will send ’round a list of preferable candidates. Good day, Falcourt.”
Hunter sighed
