The storm did not let up for several days, dragging Ewan deeper into his private darkness. Four days passed when the sun finally poked through the horizon. He now felt some semblance of normalcy—or at least the despair he accepted as commonplace.

Suicide was out of the question, although he had been unable to shake the idea from his mind when the bleak moments were unbearable. Patricia’s passing left a hole in his soul— not one he would wish upon his nemesis, let alone the parents who loved him dearly. With the sun’s arrival came a newfound reason to live for.

I cannot go on this way. I am ambling about without meaning, and Father spoke the truth—I do cast a black umbra over Nightingale.

He sent for Vernon, ordered a shave, and asked Anna to draw a bath. Just as both servants scampered away, the Duke appeared on the threshold.

“Good morning, Ewan. You look well.”

“Father, flattery was never your strong suit. What is it?”

“Nothing,” Phineas’ expression hinted there was a great deal on the old man’s mind. Ewan took a deep “now, what” breath.

“Father?”

“I have a matter to discuss with you when you are dressed. Will you join your mother and I for breakfast?”

His impulse was to refuse, but the look he was given implied the Duke fully expected rejection.

For one year he has been waiting for me to heal with patience. I must also make an effort to be successful in overcoming my grief.

Overcoming this notion was inane, nevertheless, Ewan cleared his throat and nodded slowly.

“Yes, Father, but I have only just sent the servants to prepare for a bath and shave.”

The relief in Phineas’ eyes was nearly palpable, but he made no overt exclamation. Instead he said, “We will wait. When you have finished, we will be where I indicated.”

“Yes, Father.”

While Phineas retreated into the hallway, Ewan waited for the servants’ return.

There are business matters to attend to. The duchy continues to thrive despite my ineptitude to carry on. Patricia would not know me as this shell of a man. In her memory and our son, I must bear the anguish and do them proud.

He could not say why, after a year nearly to the day of her passing, he had received such an epiphany. Maybe he’d suffered enough, or maybe Patricia was telling him it was time to move on and make the best of it.

The rain must have washed his mourning down, enabling the Marquess to function—but barely. Whatever the reason, Ewan did not question this tentative rebirth. The servants worked tirelessly to make Ewan begin to feel more like the dashing lord they came to admire over the years. He looked in the mirror and he saw his dark eyes seemed less encumbered and his frame less turned in. He desperately needed a few pounds of flesh upon his cheeks, but he did not cringe so wholly as he had days earlier.

I remain here, despite my private hopes that I, too, would be taken away. God has seen me through this and I will prevail, just as Father has said. I am a Clark. It is in my duty to carry forth.

For the first time in twelve long months, Ewan had a dash of hope for the future.

“Ewan!” Prudence, the Duchess of Everly, gasped when he entered the dining hall. “My Son, you look wonderful!”

He managed a small smile for her and walked to his allotted chair, at his father’s right. “Hello, Mother,” he said softly. “As do you.”

He noted the sidelong look the Duchess cast toward his father, but whether it was due to her surprise or not, he could not be certain.

“Indeed, Ewan,” the Duke nodded his approval. “You are in fine fettle today.”

“I am reluctant to say it aloud,” Ewan murmured, sliding into his chair. “But I daresay I am feeling more like myself.”

“Why are you hesitant to say?” Prudence tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “That is news for the angels to sing from the—”

She abruptly stopped speaking and flushed a deep scarlet.

“Oh, forgive me, darling,” she muttered, her eyes watering.

“Nonsense, Mother.” He offered her another small beam. “In fact, I would like for you to forgive me. I have been incorrigible as of late. You have not deserved the harsh treatment I have bestowed upon you.” His words spilled out in a rush. He knew it was necessary, but it still burned to admit it. Again, his parents shared a look, and with this one, he felt an undercurrent of concern.

“Ewan, you are our son,” Prudence told him gently. “One in great pain, no less. We never did fault you for your grief. It was to be expected. There is nothing for which to be forgiven.”

“I concur.” The Duke patted his son’s hand resting on the table. “You must strike that idea from your mind.”

Ewan exhaled slowly.

“I am truly blessed to call you my parents.” He cupped his father’s hand on top of his. “I cannot imagine what I would have done if I had been alone in this world—”

“You will never be alone in this world.” The Duke cleared his throat and looked at his wife again. This time, Prudence avoided his gaze.

“Which brings us to another matter, Ewan.”

“Does it?”

“Phineas, perhaps now is not the time…” Prudence muttered quietly but the Duke only looked at her helplessly.

“If not now, then when? It is done.”

As he studied their faces, Ewan could feel his chest tightening.

“What is it? Is there a problem in the duchy? Has something happened?”

“No, no,” the Duke assured him. “All is well.”

Ewan returned his hands to his lap. “Well? What is it?”

“Darling, before we tell you, you must understand that we have been quite concerned for your health and happiness for some time,” Prudence jumped in as Phineas opened his mouth to speak.

“Yes?”

“We did all we could to bring you out of the pit of despair,” Phineas agreed. “You were too melancholic to hear reason. We were very concerned.”

“Yes, I understand,” Ewan insisted. “But what is it you have done?”

Silence. Ewan’s cautious sense of peace dwindling.

“Father? Mother?”

“We have arranged for you to be married.”

Certainly, he had misheard the Duke’s words—surely his father wouldn’t be so cruel. Time stood still… The Marquess turned to peer across the table and saw both parents waiting for a response.

“I assume you are jesting with me, testing the waters to see if I have reclaimed my good humor,” he said slowly, unable to comprehend what was happening.

“Ewan, I assure you, if we had foreseen an end of your suffering, we would simply have allowed your grief to run its course.”

“Instead you meddled in my personal affairs? You opted to replace my dead wife with one who breathes?” he growled—totally discombobulated. “What of my son? Have you found someone to replace him too?”

“Ewan, it is nothing as you make it seem!” Prudence shot the Duke a concerned look. “A wife’s job is to care for her husband in his darkest hours. You need someone at your side, someone on whom you can lay your head and unburden your sorrow.”

How was he to make sense of the blow just delivered?

“You would engage a lady to be my in-bed doctor then?” he managed to gasp through his fury. “Perhaps it is not me who has taken leave of his senses—but you!”

He rose from the table abruptly and shook his head vehemently.

“I will not do it,” he snapped, spinning to leave. “Undo the engagement.”

“We cannot do that, Ewan, and you know as much.”

“I did not consent to this!” Ewan howled, pivoting back to look at them in disbelief. “How could you make such a decision without me?”

“We knew precisely how you would react.” Phineas sighed. “Like this.”

“And how was I meant to react, Father? Meekly? Jovially? Please, do tell me what I was meant to say or do, so I might do it. I would not wish for you to think me behaving inappropriately and find some other means to correct me.”

“That is unfair, Ewan!” Phineas snapped. “We arranged this for your own good.”

“And the good of the duchy...you worry about the Clark bloodline.”

“As any man does,” Phineas retorted.

“Ewan, you must not think that this was done in haste,” Prudence insisted, but the Marquess could not bear to look at her. She was every bit as complicit in the matter as her husband.

“I will not see this through!” Ewan insisted.

“If you do not, you will be besmirching the honor of this house,” Phineas told him flatly. “As you well know.”

“It is you who besmirched our honor!”

“If you choose to see it as such, so be it, but all the same, we will be regarded very poorly among our peers. I will not be about forever, Ewan, and one day, you will become the honorable duke. I presume you will do what is right not only for the duchy but for yourself.”

Phineas rose and nodded to his wife. Prudence paused, looking from her husband to her son imploringly.

“Do consider this, Ewan,” his mother murmured; he scoffed with disgust.

“There is nothing to consider,” Ewan snapped. He stormed from the dining hall before the Duke or Duchess could call out.