Waking up to an unwanted summons was not what the Duke of Newbery would have preferred after managing only four hours of sleep. The Duke had no mind to change his dress and decided that if they were affronted by him in his bed clothes it was their problem. The town Magistrate, Mr. Fielding, and the constable, Mr. Stanton, were in his foyer.

Tightening his robe, Noah addressed the two from the landing above the foyer, “May I help you, gentlemen?”

“Good morning Your Grace,” Mr. Fielding greeted. “After months of searching, we have found the man who killed St. Maur. He is from West London, whose family had dealings with the St. Maurs. He confessed to saying your name to throw off every suspicion from himself, as he knows about the enmity between the two of you. The Chief Justice in London is requesting your presence, Your Grace, as he wants to personally apologize for this unfortunate incident.”

“Well, that’s magnanimous of him,” Noah said sourly, “But please inform the Chief Justice that he cannot summon me like a servant. I’ll be at Westminster Hall when it pleases me. Good day, gentlemen.”

Spinning on his heel, Noah went back to his shaded room and sank heavily into his bed. He knew that he wasn’t going to sleep, he just wanted to block out the world for a while.

It took two days for Noah to get to London, by choice, and by design. By that time word about his innocence would have permeated the city like water through a sieve.

Instead of being shown to the Court of the King’s Bench, Noah was shown to an antechamber of the auspicious chamber. The Chief Justice was wearing his imperious plain-black silk robe but his wig was discarded.

“Your Grace,” Chief Justice Lord Ellenborough greeted, “Thank you for coming.”

“I’m honored to be here, Lord Ellenborough.” Noah’s tone was strictly business.

“I’m sorry for this unfortunate business with St. Maur, but the lawmen have done their job and apprehended the real culprit.” Lord Ellenborough added, “You have been cleared of any and all suspicion, Your Grace. On behalf of my office and the lawmen who investigated this matter, I over my sincere apologies for the shadow it has caused on your name and your honor.”

“Thank you, Lord Ellenborough.” Noah replied calmly. “I appreciate your efforts.”

A few more words and then parting farewells had Noah climbing back into his carriage and ordering the coachman to go to his place at Mayfair.

The carriage came to a stop but Noah didn’t leave at once–instead, he sat back and tilted his head back on the seat. Looking at the house through his peripherals, he felt everything just fall down on him like a load of bricks.

“Your Grace?” The coachman asked after a prolonged silence. “We’ve arrived.”

Levering himself up, Noah nodded, “Yes, yes. Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Leaving the carriage, Noah approached his house and sighed. It was going to be another long night.

A long night stretched into three long days where Noah had sequestered himself, but on the evening of the fourth, he looked at the door of White’s with a bit of distaste.

As a public figure who was just been cleared of a crime that he hadn’t committed, it was a strategic move to make himself present at social gatherings. Ensconcing himself at his home would only further the irrational rumors and mar his image even more.

Honestly though, at this point in his life, Noah didn’t give a fig about his social image and couldn’t care less if the masses thought he was the devil incarnate. They could leave him alone for the rest of his life as, since the death of his beloved, he had counted himself lifeless.

The only purpose he had in life was to care for the people under his governance and make sure they prospered. If they did, he did. Gritting his teeth, Noah pushed the door and stepping in, greeted the doorman and handed over his coat.

“Have a good evening, Your Grace,” The man said while hanging up the coat.

Noah could only muster a nod before he entered the room. The ambiance was the same–dark, with muted lighting and the tails of cigar smoke lingering in the air.

The moment he did venture more than three feet inside the first room the activities came to a halt. More than a dozen, or possibly fifteen pairs of eyes were on the Duke, and morbidly, Noah thought that he should have painted his forehead with the words “NOT GUILTY” in bright red ink before arriving at the establishment.

Ignoring them, he went to the bar and ordered a stiff drink before secluding himself in a seat near the middle of the room. It was a blatant dare to anyone who thought he was higher than a judge to come an accuse him–luckily, no one did.

“Noah,” Lord Alford said, as he hurried out from the nearby room, his silvered beard parting with his smile, “I’m glad to see you, my good man. I was in London when the real criminal of St. Maur’s crime was sent to prison.”

He was just a henchman, my friend, the real criminal is still alive.

Noah felt a bit humored–the man’s voice had been pitched loud enough that it had carried over half the room and the men around him. Some who were glaring at him suddenly turned away. Lord Alford had done him a service by being his “town crier” instead of forcing him to outwardly state his innocence.

“May I get you a drink, my friend, and join you?” The older man offered graciously.

“Thank you for the offer, Alford,” Noah replied soberly, “But I think I need some time to myself for the present.”

Lord Alford knew Noah was still grieving over Emmeline’s death and a small commiserating smile crossed his face as he laid a hand on the young Duke’s shoulder. “I mourn with you, my friend.”

Noah tried to smile but his heart was heavy, “Time will not heal this wound, Alford, but it might make it numb. I’ll still love her to my dying day.”

Noah had not made any move to hush his voice or to keep his grief from it, as there was nothing for him to be ashamed about.

“As any lady worthy of such devotion should be honored,” Lord Alford replied with a last touch, and then walked away.

Despite the almost-empty room–as most of the patrons had decided to suddenly be interested in a game of Quinze in the adjoining parlor, neither Newberry nor Alford had noticed the pair of tawny eyes that were pinned on Noah’s person from not too far away.

Noah watched as the older man walked away, and then braced one elbow on the table and ran a callused hand over his face. He was just about to start wondering where his drink was when a hand settled it before him.

“May I join you?”

Noah’s head snapped up, to see Leverton standing beside him and after a quick moment, the Duke nodded, “Please.”

The room suddenly felt quiet as the gentlemen assembled knew that these two men, interacting in the same room, was a recipe for disaster. In the past, the two had stayed away from each other as the feud between both families was still raging. So, what caused this miraculous turnabout?

The Duke of Newberry felt the stares of eyes on them, but like before, didn’t try to address them. In fact, he was so disenchanted that he didn’t care if the drink Leverton had given him was poisoned. Noah felt like he was at the end of his rope.

He knew the feeling would probably pass by the morrow but Noah didn’t even know if his broken heart would carry him to see the next day.

“Cheers,” Noah said, and drank the whole glass in one gulp then stopped himself for laughing at the horrified gasps from the men around him. “So, what brings you by, Leverton?”

The other Duke had waved a man over and quickly a decanter of scotch was placed on the table. Leverton poured himself a drink, “Probably the same reason as you, but…” here he paused, “but I heard what Alford said, and I have read the report and…I have realized that enough is enough. We both miss her dearly and I’d give half my fortune to bring her back, but I cannot. Hostilities between us would not do that either.”

Noah sat back in his chair and watched the mélange of emotions cross Leverton’s face, while his long fingers traced the rim of the glass. He then lifted his eyes and the glass, “To Emmeline.”

Lifting his, though it was empty, Noah replied, “To Emmeline.”

It felt as though Noah was living out of his body, as for the first time, he and Leverton had a peaceful talk over drinks of Scotch whisky and when evening fell, Noah stood and stuck out his hand. The other Duke shook it without a qualm.

“Please meet me for breakfast, at my townhouse. We need to…talk–really talk.” Leverton said as they reached the foyer, “Good night, Newberry.”

“Same to you, Leverton,” Noah said steadily while retrieving his coat.

Leverton was a decent human being tonight, Noah wryly noted, as he traveled through the night back to his temporary abode, A little too late though.

Arriving at the Newberry Manor didn’t give Noah any sense of peace. A week in London, then three days of meeting with Leverton, hashing out the issues of the family hatred between them, had drawn him out. Not every issue was solved but they had started the process.

Noah had woken up that morning with a ghastly headache from overindulging last night on copious amount of Scotch whisky. He doused himself with cold water, then had the coachman stop at an apothecary for an evil-tasting ‘cure’ but Noah was not looking forward towards speaking to anyone–least of all his grandmother.

The carriage came to a stop, and after alighting, Noah entered the foyer and turned toward the staircase, with every intention of sleeping the lingering effect of his overindulgence away.,

“Noah,” his mother called from the base of the stairs when he was halfway to the top. “Would you please join me at the sitting room, please? I need to speak with you.”

Not even turning from his position on the stairs, Noah called tiredly over his shoulder. “I have a beastly headache, Mother, can this wait?”

“…Perhaps I can cure it for you.”

A musical voice that Noah hadn’t heard in months sang through the air–Emmeline’s!

That voice was Emmeline’s! Emmeline, who was dead! Noah nearly fell off the stairs but grabbed at the railing for support. Spinning in his place, his eyes lit upon the one human being his soul called out for day and night.

He had just come to terms with her death but now–now!–she was there, standing just behind his mother, in a gorgeous pale-yellow dress, with a brilliant smile on her face.

What is going on?