Page 92 of From Unwanted to Duchess
Gideon shrugged. “I have not suddenly discovered my romantic tendencies. They were always there, but they have been amplified because I met a beautiful young woman. Cassandra. I intend to propose to her.”
“Well, well,” Aunt Eugenia drawled. “Even your hardened bachelor of a friend has found love.” She turned to James. “Now, Gideon is quite correct in his assessment of love. There were many times when Frederick and I did not see eye to eye. There were periods where we fought like cats and dogs for days on end. Once, I even packed up the carriage and went to visit a good friend of mine in Scotland forsixweeks. Frederick wrote me letters several times a week and sent them by express messenger, which cost a fortune back then.”
She leaned against the windowsill, a serene smile on her lips.
“I gave in eventually, and we found our way back to each other.”
“What was the quarrel about?” James asked, for it had to have been something severe if she had left her husband for several weeks.
She shrugged. “I cannot recall. It was a very long time ago. But that is the thing—I cannot remember the cause of our quarrel, but I can remember my reaction and the feeling of loss I experienced by being away from him for so long, even though I was very angry at whatever his infraction was. But my point is, we went back to one another. Because that is what love is—finding a way together.”
James nodded. Perhaps he had been foolish. He had let fear govern his life, his days. He had let his father’s words diminish him, make him doubt himself.
But it was true—his father had been an awful person. He had never loved him, and the truth was, James wasn’t quite certain if his father had ever truly loved Marcus either.
His father had focused on Marcus because he was the heir, but true affection? James had never seen it.
Was he really throwing away everything good in his life because of his father’s ill treatment and his own self-inflicted wounds?
“I can see you are thinking about what we have said, which is good.” Aunt Eugenia gave an approving nod. “However, right now is not the time for self-reflection. Frances’s father is expected within the hour, and if you want to be of use to her, you had better get up, comb your hair, splash your face with somewater so you do not look like the walking dead, and come with me.”
James took a deep breath. “Very well. I shall do so.”
