Just how difficult, no one knew. They had no idea it was now Serena who awoke at night in the sway of reliving that final morning with Matt. Over and over she heard herself say the hurtful words. She didn’t understand why he’d acted as he had. Any more than she understood how she could have so forgotten herself to give vent to her feelings.
The arrival of her father for a visit to the duke’s sickbed was a welcome relief, particularly since he brought Buckle. But not even to her beloved nursemaid did she reveal how quickly her life had plummeted from magical to miserable.
Only Longford’s declaration that he was leaving for Brussels in two days brought Serena out of her daze of confused misery.
“Why?” she asked boldly, meeting his mocking gaze without a flinch across the dining table. “What is going on?”
“Yes, Richard. This decision is rather surprising considering the duke’s health,” the duchess remarked from the head of the table.
Cecily leaned forward to gaze at her brother in rapt attention. She hadn’t missed the surprisingly sharp note in the duchess’s usually melodic voice.
Even Papa peered at the marquess over the top of his glasses.
Only Buckle, who had been asked to join them since they dined en famille, sat quietly with hands folded, her gaze on Serena.
“Well, Richard?” the duchess prompted. “Politics has never interested you before.”
“It does now!” he stated in a deep voice with nothing of boredom in it. “There must be a final confrontation between the allies and Napoleon. It could change the face of history.”
“And you believe you might be able to assist?” his mother asked gently.
“Good God, mother, I’ve found a way my humdrum existence might hold some meaning! If you must know, I’m carrying dispatches from the War Office. Perhaps I’ve misunderstood your subtleties over the years. I believed you would approve.”
“I simply desired to know your true intention.” The duchess looked steadily into her son’s identical eyes. “Now that you have made them clear, I see that you must go.”
“I’m going with you! I can stay with Aunt Lavinia,” Serena heard herself declaring, suddenly seeing a path open to make desperately needed amends with Matt.
“I’m going, too,” Cecily chimed in, leaping to her feet. “If there is to be a confrontation, I must see Kendall!”
Longford stared at them in horror. “You’re both mad! I have no intentions of playing nursemaid to the pair of you all the way to Brussels!”
“Excuse me, my lord, if I may,” Buckle broke in, shocking them all to silence. “If Serena and Lady Cecily wish to accompany you to the Continent, I would be happy to go as their companion so you wouldn’t be bothered by any of their needs.”
“What an excellent idea,” the duchess sighed, casting Buckle a look of quiet respect. “If it were not for His Grace’s health, I would go myself. But with you attending the girls, their accompanying him will cause Longford no difficulty whatsoever.”
“Hmpt.”
All eyes turned to Serena’s father as he cleared his throat. “Mrs. Buckle, are you quite sure you are up to such a long journey?”
Buckle gave him her singularly sweet smile. “Quite sure. As long as you’re able to manage without me in my absence.”
Reverend Fitzwater peered over the rim of his glasses first at Buckle, then the duchess, lingered a moment on Longford and Cecily, and came to rest on Serena. From what she saw in that steady gaze, she knew she hadn’t kept her heartsickness over Matt as much a secret as she’d hoped.
“Considering everything”—he spoke with a firm calmness, much as he did from the pulpit—“I see no reason why Lady Cecily and Serena, with Buckle as companion, should not visit Brussels. I know my sister will welcome them. That is, of course, if the marquess is agreeable.”
There was nothing of calmness in Longford’s abrupt push to his feet or the cold look he inflicted on his mother, Cecily, and Serena in turn.
“The dispatches will be ready the day after tomorrow. I leave then, with or without you!” he declared grimly, before turning on his heels and striding from the room.
Never had there been a flurry of activity to match their efforts to assemble and pack for what might be a lengthy stay in Brussels. Serena surreptitiously tucked a few extra medical supplies in her bandbox, just in case.
Brussels was gayer than London at the height of the Season, so ball gowns, riding clothes, walking costumes, all must be carefully packed in tissue for their journey.
Serena worked like one possessed, for she was determined to hasten their leave-taking. Each moment away from Matt reinforced her hated words “Leave me! I don’t care if I ever lay eyes on you again!”