Chapter Eight.

In a quiet, secluded village far from the grandeur of the English countryside, Lady Elisabeth found herself deep in thought. Despite the passing years, memories of her past life, her family, her son still haunted her, as if the wounds never fully healed. She had tried to bury the pain, to forget, but thoughts of her son, little Garet, drifted into her mind unbidden. He must be a fine young man by now, likely around twenty-eight, she mused with a faint smile. She prayed silently that he was well and happy, wherever he was.

When she was banished from the countryside years ago, a group of kind-hearted souls had brought her to this hidden village. This place had become a refuge for those cast out or lost, a haven for people without titles or privileges. Together, they built a life, farming, trading, and occasionally sneaking into the countryside to gather supplies.

Lady Elisabeth was pulled from her reverie by a knock at her door. Opening it, she found Sir Bryan standing before her, a soft smile on his face.

"Good morning, my lady," he greeted, bowing slightly. "I hope the night was kind to you."

"And to you, Sir Bryan," she replied, her voice gentle. "What brings you here so early?"

"I have a letter for you," he said, handing her a sealed parchment. "The night travelers returned with it, and I recognized your name. I thought it best to bring it over directly."

Her heart skipped a beat as she accepted the letter, recognizing her friend Lady Victoria's familiar script. She hadn't heard from Victoria in quite some time, and she eagerly broke the seal, her eyes scanning the page.

---

"My dearest Elisabeth,

I trust this letter finds you well. It has been some time since I last wrote, but I bring good news.

Your son, Garet, has returned to the countryside. Word is that he's come to find a wife and to prepare himself for the duties of Duke.

In just a few days, the grand Cotswold Harvest Festival ball will be held. If you can find a way to attend, you might finally glimpse the man your son has become.

With all my heart, I hope you can see him once more.

Yours ever,

Lady Victoria"

---

Elisabeth's hand trembled as she held the letter. Her Garet, back in the countryside. After all these years, she might have the chance to see him. Her heart ached with a bittersweet longing, she feared he would hate her for abandoning him, but she had to see him, even if only from a distance.

Her thoughts shifted to her plan. The villagers often slipped into the countryside for festivals, where they could gather food and supplies. This might be her chance. However, she felt uneasy approaching Sir Bryan for help, he had confessed his love to her in the past, and while she cherished his friendship, she had sworn never to open her heart again after the pain caused by her former life.

Yet, this was her son. She could not let this opportunity pass.

Making up her mind, Elisabeth packed a few belongings and sought out Sir Bryan. He stood with a small group of villagers, discussing preparations for the upcoming festival.

"Sir Bryan," she began softly, drawing his attention. "Might I join you on your journey to the countryside? I have…someone I wish to see."

Bryan's expression softened, and he nodded without question. "Of course, my lady. You're welcome to join us. We leave at dawn tomorrow."

As she turned to leave, a tear slipped down her cheek. Garet, her son was so close, and yet so far. She feared what he might think of her but clung to the hope that seeing him, if only for a moment, might ease the pain she had carried all these years.

---

Meanwhile, back at the Duke's estate, Garet had risen early, determined to begin his investigations into his mother's past. Wandering the estate before breakfast, he passed by Edward's room and heard muffled voices. The door was slightly ajar, and through the gap, he saw Edward entangled with one of the maids in an all-too-familiar scene of impropriety.

Oh may lord, your so thick down there?

Don't stop faster faster, he could here the maid. Then followed by moans coming from both of them.

Disgusted, Garet averted his gaze and moved on, hardly surprised. He suspected their father turned a blind eye to Edward's behavior, likely why he was so eager to push the role of Duke onto him instead.

With a shake of his head, Garet continued to the servant quarters, where he eventually found the estate's butler, a tall, thin man with graying hair and an air of solemnity.

"Good morning, my lord," the butler greeted with a respectful bow.

Garet nodded. "How do you fare?"

"Very well, my lord. How might I be of service?"

"I don't recall you when I was little," Garet remarked. "You must be new here."

"Yes, my lord," the butler replied. "I was brought on after the previous butler, Frederick, passed from cholera."

The news hit Garet harder than he'd expected. "Uncle Frederick…gone?" he echoed, sorrow clouding his eyes. "Do you know where he was laid to rest?" and what about his wife.

The butler inclined his head. "I can look into it, my lord. Frederick was well-respected, and his wife was a kind woman she left the estate after birthing a child. I gather you were close?"

"They were like family to me," Garet replied, his voice soft. "If you could find where the rest or any information about his wife, I'd like to pay my respects."

"Of course, my lord. I shall have the information for you in two days' time, likely the day before the festival."

"Thank you," Garet said, his gaze distant. Frederick and his wife had filled the void left by his mother's absence, and now Uncle Frederick, too, is gone, I need to find his wife.

With a final bow, the butler departed, leaving Garet lost in thought. The upcoming festival felt less like a celebration and more like a ticking clock, reminding him of all he had yet to discover.

Memories of the old days filled Garet's mind. He remembered how Uncle Frederick would always play with him and comfort him whenever he felt sad. Frederick had even risked sneaking food into Garet's room on the days his father had locked him away; though he was once caught and punished, that never stopped him from being Garet's only true friend.

He also recalled Frederick's wife, who was expecting a child before he left. She would sing him lullabies and read him stories until he drifted to sleep, once promising that her baby would be his friend when it arrived. Little Garet, only eight years old and without a companion, had been thrilled at the thought of finally having someone his age.

But then the incident happened, and he had to leave.

Now he was back, only to find Uncle Frederick gone. His wife's whereabouts remained unknown, but Garet prayed he might still find her, and perhaps even uncover the truth about his mother.