Chapter Nineteen.

The countryside was serene yet bustling as Lord Garet's carriage rolled along the cobbled roads, flanked by sprawling fields kissed by the morning sun. He had managed to leave his father's estate without attracting much attention, though unknown to him, Lady Delinda had taken an interest in his movements. From her chamber window, she watched keenly, determined to uncover his every step.

As the carriage traversed the countryside, Garet observed the familiar sights of his youth. He recalled fondly the times his mother would take him on rides, pointing out the landmarks and teaching him the rhythms of rural life. The market square, now bustling with vendors hawking their wares and buyers haggling loudly, stirred a pang of nostalgia in him. Farmers and craftsmen worked diligently, their efforts lending vitality to the picturesque village.

After some time, the carriage came to a halt before Lady Victoria's humble abode. The butler descended first, ensuring the premises were occupied. He rapped firmly on the wooden door.

"Is anyone at home?" he called out, his voice carrying the polished tones of a seasoned servant.

Inside, Lady Victoria, startled by the knock, approached the door with cautious curiosity. Rarely did she entertain visitors. Opening it, she was greeted by the sight of a man in formal livery, unmistakably a butler from the Duke's household. Her heart quickened as she realized the gravity of such a visit.

"Greetings, Madam Victoria. How do you fare this fine day?" the butler inquired with a respectful bow.

"I am well, thank you," she replied, her voice measured, though curiosity shone in her eyes. "What brings a servant of the Duke to my door?"

"I accompany the heir to the Duke, my lady," the butler announced, gesturing toward the carriage.

"The heir?" Her voice quivered. "Do you mean to say Lord Garet?"

"Indeed, my lady."

At that, the butler hastened to the carriage, opened the door, and offered a low bow as Garet emerged. Lady Victoria stood frozen, her breath catching at the sight of the young man she had once known as a boy. Time had sculpted him into a refined figure, yet there remained a familiarity in his countenance that tugged at her heart.

"Is it truly you, Garet?" she whispered, scarcely believing her eyes.

"It is I, Madam Victoria," he replied with a slight bow.

Without hesitation, she stepped forward and enveloped him in a warm embrace, her maternal instincts overcoming formal decorum. When she finally released him, she dropped into a curtsy, her voice trembling with both joy and propriety.

"Welcome, my lord, to my humble home. Please, do come in."

Garet offered a polite smile, following her into the modest but cozy dwelling. The scent of lavender lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of baked bread. The room was sparsely furnished, with a simple wooden dining table, a few well-worn chairs, and a stone hearth that exuded warmth. A faded portrait hung on the wall, depicting Lady Victoria, her late husband, and a baby, likely her daughter.

"Do make yourself comfortable," she said, gesturing toward a chair. "May I offer you some refreshment, my lord?"

"A glass of water will suffice, Madam Victoria," Garet replied, though she was already bustling toward the kitchen.

"Nonsense! A little snack shall accompany it," she called over her shoulder.

While she prepared the refreshments, Garet took the opportunity to survey the home. It was small yet welcoming, each item carefully placed to maximize the limited space. The simplicity of the setting stood in stark contrast to the grandeur of his father's estate but radiated a charm that was uniquely its own.

Lady Victoria soon returned, balancing a tray with a plate of scones and a glass of water, which she placed on a low stool before him.

"Thank you, Madam Victoria," Garet said, inclining his head.

"It is my pleasure, my lord," she replied, seating herself opposite him.

After a moment of casual conversation and reminiscing about old times, Garet's demeanor grew serious. His eyes, sharp yet shadowed by an unspoken pain, met hers.

"Madam Victoria, there is a matter I must discuss. When I was a boy and my mother left, you often told me that I was too young to understand the affairs of adults. Now, as a grown man, I seek the truth. What truly happened? Why did my mother leave so suddenly?"

Lady Victoria stiffened, her hands clasping tightly in her lap. She had anticipated this question but still found herself unprepared for its weight. The years had not diminished her loyalty to Garet's mother, nor had they dulled the sting of those fateful days. She hesitated, her gaze falling to her lap as she searched for the right words.

"My lord," she began, her voice faltering. "I knew this day would come. You deserve the truth, and though it pains me to speak of such matters, I shall tell you all that I know. I only pray that someday, you and your mother may find each other again."

Garet leaned forward, his heart pounding in anticipation. The answers he had sought for so long were finally within reach.