Free The Earl's Honorable Intentions by Deborah Hale Page B

selfish effort to avoid his parental responsibilities?
    Much as he resented her doubts, Gavin could not entirely suppress his own. And they sickened him.
    While he had been fretting about having nothing to do, he could have been getting to know his young son at last. Perhaps even comforting the boy after the death of his mother. Not that he had any idea where to begin. Miss Fletcher would be better suited to that task, yet he had robbed the poor little fellow of his governess just when he needed her most.
    Gavin wished he could blame his thoughtlessness on the tremendous upheaval in his life. He had been wounded in a great battle, lost his wife and closest friend and became a father to two more children all in a matter of days. It was no excuse for thinking so little about his children.
    “Major Molesworth,” Miss Fletcher murmured. “Was he the comrade to whom you made your vow?”
    Gavin’s first impulse was to wonder how she knew. Then he remembered her saying he had called out for his friend.
    “I take it you were close comrades.” Miss Fletcher seemed to forget he had refused to answer her earlier question about his friend.
    Somehow he could not refuse her this time. “The closest. We met at school when we were only little shavers. He was deadly homesick at first.”
    “But you were not?” Miss Fletcher’s question pursued Gavin as he sank into his memories.
    He shook his head. “I got on much better at school than at home. I was not terribly studious, but I did well at games and got on well enough with the masters and the other boys. I looked out for Molesworth until he settled in, fought some bigger lads who tried to bully him. Over time he became more like my brother than...When I purchased my commission in the cavalry, he followed my lead and we rose through the ranks together.”
    “It must have been very hard for you to lose him.” The sympathy in Miss Fletcher’s voice surprised Gavin. “It would grieve me to the heart to lose any of my dear friends from school, even though we have not set eyes on each other for years.”
    The woman had friends and a past life of which he knew nothing. Somehow that came as a revelation to Gavin.
    “I am not certain I have taken it all in yet. Part of me wants to believe it was a terrible mistake. I know he is gone. I watched him die. Every time I think of him, I am reminded that it should never have happened. We came through that long, blood-drenched slog up the Peninsula without a scratch, and we beat Boney once.” Without realizing it, his voice rose as he spoke until his final words rolled like thunder. Hot anger was easier for him to accept than the chill void of loss. “That should have been an end to it!”
    Gavin expected Miss Fletcher to shrink from his outburst as Clarissa would have. Instead, when he shot her a guilty glance, he found himself caught in a gaze of understanding and compassion.
    Surely when he explained it all, she would understand why this meant so much to him and why even his paternal responsibilities would have to wait until he had seen his mission through. “If only Bonaparte had been dealt with as he deserved, a year ago, there would never have been this bloody postscript. Molesworth would have lived to a ripe old age, surrounded by his children and grandchildren.”
    “Did he have a family?” Miss Fletcher sounded almost as if she mourned his fallen friend.
    “No.” The word gusted out of him like a sigh. “There was one young lady who caught his fancy during the peace celebrations. But he did not want to propose to her until he was certain the war was over for good. Now he will never get that opportunity.”
    “That is a tragic misfortune,” the governess mused. “But even if Bonaparte is made to pay for his actions, it will not bring back your friend.”
    “I know that,” Gavin insisted, though a small, irrational part of him wanted to believe otherwise. “But it will prevent others like him from losing their lives in