Sons of Liberty (51 page)

And what would she say, if she did?

Rose’s family had forced her to confess, fearing what would happen if her husband found out that he’d been cuckolded. They’d clearly helped Bruce to conceal his powers too. A Master Magician, appearing in a magic-less line ... people would ask questions. Master Thomas might have returned, just to take his son. He’d been desperate for a heir long before he’d decided to train Lady Gwen. The family would not have survived the scandal.

There was no proof, of course, save for the envelope in his hand. Rose’s confession, her plea for mercy. He could have killed her for sleeping with another man, or kept her a prisoner in his house, and it would have been perfectly legal. And yet, he'd been relieved. He didn't really care enough about the bloodline to want a son of his own. Master Thomas had probably never even known he had a son. He’d certainly made no attempt to investigate Bruce for potential powers ...

And Bruce himself didn't know the truth.

If it got out, now, there would be a scandal. Bruce’s position in society would be destroyed, ending his marriage before it had almost begun. Rochester himself would be the laughing stock of the ton, just like poor William Hamilton. And who knew how Lady Gwen would react? Her family would certainly not be pleased.

Rochester rose, holding the letter in one hand. In truth, he wasn't sure why he’d kept it. He’d liked his wife, he’d been affectionate towards his wife, but he had never really loved her. Perhaps if he had, he would have been angrier at proof of her adultery. Instead, they’d shared parenthood together until she died, leaving him with a lone son who wasn't really his. But he was proud of the man Bruce had become.

He stood in front of the fire for a long moment, gazing into the flames. There was no way to escape the sense that he wasn't long for the world, that his aging body wouldn’t last much longer, that one day the flames would burn him as surely as they burned wood and coal. But his death wouldn't be for a while yet ....

Goodbye, he thought, taking one last look at his wife’s handwriting. He didn't care to reread the letter. He’d read it too many times over the last few days. And farewell.

Quite calmly, he dropped the letter into the fire and watched it burn.

The End

v.1 by silverchocobo