60. Epilogue II (The Villains Approaching)

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Sometime during the year of our Lord 1757

News of the tragic demise of two strangers reached the London Gazette the following day of its occurrence. As Lord Arden Price perused the article, he expressed his disapproval and tossed the newspaper onto his desk, inadvertently dislodging a small stack of cards. Among them was an invitation to the union of Lady Lorraine Rosewell and Lord Roché, serving as a reminder for him to attend to his postage and get it in order. With a quick bow, he returned the papers to the table, briefly holding Lorraine's invitation in his hand.

The one who eluded you due to your blindness and deafness, resonated the words of John Price in his son's ears.

The nuptials transpired months ago, bestowing upon Lorraine the esteemed title of Lady Roché, and Arden wished fervently that she found contentment in her chosen path. He felt compelled to extend his congratulatory regards for her new journey, yet, regrettably, matters of greater urgency consistently overshadowed this noble task.

He sighed wearily and placed the invitation on the polished mahogany table among the others. Indeed, the time had come for him to embrace the sanctity of matrimony as well. Yet, the haunting spectre of the unsolved murders in London refused to grant him repose. Furthermore, Arden found distasteful the way the newspaper editorial sought to trivialise the situation – asserting that, under no circumstance, was it the work of a clever and steadfast murderer, and that London could rest in undisturbed slumber.

"Simpletons," he murmured into the stillness of his father's study, now his own domain.

Besides the enigmatic murders casting a shadow upon his days, other matters added to his sombre disposition – the whereabouts of his wayward sister Aileen... and his ceaseless contemplation of Lynette, his erstwhile love. Despite their agreement to maintain communication post their parting, Lynette had not honoured her pledge. She went to the extent of being deposited on one street, only to hire another carriage, meticulously eradicating the last trace he could rely upon to locate her.

Now, immersed in blissful ignorance of the challenges fate had in store for him, he pondered his next moves in life. Despite adeptly managing the dukedom with poise and grace, it failed to satiate him, as it was a duty bestowed upon him as the heir apparent. He harboured no inclination to revisit the Red Cat Inn, for neither the playing cards nor the spoils of games enthralled him as they once did. Anonymously aiding the wronged, under the appellation of Sir Badger, had its merits, but the notion of remaining a mere enigma in the shadows began to vex him – the necessity to ascend into society's spotlight gripped him, not merely as a shrewd player of games of chance.

Arden aspired to attain loftier pursuits. Several notions danced in his mind, though contemplation was oft interrupted by recollections of her countenance... until memories of her grace, lips, and form stirred the fervour within his garments, prompting him to seek relief behind the closed door of his chamber. Initially, he demurred the quest for Lynette, deciding to commence the search upon the cessation of the present month; eventually, he resolved to persist in seeking her until year's end – should she elude discovery by then, he would reconcile himself with the irrevocable finale, resigned to never behold her again.

A passion impelled him, indeed, but also a profound trepidation – the dread that some misfortune may have befallen his former flame that still flickered within his soul. This despite Lynette's prowess as a capable woman, adept at preserving her well-being even amid the most trying circumstances.

However.

It was simpler to express than undertake, was it not? Arden found himself entangled between the echoes of the past and the present, resembling a wolf baying at the moon, yet no answer came forth.

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