"My goodness, you look a mess," The Duchess said walking in. She was dressed in a black gown that swept the floor as she moved.

Robert prayed to God that she wasn't here to give him a lecture on how he had messed up. He already knew that; adding to the mountain of his guilt wasn't an advisable idea.

She paused and sniffed. Then she frowned at him. He almost forgot mothers had good noses and were always good at sniffing out things. In his defence, he didn't know she was out there with Grace. If not he would've sprayed perfume all around the room.

"Smoking cigars," she said sitting next to him in bed. "His death truly hurt you, didn't it?"

"He was my best friend."

"Yes, I know." She handed him a bar of chocolate. It was his favourite snack and so far, he hadn't been able to get some for himself. Thanking his mother, he took it and unwrapped the bar. "Go on, have a bite."

He chewed on the bar of chocolate, the savoury cocoa taste blossoming in his mouth and making him moan lowly. It had been a while since he tasted something this good. He barely ate the food Mr Griffith served him. So it was safe to say he hadn't been eating well.

"You look pale," his mother said, running her finger below his eyes. "Have you been getting enough sleep?"

With those bad dreams, he highly doubted he did. Two hours of sleep was the maximum amount he had been getting. And the nights he couldn't fall asleep, it was because he was worrying about Ella.

"Don't worry yourself about me mother, I'm fine."

"You finished your chocolate bar with two bites. You're not fine." She handed him two more bars which he reluctantly took. Unlike his father, his mother cared for him. Though because of Grace, she couldn't give him all her attention. She had to prepare her daughter to be a lady and have a flawless debut in society.

He opened the new bar and munched on it. "I caused the death of my friend and now Ella is being taken by Gerrard. I'm lost, I don't know what to do."

Lady Stark brought her son closer and rested his head on her shoulder. Slowly, she caressed his golden hair and hummed a tune.

"I understand how hard it must be for you now. I felt this same way when my mother and father died on their ship back from America." He knew of the story. But his mother never told him how she felt about it. She only told him and Grace about how their maternal grandparents died. "When they died, I was devastated. Mainly because they were my two favourite people. But amid that darkness I was lost in, a glint of light led me back to finding myself."

Robert hadn't seen his glint of light. He was still wallowing in this non-abating darkness which was burgeoning with each second that flew by. He had to find that light soon or he might lose Ella. And he didn't want that. Even though she may not love him anymore because of what he caused her, the only way he could clear his conscience was to save her.

"I saw father at the funeral today."

"I forced him to come," The Duchess said. "I reminded him of how important Howard was to you."

So his father didn't attend of his own will. At least he came when his mother pointed out how important Howard was to Robert. Perhaps there was an atom of care for Robert in his father's cold heart.

He highly doubted that.

****

Robert lit his brown cigar and drew in the tobacco. After a few seconds, he blew it out, the plumes of grey clouding his vision. He was sitting next to Howard's grave and had a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Beyond the hill was the countryside Howard asked for. The sunset was encompassed by the sky which was a shade of orange, yellow and pink. A stream ran past the lush green valleys, the verdant meadow present and alluring to the eyes. The hills beyond rolled like casually laid eiderdown quilts and the beauty of everything was overwhelming for Robert.

"You've always had eyes for good things, Howard," Robert said, smiling at the view. "Fuck, this is quite the view."

Howard would've replied with something corny or funny. But Howard wasn't there, but he was there.

"I've missed you, Howard. You were my most trusted friend." Robert sighed. "Ella has been missing for weeks." He drank from his glass cup. The wind, swirling and ambient lifted Robert's golden hair into a dance. Robert inhaled the soft but addicting scent of his cigar's tobacco and blew it back out to the air.

If Howard was here, he would ask him when he began to smoke.

Robert laughed. "I hope you wouldn't mind me smoking. It's been helping me cover the pain I've been feeling the past few days. Who knew cigars had a purpose?"

"I hope you'll be willing to forgive me, Howard." Robert chuckled, tears rolling down his eyes. "I was a bad friend, Howard. Now look at where it got you; buried six feet under the ground."

He rubbed his thumb over the rim of his glass cup, sniffing in mucus. "Mother came to visit me yesterday and I was surprised she didn't scold me."

"Well, that's a surprising turn of events." Howard's voice rang through his head.

Robert smiled. "Aye, I know. She spoke to me about some sort of bloody light that would help me find my way. But I'm not seeing anything, Howard. All I see is darkness. Darkness which grows in me every day. I am afraid of what I'm going to become if I don't save myself."

"Maybe you could start by forgiving yourself."

"But how?"

"I believe that's something you would have to figure out yourself."

"Not even a hint?"

"I'll give you a hint."

Robert narrowed his eyes. "What's that?"

"It's something you have to sort out yourself."

Robert visualised the cheeky smile Howard would have now. How was he going I forgive himself? It would take a miracle for him to be able to see something good about himself again. He killed his friend and made his lover a captive. What sort of sick bastard was he?

"Another thing, My Lord?"

"What is it?" Robert asked, putting the cigar in between his lips again.

"Stop imagining my voice in your head, it's unethical. Give a dead man some privacy."

Robert threw his head back in laughter, holding his guts. If someone were to see him, they would think he was a mad man. Maybe he had become one.

"I will give you some privacy, Howard," Robert gulped down the glass of whiskey. Before he could forgive himself, he should try and fix the mess he made. Ella could be saved. But he didn't know how to make up for Howard's death to his wife.

"I'll give you a tip this time. Give her a chance to experience the life she wanted with me. Even though I won't be there to live through it with her, she should at least live it for me."

"You're saying I should-"

"Yes, My Lord. I'm amazed you didn't think of it earlier on."

Robert found it unusual that he was having a conversation with a dead person. He didn't understand how this was possible since he at first thought it was his mind speaking to him. But the essence of Howard in the voice was too strong.

He also couldn't see him. Maybe this was the tobacco doing its work. Or he might've gone nuts already.

Nevertheless, he had something to do. And he hoped it would be able to make Howard's wife not hate him enough to spit on his face.

******