~*~
Two days later, James entered his parents’ drawing room to find not only his mother but his father there as well. He glanced at his father, wondering at his presence. “Good afternoon.”
His mother frequently invited him for tea, suggesting she didn’t think he’d stop by otherwise. Sadly, she was probably right. Spending too much time with them only made him realize how much he’d changed over the past few years.
Added to that was the way they both watched him closely. He didn’t care for the pressure he felt to act as if nothing was wrong and that he hadn’t changed when it was far from the truth.
“We’re so pleased to have you,” his mother said with a smile as he kissed her soft cheek, her lavender scent bringing back comforting memories and wrapping him in a warm embrace. He drew it in.
“Father.” He placed his hand on Lord Redmond’s shoulder before he could stand. “No need to rise.”
His father smiled and patted James’ hand where it rested on his shoulder. “Good to have you join us. Tell us what you’ve been up to of late.”
James took his customary chair, sorting through what he could share. There were topics he’d prefer to tell only his father and other ones better told to his mother. Many he didn’t want to tell either. What could he say that fit them both?
“It was nice to see Aunt Prudence doing so well.” That should be a neutral enough subject. “Her gardens are even more pleasing than I remembered.”
“They are her passion,” his mother said. “Though I worry she works too hard to make them perfect.”
James hid a smile. If he didn’t know better, he’d think a twinge of envy colored his mother’s tone. She didn’t enjoy gardening nearly as much as her sister yet often remarked how she wished their garden was larger.
“I noticed you had a rather lengthy conversation with Lady Charlotte at the garden party.” Lady Redmond paused as the butler brought in tea and a platter of biscuits and iced cakes.
James noted his favorites among the offerings and would’ve preferred to focus on the refreshments rather than his mother’s comment. “Yes, we spoke.” He filled his plate while his mother poured tea.
“Lady Charlotte?” His father’s eyes narrowed as he searched his memory. “Lord Wynn’s daughter? How old is she?”
“Twenty years, I believe.” Lady Redmond filled a modest plate for her husband and passed it to him before placing a single cake on her own plate. “Certainly of marriageable age.”
James was torn between nipping the conversation in the bud and ignoring it in favor of eating another cake. With a sigh, he set down his plate on the low table before them. “You remember her brother, Edward, and I are good friends.”
“Oh, of course. From your university days. I’d forgotten,” his mother said though James knew she never forgot such things. “Lady Charlotte is lovely, isn’t she? And very kind. I had the chance to visit with her at the Countess of Aberland’s last week as well. Such a nice girl.”
“Yes, she is.” James felt compelled to agree. Especially when she was all of that and more. So much more. He had yet to adjust to the idea that their adventures were truly over and that she didn’t want to see him again. How ironic when he’d decided he wanted to spend more time with her. Yet he had no one to blame but himself.
“Is she someone who...interests you, James?” his father asked.
James hid a smile, guessing his parents had rehearsed the conversation prior to his arrival. He could imagine his mother coaching his father on how to say what she wanted to know.
“Not that we wish to pry, dear,” his mother quickly added when he didn’t respond.
Though tempted to tell them his plans for his future and how he didn’t intend to marry, one look at his mother’s gentle eyes held him back. It wasn’t fair to keep them in the dark, but neither did he want to hurt them. And he had no doubt his plan to forfeit the title and not marry would hurt them both.
“I believe her father is arranging her marriage as we speak.” He clenched his jaw, tortured by the fact. Lord Samuelson was all wrong for her. Even he could see that. Why couldn’t her father? She needed someone adventurous. Someone who would make her smile and laugh. Someone who appreciated the fresh way she looked at the world, would encourage her love of learning, and adore her optimism. She needed someone like—
He blinked, realizing where his thoughts were leading. His heart thudded dully, his mouth suddenly dry.
Like him.
The thought finished before he could stifle it. Where had that come from? While he enjoyed spending time with her and the kisses they’d shared had been... Unbelievable? Amazing? There was no one word to properly describe them.
“James?”
He looked blankly at his mother, realizing she’d asked another question.
“I asked if you knew to whom?” She frowned as if puzzled by his silence.
“I’m not certain. Viscount Wynn didn’t mention it.” He didn’t want to lie, but he feared discussing Lord Samuelson would reveal more of his feelings for Charlotte than he cared to admit.
“I hope it’s a love match.” His mother smiled dreamily. “She deserves one.” She glanced at her husband. “Though I know few are as lucky as we were.”
“Indeed.” His father reached for her hand with a smile.
James’ heart warmed at the tender look they shared. They had found love soon after being introduced. Even better, their families agreed they’d suit. That was exactly how marriage should be, in his opinion.
Edward should pay a visit so he could see how husbands and wives should get along. Lord and Lady Wynn were a poor example for both Edward and Charlotte. Maybe then Edward would protest Lord Wynn’s plans for him and his sister.
“Yes, you two are very lucky,” James agreed as he reached for his tea. “Which makes me lucky to have you as my parents.”
The fact that his mother had only been able to have him and never conceived again had placed a certain pressure on him in his youth. He’d felt the need to try to be the perfect son since he was their only child. That had been part of the reason he’d bought his commission—to make them both proud.
But he feared their pride in him would quickly slip away if they realized how much he’d struggled with his memories now that he’d returned. He couldn’t bear their disappointment if they learned the truth. Better to keep it all locked away and hope they never knew. Let them think he was a better man—a stronger one—than he truly was.
He drew a long breath, hoping to keep the darkness ever at the edge of his thoughts at bay. A new topic of conversation was in order. Preferably one of which he wasn’t the center.
“We missed you at Aunt Prudence’s.” James looked at his father who scowled before quickly hiding it when his mother glanced at him. Lord Redmond wasn’t fond of parties in general, but avoided garden parties at all cost.
“Yes, well, I had a meeting with the barrister that couldn’t be changed.” His father tore his gaze from the cakes still on the table and leveled him a pointed look. “Speaking of which, we are meeting again next week. I’d like you to join us.”
James hesitated. This was the perfect opening to explain his plan for his future. Perhaps the time had come to tell them the truth after all. Wasn’t it better to have the deed over and done with?
“I am happy to join if you require my assistance.” He set down his cup and saucer, noting how his hands trembled. “However, I’ve been doing some thinking. Cousin Marcus seems as if he would make a much better earl than I could ever be.”
His mother gasped with horror and stared at her husband.
“I don’t understand.” His father looked perplexed rather than angry.
Heat crept into James’ cheeks even as shame filled him to admit the truth. “I fear my mind isn’t what it used to be. Since the war.” He brushed his clammy hands along his trousers as he forced himself to meet his father’s gaze.
“Well,
of course, it isn’t.” His father waved a hand in the air, nearly spilling his tea. “Show me any soldier who isn’t changed irrevocably by battle. Especially an officer who must lead his men forward even when he knows they’ll face death.” He leaned forward, his gaze intent. “If you weren’t changed, it would mean you had no empathy for life.”
James considered his father’s passionate words. “While that might be true, I fear the change in me isn’t for the better.”
His mother shifted closer and placed her hand over his. “We know it’s been difficult. We can see that. Give yourself more time.”
James looked away from her pleading expression. “I’ve been back nearly six months. It’s not improving.”
“How can you expect improvement when you’re filling your time with gambling, drinking, and women?” His father set aside his cup as he held James’ gaze. “Your roguish ways might fill the void temporarily, but what you need in your life is purpose.”
“I don’t disagree. I’m just not certain what that purpose would be.” James lifted his hand to stop his mother as she opened her mouth, for he knew what she’d suggest. “I can’t marry. Not now. Perhaps not ever. I don’t sleep through the night. There are days when I don’t leave my apartment. I have trouble focusing.” He pressed a hand briefly to his forehead. “I would make a terrible husband and an even worse father.”
“That’s not true,” his mother protested, her voice quivering with emotion.
James rested his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his hands over his face uncertain how much more to share. Would additional details and examples make them understand how broken he was? Even Charlotte seemed to have realized it at last as she no longer intended to see him.
“I appreciate what you’ve told us,” his father began.
James lifted his head and could easily see his mother was about to protest. But the look his father gave her had her pausing.
“There is no rush to decide your future,” his father said. “Why don’t you take more time to consider it? Meanwhile, you could join me at the barrister’s.”
How could he allow them to keep their hope when he had already decided? “But I don’t think—”
“At the very least, you’ll need to be able to keep an eye on Marcus if you refuse the title.”
“Marcus is more worried about what he’ll have at his next meal than land and tenants.” His mother shook her head. “Wait until you see him again.”
His father managed a smile at her comment. “He has grown out more than up.” Then he stood and stepped closer to James who also rose. “Son, we only want the best for you. Whatever that is. You’ve been through so much. Allow yourself more time to adjust.” Then to James’ shock, he wrapped his arms around him.
The earl rarely showed affection. But the long embrace eased the tightness in James’ chest considerably as he returned it. He hadn’t realized the heavy burden his thoughts about the future had caused until he’d released them.
His father leaned back, blinking suspiciously. “There’s no rush to make any decisions. Your mother and I are just happy you’re here.”
James glanced over to see his mother dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. Then she rose and hugged him as well.
“Thank you both,” he managed.
“Let me call for a fresh pot of tea,” his mother said and moved to ring the bell.
They settled into their chairs and filled their plates once more.
“Lord Mumford mentioned an endeavor the other day that might interest you,” his father said. “The Earl of Granger has started some sort of charity for soldiers who’ve returned from the war and are in need of assistance.”
“Oh, yes,” James said. “Granger mentioned he wanted to speak with me. Perhaps that is what it’s regarding.” He’d nearly forgotten about the message he’d received from the earl the previous day.
“Find a purpose beyond those of a rogue.” His father nodded. “That will help.”
If only it were that simple, James thought as the conversation moved on to less weighty topics. But doing so certainly wouldn’t hurt. He needed to do something with his time. The idea of being of use appealed to him, and if it helped remind him that he hadn’t always been broken, all the better. He couldn’t help but think Charlotte would agree with much of what his parents had said. The afternoon’s conversation had certainly given him much to consider.
“Tell me more about the latest news on Cousin Marcus,” he said as he reached for another cake.
Chapter Fifteen
Charlotte greeted Lord and Lady Huxley, then waited for her mother to do the same before they moved into the ballroom together. Her stomach tightened with each step, and she wished she were anywhere but at the ball. The fact that her mother had accompanied her only made her feel worse. Lady Wynn would be watching her every move once Lord Samuelson arrived.
“The décor is horrendous,” her mother murmured as they viewed the room where a mirrored wall reflected the guests along with an amazing amount of gilt on every possible surface. Even the potted plants had some sort of golden glitter on their leaves.
Lady Huxley’s garish taste was less than pleasing to Charlotte’s eye as well. “Perhaps a bit overdone,” she agreed.
The other guests who had recently arrived seemed equally taken aback based on the whispers and frowns as they glanced about.
The ball wasn’t one they’d planned on attending, but Lord Samuelson mentioned he’d be going when he called the previous day so her mother had changed her mind.
The hollow feeling inside Charlotte made her feel fragile as if a bump or misstep might shatter her. The sense of impending doom didn’t help either. There was no other way to describe how she felt about Lord Samuelson’s courtship.
“Now remember what we discussed,” her mother said as they took a turn around the room.
Discussed? Their earlier conversation had been anything but a discussion. The clarity in her mother’s eyes had only made everything she’d said worse.
“You will charm Lord Samuelson by whatever means necessary,” Lady Wynn had begun that afternoon when she’d asked Charlotte what she intended to wear.
They had been in Charlotte’s bedchamber, which afforded some privacy without her father’s presence, prompting Charlotte to try to explain her unease.
“Mother, I don’t see what the hurry is for me to marry anyone, let alone Lord Samuelson.”
“It isn’t for you to understand. We must follow your father’s wishes in this.”
“But I don’t care for the lord.” Nothing about him appealed to her. He was unpleasant in both manner and looks.
She had yet to find a subject they agreed on. She enjoyed riding, but he did not. She liked to visit museums, but he did not. He thought attractions such as Vauxhall Gardens and Astley’s Amphitheatre vulgar. She’d been so frustrated with the conversation during their drive in Hyde Park that she finally asked what he did enjoy.
“I find politics interesting as well as farming techniques. A hand of whist at my club is always a pleasure, especially when it involves a wager. I have no desire to travel beyond England’s shores as I saw enough of the world during my Grand Tour to convince me that there is no country greater than ours.”
While Charlotte agreed that England was wonderful, she longed to see how people in other countries lived. Surely, there was much to be learned from doing so.
“I hope you don’t enjoy reading,” Lord Samuelson had said as he guided the horses along Rotten Row with a heavy hand. “There’s nothing worse than an over-educated female with strong opinions on issues that are none of her concern.”
Though she knew she should hold her tongue, how could she? She refused to stop reading once she married nor did she care to have to hide the pleasure she gained from books. She knew her father would be appalled at the conversation, but this was their chance to learn more about each other and work through issues before they arose. And if Lord Sam
uelson took a sudden dislike to her, all the better.
Yet she only had to remember her mother’s expression during her visit with her father to tread carefully. She couldn’t put her wishes above that of her mother’s wellbeing.
“Actually, I do like to read,” she admitted. “Very much.”
“Poetry?” he’d asked with a hopeful tone.
“Yes, but I read all sorts of books. I enjoy learning new things.”
“Such as better ways to manage a household?” He looked down his nose at her, his thin lips pressed together. No doubt he often did that to hide his unsightly teeth.
Compromise, she reminded herself and did her best to hold back her temper. “I can’t say that I’ve read any books on that particular topic. Do you enjoy reading mysteries? The author A. Golden has written several that are enthralling.”
Lord Samuelson scoffed. “I have much weightier subjects on my mind than imaginary crimes.”
“What do you do for entertainment?” She wanted to understand how he spent his leisure time.
He frowned as if he found her question odd. “The usual pursuits. Going to my club, watching the races, reading the newssheet.”
“I’ve never been to a horse race.” As she pondered the idea, she thought she might enjoy it. If only she could have gone to one with James. “What’s it like?”
“Nothing a proper lady should see.”
“But many ladies attend the races.”
“Not ladies with whom I associate.”
Charlotte bit back a retort. The conversation only made her long for James. He’d not only appreciated her joy of learning and adventure but shared it.
She’d given up on finding an interest she shared with Lord Samuelson after that.
Now as she glanced around the ballroom in search of him, she told herself she needed to accept her fate. If her father was set on the man as her future husband, there was little she could do—or rather, nothing she could do—to change his mind.
To Dare a Rogue Page 17