He felt bad about that.
He should have called on them more often. He was a terrible, terrible friend. But they’d been newly married and, in all honesty, Oliver felt awkward around them and, yes, maybe a little jealous of Ashland.
Ashland had found two loves in his life, but Oliver couldn’t find one.
Except he had found a love. Ellen. And she was back, and this time he was determined to make it work. Yes, he was definitely standing in front of Ashland’s home, so he should visit.
At least he thought it was Ashland’s home.
The front door opened, and a figure appeared.
“Oliver? Is that you?”
“Yes!” he cried.
“Shhh.”
Oliver stumbled up the steps, catching himself on the banister as he smiled at Ashland, who was clearly in his sleeping clothes.
“It’s nearly morning,” Ashland said.
Oliver stopped and frowned. “Is it too late to visit?”
“Try too early. Come in.” Ashland opened the door wider, and Oliver walked in.
“The butler saw you skulking about and woke me.” Ashland said, as he led Oliver up the stairs to his private sitting room.
“I couldn’t remember which home was yours.”
Ashland chuckled. A bleary-eyed servant hovered. “Coffee, please,” Ashland said.
“I re’mber when you just had Mrs. Smith,” Oliver said, referring to Ashland’s one housekeeper when he’d lived in the townhouse as a bachelor.
“Mrs. Smith is still with us,” Ashland said. “But she’s asleep right now.”
“And Charlotte? How’s Charlotte?” Oliver liked Ashland’s new wife. She was feisty and a bit eccentric and she perfectly matched staid, rigid Ashland.
“Charlotte is sleeping as well. The whole house is sleeping.”
“Except for you.”
“Except for me. You’re drunk.”
“Juss a little.”
Ashland settled into a well-worn chair that Oliver remembered from the townhouse. They’d had many a night there, drinking and talking.
“What happened?” Ashland asked.
“Happened? Nothing happened.” Oliver frowned.
“You wouldn’t be this far into your cups if something hadn’t happened. It’s not like you to get this pissing drunk.”
“Oh! I’m getting married, old man!” Oliver grinned.
Ashland’s expression showed shock. “To Lady Sylvia?”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “Good God, man, does everyone know about her?”
“Her mother made it known that you were practically courting her.”
“Practically courting her? I don’t even know the chit. Juss met her tonight. Not for me. Girl can’t think on her own.”
“So who are you marrying?”
“Lady Fieldhurst.” Oliver made sure to pronounce her name carefully so as not to confuse Ashland. But Ashland still looked confused.
“Lady Fieldhurst? When did this happen?”
“It hasn’t. Not yet, at least. But it will. I decided. Tonight. I decided tonight that I was going to marry her.”
“And does Lady Fieldhurst know this?”
“No. But she will. Soon.”
Ashland leaned forward and was about to say something, but the servant arrived with coffee and poured it for them. Oliver was very grateful for the coffee.
Once the servant left, Ashland said, “Have you thought this through?”
“Yes.”
“But you barely know her.”
“You barely knew Charlotte when you married her, and you two married, thinking you would divorce.”
“Those were different circumstances and I was trying to save Charlotte from a murderer.”
Oliver waved his hand in the air. He knew all of this, but he was irritated at Ashland for taking the wind out of his sails.
“I know Ellen better than you knew Charlotte.”
“You said you were acquaintances a long time ago—”
“Seventeen years ago.”
Ashland sat back and contemplated Oliver for a bit. “This isn’t like you. You don’t make rash decisions like this, and you’ve always sworn off marriage.”
“Not true. I’ve delayed marriage. I always knew I would have to marry someday. Someday is here, and Lady Fieldhurst will be my bride.”
“What if,” Ashland hesitated. “What if Lady Fieldhurst isn’t keen on this plan?”
“I will convince her.”
“She’s being courted by Needham.”
Damn Ashland for being so sensible. Didn’t he see that for once Oliver was happy, elated? He was going to marry Ellen.
“Not officially.”
Oliver refilled his coffee. The buzz from his earlier drinking was wearing off, and his head was beginning to hurt.
“Oliver,” Ashland began. “I don’t mean to pry, but how well do you know Lady Fieldhurst?”
“I’ve made love to her twice. The second time tonight.”
Ashland sat back, clearly shocked, and Oliver felt bad. A gentleman never bragged about such intimate things, but this was Ashland, and Oliver knew Ashland would take this secret to the grave. Still…he shouldn’t have said anything.
“She’s the woman for me, Ashland. I knew it back then but was too young to know how to stop her marriage to Fieldhurst. I won’t let her slip through my fingers again.”
“Maybe you should give it more time. Court her correctly.”
There was some sense to what Ashland was saying. Seventeen years ago they had started out as friends and ended as doomed lovers. This time they started out as lovers and he wanted to become her friend. He wanted to learn more about Ellen, all the things he’d missed in the intervening years.
He slapped his leg. “I will court her properly.”
Chapter Sixteen
Very early on the morning that Oliver planned to speak to Ellen’s father, Oliver’s father woke him early. “We’re going to the estate to attend to some business.”
Oliver’s mind was fuzzy. He’d floated home early in the morning from the ball on thoughts of life with Ellen. He would take her on a tour of the continent after their marriage. Surely, his father would not begrudge him time away from his lessons for a wedding trip.
And then he and Ellen would settle into their own life. He’d considered looking at townhomes that he could purchase. He wanted a home all his own to bring his wife to.
And then children.
The thought made him nervous. He didn’t feel ready to be a father, but together with Ellen, he knew he could do it.
Now he was looking at his father through blurry eyes. “The estate?” But that was hours away, and not a trip one could take in one day.
“Yes. You’ve seen the books from the estate, but you need to see firsthand what we’ve been discussing. And you need to meet some of our tenants.”
“But…” He rubbed his gritty eyes. But he was supposed to talk to Ellen’s father today. He was supposed to begin marriage negotiations.
“But nothing. Hurry now, we need to get an early start.”
Oliver threw the covers back and jumped up. “When will we return?”
“I thought we’d spend about four days there, maybe more. It depends. We can’t have the servants open the house for us for just one day.”
Ordinarily Oliver would have looked forward to such a trip. He loved their country estate, the seat of the earldom. Some of his best memories were from his childhood spent there. But not today.
“Get dressed. Hurry.” And his father was out the door and striding down the hall before Oliver could formulate a response.
Quickly he penned a note to send to Ellen, letting her know that he was going out of town and that when he returned he would proceed with their plans. He tasked his valet with getting the note to her, because he trusted no one else.
And then he left with his father.
…
“You’re very quiet tonight.”
Ellen and William were attending a small dinner party given by one of his colleagues, but Ellen’s mind wasn’t focused on the get-together at the moment.
She’d wanted to cancel with William but knew that it would look bad in front of his colleagues, so she’d dressed and pretended the best she could, but apparently she had not pretended well enough.
“I’m just tired,” she said.
William’s expression closed up. There were times she thought she knew William, and there were times he seemed almost a stranger. She’d been drawn to his good looks—superficial of her, she knew—and had been intrigued by the fact that he was a well-respected surgeon. She liked surrounding herself with people of different backgrounds, and she’d been drawn to him only to find that he was entirely captivating. He made everyone feel at ease, and he was knowledgeable about everything—politics, music, the arts, as well as medicine. She’d been surprised to learn that he’d played the violin since he was a small boy.
And then there were times that he was moody and unresponsive and demanded certain things of her. For instance, he wanted her to be witty and funny at all times, whether she felt like it or not. He wanted her at his side during these interminable dinner parties that she found completely boring. Sometimes she detected a dark side to him but brushed it off as weariness or preoccupation with a certain patient. His services were much in demand, and he lectured nearly every day. And then there was the royal family. He always had to be available in case he was needed at the palace.
“No one likes a dull companion,” he said softly to her, but there was an edge to his voice that shocked her. She looked at him to see if he were jesting. But he wasn’t. His expression was entirely serious, his eyes cold, his mouth pinched in disapproval.
“I’m sorry if you think me dull tonight,” she snapped. “It’s not as if the dinner conversation is stimulating.” In fact, the men had spoken of their work, their studies into the human body and diseases. It was unacceptable dinner conversation, but the other wives always said that was what happened when you married a doctor.
Ellen thought it crass and vulgar.
“We’re not here to entertain you, my dear.”
Ellen pulled away, hurt and surprised at this sudden change in him.
William put a hand on her arm, and his expression softened to regret. “Ellen, love, forgive me. I don’t know what’s come over me. That was rude and uncalled for and not true at all. You’re having an off night. We all have them. Let me take you home so you can get some sleep.”
She was somewhat placated, but his words did not ease her completely.
They bid their hostess goodbye and climbed into William’s carriage.
“Is it Philip?” he asked as they got on their way.
“Excuse me?”
“Philip and his antics keeping you up at night?”
“No.” It was thoughts of Oliver, reliving that moment at the side of the house while a ball took place on the other side of the wall. It was her constant thoughts of what if? What if she had followed through with their plans and not married Arthur? What if she had stood up to her parents? What if she had thrown convention out the window and did what she’d wanted to do? How different all their lives would be.
“The boy needs a firm hand. He needs a strong male presence in his life,” Needham was saying.
They’d been over this before. William thought she was too easy on Philip, and maybe he was right. Maybe Philip did need a man to help him navigate this stage of his life. Lord knew that Ellen didn’t know how to make him into a man.
They pulled up in front of her home, and William helped her down to walk her to her door. He stopped a few feet away and turned her toward him.
“I truly am sorry for the beastly way I treated you,” he said. “Do you forgive me?”
He looked so forlorn that Ellen couldn’t help but smile.
“It’s already forgotten.”
Relief swept across his face. “I’ve been under stress lately, with work and such, but that is no excuse.”
“I understand.” And she felt bad for thinking less of him. He had so much pressure on his shoulders.
William took her hand in his and suddenly looked very serious. So serious that her heart started hammering and she suddenly didn’t want to be there anymore. Something told her to run, to escape.
“Ellen.” He cleared his throat. “I admire you greatly.”
“A-as I you,” she said through a tight throat.
“I believe we suit very well, and you would be an asset to my practice.”
Her brows came together in confusion. An asset to his practice?
“What I mean is,” he said. “The other doctors and their wives think highly of you and you fit in well with them and I just think that we should combine our forces and wed.”
He finished out of breath, as if he had to get it all out at once and left her standing there stunned. That was by far the strangest proposal of marriage she’d ever heard.
“William—”
“I botched that badly,” he said.
“It’s not that. It’s—”
“I know you have Philip and I can be the man to take him in hand and force him back on the right path.”
“Force him?”
“Come now, we both know he needs a strong man to guide him. A mother can’t teach him what a man needs to know. I mean, look what’s happened. He’s been ejected from Eton.”
“He has not been ejected. He’ll return after the summer break.”
He squeezed her hands. “Very well. We can discuss Philip later. This isn’t about him anyway.”
But she was peeved now. Philip had always been a sticking point between William and Ellen. Having no children of his own, how was William to understand how difficult it was to raise a child, especially a son whose father had died at a pivotal moment in his life?
“You don’t have to answer me now,” William was saying. “I know I took you by surprise. Although I’m certain you’re aware that I have deep feelings for you.”
It was a relief to hear that he did have feelings for her and he didn’t choose her to be his wife because she got along well with the other wives.
He released her hands and stepped back. “Just think about it.”
She hesitated, confused as to what she was supposed to do and say now. William was a good companion and an interesting man…but marriage?
He led her to her front door and made sure she was safely inside. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it.
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, hoping to push the sudden memory of Oliver out of her mind. She didn’t want to marry William. She wanted to marry Oliver. She wished she could tell Oliver about Philip and they could run away and be together, all three of them, without Society’s pressure.
“Mother? Are you ill?”
She dropped her hands to find Philip descending the stairs.
“You’re home early,” she said, bypassing his inquiry.
“I haven’t left yet.”
“Isn’t it a bit late to be going out?”
“It’s barely eleven o’clock. Nothing interesting happens before midnight.”
Ellen pressed her lips together. If she told him that sixteen years old was too young to be going out this late, he would argue and they would fight, and she didn’t have the mental fortitude for a row with her son tonight, because it always ended with him slamming the door on his way out and her staying up half the night worrying about him.
William was right. Philip needed a strong man to take him in hand.
“You look a bit peaked,” Philip said.
“William proposed to me.” She’d had no intention of telling Philip this, but her mind was in such unrest that the words were out before she could stop them, and she instantly regretted them when her son’s lips twisted.
“I hope you said no.”
“I didn’t.”
“Surely you’re not seriously considering marriage to
that windbag.”
“Philip! That’s unkind.”
“But the truth. The man is a pompous ass.”
“That’s enough, Philip. I didn’t raise you to be rude.”
“Which surprises me that you would be with a man like that.”
“Philip! This is beyond unkind.”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry, Mother. It’s just that you are so much better than him. He thinks only of himself, and you need someone who thinks of you.”
Her spine deflated. Philip had a way of deflecting her anger and showing her that he really was the caring boy that she remembered.
“Besides, you don’t need a husband,” he said. “You’ve told me so, many times.”
This was true. Ellen enjoyed her independence. Arthur had left them well off, so she was not obligated to marry again to secure hers and Philip’s future. If Philip married someday she would become the dowager countess, and there were some privileges that came with the title.
“I’m off,” he said with a cheeky grin.
Ellen moved out of the way and Philip left, off to do whatever it was he did with his friends this late at night. Part of her said to go after him, to tell him he must stay in, but she didn’t have the wherewithal, and that made her feel like a horrible mother.
Their future might be secure now but, if Philip didn’t change his ways, things might drastically change.
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning Oliver called on Ellen. More precisely, he was calling on Philip, but he also wanted to see Ellen.
He woke with a hammering head, but his valet made him drink a concoction of tomato juice and alcohol. It was horrid, but it always cleared the sticky cobwebs from his mind. And while he’d been dressing he realized that he’d quite fallen down on the education of little Lord Fieldhurst. Today he would rectify that, and an added bonus was that he would see Ellen.
He was shown into her parlor to wait for her.
When she arrived, this time in a light blue day dress, there were circles under her eyes and her lips were pinched. She looked tired. Weary.
“Ellen.”
“Oliver.”
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