by Lisa Campell
“Goodbye, your grace,” Rosa purred sweetly as she left.
He simply nodded at her.
A moment after the door had shut behind her, it opened again and his butler, Mr. Giraud stepped in.
“Good day, your grace,” he greeted.
“Good day, Mr. Giraud,” Edward replied.
Mr. Giraud had been hired by his aunt to manage his townhouse in London all these years. Edward hadn’t seen much of the butler as he grew, but in the past month since his return, he had come to see that Mr. Giraud had done a great job all those years and still continued to do so.
For this, Edward respected him. But beyond that, he had taken a liking to his person.
The old man certainly did not approve of Edward’s rakish behavior and never tried to hide it. He had never said a word concerning the matter—he was too good at his job for that—but he wore his true feelings on his face and in his demeanor, as one would proudly fly a flag in battle.
And in that very moment, there was a look of dismay on his face as he beheld the disarray Edward and Rosa had made the night before.
He sighed just before he began to speak.
“Your bath water is being brought up as we speak, and a meal will be waiting for you in the dining hall when you’re done preparing for the day. It is an hour before noon and you’re set to visit Lord Witherspoon by noon. It appears time is not on your side, your grace.”
Edward’s eyes widened. For the first time since he awoke, his eyes flew to the clock hanging on his wall.
It was the eleventh hour indeed. He hadn’t realized so much time had gone.
He turned to Mr. Giraud.
“I am not at all what you imagined, am I? Must be wearisome, having a master like me.”
It was one of those rare moments when Mr. Giraud’s face was impassive.
“I’ve not served anyone who’s returned from war before, your grace. I wouldn’t say I had any expectations, as I couldn’t have known what to expect.”
It was a brilliant response.
Edward would have racked his brain for one in return but the door opened again and servants trooped in.
“Ah… your water is here. I shall tell your valet to prepare your ensemble for the day whilst you bathe.”
Wasting no time, he began to go to Edward’s wardrobe.
Edward knew that Mr. Giraud had ended the conversation deliberately, and it probably would never be had again.
Accepting this, he followed the servants into the bath.
Nathaniel would have his head if he missed their meeting.
He couldn’t afford to dally.
Chapter Three
Edward arrived at Nathaniel’s townhouse just as the clock struck twelve. The butler, Mr. Howard, let him in and he was led to the study.
As soon as he entered, his friend, Lord Nathaniel Witherspoon, Marquess of Belshire, rose from his desk.
“Ah… Edward! You made it! I’d hoped you wouldn’t, so I would have an excuse to rib you for days,” he said, grinning.
Edward rolled his eyes at him. “I knew you would enjoy that too much and I refused to give you that pleasure. You have no inkling how much trouble I had to go through to ensure I arrived here in time.”
Nathaniel chuckled then. “Tell me, when did you awake?”
He gestured at the set of sofas on the other end of his study and they both began to walk towards them.
“Why do you ask?” Edward retorted, not missing a beat.
They reached the sofa but only Edward sat. Nathaniel went ahead to the sideboard and brought out a bottle of wine. He picked two glasses and finally joined Edward, taking the opposite seat.
He raised his shoulder in an innocent shrug. “Just curious. I heard you remained at the club, getting drunk until late in the night, after I had left. Then, rumor has it you found your way to a brothel where you picked the lovely Rosa.”
He opened the bottle and began to fill their cups.
“How do you always know so much about everyone’s whereabouts here?” Edward asked, truly surprised.
“What can I say?” Nathaniel asked, handing Edward his glass of wine. “News travels fast in London. There’s an effective gossip mill that makes certain nothing stays hidden, or at the very least, not for long. So, tell me, how was your night?”
Edward tipped the glass at him, muttering his thanks. He took a sip before responding.
“It was wild. I remember it all but only in a haze.”
“Ah… I hear the brandy you filled your belly with does that to a man. And your time with the lady? I hope that is not lost in the haze as well?”
Edward smiled as memories returned. “I may not clearly remember the details but I will never forget the way she made me feel.”
“Ah… then she’s as good as they say.”
“Why, you want to have a taste for yourself?”
Nathaniel shook his head. “Not at all. Simply curious, is all. I care about my body too much to roll in the hay with wanton women. Nevertheless, I enjoy hearing tales of them. I could in the very least live through my brothers now, can’t I?”
Edward took another sip from his wine. He had a lot to do that day. He did not want to start getting drunk so quickly, especially not when his head still hurt from last night’s escapades.
“Tell me, Nathaniel. You are not married, and you’re too noble to dishonor any respectable girl or lady. If you do not patronize the brothels, how do you satisfy your manly desires?”
Nathaniel’s response was a sly smile. It made Edward suspicious.
“No…” he gushed as a thought came to him.
“What?” Nathaniel asked. He seemed genuinely curious. His smile was gone.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never laid with a woman!” Edward exclaimed, eyes wide. The mere thought of it being true shocked him.
Nathaniel’s response made him feel foolish for even daring to think it. His friend broke into hearty laughter and continued to laugh until tears escaped from the side of his eye. It was only then that he began to recover.
As he did, he spoke, “Oh Edward, I do not know which amuses me the more. That the thought ever crossed your mind, or that you seemed so horrified by the possibility.”
“Well?” Edward asked, still wanting an actual response.
“Of course I have lain with a woman. Several, in fact. However, since I returned from the war, I have only been with one woman. She’s my mistress.”
It made sense then.
“Ah… I see. Is she someone I know?”
“Perhaps,” Nathaniel answered before taking a sip from his wine.
Edward wanted to know more but he could tell Nathaniel would not oblige him further. His friend was evidently done speaking, so he let it go.
He had always marveled at Nathaniel, respected him, too.
Edward admired him greatly and had always seen him as the older brother he never had.
They had met at camp during Nathaniel’s third year of service. It had been Edward’s first.
It didn’t matter that he was a senior. Both men had seen something profound in each other that had drawn them closer, making them more than comrades, but friends. They shared many of the same values and cared for the same things—at least, they used to.
They had stood together, fought together. They had mourned fallen brothers side by side, and had celebrated victories the same way.
In Edward’s third year, Nathaniel had sold his commission and returned home. They had continued to correspond through letters, and Edward often looked forward to the day when he would join his friend in freedom, at last.
Since he’d returned to London, Nathaniel had been of great assistance, helping him rejoin society and re-learn the ways of civilians. He had been his tour and guide, and for these, Edward was ever grateful.
However, lately, it felt as though they were two different men.
Edward knew why.
He had changed. They both had.
Only, Nathaniel ha
d become a better man because of the cruelty he had seen. Edward had simply lost too much to care about living anymore.
“You wished to see me?” he said after a moment of companionable silence.
Nathaniel nodded. “Hm. I wanted to know how you were faring. We did not have the opportunity to speak last night as we had company. Might I say now that the lords with whom we wined last night are not the kind of company you would want to keep. They’re scoundrels, the lot of them. With bloated egos inflated by their family’s wealth and the titles they believe protect them. You might have become a drunkard… and a rake, but I know the man that you are deep down. You’re nothing like them. I do not wish for you to be corrupted.”
“Ah… a good brotherly sermon is what I rode all the way from Grosvenor’s square for, even missing breakfast. I am touched by your concern, Lord Witherspoon, truly so. I shall do well to take heed of your counsel, never worry.”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Mockery does become you.”
“Does it now?” Edward asked, feigning ignorance. When Nathaniel narrowed his eyes at him, he had a change of heart.
“I apologize. I did not mean to insult your concern. I know you only care for me. Nevertheless, I will have you remember that as much as you know about me, I am also a man of strong will who cannot be so easily led astray by others. Tewkesbury and Mayweather are simply fellows I drink with, lest my soul dies from loneliness. You seldom come to the club and when you do, you drink oh so little, calling it a night while it’s still young.”
“You make me sound like an old man,” Nathaniel grumbled.
“You aren’t? You could have had me fooled,” Edward ended, a smug smile on his face, for he knew he had won that round.
Nathaniel simply cleared his throat, giving him the stinky eye. He rose again to walk to his desk. As he returned, Edward noticed the letter in his hand. It bore the Witherspoon seal.
When he reached Edward, he held out to letter to him. Edward took it swiftly.
“What is this?” he asked as he turned the sides.
Nathaniel went back to his seat. “An invitation,” he responded as he settled in.
“Oh? You are getting married?” Edward did not think it likely but it was always nice to tease Nathaniel. He grinned as he caught his friend roll his eyes.
“My mother wishes. It’s a ball. For my birthday. It’s in another week. I want you to be there. It will be held at my parent’s townhouse here in Brighton. It’s only a few blocks away.”
“A birthday ball. It has been a while since I have attended one of those. It has been a while since I have attended any ball at all.”
“Never worry. There shall be plenty more to come. The Season is upon us.”
“That it is. It begins in another fortnight or so?”
“Two and half,” Nathaniel corrected. He paused to eye Edward. “You sound very interested. Are you considering taking a wife?”
Edward broke into a gale laughter. As he laughed, he understood how hilarious Nathaniel must have found his suspicions about never laying with a woman.
“I suppose that is a no.”
“Of course! A resounding one at that. A wife? Me? Dear goodness! I do believe that is the most hilarious thing I have heard in some time. Surely, you jest.”
“You sound as though it is such an impossible thing.”
“That is because it is. I shall never marry, Nathaniel. I told you this when I returned. I am yet to change my mind and I never will.”
Nathaniel held his gaze. His demeanor had grown solemn. “I heard you then and I hear you now. What I don’t understand is why. You always looked forward to ending your service. You dreamed of coming back home and finally declaring your feelings to her… You lived for the day when you would take her as your wife and go on to have a beautiful family. These thoughts kept you going through many nights, especially the darkest ones—this I know to be true. What changed?”
Edward was immediately saddened. He had deliberately put all those endearing memories away. To be so bluntly reminded of them made his chest tighten.
Indeed, that was what he had wanted, but no longer. It was only foolhardy to dream a dream he knew would never come true, so he no longer did.
He forced a smile to his face. “I hear there are often many beautiful maidens in London during the Season.”
Nathaniel heaved a heavy sigh but said nothing of him changing the subject.
“All respectable ladies that you have no business wooing or courting if you do not wish to marry. You’ll only cause a scandal, giving your dear aunt and uncle heartaches if you choose to pursue them.”
“I suppose you do have a point. Very well, I shall settle for indulging in more reasons to leave my home, the glamour and all the splendor that often come with the Season,” Edward finished with his hands in the air, eyes closed, chin tilted and lips curved in a smile.
Nathaniel simply shook his head. “Perhaps you should consider gaining employment at the theatre. You appear to have a talent for theatrics.”
Edward eyed him as he opened his eyes and dropped his hands. Choosing to ignore his words, he asked, “What time shall your ball begin?”
“Seven. Do not be late. I suspect my mother has ulterior motives. I shall need you by my side to come to my rescue if need be.”
“Ulterior motives? Let me guess, she plans to see you engaged?”
“Or at the very least, introduced to my possible wife. A lady of good standing whose family she has known all her life and can speak well for. Someone who will look good by my side, fitting for a marquess. That is, if she doesn’t demand a betrothal right away.”
A chuckle slipped past Edward’s lips. “Why are you against the thought of getting married now? You are fiveand-twenty. Just the right age, if you ask me. I would say you were still enjoying the pleasures of the world, but you lead a boring life and are dedicated to one woman. Marriage should not be so hard for you.”
“I simply am not ready. I do not need my parents to find me a wife, either. I know I shall never agree with anyone they choose.”
“Why? Rebellion?”
Nathaniel frowned as he shook his head. “I do not concern myself with such petty things.”
“What is it then? Don’t tell me your heart already belongs to another.” It was meant as a jest but the crimson flush that suddenly filled Nathaniel’s face proved that Edward had guessed right.
His eyes widened. “What? Who? Your mistress?”
Nathaniel wouldn’t answer.
“She is more than that, is she not?” It became clear to Edward then.
“She is your lover,” he said with startling realization. “That’s why you seek to protect her. Is she lowly?”
Nathaniel finally answered. “No more than the daughter of a common carpenter. Mother would never allow it. Father would hear nothing of it.”
“So, it was doomed from the start? Why even try to fight? Is it not better to end it before it becomes impossible to let go? What would you do if she gets with child? Are you willing to have a bastard?”
“He shall not be one if that ever happens,” Nathaniel said fiercely. “I will make certain of it.” It sounded like a vow.
Edward had never seen him so serious. Before he could find the words, Nathaniel spoke again.
“Enough of this dreary talk. Shall I count on you to be there?”
Edward was quick to respond. “Certainly. I shall do well to be sober, too. I won’t leave your side for anything.”
Nathaniel nodded. He was evidently relieved to hear those words.
“Good. Thank you, Edward. I knew I could count on you.”
Edward gave a curt nod and began to rise to his feet. “I must go now. I see that you have affairs to attend to, so I will leave you to work. I also have other matters that demand my attention.”
Nathaniel rose to his feet as well. “Finally decided to become a duke in truth?”
“It looks like I do not have much choice. My uncle and aunt a
re arriving in London tomorrow. They will ask that I keep my promises. The seat in Darkwood has remained empty for too long. I can no longer be duke in name only.”
Nathaniel extended his hand for a handshake. “Then I wish you all the best, dear friend.”
Edward took his hand. “Thank you. As do I.”