by Rose Gordon
When the library doors opened, Brooke marched in and took a seat upon the closest settee. Alex went to a chair and Andrew spun around to face Lady Algen. “Your presence here is not needed,” he declared loudly.
“I think the young lady is in need of a chaperone,” she retorted as she tried to hedge herself through the library doorway.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Andrew said in a steely tone. “Her cousin is here and he is able to act as her chaperon.” Before letting her have another second to argue, he slammed the door as hard as he could right in front of her squinty face. Knowing Lady Algen wouldn’t let that deter her, he locked the door and tossed the key on the floor across the room for good measure.
“Nice display there,” Alex said with a sneer. “Are you upset you’ve been caught by the biggest gossip or are you genuinely concerned about how this will affect Brooke?”
Andrew swallowed. “I’m genuinely concerned for Brooke’s welfare,” he conceded.
“Very well, you shall marry,” Alex stated matter-of-factly.
“What?” Brooke cried.
“No,” Andrew said sternly.
“No?” Alex echoed. “How dare you say no? You know as well as I do that in the next fifteen minutes the whole house will have heard this tale, and her reputation will be completely destroyed. If you're any type of a gentleman, you’ll do right by her and marry her.”
“I cannot,” Andrew replied solemnly.
“And why not?” Alex burst out.
Andrew scanned Alex’s face. In all the years they had known each other the only time he had seen Alex angry was the other night, but that didn't hold a candle to how angry he was now.
“I just cannot,” Andrew replied baldly.
Alex sprang out of his chair and stalked over to where Andrew was, pulled his fist back and punched Andrew in the right eye. Andrew briefly lost balance, but quickly regained it. “I’m going to ask you again,” Alex’s voice a low angry hiss, “why are you refusing to do right by Brooke?”
“I’m in no position to take a wife,” he answered calmly, belying the storm raging in his eyes.
“If you refer to your lack of funds; that’s of no account,” Alex replied with his normal nonchalant tone, coupled with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m certain Brooke comes with a sizable dowry.”
“I do not,” Brooke shrieked, as she came up off her settee and joined the men in their argument. “Nor do I appreciate you two fighting about him having to marry me. He clearly has no desire to do so.” She shot an accusing look to Andrew then shifted her gaze to Alex. “Furthermore, I'm not a possession to be bartered or traded. You have no business trying to marry me off. I’m not your daughter, you have no authority over me,” she snapped.
Andrew had to admire her nerve. She had every right to be angry with both of them; they were essentially planning her life for her without considering her feelings.
“You’re correct,” Alex allowed. “I'm in no position to tell you what to do. Perhaps we should wait for your parents.”
Brooke’s face went pale as she resumed her seat on the settee. It must have just occurred to her that Lady Algen was running the rumor mill in the drawing room and her parents would shortly join their small party in the library. She sat back and stared straight ahead with a blank look on her face.
Andrew felt lower than he ever remembered feeling. How could he have let this go on so long? How was he ever going to be able to finish it? The look of hurt on Brooke’s face was enough to almost make him crack. But then he remembered how she reacted when they were found by Gateway outside and her relief when he said he wouldn’t tell anyone, thus eliminating Brooke’s ruined reputation and hasty marriage to him.
Lost in his own thoughts, Andrew didn’t register the shaking of the door handles. He didn’t snap out of it until he heard Alex say, “And here is the moment you’ve both been waiting for.”
Andrew watched Alex grab the key from the floor and unlock the door.
In stormed Brooke’s parents, Lady Algen hot on their heels. Nothing on earth would make Andrew allow that woman in the library, and without preamble, he slammed the door in her face again.
“You’re nothing but a no-good scoundrel!” John blustered as soon as the library door was shut.
Carolina took a seat next to Brooke on the settee and tried to comfort her, casting a scathing eye to Andrew. “Are you all right, darling?” she cooed in Brooke’s ear.
“Yes, Mama,” Brooke said brokenly.
Andrew’s heart twisted yet again. Her eyes were full of tears but she looked determined not to let them fall. She was being so brave in the face of ruination. All of which had come to her at his hands.
“When is the wedding?” Carolina demanded of Andrew.
All eyes turned to him. Carolina’s full of concern, John’s were angry, Alex’s taunting as if to say, “I told you so”; he could handle all those, but the ones that tormented him the most were Brooke’s. Her eyes that were normally full of laughter and amusement looked shuttered and sad.
“There will not be a wedding,” Andrew declared in his most superior voice.
There was a moment of silence before Brooke said, “You see, Lord Townson has no desire to marry me, and I share the feeling.” Her voice was steady and smooth and she lifted her chin a notch, attempting to show everyone she was satisfied with that conclusion.
“I will not accept that,” John burst out. He marched right up to Andrew. “How dare you? Do you think she is not good enough for you, is that it? She’s only good enough to provide you with an evening’s entertainment in the bushes, but not to be your wife?”
“Papa, please,” Brooke begged, her face flaming red with embarrassment.
John whirled around. “Brooklyn, if you know what’s best for you, you will not interfere in this. This man,” he shouted, pointing an accusing finger toward Andrew, “has singlehandedly ruined your reputation and you're asking me to just let it all go. Think again, Brooklyn. I am not leaving this room until there is a wedding date.”
“I cannot do that, sir,” Andrew said politely.
“Why the blazes not?” John demanded.
“Currently, I cannot afford to give Brooke the life she deserves,” Andrew admitted, though it killed his pride to do so. What else could he say? “I’m sorry, sir, I cannot marry your daughter because I made an agreement with a duke that I’d ruin her and drive your family away in order to get my estate back” That answer would not go over well.
“Pish posh,” Carolina said, her face had taken on a more relaxed, almost excited look. “Brooke comes with a five thousand pound dowry.”
Andrew ground his teeth. How could they dismiss his lack of money so easily? Was this just their way of keeping scandal at bay, or was it his title?
“Just think you will be a countess. My daughter a countess,” Carolina exclaimed with a happy clap of her hands.
Her words felt like another punch in the gut. Earlier, Brooke seemed reluctant to marry him at all and now her family was pressing her to do so for the title of countess. It always seemed amazing to him what his title could gain him, and in this case, an heiress was his prize for being born heir to an earldom.
Fighting to keep the bile from rising up his throat, he said, “Madam, my title is not for sale. A title neither makes a man nor a husband.”
“You’ve already demonstrated that this evening,” John growled. “You have no integrity or morals that a gentleman of your rank should possess. If you had, you would not resort to seducing innocent girls in the woodwork. Instead, you would ask for their hand in marriage and keep your pants buttoned up in the meantime.”
“John!” Carolina shrieked. “That is a vulgar thing to say.”
Shame washed over Andrew. It was nothing less than he deserved to be accused of being a blackguard and a cad; but to embarrass Brooke that way was unfair to her, and he wasn’t going to have it. “Sir, I demand you apologize to your daughter for that unkind and unfair st
atement,” he demanded of John.
“Demand? Apologize? You?” John said with a harsh laugh.
“Your words were unwarranted. I understand your anger toward me. You can say those things to me alone; you do not need to be so crude in her presence.”
“Indeed? Are you telling me my daughter has not been exposed to anything crude this evening?” John snapped.
“No. She has not.”
“No?” he echoed. “I don’t believe that. I don’t believe you even care what is said or done in front of her. She was nothing but a dalliance for you.”
“Enough!” Brooke screamed, jumping to her feet. Determination changed her features, making them stronger, as if she were her composed self again and ready to conquer the world. “I don’t appreciate being so lightly referred to as nothing more than a dalliance. I would appreciate it if you two would stop arguing and accept there will be no match between us.”
“Yes, there will be, young lady,” John countered. “If you think you will just go to sleep tonight and wake up in the morning with this all behind you, you are mistaken. As we speak, the whole house is talking about you as if you are a common light skirt.” John turned his eyes back to Andrew. “I will not ask you again, when is the wedding?”
“There's not going to be a wedding,” Andrew replied firmly.
As soon as the words had left his lips, there was a shout. “I challenge you to a duel. Tomorrow. Dawn. Name your weapon and second.”
Everyone’s head snapped around to where Alex was standing by a bookcase and a rolling ladder. Andrew wasn’t sure about anyone else, but he'd been so caught up in the conversation he'd completely forgotten Alex’s presence until he issued the challenge.
Andrew’s head spun. A duel? Was he serious? Andrew knew it was a possibility this might happen, but he didn’t figure Alex would be the one to challenge him. Besides their long friendship, which he knew this whole situation was about to demolish, Alex was an abominable shot. If he picked pistols, there was no telling how it would all end. He could aim high and miss Alex. But whether Alex meant to or not, there was a very real possibility of Andrew actually being injured, although it would likely be an accident. He wasn’t concerned so much about being killed, but who knows where Alex would unintentionally hit him with that bullet.
That left swords. But once again, Alex was not skilled in that department, either; probably less so than with pistols. Why did he make a challenge he didn’t have a chance with? Was he trying to get himself killed or was his mouth working without consulting his brain first? There was only one way to find out. “Swords, and I don’t need a second, you won’t require one either.”
Alex paled, but nodded.
“Stop it you two,” Brooke said impatiently. “There will be no duel. First, it’s illegal. Isn’t it?” She stopped and waited for her father’s nod of confirmation. “Second, Alex, let’s be honest you have no sword skills.” She raised her hand to stop him from interrupting. “I know you have your pride and honor and all that, but I saw you fighting with the gamekeeper’s son with wooden swords yesterday and you lost. Badly. Oh, and do not tell me you let him win. You were trying harder than he was, and you still lost.”
Alex’s mouth snapped shut, and his face went a bright shade of red.
“There's still one other option left, I can return to New York,” she said, her voice went high and cracked midsentence.
“No.” Andrew said. Now it was his turn for his mouth to run independent of his brain’s influence. He didn’t know why he spoke, this was exactly what he’d wanted. What he needed. If they packed their bags and left for New York everything would work out according to plan. She’d be gone and able to start over in America without this tainting her reputation, and he’d get his estate back and be free of Gateway.
“No?” Brooke questioned. She looked to Andrew to explain what he meant, but he said nothing. “It’s the only course left open to our family. Nobody over there would know what happened here. My sisters will not be marred by my mistakes,” she said with a sob. “You win, too. You will not have the death of my cousin on your hands.”
Everyone looked back at Alex, who looked mad and relieved at the same time.
“We all know he could never survive a duel. Sorry, Alex, but it’s true.” Then she turned back to face Andrew. “Men don't bear the same shame with a scandal such as this. In a few weeks time you’ll be accepted in places I would not be if I were to stay.”
Andrew watched her face as she said her speech; it changed from composed to sad to angry and then to resigned.
With as much dignity as a young lady could have in her situation, she swept out of the library, leaving them all in her wake.
“Wait! Brooke, come back,” Andrew said, trying to grab her arm and pull her back toward him.
Brooke shook off his grasp and met his eyes. “You don’t want to marry me, and quite frankly, I don’t want to marry someone who does not want me. I will return home in the morning and put this all behind me.”
Andrew let go of her and watched her walk down the hall, taking his heart along with her. Andrew started at the thought. Did she have his heart? She must or else he wouldn’t have this empty ache in his chest where his heart used to reside.
He looked back and saw Alex, John and Carolina all standing in a line with identical looks of contempt on their faces.
Not wanting to speak to any of them at the moment, he turned and walked away.
There was someone he did need to see at the moment, and now it was time to go find him.
Chapter 25
Brooke would always wonder how she made it back to her room. Her eyes were filled with tears that threatened to spill, but somehow didn’t flow until she reached her bedchamber and closed the door tightly behind her.
She wearily made her way to her bed and threw herself down on top of the counterpane. How had her life come to this? One minute she was being held and caressed by a gentle and loving Andrew, then not ten minutes later, he was rejecting her as his wife. All the while, everyone in the house thought she was a fallen woman.
Going back home seemed the only option she had left. She could start over without this hanging over her head. It was clear that if she stayed, Andrew had no intention to marry her and nobody else would want to marry her if they knew about this. Which, of course, they would. Oh, why did that dreadful woman have to show up? Why could she not have come five minutes later, when her gown was buttoned and hair was up? And why on earth did Lady Algen of all people have an interest in Astronomy?
How would she explain this to her sisters? How would she face Papa and Mama tomorrow bearing the shame of them thinking of her as a shameless wanton? Would they ever forgive her this or would they hold it over her head?
Way too many thoughts and questions flooded her head before she fell into a dreamless slumber.
Brooke awoke the following morning to loud voice outside her door.
“Move out of my way,” a voice that sounded like Andrew’s boomed.
“No.” That voice she recognized as Mama’s.
“You’ve done enough. If you think I’m going let you in there for one final romp, you are greatly mistaken, young man,” Papa yelled.
“Have a care for your daughter and keep your voice down,” Andrew said tightly.
“Why all the sudden do you have such interest in our daughter?” Papa demanded.
“Because she is to be my countess and I will not allow any gossip spread about her,” Andrew stated as if he were reciting a well known fact.
She heard Mama squeal with delight and Papa mumble something inaudible; knowing Papa it probably was a watered down curse he was known to say in times of great frustration.
“Now that you know my intentions, please step aside,” Andrew said.
Brooke froze. Was he going to come in her room now? She was still wearing her gown from last night. Her hair was a rat’s nest; she wouldn’t be surprised in the least if there really was a rodent in it at this poin
t. She was sure without having to look in a mirror that her face was not a picture of beauty with her skin all red and eyes puffy from crying. She was not presentable, especially for her potential groom.
Her heart skipped a beat. Her potential groom. Just last night he didn’t want to marry her and now he did. Why? What changed?
That thought brought her back from her daydream. Why was he really here?
Heedless to her scary appearance, she walked to the door and swung it open. “What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded.
Four sets of eyes locked on her haphazard form. Mama gasped when she saw her and quickly tried to cover it up with a cough. Papa’s mouth dropped open, then he closed it with the audible snap as his teeth met. Her eyes met with Andrew’s. His eyes held a hint of humor, but he merely raised an eyebrow at her. Then she heard a slight cough and jerked her gaze over to the right, and was greeted by the sight of Mr. Grimes. “Perhaps this conversation should wait? Will you be….er…presentable within a half hour?” he asked quietly, not meeting her eyes.
“Yes,” Brooke answered shyly, then closed her door.
After she shut the door she began to take her gown off as quickly as she could, and thought she should ring for a bath, but quickly dismissed the idea because she had only a half hour to be dressed and downstairs. That only gave her time to change gowns, and try to pick out as many twigs from her hair as she possibly could just to get it up in her coiffure again.
She had successfully removed her gown and was looking for another when Mama let herself in.
“You’ll need to wear something very special for your engagement,” she exclaimed.
Peeking around the corner of her wardrobe, Brooke took in her Mama’s face. She looked so happy. “Why are you so happy?” she asked.
“Because my daughter is going to be married, without delay I expect, to a gentleman of rank, and you must admit, he’s rather good looking.”
Brooke shrugged. Andrew wasn’t that good looking. By no means was he ugly, but she still stuck to her original opinion. He was not the dashing knight that young girls dreamed of, but to some women he would be considered handsome. She fell firmly in that category.