by Sue London
Imogen. Good God, what was the woman doing here now? Having her pop in and out of his life had been entertaining when it hadn’t mattered so much. Now? Now it felt suspiciously like it could be torture. Worse than anticipating the slide of a blade or swing of a fist. Physical pain he was quite used to enduring. Emotional pain was something he had only recently been reacquainted with.
But the fear made him brazen. Rather than receive her from behind his desk, he went to stand in front of it. If it was to be pain, then he wanted to face it and move on.
She appeared at his door still in her coat and bonnet. Perhaps she didn’t plan to stay long, then. He couldn’t fathom what news she thought she needed to stop here to tell him. Looking upon her, he felt a twist in his chest. How had he already forgotten the precise shade of her hair, the intensity of her aqua eyes? They were even lovelier than he recalled.
She furrowed her brow. “Robert, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. What brings you to London?” Why are you here? Will you stay for the afternoon? Forever? I want to taste you again more than I want to remember my own name.
The smile she gave him wasn’t born of humor, but something sadder. “You.”
He realized that he had somehow lost the simple thread of their conversation. “Beg pardon?”
“I came for you. Well, to discuss a proposal with you.”
“And that would be?”
“I find myself in need of a husband that can run my mother’s shipping company.”
Robert crossed his arms. This could be taking a positive turn. “And you needed advice on this?”
“Don’t be more of a bastard than you need to be, Robert.”
That made him grin. “I’m not a bastard, I’ll have you know. I’ve the inheritance rights to prove it.”
“I’m asking if you would consider marrying me.”
“And running your mother’s shipping company.”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
She narrowed her eyes at him in frustration. “Yes as in you agree that we have established what I am asking, or yes you will do it?”
He sobered. “Yes, I will do it.”
She seemed surprised by his quick acquiescence. “That’s not all. Or at least not everything I wanted to discuss. I’ve never wanted to bear any children.”
“All right.”
“That’s your only reaction? All right?”
He shrugged. “I’m sure that Charlie and his eventual sons will make fine viscounts when I’m gone.” He could tell that she was frustrated by his answers, but wasn’t sure why.
“What if,” she pressed, “I wanted to take lovers?”
He felt a flare of ugly, violent jealousy but merely said, “Then I suppose what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.”
She made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a harrumph. “I never meant for you to fall in love with me.”
“Who is to say that I have?”
She shook her head. “Don’t even try that, Robert.”
“I shall endeavor not to make it an issue.” He didn’t know what else to offer her. Did she want poetry? Promises? How could words make anything better? Only actions demonstrated true intention. However, if he knew what words he could tell her that would make her stop looking at him so sadly, he would say them.
* * *
Imogen wasn’t quite sure what she had expected, but certainly not how much his feelings for her had changed. Expanded. She herself had told him that he was capable of boundless love. His brother had warned her that Robert’s love was not romantic but practical and “unbound by any restrictions of morality or self-preservation.” But to feel that love wash over her? It was like being in the vast ocean. To know that he would do anything for her? It was to know the power of Poseidon. He would do anything including hide his very love for her, if she chose. Her entire life she had thought she wanted freedom from her responsibilities, the freedom to do whatever she wanted. Now she had a different and headier freedom. Someone who loved her and would support her in doing anything. For the love of God, why didn’t Charlie Bittlesworth own the world? He was the sibling who had seen the truth, had seen what Robert was capable of.
“What is it you want to hear, Imogen?”
She realized she had been silent for some time. She tilted her head to the side as she regarded him, one finger on her lips. “Perhaps I want to hear you tell me that you love me.”
“I love you, Imogen.” It was a surrender, really, to offer up that truth. She felt it reverberate through him.
“Perhaps I want to hear it again.”
She felt his wave of irritation and he leaned his hands back on the desk. “I love you, Imogen.”
“Perhaps-”
He pulled her into a rough kiss. “Don’t push your luck, woman,” he whispered against her lips. She laughed.
“Most people don’t laugh when I threaten them.”
“Was it a threat?”
“It could have been inferred as one,” he grumbled. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her temple. She found she was quite content. After a time he finally asked, “What changed your mind?”
“My mother is pregnant. I don’t want my little sister or brother to grow up as I did.”
Robert stepped back, his hands on her arms. “Your mother is pregnant?”
“Yes. It was unexpected to me, but apparently they planned it.”
“Hm. I supposed she’s young enough.” Count on Robert Bittlesworth to know her mother’s age. Her drew her close and she could feel him thinking again. “When is she due?”
“Early summer.”
“So she’s a ways along.”
“Almost three months.”
He chuckled, “I must warn you, siblings can be bothersome.”
“You seem to like yours.”
“Like may be a strong term for it.”
She smiled to herself, entertained that he still resisted admitting how much they meant to him. She enjoyed being in his arms and didn’t wish to think about anything else.
* * *
They stood there embracing in his study as though they had all the time in the world. Then Robert heard his front door open again. Quite the busy day.
“Robert?” Charlie. “Hullo, Bobbins. Is my brother about?”
“In the study, Charlie,” Robert called out. More quietly to Imogen he said, “Your first lesson is how horrible a sibling’s timing can be. And as they are usually well-intentioned, you can’t even punish them for it.”
Charlie was already talking as he walked up the hallway. “I’ve confirmed that Vickers is bringing that stallion to Tattersall’s. I really think that you should bid o-” Charlie’s voice cut off comically when he rounded the doorway. ”Miss Grant!”
Robert allowed Imogen to disentangle herself so that Charlie could bow over her hand.
“You’ve impeccable timing,” Robert said. “We can just now announce our engagement.”
“You’re to be my sister? Truly?”
Robert should have anticipated Charlie’s enthusiasm. His brother picked up Imogen and twirled her around, surprising a laugh from her.
“Set down my wife, please.”
“She’s not your wife yet.”
“Then she’s not your sister yet, either. Set her down.”
Charlie let Imogen find her feet, but kept an arm companionably over her shoulder. “Sabre is going to be so jealous that I knew first.”
“Oh!” Imogen said. “Should we go tell Sabre?”
“Only if you have your wedding plans firmly in mind,” Robert warned her.
Charlie nodded. “True. She bullied George into a second wedding simply because we hadn’t been at the first one.”
“I, well,” Imogen looked at Robert, “we hadn’t talked in terms of plans.”
“You have carte blanche.”
Charlie turned to Imogen with a grin. “Robert letting someone else plan something? You must have mystical powers.”
>
Chapter Forty-Seven
Imogen laughed and looked back at Robert. Regardless of his claims to the contrary, Robert very much liked his siblings. He regarded them with a type of proud indulgence that seemed as much fatherly as it did brotherly. Imogen knew what it looked like when siblings didn’t like each other. She had her mother and uncle for comparison. Imogen hoped she would be more like Robert in this regard.
As Imogen hadn’t replied to Charlie, Robert did. “I’ll be far too busy running her company to make complaints over where I’ll be standing when we make our vows.”
Imogen felt Charlie’s confusion. “You have a company?”
“My family is in shipping.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” Robert said, “I’m sure we’ll need to leave soon for Boston in order to formalize the change in management.”
Charlie’s grin stayed in place, but his arm slipped casually off her shoulders. He, indeed, had a great deal of control, because on an emotional level she had just changed from favorite new sister-in-law to Woman Who Is Taking My Brother Away. Anyone looking on the party wouldn’t have supposed a thing was the matter. Robert, however, seemed to know his brother well enough to assume how it affected him.
“We won’t stay in Boston,” he said softly.
“Of course you won’t,” Charlie said cheerfully. “Now, when are we going over to Sabre’s so that I can brag that I knew first?”
Robert took her hand. “Would you rather stay with Sabre or your cousin while in London?” Honestly, she would rather stay with Robert. But she had a suspicion that Sabre would be a far more relaxed, and dare she say permissive hostess than Violetta. Love her cousin though she might, the last thing she wanted was someone who would keep her from Robert’s bed, either by accident or design.
“Your sister, I think. If she’ll have me.”
“I’ll ride over while you ready your carriage,” Charlie said, turning to leave.
“Afterwards, we will go see to the horse,” Robert called after him.
That made his brother stop and turn back. “You’ve no reason for a new stallion if you’re traveling, Robert.”
“He can stay on that new land you’ve purchased.”
Charlie gave his brother a lopsided grin. “How did you know about that?”
“How often do I have to tell you? I know everything.”
Charlie rolled his eyes in brotherly derision and affection before walking away shaking his head.
Robert pulled Imogen close again and kissed her temple.
“He’s upset, Robert.”
“I know. He’ll be fine.”
“I’m worried, he turns his anger inwards.”
Robert chuckled. “You’ve obviously never seen him in a fight. Meanwhile, where is your carriage if it wasn’t out front?”
“I had them pull it around. I thought that a carriage with ten outriders would be unseemly on the street.”
“Ten outriders?”
“I no longer like to travel alone.”
“Good. One can never be too careful. Are you ready to go see my sister?”
She nodded.
“And are you quite prepared to keep her from planning your wedding?”
“Our wedding.”
She felt the flare of affection her correction caused. When Robert kissed her it was easy to sink into the feeling. He was the first to pull away. “Come now, we have duties to attend to.”
“Wait,” she said, looking around. “Where is Sabre’s pillow? You didn’t get rid of it, did you?”
He took her hand. “Become attached to it, have you?” His amusement calmed her concern.
“It’s atrocious,” she said archly.
“Well, it is busy being atrocious at my country house.”
“You have a country house?”
He smiled. “I do now. You’ve been there.”
“I didn’t realize it was for sale!”
“It wasn’t, precisely.”
“Oh Robert, what did you do?”
He gave her one of his cynical smiles. ”If you knew the things I did about people you wouldn't ask me how I can kill them, you would ask me how I can let them live.” He shrugged. “I decided he could live without the house.”
“All the criminals of England will give a great sigh of relief that I’ve distracted you with the running of our company.”
“Undoubtedly.”
What was Imogen to do with this complicated, dangerous man? She had a weakness for him, that was clear, but could she ever love him? Or would she come to regret her decision?
“Will you miss it?” she asked. “Killing people?”
His emotional recoil, his anger, was really all the answer she needed, but she waited for his words. “What makes you think I would miss that?”
“I didn’t know-” She stopped and tried again. “It’s clear that your life has been plunged in darkness for some time. Why would that be, if you didn’t enjoy it?”
She felt him trying to find the words to explain it. “One cannot just do what is enjoyable, not when doing the right thing can make a difference.”
That made her feel ashamed. “I’ve only ever done what is enjoyable.”
He crossed his arms again. “Clearly not, or you wouldn’t be here today. I’ve no illusions that you have feelings for me.” He paused for a moment and cleared his throat. “I’m quite sure it’s unlikely you ever will, beyond lust. But as I find myself unwilling, perhaps unable to live without you, I’m very thankful that the sense of duty you have towards your parents led you here. I’m honored to fulfill this role for you.”
Imogen had spent all of her life protecting herself, her heart. Her sensitivity was such that learning to ignore the feelings of others, to turn away, had been necessary for survival. She realized she and Robert Bittlesworth were more alike than she’d originally assumed. He had been capable of atrocities because he had denied all tender parts of himself. But hadn’t she in some ways been guilty of the same, not through her actions but her inaction? No one else had her capacity to know what another needed in the moment, be it a kind word or something more. How many had suffered simply because she repressed her talents? Because she balked at connecting to anyone beyond her parents? And she had even turned from what her mother wanted most from her, for her own preservation. Right this moment, she had a man laying his heart bare for her. A man who, the more she knew him, she realized was among the saddest and loneliest she had ever met. He thought to have no better. He did not even expect the woman he loved, the one he planned to spend the rest of his life with, to care for him more than in passing. As she absorbed his sadness she felt her heart breaking. This, this was why she held herself apart. She felt her knees go weak, felt her breathing become harsh.
“Imogen?” Robert reached out for her as she sank to the floor. “What’s wrong?”
“How do you live like this? I can’t breathe.”
She felt his panic wash over the underlying sadness. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”
As she looked up at him, saw his concern for her, she realized that perhaps it was she who should not have judged him so harshly. Sabre had made it clear that their father was terrifying. Robert had taken the adversity of that childhood and used it to grow stronger. He hadn’t allowed it to destroy a core of good that was only perceptible by the most astute. His sister obviously didn’t see it, and even his brother didn’t understand it, but she now saw how it drove everything he did. He obsessively guarded his siblings, and taught them how to defend themselves in his absence. He worked in service to his government because he thought it the right thing to do, not even faltering if that service required that he kill. Now he offered to run her family’s company because he wanted to prove himself worthy of her esteem. She felt tears running down her face, but realized they weren’t truly her own. They were for him, for that desolation she had sensed in him.
He was on the floor with her. “Should I call for the doctor?”
�
�Just hold me.”
He pulled her into his lap. She wound her arms around him and stayed there until they were both calmer. She kept her eyes closed as she started to speak. “I know you may not understand how I see the world, how I feel.”
“No, not at all.”
“I wasn’t always like this. When mama took me on the first ship, I thought it was the beginning of a tremendous adventure. My talents hadn’t fully bloomed yet. But by the time I was thirteen I was so sensitive that merely being in a room with other people was like having them shout their feelings at me all the time.” Robert hugged her closer. “I didn’t tell mama. She relied on me to tell her what people were feeling. It’s amazing the difference that insight can make, especially for important negotiations.” She felt the direction of his thoughts and laughed lightly. “You’re already considering the convenience.”
“I wouldn’t ask it of you.”
“Do you think she did? But what she did want was for me to take over the company.” Imogen sat back so she could look into his eyes. “I couldn’t do it. Business requires harsh decisions and I’m not capable of them. I can’t tell a man news that will destroy his life, not when images of his children flood my mind in his grief.”
He was quiet for a moment before agreeing. “I can see where you couldn’t.”
She rested against him again. “It’s not as though that was every instance. Although for me it is no easier to come to an accord with an evil person.”
He laughed softly. “Our engagement being an excellent example.”
She sat back again and looked at him. “You’re not evil, Robert.”
He regarded her skeptically, as she felt hope and cynicism war within him. “If I told you of the things I’ve done-”
She laid a finger on his lips. “You’re quite wicked, Robert Bittlesworth, but you’re not evil.”
He frowned. “What’s the difference?”
“Did you kill for pleasure? For gain?”
“No, but-”
“You are competitive, unforgiving, and harsh, I will grant you. You have a capacity not only to judge, but also punish others that I can’t even fathom. That isn’t evil. You have a discerning mind. Certainly you can see the difference between yourself and someone like Baron Granby?”