“I suppose she’s doing fine under the circumstances.”
George moved closer. “Willie, I know you had plans for Miss Marks, but I think if you and I just have a frank discussion then you might—”
“There’s no need for that,” she cut him off before he could finish.
“Not now, of course, but if I could pay you a call?”
“I assure you, Lord Chesterton, that won’t be necessary.”
He fought the desire to grab her, shake her, and then kiss her until her lips were bruised and she couldn’t think straight. “I need to do what’s right by Henry. He loves your sister, deeply. I’m not sure if you’ve received any of the letters he’s sent, but he is reformed and ready to devote his entire life to making her happy.”
Willie stared at her glass, now almost empty. “I understand your position.”
“Do you? Because I don’t see how you could sit back and let the two of them go on like this, hurting like they are. Especially given everything that we went through. Now is the time that we can actually do something to make it right. It may be too late for us, but it’s not too late for them.”
She looked up, her mouth firm. There was no sign of emotion, anger or otherwise. But her eyes were wet. It was proof that she did indeed feel something. “Please leave this alone, George. I need you to let me handle this.”
“Why? Because you’ve done such a spectacular job already? Don’t you see? In your quest to protect your sister, you’ve effectively devastated all of us.” It was a low blow. He didn’t know how badly she still hurt until now.
“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Her apology caught him off guard. He took a step back. “You’re apologizing?”
“People are starting to stare,” she said, looking around the room. “I’m sure it’s because they can’t imagine why you’re spending so much time speaking to me. I think it’s best if I join my sister now.”
She began to walk away and he reached out, his hand lightly touching the bare skin of her upper arm. Willie looked back at him.
“If they’re staring, it’s because they’re wondering why someone like you would ever give a man like me the time of day.”
Willie turned around and left the room.
“George!”
George turned to the sound of his name. Henry was rushing toward him as if he were escaping a fire. “That thirsty are you?”
“She’s here,” Henry blurted.
“Who’s here?”
“Kitty. She’s really here.”
George put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I beg of you, resist the urge to make a scene.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you want to talk to her and probably profess your love in some grandiose fashion, but I just spoke to her sister and Mrs. Turner has not changed her mind.”
Henry raised one quizzical eyebrow. “You spoke to Mrs. Turner?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Henry. She refused to even discuss it.”
“But she assured me…”
George was confused. “Who are you talking about?”
Henry shook his head. “Nothing. I have to go.”
George knew when trouble was brewing. The air was thick with it. “We should leave. We should leave right now.”
If Henry heard him, he made no indication. He was walking out the room at a good clip. George put down his glass and walked swiftly to catch up. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit. An altercation with Willie would have disastrous consequences.
“Henry, this is not the place,” he called down the hall.
People were starting to stare at the two brothers. He could hear the sound of instruments. The musicale would be starting soon. Henry’s pace had increased from purposeful strides, to the pace akin to someone chasing him. George held a hand over his heart, trying to slow it down.
He was too old for this.
His brother stalled and searched around the room. It was emptying out as guests scattered to find seats in the ballroom where the musicians were setting up. It was a modest affair with around fifty individuals in attendance, which made it easy to disappear – to their obvious misfortune.
The sea of guests parted, and George finally saw why Henry had taken off.
Miss Marks stood there with her aunt and Willie. He couldn’t fault him for being smitten, the girl was pretty. Of course, her sister was the real beauty in the family, but Miss Marks had a fresh faced innocence that would appeal to most men.
“What are you doing here?” Miss Marks asked.
“We don’t want to miss the opening song. Come along now, ladies,” Lady Whitehead ordered, tugging on Miss Marks’s arm.
Willie intervened, putting a hand on her aunt’s arm. “Why don’t you go along and save our seats? I can see to this myself.”
Her aunt hoisted her shoulders back as if in protest, but then nodded and walked away.
George caught Willie’s gaze for a moment, but she looked away.
He wished he’d caught Henry before this. This would only gain Willie’s ire. He’d hoped that he could talk to her, to convince her to marry him. But this, this could dash all those hopes.
George touched his shoulder. “Henry, we should also find our seats.”
Henry brushed it aside. “I need a moment to speak to her.”
“I don’t want to speak to you,” Miss Marks turned around and faced the doorway, but took no steps.
Willie opened her mouth to speak, and George’s spirit sunk. This wasn’t how he wanted things to go. He had nothing to do with this, but she’d still resent him for having made a scene.
“Hear him out, Kitty.”
George thought he’d have to pick his jaw up off the floor. This was certainly not the reaction he expected.
By the looks of astonishment on the others’ faces, it wasn’t the reaction they expected either.
“Should we take this out of doors?” Henry stuttered.
“No. But make it quick, please. I’d hate to read about this in the gossip pages tomorrow.”
Miss Marks faced Henry, her eyes already welling up with tears. “You lied to me. You said you would never play cards again. That’s how you lost your ring.”
“Just give me a proper chance and hear me out. I didn’t gamble. I did lie to you, though, and I’m sorry. But it wasn’t about cards.” Henry looked at his brother and George nodded back, silently urging him to continue. “I wanted to start things off right with you. I sold most of what I owned to pay back my prior debts. I wanted to do it on my own, without my brother’s assistance. Only, I underestimated how much I owed and the ring was all I had left. I didn’t lose it gambling in a card game.”
“I hate to interject,” Willie interrupted. “But when we came across your signet ring, the man who had it said you lost it in a game of Whist.”
Miss Marks turned to her sister. “Henry hates Whist. He told me he only plays Vingt-et-un.”
“You remembered,” Henry remarked, his ears turning a rather pronounced fuchsia.
“I remember hearing something similar as well.” Willie looked up at George. “Then how did your ring happen to be an entire county away in another man’s possession?”
Henry took a deep breath. “I was attacked. I told Kitty I’d been kicked by a horse in the stable. But the truth was, I lost it in a fight. It was the only thing of worth I had left and I couldn’t defend myself. I was too humiliated to tell you the truth.”
Miss Marks clasped her hands to her chest. “You should have told me. You must have been so scared.”
“What kind of man was I if I couldn’t defend myself? How would you ever trust me to defend you?”
“Oh, Henry,” Miss Marks took a step forward, but Willie stuck her hand out and pulled her back by the ribbon about her waist to a respectable distance.
Henry looked at Willie. “I love your sister and promise to never lie to her again. She has no father, but perhaps I can ask you for her hand. I
apologize for not doing so in the first place. It was wrong of me and I’ve learned so much since then. I can’t promise I won’t make any more mistakes, but I do promise to at least learn from those I do make.”
George couldn’t resist smiling. His little brother had made him so proud.
Willie remained stoic as ever, her face not giving anything away. She turned to George when she spoke. “I want whatever is best for my sister. And I believe she is a fair enough judge of her own happiness. Kitty? Do you want to marry Lord Wainscott?”
“Yes!” she squealed.
The two went to embrace, but Willie put her hand up. “Let’s go back to our home and celebrate. I’m afraid we’ve provided more than enough entertainment for the good people of Mayfair for one evening.”
“What have you done?” A voice came from behind them.
George and Willie turned toward Lady Whitehead who was making a bee line for the happy group. “Aunt Louisa,” Willie cautioned her from approaching. “What’s done is done.”
“How could you do this? I thought we had an understanding.”
Willie sighed. George couldn’t help but notice she was looking considerably more tired than she had earlier in the evening. “We never had an understanding. You’re a bitter, unforgiving woman who is so scared of being hurt that you don’t realize the damage you inflict on those around you. You tell yourself it’s for the betterment of your family, but your way doesn’t make us any better. It sets us up for lifetimes of pain. Not allowing yourself to love isn’t protecting your heart, it’s killing it.”
Lady Whitehead stiffened. “How dare you speak to me that way? After all I’ve done for you. And your sister? She’s not even my blood!”
Henry took a step forward to defend his fiancé’s honor, but George put his arm out to stop him.
“And I thank you,” Willie answered. “But I’m afraid you might have done more harm than good. I can watch over my own heart from now on, and so can Kitty. If you can abide by those rules, then we can remain in each other’s lives. But if you can’t, I’m afraid we can’t continue on with you.”
“I just was trying to protect you. Chesterton knew all about it.” Lady Whitehead looked at George as she spoke. “Your father wasn’t in favor of the match either. We did what needed to be done to save considerable problems later.”
It was George’s turn now. “I listened to my father when I should have followed what I knew was right. You protected your niece, just as you said you would. But I wanted to do the same. What’s done is done, but I won’t stand in the way of my brother’s happiness. They have my complete support, financial and otherwise.”
Willie looked up at him, her face beaming. He couldn’t imagine feeling more the hero had he slayed an actual dragon, not just metaphorically.
Lady Whitehead must have sensed the tide had turned, and not in her favor. She stared them all down, then turned and hobbled away, the unhappy woman she always was.
Henry turned to Willie. “Thank you so much for arranging this.”
Miss Marks and George exchanged equally surprised looks.
“You planned this?” George asked.
Willie smiled weakly. “I had to make it right after being so wrong before. I tried to keep Kitty safe, and instead, just stifled her, denying her happiness altogether. I needed to give your brother a chance, to hear him out. I would have done it sooner, but I just found out about the letters he sent the other day. It would appear Aunt Louisa had struck again.”
Kitty looked at Henry. “You sent me letters?”
“Almost every day.”
George was trying to keep the two young lovebirds at an acceptable distance apart when he noticed Willie swaying out of the corner of his eye.
“Willie?” he called her name, but it was too late. She’d lost all color and fell to the floor.
George dropped to his knees beside her and checked to make sure she was breathing. “Willie,” he called, this time more frantically. “Willie!” he shouted, hysterical. “Call for help,” he yelled at Henry. “Go!”
Henry grabbed his fiancé’s hand and then the two ran into the next room, quickly returning with a footman.
Her breath was shallow, but she was breathing. He touched her face, her beautiful face. It was clammy, but cool. “Willie,” he repeated, his voice strangled. “Willie…”
Chapter 20
George sat in the front drawing room of Lady Whitehead’s townhome.
The sun was just coming up. The curtains hadn’t been drawn the night before and he squinted at the onslaught of light. He’d been there since the night before, waiting to see Willie. They’d rushed her home and summoned the physician immediately. That man said that she was exhausted and she simply needed some decent rest. That’s when he’d insisted on calling another just to make sure she was adequately being cared for.
Rest did not include an audience. So, he and the others had been relegated to the drawing room.
He felt…impotent. There was nothing he could do to help her. He wrung his hands, unable to imagine how he could have handled her illness all those years ago.
Henry reached over and placed his hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be all right. You heard what the physician said. She just needs to rest.”
“The second physician hasn’t left yet,” George snapped back.
Lady Whitehead sat off in the room, worrying her hands. Kitty walked over and sat on the floor next to her.
Lady Whitehead shook her head. “I’m sorry for everything. I do love you girls and hope that you’ll one day forgive me for all I’ve done. I just wanted to keep you from going through all that I had to endure,” she said quietly.
Kitty took her hands in her own and said something about everything working out.
As much as that old woman angered him, he did feel a bit of compassion toward her, knowing that she might have been nearly as worried as he was.
He heard the door upstairs open and close. He made a mad dash to the bottom of the staircase, waiting to pounce on the physician.
“Well,” the man said as he descended the steps. “I’m afraid it’s a bit more serious than the other gentleman had deemed it.”
George swallowed down the growing lump in his throat. “How serious?”
“It’s not going away anytime soon. Mrs. Turner has requested that I remain rather silent, stating that she be the one to explain it all herself.”
George grabbed the man by his lapels. He was an elderly man, quite a bit a smaller than himself, but that didn’t stop him. “Tell me! Can it be cured?”
Henry helped to separate the two, stepping in between to protect the doctor.
The man appeared confused. “There’s no cure available that I’m aware of.”
Kitty ran up to the physician and quickly escorted him out of the house.
George didn’t know how the others reacted to the man’s callous explanation, nor did he care. He just knew that he was filled with something blacker than he’d ever known before. It was anger, despair, sadness. He could focus on nothing but making his way up the staircase and being at Willie’s side. Years ago when she’d nearly died, he hadn’t been there. He was not going to let that happen again.
Ignoring the pleas to come back down, he took a moment outside her door to collect himself. He couldn’t let her see him so worried. She’d need him to be strong now. He opened the door and slowly stepped inside.
He’d never been in her room before. It was simple, tasteful, much like her. There wasn’t a lot of furniture. A cabinet on one wall held books, another across from it, probably holding her clothes. There were many windows and plenty of sunshine. She’d always loved the outdoors. He approached the bed as silently as he could. She looked to be resting and he didn’t want to disturb her.
The white bed linens were pulled up around her shoulders and she looked like an angel, her blonde hair down, framing her face. He dropped to his knees beside the bed.
“Willie,” he whispered. “I have so
much I want to say to you. For the last month, I’ve thought about sending you a letter, but nothing ever felt right. I think it’s because what I feel needs to be said and a letter can only convey so much, especially when I’m the one writing it. I need to actually say the words out loud. To you.”
“I love you. I’ve always loved you, I never stopped. I couldn’t stand losing you the first time. I wasn’t myself for years, and even when I’d thought I recovered, I really hadn’t. My heart never healed. I refused to even consider the idea of marrying another. I couldn’t imagine waking up with anyone but you. You effectively ruined me for every woman in the world.”
“I would think about you. When I read a book I’d thought you’d like, or I saw a flower that I’d seen before with you. I was never able to cut you out of my life. You were always a part of it, even if you didn’t know it. When you arrived in my foyer, it was like I’d finally woken up from a bad dream. You were really there.”
It was getting harder to speak, his voice shaking with emotion. “I did lie to you about the room at the inn. The truth is, I wanted to spend the night with you. I was scared I wouldn’t get the chance again, so I took it. I lied, and I know lying is wrong, but I would do anything for a second chance with you. That night we spent together was the answer to years of prayers and hope.
And when you shared the story of how you’d suffered the miscarriage alone, and believed I was so callous to not care. There are no words for the grief I felt at hearing that. A child with you, our child. I’ve always wanted that. I was devastated, crushed that I wasn’t with you during that time. I swore to myself that day, that I’d never let you go again.
You may think you escaped me at the inn, but you didn’t. For the last month, all I’ve done is plot and plan how I was going to convince you to marry me. I had visions of roses and jewelry, but then I remembered something you said to me. Conversation. And that’s why I couldn’t put it in a letter. I just needed you to give me the chance to talk to you, to tell you all that you mean to me, and convince you that this is our chance. Seldom does anyone get a second chance at anything in this life, but look – we were handed it. Even if it’s for a short time, I want that time with you. Every moment of every day.”
Second Chance Marquess (Second Chance Series Book 1) Page 17