Did she dare ask Lady Granger, Margaret’s cousin, how her husband’s efforts were progressing with his charity for wounded soldiers? Though she didn’t think it was meant for men such as James, the need for other soldiers who’d returned home injured was great.
Before she could find the opportunity to ask, Lady Mumford, a friend of their host, raised the topic. “Lady Granger, I’ve been following your husband’s efforts in helping wounded soldiers. His work is to be applauded.”
“Thank you. He is reaching out to as many men as he can.” Lady Granger smiled, pride evident in her expression. “It has been very rewarding to watch those who he’s helped start a new life, something they believed impossible with their injuries.”
“Given the numerous soldiers who were permanently wounded, that must be a challenge,” Lady Redmond said earnestly. “It’s wonderful to hear of an organization that helps teach new skills to allow them to support their families.”
“A variety of trades have joined with the charity to offer training. Providing the soldiers a choice of work that interests them has made a world of difference.” Lady Granger’s wide blue eyes took in each of the ladies. “Anything you can do to help spread the word of the charity’s mission so that more can be helped would be appreciated.”
“Of course,” Lady Mumford agreed then sighed. “At times such as this, it seems as if the world is collapsing. So many people have fallen on hard times. It’s terrible to see how the darkness of war has followed us into peace.”
“Indeed.” Lady Feldstone, another friend of Lady Aberland’s, nodded so enthusiastically the feather on her bonnet bounced in an alarming manner. “My nephew returned well over a year ago and is just now regaining his feet.”
Charlotte listened with interest as the discussion continued. Normally, conversations at teas were filled with gossip and fashion rather than weighty issues such as this. But given the influence some wives had on their husbands, excluding her mother, it was wonderful to hear of the active interest the ladies had in a subject that needed to continue to be addressed.
All of them appeared genuinely concerned with the plight of soldiers. Considering the number of men who’d fought, no doubt their lives had been touched in one form or another.
“Taxes are still high and the labor market has been flooded with those discharged from the military.” Lady Mumford’s worried gaze held on Lady Granger. “Any help that can be provided to those disadvantaged by injuries is tremendous.”
“True,” Lady Granger agreed. “We have discovered that not all wounds are visible. Some of those in need appear uninjured outwardly but sink into despair.”
“Battle fatigue,” Lady Redmond added, her expression somber, making Charlotte wonder if she understood some of her son’s pain.
While tea was served along with a delicious array of biscuits and cakes, the ladies discussed other ways they could aid the poor. Charlotte was stirred and determined to become involved as well.
“Lady Granger and her husband are so inspiring,” Charlotte whispered to Margaret.
“One of our cousins was struggling upon his return, so when Louisa’s soon-to-be husband mentioned his interest in gathering donations to provide aid, I believe she fell in love with him even more.” Margaret glanced fondly at her cousin.
Charlotte’s heart twisted with longing. Hearing of another love match only made her feel more despondent over her own future. Why did Lord Samuelson have to be the man her father was convinced would make her a good husband?
Because it wasn’t about her, she reminded herself. It was about her father and connections and finances. She feared that even if she did manage to discourage Lord Samuelson, her father would select someone else cut from the same cloth.
But she wasn’t betrothed yet. Until then, she needed to gather all the memories she could. Yet the thought caused her to sigh as she couldn’t imagine doing so without James by her side.
~*~
James gathered his winnings from the center of the table before downing the rest of his drink. Odd how quickly his glass seemed to empty this evening. But given the fact that the spirits had yet to dull the ache inside him, he waved for the waiter to bring a fresh one. “Care for another hand?” he asked the other players at the table.
Lord Barrett scowled as he tossed down his cards then stood. “Not me.”
“Agreed,” Viscount Calvert said as he also rose. “You’ll not be taking more of my money.”
“Luck is certainly on your side this evening, Redmond.” Mr. Roberts shook his head as he stood as well.
“It does seem to be.” James glanced at the other men standing around the table. “Anyone else care to take their places?”
Edward slid into one of the empty chairs. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“I’ve been right here.” James didn’t welcome the sight of his friend when it only brought thoughts of Charlotte to mind. Where was the waiter with his drink?
“Why don’t we call it a night?” Edward suggested. “I’ll see you home.”
“Whatever for? The evening is still young.”
“Actually, it’s not. Morning has nearly come.”
“Truly?” James patted his waistcoat pocket for his watch but decided pulling it out required too much effort. It didn’t matter what the hour was. He didn’t want to go home to lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, and remember Charlotte’s hurt expression.
Sleep had become even more elusive since his visit to the conservatory with her. Their conversation had stirred up too many memories, reminding him of how much he’d changed and the disorder of his life.
He much preferred evenings such as this where he could focus on cards and drinks, two things over which he had some measure of control.
“Time to allow someone else a chance to play,” Edward prodded with a smile. But the smile didn’t hide the concern in his eyes.
Perhaps it truly was time to end the evening.
“If you insist.” James rose, surprised when the room spun unsteadily. Mayhap he’d had more to drink than he realized. He frowned, annoyed with himself. He normally made it his policy not to drink over much when he gambled. The two didn’t mix, especially when he preferred not to lose money. Thank goodness this night had proved to be an exception. He needed all the funds he could gather if he was going to forfeit the title.
He bid the other players goodbye and stepped outside, breathing a deep breath of the cool, night air. Edward was right. A hint of dawn lightened the horizon, though low pockets of fog remained. Relief filled him at the sight of the breaking day. The worst nightmares came in the deepest part of the night.
“Care to share what has you so determined to drink and gamble away the night?” Edward asked as he joined him.
“No.” He refused to tell Edward that his sister was part of the problem. He had to ignore his feelings for Charlotte and hope they eventually faded. The thought had him rubbing his chest at the ache there.
Edward clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps we should walk for a time. What do you say?”
“Excellent idea.” Especially since the idea of sitting in a moving carriage for any length of time was unappealing. He frowned as he glanced up and down the street. “Where are we?”
“If you don’t know, it’s definitely time to go home.” Edward chuckled. “I promise to make certain we both arrive home safely. I haven’t had nearly as much as you this time around.”
James looked over his shoulder to study the building they’d just exited, recognizing Bennet’s, a gaming hell he occasionally frequented. Though he searched his memory, he couldn’t think of how he’d come to be there.
The realization was a sobering one.
He knew drinking was only a temporary means of dealing with his issues. The terrible way he felt the next morning should’ve been enough of a reminder not to overindulge. With luck, the lesson this time would last at least a few days. But soon the demons would chas
e him until he succumbed to the temptation to once again numb his thoughts.
“I'm pleased to hear you won.” Edward kept a steady hand on his shoulder as they walked.
“As am I.” He was working on a few investment opportunities and could use more funds to help secure his future.
James forced himself to look around and note their surroundings. London wasn't always safe even though they were near St. James’s. Two gentlemen, one the worse for drink, might look to be an easy target for a footpad. He brushed his hand against his pocket realizing how many notes were stuffed inside it. Apparently, he truly had significant success this evening.
“Is it true your sister is to marry Lord Samuelson?” The notion was inconceivable.
“I hope not, though Father is convinced otherwise. How did you learn of that?”
James frowned, unwilling to mention his conversation with Charlotte. He shouldn’t have raised the topic. “Are you prepared to inherit?”
Edward released his hold on James as he considered his answer. “Another odd question.” When James continued to look at him steadily, Edward shrugged. “I suppose I'll be ready. I haven't given it much thought. Nor does my father as he rarely mentions it. What of you?”
Though he considered telling Edward of his plan to refuse the title, he hesitated. Edward would surely question his decision. The only way to convince his friend that he was making the right choice would be to explain how he felt. That was something he didn’t care to do now, if ever.
James shook his head. “I prefer to think my parents will live forever.” He tried a smile, hoping Edward wasn't as observant as his sister. She seemed to see through his pretense far too easily.
“As cheerless and wretched as my father appears to be, I hope he doesn't last too many more years.” Edward sighed.
“Do you think his unhappiness is caused by gout?” Edward’s father had been irritable ever since James had known him but had had the painful disease for a long time. He made everyone around him miserable and took no pleasure in his family.
James never wanted to cause his loved ones grief. That was another reason not to have a family of his own. How could he make them happy when he felt so broken?
“I don’t know.” Edward focused on the street ahead though James guessed he didn't see it. “He was never a happy person. When I was younger, I assumed all men, especially those with titles, were so weighted by their duties and responsibilities that there was little time for happiness. But many have found the elusive quality.”
“True.” That much James would admit. Many men their age had at least found contentment in their lives. While he knew happiness was out of reach, did he dare hope for some measure of ease later in life? At the moment, that didn’t seem possible. Not given how he’d felt since his return. Glimpses of happiness were fleeting—like a butterfly fluttering through a garden, rarely staying on a flower for long. A moment or two of joy with his parents and several with Charlotte. Those were times he would always cherish. More seemed impossible.
“I sometimes wonder if happiness is a choice,” Edward added.
“How do you mean?”
“What if it's something we must learn such as becoming skilled with money or running an estate? Perhaps one should focus on the good rather than the bad. On what we have rather than what we wish we did. On finding a measure of joy each day.”
“You might have something there,” James admitted at length despite the doubt that suggested such a thing was impossible, at least for him. “But such weighty topics should be discussed when I’ve had less to drink.”
“Excellent point.”
“Are we going to walk all the way home?” He looked back, realizing how far they’d already come.
“No,” Edward said with a laugh. “Let us find hackney and seek our beds. When evening comes once again, we will see who has any money left after your success.”
James managed a smile, ignoring the emptiness that filled him at the thought of another night of drink and cards.
Was this it? Was this all there would be to his life? He sincerely hoped not because he already knew it wasn’t enough.
~*~
James entered the Hearn Musicale two evenings later with no small measure of trepidation. It wasn't that he didn't care for music. It was that performances of this nature were often less than pleasing to the ear.
Why he had allowed Charlotte’s urgent message to bring him here this evening he didn't know. Actually that wasn't true. He missed her. He missed her lovely sparkling eyes and her beautiful face. He missed the light she brought into his world.
Yet he knew eventually that light would dim if she spent too much time with him. He'd already witnessed it when they’d visited the conservatory. His presence caused a similar result when he was with his mother, which was why he limited the number and length of visits with his parents.
It was difficult to pretend all was well when he was with them, especially when it came to his mother. Eventually, worry clouded her dark eyes, and her smile came less easily.
“There you are.”
He turned at the familiar feminine voice to see Charlotte approach. His gaze swept over her, his spirits lifting despite himself. She looked lovely this evening in a primrose gown with a wide band of satin ribbon adorning the neckline and sleeves. The color complemented her smooth complexion and brought a delicate blush to her cheeks. He pressed his hand against his thigh, a reminder not to touch her.
“I would like to state that I am here under duress,” he said quietly, only half-jesting.
To his surprise, her smile widened as amusement sparkled in her eyes. She glanced toward the top of the room where a pianoforte waited along with a violin. “I have no doubt the Hearn sisters will provide an entertaining performance.”
“Hmm. I worry what you mean by ‘entertaining’.”
Charlotte chuckled, the sound echoing inside him. “I will let that be a surprise.” Then her expression sobered as she studied him. “Are you well?”
Trust her to speak plainly. No doubt she noted the shadows under his eyes. What happened to good manners that prevented one from remarking on such things?
“Of course.” He gave a single nod as well. That was all he could allow himself. The urge to share his sleepless nights and melancholy surprised him. No doubt it was only tempting because of her suggestion at the conservatory that he speak about his experiences.
Many people asked how he was, but few truly listened for a reply. That made it easier to avoid answering the question honestly.
“And you?” he asked.
If he hadn't been watching her closely, he might not have seen the slight tightening of her lips or the way her gaze fell to the floor briefly. “Well. Thank you.”
Her answer annoyed him when he could see it was anything but true. Yet how could he call her out on the lie when he’d given a false answer as well? They made quite the pair, both avoiding the reality of their lives whenever possible.
“Thank you for responding to my message. Since you haven't been by the house of late, I wasn't certain how else we could speak.”
He refrained from sharing how tempted he’d been to come to her window in the night and toss another pebble on the glass with the hope she would come down to see him. Obviously, he’d spent too much time with Edward of late because thoughts of Charlotte were continually on his mind.
“What is it that we have to speak about?” Surely she didn't think they would go on another of her adventures.
“I should very much enjoy seeing the Cascade at Vauxhall Gardens.” Her delighted, secretive smile—dimples and all—was nearly his undoing.
“What does that have to do with me?” This was yet another outing she could easily do with her friends. Many people ventured to the gardens to see the imitation of a waterfall. There was no risk in doing so, assuming she had a proper chaperone.
“Because I wish to see it with you.”
H
er admission put a chink in his armor. Yet he couldn’t understand why she wanted to spend time with him. Not after what he’d said on their last adventure.
“You must know that isn’t possible.” James glanced about the room, half-expecting to find the other guests staring at them. “If we’re seen together in such a setting, gossip will soon follow.” He studied her for a long moment. “I wouldn’t want to harm your reputation.”
“I have already thought of that and will invite a few others to go with us. It will be entertaining. Much like this evening.” The teasing glint in her blue eyes had his mouth twitching. The woman was incorrigible.
“I believe our definitions of the word differ. Surely your brother would be a better choice than me.”
“Absolutely not.” Her look of horror was nearly comical. “He would never agree. Besides, going with him would be a miserable experience.”
The inference that going with James would be the opposite warmed him. He did not doubt that watching her delight in viewing the Cascade would make it truly pleasurable. But it was still a terrible idea.
“Please say you will accompany me.” As he opened his mouth to refuse, she narrowed her eyes and lifted a single finger to halt his reply. “At least tell me you'll think about it.”
He looked at her for a long moment then said, “I will and the answer is no.” Never mind that he wished he could agree.
She chuckled. “That is not what I meant and you know it.” Then she looked into his eyes, her expression somber. “I won't have much longer. Father is insistent that I will be betrothed soon and then my adventures will end.”
His heart clutched at the thought of her marrying Samuelson. At the thought of her marrying anyone. But there was little he could do about that.
“Just one more. Please?” she prodded.
How could he deny her and the worry in those lovely eyes? Against his better judgment, he nodded reluctantly. “This is the last one. Are we agreed?”
To Dare a Rogue Page 11
