Anne was shaking her head before he was done. “No, that is not why.” She held up a hand when he started to speak. “Please, let me finish. Certainly your appearance, as you well know, is shocking at first. You must forgive my initial, quite natural, reaction.” He grudgingly inclined his head. “But before ever seeing you my mind was made up.” She looked him in the eye and spoke the truth. “You see, I am in love with someone else, Mr. North, and it would be unfair to both of us were I to marry you. Were it not for that, I assure you I would have no qualms about marrying you. Your appearance may be startling at first, but it is hardly as off-putting as you imagine it.”
As she spoke, Mr. North’s face grew colder until it had turned to stone. “There is no need to dissemble, Miss Goode,” he told her dispassionately. Anne had no idea how to respond. This man did not seem to want her pity or sympathy and offering such would surely offend him.
She heard a dejected sigh from Mr. Borden and looked over to see him slumped down in his chair. He bit his lip and ran his hand over his jaw. “So that’s it then?”
“Might I ask why Mr. North’s marriage is of such great concern to you, Mr. Borden?” Anne inquired.
Mr. Borden blushed a deep red. “I’m just concerned about him, Miss Goode. I have taken care of him since the war, you know, and I can’t seem to stop.”
“Someday,” Anne told him gently, “you may not have a choice.”
“If you are both done discussing me as if I wasn’t in the room,” North said sarcastically. “And Borden, for the last time stop mothering me. Get out and let me handle this.”
Mr. Borden just looked at him with a disgusted frown. “Yes, you were handling it marvelously, Gideon, with your usual delicacy and eloquence. I heard you insulting the poor girl.”
“Oh no, Mr. Borden, I assure you he did not.” Anne might as well not have spoken.
“If you weren’t so determined to find me a wife ‘worthy of me’,” North drawled, obviously quoting Mr. Borden, “then this little scene would not have happened at all. I told you I will take any little doxy you find who can take care of the house and my needs without fainting or squealing with horror.”
“Oh see here,” Anne sputtered, “I am not a—”
“Ha!” Mr. Borden shouted. “I paraded a fat lot of them before you, if you’ll remember correctly, and you found fault with every one. How long has it been since you’ve had a woman, Gideon? That is your problem.”
“I really don’t think—” Anne said in a quiet little squeak, but they ignored her, so she just shut up.
“That is your answer to everything, Charles,” Mr. North growled in that bass rumble of his, and Anne got a little shiver. A nice shiver. Well, he did have a very manly voice, after all. “You think a good hump will cure my bad temper, my nightmares and this damned ghost leg!” He picked up his stump and shook it, nearly oversetting himself.
“That is enough!” Anne shouted, and both men stopped and stared at her as if they’d forgotten she was in the room. She smoothed a hand over her hair. “That is quite enough from both of you. Sit and be quiet, and I will endeavor to forget that I have been insulted numerous times in the last half an hour.”
“You needn’t lie,” Mr. North said, grabbing his crutch and struggling to stand. Mr. Borden moved as if to help but fell back in his chair with a disgusted huff when Mr. North glared at him.
“Excuse me?” Anne was offended. “I was indeed insulted.”
“Nonsense,” Mr. North said succinctly. “And I was talking about your poor excuse for not marrying me.”
“Mr. North,” Anne said, standing up to confront him, “I assure you that I am indeed in love with someone else.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” Anne heard a familiar voice say from the doorway, and she looked over to see Freddy with Brett standing there by his side.
Mr. Matthews poked his head in the door. “Hello, North, hello Borden.” He stepped into the room and took off his hat. “How do you do, Miss Goode?” he asked pleasantly.
“Fine, thank you, Mr. Matthews,” Anne said breathlessly, but she never took her eyes off Freddy and Brett. Freddy’s eyes were red-rimmed, as if he’d been crying. And Brett was pale, his hair a complete mess. They’d never looked so wonderful to her. Both men were devouring her with their eyes, and for the first time in two days Anne felt alive.
“How many damn people are going to interrupt my proposal?” Mr. North groused. He limped over to the door and held out a hand to Mr. Matthews. “Hello, Matthews. What are you doing here?” He sounded resigned.
“Oh, just in the neighborhood,” Mr. Matthews said pleasantly. “Oh is that tea? I would love a cup.” He walked over and sat across from Anne with a smile. She slowly sat down, looking frequently over her shoulder at Freddy and Brett.
“Oh I…well, let me pour you a cup,” Anne mumbled.
“North, is it?” Freddy said politely. “How do you do? I am Ashland.” Anne looked over to see Mr. North shaking Freddy’s hand even as he followed Freddy’s gaze to Anne, and then looked at Anne speculatively.
“Are you?” Mr. North drawled. “How nice.”
“Hmm,” was Freddy’s response as he let go of his hand and wandered over to the sofa to sit next to Mr. Matthews. They’d come for her. She supposed she should be upset, since it directly opposed everything she’d worked so hard to convince herself of the past two days, but she didn’t care. She was euphoric. They’d come for her.
“Haversham,” Mr. North drawled. He sounded amused, and Anne blushed, refusing to look up as she poured Freddy a cup of tea. His fingers brushed hers as he took the cup and Anne’s hand trembled, almost dropping it.
“Did we interrupt your proposal?” Brett asked in a hard voice, and Anne jerked her head up to stare at him in astonishment. He was still holding Mr. North’s hand, and he was staring at the crippled man angrily.
North pulled his hand away with some difficulty, shaking the feeling back into it. “Actually, the proposal portion of the afternoon is over. Care to hear the verdict?”
“Absolutely,” Brett growled, turning his stare on her.
“It was no.” Mr. North’s delivery was flat. He turned to Anne and bowed awkwardly. “My apologies, Miss Goode. I see that I was wrong.” Anne licked dry lips and then chewed the lower one, not sure what to say. At her silence Mr. North looked uncomfortable. “I’m not sure what I can say to excuse my behavior.”
“Goodbye would be fine,” Brett told him, and Anne gasped at his rudeness.
Mr. North just laughed. “You never did say much, Haversham, but when you did open up your mouth whatever came out was generally intelligent and concise.” He gestured to Mr. Borden. “Come along, Charles. We shall have to beat the bushes a little harder to find me a wife.” He looked at Anne in horror after he said it. “That is, not to say that you, Miss Goode…” he trailed off.
Anne couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, I quite get your meaning, Mr. North. Thank you.”
He bowed and limped out the door, a silent Mr. Borden behind him.
“Stephen,” Freddy spoke and Anne broke away from Brett’s gaze.
“Hmm?” Stephen inquired while he sipped his tea.
“You will excuse us?” Freddy asked politely.
Stephen looked confused for a moment and then blushed as he quickly put down his cup and rose. “Oh, oh of course. So sorry. Yes, well, um, shall I wait for you? No, no that’s not good. That is to say, I shall see you all later. Hmm?” He’d been backing toward the door as he spoke. Brett stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Thank you, Stephen,” he said quietly. Stephen patted his hand and then walked out the door. Brett closed it behind him.
Anne’s heart was thundering in her chest. They were alone. They were here, they’d come for her, and they were alone.
Brett turned around and his face was taut with tightly contained fury. “What the devil were you thinking, Anne?”
Chapter Sixteen
June 19, 1812
If you are reading this, then I am dead. God, how utterly morbid. But the truth, nevertheless.
Let me start out by saying I’m sorry. I am sorry for all those times I shoved you back in the nursery and ran away. I am sorry for all those times you asked me to help you escape your tutor and I said no. I’m sorry for all those times the duchess dragged you off to London and I let her. I am sorry that we never shared secrets, or dreams, or hopes. I am sorry that I let you down as a brother. I want to leave you more than regrets, Freddy. So I am going to leave you with my two most precious possessions.
The first you know. It is Anne. She has no one, Freddy. Her mother, of course, but that’s all now. And she needs someone so desperately. She has so much life in her, Freddy, so much love to give. Please don’t let it be stomped out by death, and sorrow, and our mother. I have set things in motion, Freddy, to see that she is taken care of, and you must make sure that my plans are not in vain. She knows you, Freddy, and she likes you. She’ll trust you, I’m sure of it.
The second is someone you don’t know. I have met a fellow here who has become as close to me as a brother. His name is Brett Haversham. He is the best of men, Freddy, truly. He has no one either. So I am giving him to you. Be his friend, Freddy. And I am giving Anne to him. He is in love with her, you see. Brett is very much like Jerome, an Atlas with all the responsibility in the world resting on his shoulders. He will blame himself for my death. I can say that with absolute certainty. You must knock some sense into him, Freddy, and make him start living again. And you must see that he and Anne take care of one another.
I’m sorry to burden you, Freddy, with all this. The scapegrace brother who never had time for you. But I remember how sweet you were as a boy, how eager you were to please everyone. I hope that you remain thus, and will look kindly on my last requests.
I shall miss getting to see you become a man most of all, I think.
With brotherly love,
Bertie
* * * * *
Anne jumped up out of her chair and pointed at Brett accusingly. “What the devil am I doing? What the devil are you doing?”
Brett put his hands on his hips and glared at her. “Meaning what? I am not here about to accept another man’s proposal.”
Anne threw her arms in the air. “Oh no! Of course you wouldn’t accept his proposal! Because Brett Haversham loves no one, and no one is allowed to love Brett Haversham.”
“What does that mean?” Brett shouted. “I love you. Of course I love you. Do you think I would have done the things I’ve done if I didn’t love you? I already told you I love you.”
Freddy just sat there and stared. He’d never seen either one of them really angry before. And he wasn’t entirely sure what they were angry about now.
“The things you’ve done? Such as what? Made love to me? Made love to me with Freddy? You’ll have to be more specific. Because it seems to me we did those things before you reluctantly admitted that yes, you were in love with me, and then promptly looked as if you might cast up your accounts at the thought of marrying me.”
Well, Freddy did have to concede that she had a point. “She does make a good point, Brett.”
Brett turned his glare on Freddy, and so did Anne. She pointed at Freddy accusingly and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
“Oh no. Don’t you go taking my side in this affair, Your Grace.” She sneered the title at him. “Your mother insults me, accosts me in front of strangers, and I get a kiss on the cheek and a fare thee well? Where have you been for the last two days?”
“You wouldn’t see us for the last two days,” Brett ground out, “and I’d like to know why.”
Anne folded her arms across her chest belligerently. “That is none of your affair.”
Brett stomped across the room and grabbed Anne’s arm, spinning her to face him. “It damn well is our affair when it drives you into another man’s arms.”
“Ohhh,” Anne growled. “You had to throw that back in my face. You think just because I wasn’t some pristine little virgin sacrifice that I’ll toss up my skirts for any crippled soldier that comes along?”
Brett stumbled back as if he’d been slapped. “Is that how you see me?”
Anne promptly threw herself down on the sofa and burst into tears. “No! You’re right! I’m no good, can’t you see? What happened with the duchess will only happen again and again. I can’t stay with you. I can’t!” She fell over and buried her face in her arm on the sofa cushion and wailed.
Freddy slid off his chair and kneeled on the floor next to Anne. He smoothed her hair and then rubbed her back. “Anne, darling,” he said softly, “nothing could be further than the truth. You are the best thing to ever happen to us, you must know that.”
“Of course I know that,” she mumbled from the crook of her arm. “I am having histrionics because you abandoned me and I haven’t slept for two days. I am an idiot and I am being totally unreasonable.” She hiccupped and sat up, and Freddy smiled and offered her his handkerchief. She blew her nose and looked at him out of watery eyes. “Good Lord, Freddy, you look awful. What on earth have you been doing?”
Brett started to laugh. He laughed so hard he had to sit down. He fell onto the sofa next to Anne and yanked her into his arms, still laughing. Freddy couldn’t help but laugh with him. He sat on the floor and leaned his forehead in Anne’s lap and laughed at the absurdity of it all.
When he finally calmed down he looked up to see Anne smiling tentatively. “Have I missed the joke?”
Freddy shook his head and kissed her hand. “Oh Anne, I’ve spent the last two days in hell, and Brett had to face the devil and pull me out.”
“What?” Anne was adorable when she was confused.
Freddy closed his eyes and put her hand to his cheek, rubbing against it, turning it to kiss her palm. “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered.
Anne cupped his face and leaned down to kiss him gently. “Oh Freddy, even though I know it’s the right thing to do, I can’t leave you. I just can’t.”
Brett sighed next to them. “I believe it is time for some honesty.” He looked at Anne and Freddy. “And I shall go first. Anne, I have loved you almost since the first letter from you that Bertie read to me. I lived for your letters, Anne. I loved your wit, and your sense of humor, and your good nature, and your practicality, and your loyalty. I loved that you wrote a sonnet to your dead cat, and hated gardening, and embroidered a handkerchief for me. But you were Bertie’s. And after he died…I couldn’t, Anne.”
Anne was sitting there with a stunned look on her face. Brett fumbled in his jacket and pulled a well-worn piece of linen out. He kissed it, and then shook it out, and Freddy could see that it had Brett’s initials embroidered on it, with some ivy leaves and flowers. The handkerchief both he and Bertie had written about. Brett still carried it. Anne touched it with shaking fingers.
“I love you now, Anne, because you have helped me learn to live again. Because you made me remember those feelings, and so many more. There is a life in you that won’t be tamed, or knocked down, or worn out. I want to laugh with you, Anne, and love you for the rest of my life. And I believe Bertie would have wanted that for us.”
Anne had covered her mouth with her hand, and tears streamed from her eyes. Brett gently dabbed the tears away with the handkerchief she’d made for him so many years ago.
“Oh Brett,” she whispered as she clutched his wrist with her hand. “Yes, yes, darling, I love you too.”
“Why?” he whispered back. “I don’t understand why. I am more grateful than I can say, but I don’t know why you would love me.” His look was genuinely perplexed. He glanced down at Freddy. “Either of you. I have been a thoughtless, cruel idiot for years, and yet you both love me. Why?”
Anne looked down at Freddy and gave him a small, secret smile as she brushed a hand over his hair, and in that moment they shared something most profound. Yes, he loved Anne, and he knew she loved him,
but it was in loving this man that they truly became one. How could he explain that to Brett? It might take a lifetime.
Freddy took a deep breath and then he reached out for Brett’s hand. Without hesitation Brett gave it to him, lacing their fingers together. Freddy heard Anne gasp and then a little sob came out and she hugged Brett tightly.
“I will not argue that you have been an idiot,” Freddy told him with a smile. “But can you honestly not see what we see, Brett?”
Anne shook her head and pulled away from Brett, taking the handkerchief from him and wiping her eyes again. “No, he doesn’t, Freddy. And isn’t that part of his charm?”
“What?” Brett demanded a little desperately. “What do you see?”
“Oh Brett,” Anne told him, cupping his cheek for a moment. “You wear the problems of the world on your shoulders. You think of everyone before you think of yourself. You think you don’t need anyone, but the truth is you need us. No one has ever needed me like you, Brett.”
Freddy closed his eyes and nodded in relief. Yes, Anne understood. He opened his eyes to see Brett looking at him in astonishment. “She’s right, Brett. When I got the letter from Stephen telling me that you were arriving, terribly injured, and that you were Bertie’s best friend but had no family of your own, I thought, ‘And? What am I supposed to do?’ Jerome had only just died, weeks after Bertie, I suddenly found myself in a position I’d never imagined would be mine, and now someone was foisting this injured stranger on me. I had nothing to do, and everything to do, and I didn’t know where to start. So I went to Dover.” Freddy rolled to his feet and took a seat on Anne’s other side, turning to face them both. “I got there, and there you were. Out of your head with fever, ranting and raving about Bertie. And suddenly the reality of Bertie’s death was too much. But you needed me, Brett. No one had ever needed me before, and they didn’t then either. I’d pretty much been told the estates and title would take care of themselves and not to worry my pretty head about them, and I was feeling useless and immature, and generally guilty that I’d become duke. But suddenly I had someone to take care of. You made me feel useful and…” He sighed. “You made me grow up, Brett.” He looked at Brett, willing him to understand. “And even as you’ve taken care of me over the years, you’ve never stopped needing me. We have taken care of each other, and I cannot imagine my life without you.”
Brothers In Arms 05: Retreat From Love Page 31
