The Brynthwaite Boys: Season Two - Part One

by Farmer, Merry

  “No,” Marshall answered in stern, clipped tones, glaring at Winnie. “I’m not the idiot here.”

  “Ah.” Jason turned back to Winnie with a look of understanding. “You do realize that young women who behave this way generally meet an unhappy end, don’t you?”

  Marshall almost laughed at the matter-of-fact way Jason addressed the red-faced Winnie.

  “Besides,” Jason went on, “Dr. Pycroft is singularly devoted to his wife on every level. Any attempt on your part to seduce him would not only be disgraceful, it would be cruel. Now go put your clothes back on and get out. We’ll wait here until you do.”

  Winnie gaped at Jason for a few seconds before yelping, then turning to run out of the room.

  Marshall let out a long breath of relief and rubbed his hands over his face. “Thank God you came along when you did,” he said. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

  Jason looked at him as though he’d grown another head. “You weren’t seriously tempted by that chit, were you?”

  Marshall felt the heat flooding his face. All he could manage in reply was a guilty look.

  But Jason snorted and dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “You’re not the infidelity type, Marshall.”

  “Not under normal circumstances,” Marshall admitted. “But things between Alex and I have been…difficult.”

  Jason continued to look at him as though he were being deliberately obtuse. “Things between you and Clara were difficult for twelve years.”

  “They were,” Marshall admitted.

  “You and she had sex, what, half a dozen times in the five years after Molly was born?”

  Marshall suddenly regretted being as open with his friend as he’d been.

  “No.” Jason shook his head, marching out to the hall. “If you didn’t cheat on Clara once in twelve years, especially those last five years—and I refuse to believe you didn’t have the opportunity to do so—”

  “Not like this.” Marshall nodded toward the kitchen, where Winnie had disappeared.

  “—then you’re not going to go dipping your wick in someone else’s well while married to a woman you adore.”

  “She doesn’t adore me,” Marshall snapped, feeling as petulant as a toddler who needed a nap, but unable to keep the truth of his hurt feelings inside for a moment longer.

  “You’ve only just married her,” Jason told him, still incredulous. “Give the poor woman a chance. She’s attempting to cope with a great deal at the moment. She’ll come around once she’s had a good pout and gotten used to things as they are.”

  Marshall shook his head at his friend, wishing Jason were right. Even if his view of the situation was far more dismissive of Alex’s feelings on the situation than he was comfortable with.

  He didn’t have time to say more. Winnie slunk back into the room, fully dressed and with her coat on, hugging herself. She looked sufficiently repentant, as far as Marshall was concerned.

  “We won’t say another word about this,” he told her. “And you most certainly will not breathe a word of it to Mrs. Pycroft.” He emphasized the last to words to make sure Winnie knew how he felt about Alex. “When I’m gone, you will move heaven and earth to make life easier for my wife. You will continue to clean and do laundry for her whenever your duties at the hospital allow you to get away. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Dr. Pycroft,” Winnie mumbled.

  Jason had stepped into the hallway and held the door open for her. As soon as Winnie rushed out and hurried up the street toward the hospital, Jason shook his head. “She’ll continue to be a problem until you send her away.”

  “She doesn’t have anywhere else to go,” Marshall sighed, picking up his suitcase and leaving the house with Jason.

  “Then good luck prying her off your cock next time she pulls a trick like this,” Jason said, shaking his head.

  Jason

  Marshall was like a brother to Jason, but the man was clearly in over his head. They walked together in silence toward the train station. It was frustrating to see his friend laid so low—specifically because he wasn’t being laid at all, if what Alexandra had told Flossie was correct. The trouble was that Marshall was an unequivocally good man, and in Jason’s experience, good men seldom put their foot down when they should.

  “Where’s Flossie?” Marshall asked as they approached the station. “I’d’ve thought she’d be here to see you off.”

  Jason’s nerves bristled at the reminder that he was about to be without his anchor. “She had a few things to take care of at the hotel,” he said. “She’ll be here to see us off shortly.”

  At least, he hoped and prayed she would. A tiny, suspicious part of him—much smaller than the gigantic, irrational part of him—worried that Flossie would wash her hands of the problems he had brought to her life, that she’d said her goodbyes, and that she wouldn’t care one way or another if he was in Brynthwaite or London or Siam.

  “Good God, man,” Marshall huffed, a wry grin twisting his mouth. “You just finished lecturing me on marriage and fidelity and giving a woman time, and suddenly you look like you’re afraid Flossie will leave you. That or you need to take a shit.”

  The off-color comment was enough to shake Jason out of his moroseness. “I should probably visit the station’s facilities before boarding the train,” he said as they mounted the steps that would take them to the platform.

  The train headed south hadn’t arrived yet. Reggie had brought his trunk over from the hotel earlier, and it appeared from the mountain of trunks, suitcases, and hat boxes beside it that Lady E had sent her things down from Huntingdon Hall as well. All Jason could do now was wait and pace.

  “The train’s delayed by twenty minutes,” Marshall reported after checking his suitcase with the porter. “Apparently, there’s some sort of signaling problem down the line.”

  Jason hummed in acknowledgement and continued his pacing. Was it a sign? Should he call off his trip, spend Christmas with Flossie, and travel down at the very last minute for the hearing? His heart answered an unequivocal “yes,” but his mind immediately began listing the reasons he needed to at least attempt to spent time in London society. He could help Marshall’s case by socializing with the likes of Lord Merion and his father. He might also be able to convince that ass Bligh to drop his ridiculous assault case. And, as Lady E constantly reminded him, the more he interacted with her crowd, the more likely he was to make business connections that could expand his hotel empire beyond his wildest dreams. On top of that, the possibility of schmoozing his way into a title was still there.

  “It amazes me that you worry about anything,” Marshall interrupted the spiral of Jason’s thoughts.

  “Why?” Jason stopped pacing and focused on his friend. “There’s no shortage of things to worry about.”

  Marshall scoffed at him. “You’re the wealthiest man I know. You probably have more money than Lord Thornhill and Lord Waltham combined. You might as well be married to Flossie. The two of you are expecting and Flossie is actually happy about it.”

  Jason felt a jolt of sympathy for Marshall. The other thing Flossie had shared with him was that Alexandra was embarrassed to have ended up with child so quickly after marrying, and that she dreaded what the people of her former life would think of her. Not that Alexandra had had any contact with those people, if what Flossie said was true.

  “Those things are all wonderful,” Jason admitted. “It’s all the other flies in the ointment that keep me awake at night.”

  “Lady E?” Marshall asked.

  Jason puffed out a breath and ran a hand over his face. “There are days when I don’t know what I was thinking by agreeing to her mad marriage plan.” He let his hand drop to his side with a shrug. “And there are days when I force myself to keep my eyes on the prize, no matter what. Her influence will get your girls back.”

  “Damn her influence if it makes you miserable,” Marshall said.

  Jason shook his head. “You w
ouldn’t say that if, a month from now, you lost the case and had to live the rest of your life without those girls.”

  Marshall frowned, nodding in what looked like grudging agreement. “But you shouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life shackled to a harpy, when what you want is to be with Flossie, for my sake.”

  “It’s not just for your sake,” Jason said. “There are any number of benefits I could gain from this arrangement.”

  “Such as?”

  Jason opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Honestly, he didn’t really care about a title and his business was running along as smoothly as he could hope for. For the hundredth time, he found himself contemplating ways to break the engagement once Marshall had his girls back.

  In spite of his silence, Marshall grinned and said, “I thought so.”

  Their conversation went no further, though. In a clatter of heels and a swirl of expensive fabric, Lady E and Polly flounced onto the platform.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Lady E demanded, marching toward Jason with what was quickly becoming a standard-issue glare of disapproval.

  “Would you care to be more specific, my dear?” Jason asked with a sharp, lop-sided grin. He was in an odd mood and, for a change, felt comparable to whatever nonsense Lady E was about to throw at him.

  Lady E came to a stop in front of him, planting her fists on her bustled hips. “It has just come to my attention that you are being sued for assault.”

  Jason rolled his eyes, not caring how impertinent Lady E would think the gesture was. “Bligh is an ass who deserved far worse than he got.”

  He didn’t exactly expect his comment to satisfy Lady E, but neither did he expect her to turn dark puce and clench her fists at her sides the way she did. “You assaulted a man?” she seethed. “Badly enough for him to sue you?”

  A deep weariness settled into Jason’s bones. “Bligh is a barrister. He has litigation on the brain. He more or less said as much at the scene of the incident. The very fact that he brought the suit through a London court instead of a Cumbrian one shows how frivolous the whole thing is. I expect the judge will throw it out, or tell him to file the suit in Cumbria.”

  “You struck a man,” Lady E went on as though she hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “Once word of this gets around London, I’ll be even more of a laughing stock than I already am.”

  Jason shook his head and blinked at her. “I beg your pardon. In what way are you any sort of a laughing stock?”

  Lady E glared at him with eyes like spears. “Some of my friends have already written to me, warning me of your reputation with the ladies.”

  Heat rushed to Jason’s face, but not out of embarrassment. If people were still talking about his escapades of years past, there was a strong chance he was about to walk into a situation where he would be expected to pick up where he’d left off. Visions of being approached by the same women who had dragged him to the darkest place of his life swarmed in on him, leaving his breath short and his palms sweaty.

  Lady E didn’t notice any of it. “Now there’s even a rumor that you have a bit on the side here in Brynthwaite,” she raged on.

  “Begging your pardon, Lady Elisabeth, but everyone in Brynthwaite knows that you are Jason’s bit on the side up here,” Marshall said.

  Jason immediately glared at him for worsening the situation.

  “Is that what everyone in Brynthwaite thinks?” Lady E demanded, her voice strained and squeaky. She didn’t wait for an answer, but instead pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I’ve had enough of this. Our deal was that you would marry me and give me the legitimacy of a wedding band and the social clout I need to take London by storm. You, sir, are failing at your end of the bargain by leaps and bounds.”

  Jason stared at her, incredulous. “You knew about Flossie long before you proposed this ridiculous deal.”

  Lady E tilted her chin up, looking wounded by the comment. She was prevented from any sort of reply as the southbound train rolled into the station, its whistles blaring. The station was suddenly busy with porters and conductors rushing to and from the train, helping passengers to disembark, shifting baggage out of and onto the end car, and salutations among the sudden crush of people.

  “Come on,” Lady E said, picking up her skirts. “We’ll board the train now.”

  “I’m not boarding until Flossie comes to say goodbye to me,” Jason insisted.

  If looks could have killed, Jason would have been struck down on the spot by the fire in Lady E’s eyes. “I have just explained to you how villainous your actions are and how adversely they are affecting me, and you add insult to that by insisting you stand here and wait for your….” For the second time that day, her words sputtered out before she could call Flossie a whore.

  Jaw clenched, internal panic growing, Jason turned to Lady E and said, “You are free to board the train now if you wish. You are free to ride in a different compartment, if that makes you happy. I will wait for Flossie.”

  “You will board right now with me,” Lady E threw back at him, “or I will personally see to it that Lord Merion withdraws his support for your friend and his daughters. I will move heaven and earth to see that Dr. Pycroft is declared an unfit father, that he ruthlessly married my cousin and brought her low for nefarious reasons, and that his name is dragged through the mud.”

  The panic in Jason grew so acute that for a moment he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t tell whether his heart was beating so fast it would tear its way out of his chest or if it had stopped altogether. Prickles raced along his skin, heat flooded him, and the real fear that he might swoon—right there, on a crowded train platform, in front of everyone—overcame him.

  The only thing that brought him back was Marshall’s hand on his arm. “Jason?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

  Jason glanced to his friend. It didn’t matter what tortures Lady E devised for him, he couldn’t let Marshall down. He owed his friend too much. In spite of the tension that squeezed his throat shut, making speech impossible, in spite of the blood rushing through him, in spite of every nerve being on fire, he managed to walk forward. Without looking at Lady E or Polly or Marshall, he marched straight to the first-class car, found the compartment that matched their tickets, stepped through the open door, and sat heavily on the rear-facing seat, by the window.

  “There,” Lady E said with a smug grin as she floated in and sat at the opposite end of the compartment from him. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She shared a gloating smile with Polly. “And when we reach London, you will do whatever it takes to dismiss the lawsuit Mr. Bligh has brought against you, and you will behave like a perfect, doting, lovesick gentleman.” She had the gall to add a simpering giggle to the end of her ultimatum.

  Jason didn’t acknowledge her. He stared out the window, not really seeing anything going on outside of himself. As stoic as he was sure he’d gone on the outside, something within him was screaming at the top of its lungs. The horrible, clawing, sinking sensation that had accompanied him through the worst of times in London threatened to swallow him whole and leave him utterly senseless. And he was going back there, physically and mentally. By the end of the day, he would be in London, adrift, lost, hopeless, without Flossie. He wouldn’t survive.

  “Jason.” Marshall called his name, but it felt as though his friend were a thousand miles away. “Jason?” His voice sounded as though it were at the end of a long tube. “Come on, man, you’re worrying me. Jason?”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Lady E asked, her voice sounding as though it were a distant echo from a faraway continent.

  “Jason!”

  This time, Marshall shouted, and Jason jolted out of his stupor. He sucked in a hard breath, realizing he hadn’t been breathing. He jerked to the side, where Marshall sat next to him, eyes wide, terror surrounding him.

  “There’s Flossie,” Marshall said, pointing out the window.

  As fast as if someone had put a sprin
g under his chair, Jason leapt up and ran out the compartment door. Flossie was just mounting the steps to the platform, Lawrence at her side. Jason all but ignored him as he rushed to Flossie and pulled her into his arms.

  “I can’t do it,” he said in a ragged whisper against her ear. “I can’t go back there. I won’t survive. I can’t do it.”

  “Shh.” Flossie hugged him, rubbing his back. “Yes, you can,” she said, her voice calm and steady. “You can do this. For Marshall and for those girls. You can do this.”

  He inched back so that he could look at her and shook his head. “You don’t understand. I can’t. Everything Lady E just said, the people who are waiting down there for me. They’re like vultures, Flossie. They’ll sense how weak I am. They’ll tear me to shreds.”

  “No, they won’t,” Flossie assured him. Her voice was as calm and solid as the rocks jutting out to the sea that could withstand any storm. “You’re a strong man, Jason Throckmorton. You raised yourself up from nothing and built an empire. You don’t need their games or their flattery. You are a pillar unto yourself.”

  “But I’m not,” Jason sobbed, only vaguely aware that he was utterly unmanning himself while onlookers stared. “I’m nothing without you. I’ll fall apart. I can’t do this.”

  “You can,” Flossie assured him once again. She rested her hand on his chest. “Just breathe for a moment.”

  Jason instantly did as she ordered. He breathed in and out, attempting to slow down his racing heart. He began to feel like an utter fool—a certain sign his panic was easing. “Flossie,” he began in an apologetic tone.

  She pressed a fingertip to his lips and shook her head. “Just breathe.” As he did what she said, she reached into her pockets as if searching for something. When she didn’t find anything, she unpinned the watch brooch from her bodice and pressed it into his hand. It was warm from her breast and clicked like a heartbeat. “Take this with you,” she said. “Hold it whenever you miss me, whenever the panic starts to overcome you. I have your heart with me—” She touched a hand to the lump under her bodice that had to be the pendant he’d given her. “—and you have my heart with you.” She closed his hand around her brooch.