The Townsbridge's Series

by Sophie Barnes

  Not knowing what to do, Bethany let her mother tend to her in silence. She’d felt Charles’s reluctance when he’d set her down in her bedchamber. For a second after, he’d lingered, as if there were something he wished to say but wasn’t sure how to express. In the end, he’d simply wished her well and departed, his stiff stride and clenched fists suggesting that a conflict similar to hers was playing itself out in his head.

  “If only you were marrying Mr. Townsbridge instead,” her mother said while she helped Bethany undress. “He’s far more attentive than Robert and seems to genuinely care for you.” A pause followed and then her mother added, “He’s also heir to a viscountcy. I’ve inquired a little about his circumstances and have learned that he’s independently wealthy and—”

  “What you’re suggesting would destroy Robert’s reputation and ours. He would forever be known as the man who was thrown over by his fiancée and betrayed by his friend. His only recourse would be to challenge Mr. Townsbridge to a duel and…” Bethany shook her head, the idea of either man possibly dying because of her too painful to even consider.

  “I’m sorry,” her mother murmured as she helped her put on a dressing gown.

  Bethany sighed and stepped closer to the fire, warming herself as she waited for the footmen to arrive with the tub. “It’s not your fault. You encouraged me to do what you believed was best for me at the time, and I agreed with you. It’s just incredibly bad luck that I did not meet Mr. Townsbridge sooner.” She forced a smile and glanced at her mother. “But I am hardly the first to marry for the sake of convenience.”

  “True. But I never would have supported the idea if I’d known how miserable you’d be.”

  “I have no intention of being miserable, Mama. One way on the other, I will find the means to be happy. Of that I can assure you.”

  “You look like a wreck,” James said when he happened to find Charles enjoying a moment of solitude and a much needed drink in the upstairs gallery. After changing his clothes, he’d endured dinner, conscious of Bethany’s absence from the table. Her mother had, without any prompting on his part, mentioned that she slept and that she showed no signs of ailment at present. She’d thanked him again for his help in finding her and bringing her back to Langdon House, for which both she and her husband were incredibly grateful.

  Sitting on the floor with his legs stretched out before him, Charles looked up at James, snorted, and took another sip from the bottle of brandy he’d brought along with him. “What can I say? I’m having a bad year.” The brandy felt good as it heated his insides, easing the tension he’d been feeling for most of the day.

  James frowned. “It’s not like you to get foxed. Especially not while you’re a guest under someone else’s roof.” He paused for a second, then asked, “What’s going on, Charles?”

  Charles grinned and let his head fall back against the wall. “It’s a mess, James. The biggest bloody mess I’ve ever encountered, and I don’t know how the hell to get out of it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Taking another swig from the bottle, Charles contemplated confiding in his brother, but changed his mind quickly. “It’s not your burden to bear.”

  James took a deep breath. “You’re making no sense, which shouldn’t really surprise me. Was that bottle full when you came up here?”

  “I don’t remember.” Charles tilted his head. He could hear footsteps approaching. Christ. All he wanted was some time to himself.

  “There you are,” Athena said. Her pace slowed as she took in the scene. “Lady Pratchard asked me to tell you that her daughter has awoken from her nap and appears to be feeling much better. She says there’s no sign of fever and that she expects her to be completely recovered by tomorrow.”

  Relief flooded Charles’s veins, and he expelled a deep breath. “Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate that.”

  Athena’s brow puckered. She glanced at James and then back at Charles. “Why are you sitting on the floor?” She drew closer. “Are you in your cups?”

  “Barely,” Charles murmured. He set the bottle to his lips once more and took a long sip.

  Athena gasped. “You are!” And then her expression twisted with what could only be described as a mixture of sadness and compassion. It tore at Charles’s gut and only made him all the more eager to drink himself into oblivion. “You have to tell her how you feel.”

  Charles sputtered, almost choking on his drink. “What?” The word was violently spoken and caused his sister to flinch.

  “How he feels about whom?’ James prompted.

  Athena sighed. “About Lady Bethany.”

  “Athena,” Charles warned, his voice slightly strangled by fear and by the result of too much brandy.

  She seemed not to hear him as she turned to James. “Charles is in love with her. Why no one else seems to realize this is completely beyond me.”

  Gaping at his sister, Charles fleetingly wondered if he ought to strangle her right then and there, or smother her with a pillow later. “You’re wrong,” he muttered, sounding not the least bit convincing.

  “Good God,” James said. “Does Robert know?”

  “No he bloody well doesn’t, and neither of you is going to tell him or anyone else for that matter.” Somehow, Charles managed to hoist himself upright. He leaned back against the wall for a second to steady himself. “You will not interfere. Do you hear me?”

  “But,” Athena began, “you cannot—”

  “I will never forgive you if you do.” Charles glared at her, willing her to understand the consequences if she did something stupid – like mention this conversation to someone else.

  “Does she feel the same about you?” James asked.

  Charles raked his fingers through his hair and glanced up at the ceiling. His soul felt heavy, and his heart crushed beneath its weight. “I believe so.”

  “Then you’ll both be unhappy,” Athena said, passionately stating the obvious. “Surely there must be a way to prevent that. Surely the three of us can come up with some idea together.”

  He loved how much she cared about him. Too bad it wouldn’t help. “Not without hurting Robert, and that is not something that I am prepared to do. He’s my friend. We’ve known each other forever. So I would rather be miserable for the rest of my days than steal his fiancée from him.”

  “But what about Lady Bethany?” James asked. “If she loves you instead of Robert, won’t she be miserable too?”

  “Most likely. At least in the beginning.” He regretted it had to be this way, but he could see no honorable way out. “Time will help her adjust, and once she has children to dote on, doing so will be easier.”

  “It’s not fair,” Athena pronounced.

  “Robert’s a good man. He may not be right for Lady Bethany, but he is the one she has chosen to marry, and I must accept that. So must she.”

  James and Athena both stared at him with perplexed expressions. “You shouldn’t have to,” James said. “You deserve to be happy, Charles.”

  “Perhaps, but not at Robert’s expense.” He pushed himself away from the wall and handed the bottle of brandy to James. “Please make my excuses downstairs.”

  “Where are you going?” Athena asked.

  “To bed.” With any luck he’d sleep for the next ten years and have no memory of Bethany or Robert when he finally woke. A smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. Now there was something to hope for.

  Bethany’s wedding day arrived before she was ready. During the days leading up to it, Robert had taken the time to walk with her in the garden. He’d even joined her for a game of chess one afternoon and had asked the cook to prepare duck for dinner when he’d learned that it was her favorite meal. He was starting to make an effort, for which she was grateful, but no matter how much she wished it, there was still no spark between them. Worst of all, she sensed that in spite of the increased attention he gave her, he was bored in her company and would rather be somewhere else.

&nbs
p; Stepping down from the carriage in front of the church, Bethany gazed up at the bright blue sky. Birds were chirping in a nearby tree, and the sun was casting a vibrant glow on the world. Everything was peaceful, save for the frantic beating of her heart.

  “You’re certain?” her father asked her.

  She nodded. “Yes.” The banns had been cried and everyone was waiting. There could be no turning back. So she placed her hand on her father’s arm and allowed him to guide her up the steps and into the church. It was packed to the brim, all heads turning to face her the moment she stepped through the door. Swallowing, she took a step forward and hoped that no one would see how unhappy she was.

  Robert stood at the end of the aisle. He was waiting with Charles by his side, and for a fleeting moment, Bethany allowed herself to imagine that this day was different and that she was walking toward the man she loved, about to marry him instead of his friend. Feeling her eyes begin to sting in response to the intensity with which Charles watched her, she fixed her gaze on a point just above Robert’s head and told herself not to worry. She was doing the right thing after all. She was being honorable and loyal, even though it felt like a curse at the moment.

  “Dearly beloved,” the priest began, “we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”

  Bethany inhaled deeply while he continued. She was conscious of Robert’s presence at her side, of her clammy hands holding the bouquet of flowers her mother had given her earlier, and of the hushed silence filling the building as the priest spoke.

  “First,” the priest said, “it was ordained for the procreation of children, to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of his holy name.”

  A shudder raked Bethany’s spine. Tonight would be her wedding night. She didn’t know why she’d not yet considered this, but she did so now with a sudden rush of dread.

  “Secondly,” the priest continued, “it was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication; that such persons as have not the gift of continency might marry, and keep themselves undefiled members of Christ's body.”

  Dear God. She would not survive this.

  “Thirdly, it was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity. Into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”

  The priest paused and Bethany closed her eyes. He would continue momentarily and move on to the point where she pledged herself to Robert forever.

  A rustling sound informed her that he’d turned a page in his book of common prayer and was ready to proceed. She tightened her grip on the flowers. “I re—”

  “Stop!”

  The command sliced through the air, causing Bethany to turn with surprise. Athena had risen, her expression one of keen determination. Bethany sucked in a breath. Was this really happening? Had Charles’s sister just demanded a halt to the ceremony? She glanced at Robert, whose glower appeared to be cut from granite.

  Charles took a step forward, toward his sister. “Don’t.” The word echoed through the air until it was overpowered by whispers as those present stared at the ensuing spectacle in disbelief.

  “Sit down,” Lord Roxley hissed at his daughter.

  Athena didn’t budge. “No,” she said instead, as courageous as the goddess for whom she was named. “Not when an irreversible mistake is about to be made.”

  “Athena,” Charles practically snarled.

  Heedless of him, Athena gave her attention to Robert. “Bethany and Charles are in love with each other, but they are prepared to sacrifice their happiness for you, for the—” She squealed as her father grabbed her roughly by the arm and proceeded to lead her out of the church to the sound of murmured responses of outrage.

  Bethany’s body began to tremble. Athena had done what she and Charles had refused to do. She’d brought scandal crashing down over their heads. Worse, she’d shamed Robert in front of his family and friends. Bethany turned to him, unsure of what to say, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was facing Charles.

  “Is this true?” Robert asked him under his breath.

  Charles didn’t respond, but the truth was revealed in his eyes. And then, without warning, Robert drew back his arm and pushed it forward, punching Charles squarely in the face.

  Bethany yelped and the priest protested profusely, but Robert merely straightened his jacket, allowed her one final look of disdain, and walked away. He left her, ignoring the guests who called to him for answers, ignoring his parents who begged him to stay, and simply disappearing out into the calm outdoors.

  The noise rose as people demanded to know what was going on. Ignoring it, Bethany gave her attention to Charles. Blood stained the handkerchief he held to his nose. His eyes met hers, so serious and apologetic and yet so incredibly warm. “I don't know what to say. That wasn't supposed to happen.” He lowered the handkerchief, and she saw that a bruise was rapidly forming right next to his nose. “I'm sorry.”

  She nodded, forcing away the lump in her throat. “Robert didn't deserve this.”

  “Neither do we.” He glanced out at the crowd, and she knew right away what he must be thinking: news of this would reach London by nightfall. Tomorrow morning it would be in the papers.

  “Bethany.” Her mother's voice drew her attention away from Charles for a second. “We have to go pack. Remaining at Langdon House isn't an option.”

  “Of course.” She glanced back at Charles. “As awful as it may seem right now, this may be for the best. Robert and I were ill suited for each other. He now has a chance to make a better match.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Bethany,” her mother pressed, “we really must be going.”

  Bethany held Charles's gaze. She wasn't sure what she expected from him at the moment, but some assurance that his sister had not just wrecked all their lives for no reason would be nice.

  He shifted his gaze away from hers and addressed her mother. “If you and your husband permit, I would like to call on your daughter at your convenience.”

  “Of course.” Lady Pratchard said. “We will return to London from here and will likely remain there for at least two weeks while we prepare to leave for our estate near Oxford.”

  “In that case, I expect to see you both again within a day or two.” His serious gaze and absent smile reminded Bethany of the gravity of the situation. While she'd just been left at the altar by a man she'd known for only three months, Charles had most likely lost a lifelong friend.

  No words could ever express how much that pained her on his behalf, so she simply nodded and accompanied her mother out of the building.

  Langdon House was in chaos when they arrived. Carriages came and went, either bringing guests from the church or conveying them to their own homes. Footmen rushed about offering assistance with the luggage while Lord and Lady Darlington stood near the door, expressing apologies. Robert himself was nowhere in sight.

  “I'm so sorry,” Bethany told the Darlingtons. “Is there anything at all we can do to help?”

  The marchioness gave a swift shake of her head. “No.” She managed a faint smile. “As wrong as it was for Miss Athena to interfere, I believe she did you and Robert a favor. Especially if what she said is true.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Bethany waited while Lady Darlington and her husband exchanged a few words with her parents and then continued upstairs to her room in order to pack. She did so quickly and half an hour later, she and her parents left Langdon House, certain that they would never return.

  “I share the marchioness's sentiment,” Lord Pratchard said as the carriage rolled onto the main road. “My only regret is that things weren't ended between you and Robert sooner. I can only blame myself for that.”r />
  “I disagree with you, Papa.”

  “At least Miss Athena had the sense to put a stop to it, though I do believe she will pay dearly for her spontaneity at home. Her parents looked furious.”

  “So did her brother,” Bethany muttered. Now that the tumult had passed, she was able to reflect more clearly on what had happened and on how it had happened. “He distinctly asked her not to say anything.”

  “And you worry this reflects a lack of investment in you on his part?” Her mother smiled with reassurance. “I would have liked him less, I think, if he hadn't attempted to prevent his sister from ruining his friend's wedding.”

  “Robert will never forgive either of us.”

  “No. But if things work out as I expect them to, you will gain a husband who cares about you instead of one who doesn't.”

  As comforting as that thought was, Bethany still had her doubts. She would most likely become a pariah, which meant that if Charles wished to court her himself, he would have to risk additional scandal in order to do so.

  Chapter 5

  After learning that Robert had taken a horse and ridden north, Charles went in pursuit. He found him in the taproom of an inn three hours later, no less angry than he'd been when he left the church.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” he snarled when Charles joined him at the table where he was sitting.

  “Feelings cannot be so easily controlled,” Charles ventured. “I never meant to fall in love with her. If anything, I did all I could to prevent it, but you kept pushing us together and—”

  “Oh! So it's my fault is it?” The hurt in Robert’s eyes shone brighter than the rage. He lowered his gaze to the table and gripped his tankard of beer. “You know about Charlotte.”

  “Yes, but Athena doesn't.”

  Robert's gaze shot back to his. “Is that supposed to be an excuse?”