Two of a Kind

by Sasha Cottman

  Having held her in his arms and for a brief, precious moment known the heat of her passion, James despaired at what now lay ahead for Leah.

  She didn’t deserve that fate.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I am so jealous. I am green with envy and am not ashamed to admit it,” said James.

  Timothy Walters picked up a blob of green paint with his brush and flicked it in James’s direction. It fell short and landed with a splat to join the dozens of other paint spots which already dotted the dark wooden floor.

  The attic at the top of the Walters’s family town house in Bond Street, where the ‘two Tims’ worked wasn’t overly large, but it was full of light. Timothy Walters’ father had made his vast fortune in trade with the newly minted United States of America and had allowed his son to pursue his painting as a full-time career.

  In addition to the two large easels at which the two Tim’s worked, there was a small table where James sketched during his regular visits. The room was cramped but to James it was heaven. A private place in which to sketch, dream, and paint.

  “When do you leave for Derbyshire?” he asked.

  “Tomorrow. We have some final packing to do, and then we shall be heading off,” replied Smith with a smile.

  Walters added another daub of paint to his canvas and kept working. He didn’t seem as happy about the impending journey north as much as his companion was. James looked at Smith, who shrugged.

  “My friend here thinks himself in love. And from the miserable look on his face, I would say that the best place he could be right now is as far away from London and the young lady in question as possible.”

  “I expect you are right. She won’t see me, so staying in London is torture,” said Walters.

  James frowned at the sad look on Walters’ face. It was the same hopeless one that had stared back at him in the mirror earlier that morning.

  “You really should come with us. Steal away from your parents and run off to Derbyshire. We all know you have the talent, James; you just need to be able to complete some paintings which you could then sell,” offered Smith.

  James snorted. The chances of his father allowing, let alone funding him to wander off to the Marchington Woodlands in order to paint, were somewhere between little and none.

  “The position I currently hold at my uncle’s shipping business is about as far as my father will allow me to stray from the path that he has chosen for me,” he replied.

  Smith dropped onto the chair opposite James at the table. “You need to speak to his grace. Tell him that this is the passion you want in your life. I never thought my father would agree, but he did.”

  James wasn’t going to mention to his friend that having a father who was a well- known and successful musician had helped more than a little in that decision.

  “When your father is the Bishop of London, there are certain expectations that society and family place upon you. It is expected of me that I shall follow in my father’s footsteps. The way my life is panning out, my painting will be nothing more than a pastime,” he replied.

  Walters set down his paintbrush and turned to James. He held his hands softly together, almost as if he were saying a prayer. “Don’t give up on your dreams. You never know—they might come true. I am still holding out for my love to realize that she and I are destined. This time apart from one another might be just what we need to bring her to her senses.”

  Smith gave his friend a dejected look. “Yes, but don’t forget some dreams are that far out of our reach that we really should let them go. Not all dreams become reality.”

  “Who is the lady in question?” asked James.

  “No one you know,” replied Smith.

  James got to his feet and wandered over to where Walters was standing at his easel.

  “How did you go with getting Francis Saunders to ask the Prince Regent about our paintings?” asked Walters.

  James shook his head. “Not good. One minute, Francis was keen to show him your work; the next thing, he decided he wasn’t. I haven’t been able to ask him why, but I shall have a word when I get a moment.”

  Francis had a strong personal connection with the prince and had initially offered to show the future king some of his friends’ work. The Prince Regent was overseeing major renovations to the pavilion at Brighton and had spent a great deal of money acquiring artworks. James had hoped that through Francis, his friends may have been able to sell some of their pieces. But in the past week or so, he had sensed a distinct cooling in Francis’s interest in putting their work in front of Prince George.

  “It would be great for our careers if we could get some of our work displayed in the royal pavilion. It would certainly help to secure other patrons.”

  James considered the painting which Walters was working on. The subject was a wealthy looking gentleman. James tried not to screw up his nose.

  Walters gave him a sideways glance. “Not the most exciting thing I have ever painted, grant you, but it pays good money. And my father does like to see me doing work for patrons in town. You might want to consider picking up some portrait commissions.”

  James shook his head. “There is no light or drama in painting people. I want to create major landscape pieces, ones that capture the imagination and have folk thinking they are standing seeing the real thing. No offence, Walters, but if I reach the point where I am painting portraits of ruddy-faced bankers and merchants, I may as well give up. I would rather walk away from my art than paint simply to pay the bills.”

  Walters dabbed his brush into the paint once more and leaned in close to the canvas.

  “Someday, James, you may well eat those words.”

  Chapter Twelve

  James had done his best to avoid Guy over the past few days, but the betrothal party loomed large. As best man, there was no chance of him being able to escape attending. The wedding preparations were moving ahead whether he liked it or not.

  If it had just been himself attending the party this evening, he would have wished the betrothed couple all the happiness for their future, stayed for the speeches, and then left. But since Claire was one of Leah’s friends, the whole Radley family had been invited. Even Maggie had removed herself from her usual place by the sitting room window and made the effort to attend.

  “I hear everybody who is anybody is coming tonight. The Shepherds have gone all out,” said Mary.

  “Rumor has it that Guy will be pushing Tobias Shepherd to find him a nice safe seat as soon as he and Leah are married,” replied Hugh.

  “I expect once everyone sees Leah’s gown, all talk of politics will cease. It is stunning. The fabric was the most expensive that the modiste had ever used. And you should see the material for her wedding gown. Why, it looks like something royalty would wear. Leah’s parents and Guy are spending an eye-watering amount of money on the wedding,” said Claire.

  Her mother frowned at her. Money was a crass subject and should not be discussed in company.

  “Is it true Guy has commissioned a special china dinner service for them? I heard it has over one hundred and twenty pieces and that is just for day-to-day use,” said Maggie.

  Claire nodded; her eyes wide.

  The Radley family town carriage was a tight squeeze with Hugh, Mary, Claire, Maggie, and James all on board. They hadn’t even arrived, and James was already in a foul mood. He grumbled as his father nudged him along on the seat.

  “Come on then, lad, shift up and make some room,” said Hugh.

  James moved an inch or two over on the leather bench seat, earning him a hard stare from Hugh. Reluctantly, and with a decided lack of good grace, he moved again. He held his arms tight against himself and scowled at anyone who dared to look at him.

  “I hope you are not going to be that much of a misery guts for the entire evening, James. This is supposed to be a happy occasion. Your best friend is getting married,” said Mary.

  “Yes, well since we are already going to the betrothal ball, do
you think we could talk about something else on the way?” he replied.

  He should have apologized to his mother over his behavior, but he couldn’t shake himself out of his dour frame of mind.

  “What is the matter with you, James? You have been in a black mood all week,” observed Claire.

  He knew full well why he was so out of sorts, but it wasn’t exactly something he could share with them. His growing feelings for Leah were something he had to keep to himself. “I’m sorry. I am just a little at sea at the moment. The two Tims left for Derbyshire on Friday and I won’t be seeing them for another month.”

  “Well then, with your friends out of town, now might be the right time to stop moping about the house and make some firm decisions about your future,” said Hugh.

  A frustrated James turned and looked out the carriage window. He had many things he would like to say in response to his father’s words but decided that silence was the wisest option. That and a good half dozen glasses of something strong.

  “Oh, thank God,” he muttered.

  Caroline and Francis were standing on the footpath out the front of the Shepherd family home in Duke Street as James stepped down from the family carriage. He could have cried at the sight. These were the two people he could share an evening with and not get himself into trouble. He didn’t want to hear any more about wedding gowns or extravagant dinner sets.

  “Ah, my lovely niece and nephew,” said Hugh.

  “Uncle Hugh, it’s good to see you. Mama sends her love,” said Francis.

  Hugh frowned. “Your parents are not in attendance tonight?”

  Francis shook his head. “No. We have a new shipment arriving at the docks from the West Indies tomorrow morning, hence why I shall only be staying for a short while. And Mama is spending time with William and Hattie, helping them to set up the nursery.”

  William Saunders had recently returned from France, and to everyone’s surprise, had taken himself a new wife. Hattie was with child and Adelaide Saunders was already a doting grandmother-in-waiting.

  With family greetings quickly over, James held out an arm to Caroline. Francis accompanied Maggie and Claire up the front steps.

  “Looking forward to this evening?” he asked.

  Caroline screwed up her face. “Not particularly. But I am under instructions to attend tonight and to keep a low profile. I am not in my parents’ good graces. I have received lectures from both my mother and father on the shortcomings of my behavior. Apparently, I am getting myself somewhat of an unwelcome reputation as a result of having one or two overly amorous admirers.”

  He winced, taking no joy in knowing that his cousin was also on the out with her family. Though for Caroline, it was not an uncommon occurrence. She had a prickly nature and did not suffer fools. Too many men had discovered to their great cost that beneath her stunning beauty lay a sharp mind. It would take a special kind of man to capture Caroline’s imagination, let alone her heart.

  “So, we both need a drink or three,” he replied.

  “Exactly.”

  Once inside the Shepherds’ elegantly decorated reception hall, James hunted them down a drink. When the footman offered Caroline an orgeat and she recoiled in horror, James found himself laughing for the first time in days. He was still chuckling when he selected a glass of champagne and handed it to her.

  Caroline sipped her drink while James nursed his wine. His bad mood and his father’s reaction to it left him deciding that a simple French burgundy was the wisest choice for the evening. A glass too many of whisky might lead him to tell Guy a few home truths, and thereby ruin the evening.

  “I hear you are off to Lord Newhall’s house party in Derbyshire. I thought the two of you were enemies, so how did you manage to get saddled with that?” he asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “Mama and Papa both think I need to get out of London for a time. Let things settle down with the populace of young unmarried men of the ton, or something to that effect. As far as I am aware, my trip to Newhall Castle is purely to make up the numbers. Francis is coming with me, so we are hoping to steal away from much of the festivities. Just don’t let my parents find out the truth.”

  “Don’t tell me the Ice Queen is thinking of abdicating,” said James with a grin.

  She swatted him on the arm. “Horrid beast. And don’t say that too loudly in public; this country has laws against treason. I don’t want the Prince Regent to hear that people have dubbed me a queen. Knowing how sensitive he is about titles; he might just have me arrested.”

  “Yes, and the Tower of London is not the most pleasant or warmest of places to spend your days,” he replied.

  “I hear from Cousin Claire that you are also in a bit of a funk at present. She asked if Francis and I could take you with us to Derbyshire. I said I would speak to you,” said Caroline.

  James put a finger to his lips and tapped them lightly. Now that was an idea he had not considered. Newhall Castle wasn’t that far from Burton-on-Trent where the two Tims were basing themselves for the winter. If he accompanied Caroline and Francis to the house party, he could easily slip away for a few days and spend some time with his friends. He increasingly felt more comfortable in their company than he did with Guy. This was an unexpected, but possibly welcome change to James’s plans.

  “Are you serious about that? I mean, about me coming with you?” he asked.

  Her face brightened and she smiled. “Absolutely. The three of us would have a lovely time together. Since I don’t think I have any sort of shot at becoming the next Countess Newhall, we could have our own little private party in the middle of his,” she replied.

  Getting out of town for a week or so would mean James could avoid listening to Claire’s almost constant updates about the wedding preparations. His head would be glad for the respite, though there was little he could do for his heart.

  The offer was extremely appealing. And since he would be accompanying his cousins to Newhall Castle, his family-centric father would be unlikely to say no to him going. His mood lifted for the first time in days. It wasn’t much, but he sorely needed it.

  “If your father can spare both Francis and me for the time we are away, I could do it. I might be able to catch up with some friends who are undertaking a painting commission up at Burton-on-Trent. Hopefully Newhall won’t mind if I slip away for a few days. You know Timothy Walters and Timothy Smith, don’t you?”

  He sensed a moment of hesitation from Caroline. “Yes, but since I plan to keep my visit to Derbyshire as low-key as possible, I don’t think you should make mention of it to your friends.”

  He was about to ask her the reason for her guarded response when Francis suddenly appeared at his shoulder. Behind him stood Francis’s friend Harry Menzies. At times, James wondered if the two of them were joined at the hip. Wherever Francis went, Harry followed.

  Caroline gave Harry the merest nod before paying close attention to her champagne. Harry, in turn, greeted her with a bright smile.

  James held out his hand to Harry in friendly greeting.

  “Radley,” said Harry, shaking his hand.

  “Menzies. I didn’t realize you knew the happy couple,” replied James.

  “I don’t. But my father is trying to get Tobias Shepherd to find me a seat in the northern counties. Manchester needs a new local member and his aim is for it to be me. Not that I have the slightest interest in a political career, but Papa is insistent the family strengthen our ties with the area.”

  Harry’s father had made his money in the textiles trade, and was no doubt looking to gain more traction for his family with the elite of England by getting his son into parliament.

  Francis drew his sister to one side. “Excuse us for a moment, would you?”

  Caroline nodded, before she and Francis walked a few feet away and began a private conversation.

  Not wishing to appear rude by eavesdropping, James turned from his cousins and back to Harry Menzies. “Well you seem to have come to the ri
ght place if you are hoping to find a way to get into parliament. You just need to do as Guy Dannon is doing and get yourself a wife,” said James.

  James had been in jest with his remark, but the look that Harry gave in response, told him that Harry considered it to be no laughing matter. “I am working on that, Radley. Though I am aiming a touch higher than the Shepherd girl. With my family coming from trade, I need a wife with a more prestigious family name. Someone who comes from a traditional noble family,” replied Harry. His gaze was fixed on Caroline as he spoke.

  James felt a shudder of icy premonition chill his bones.

  Leah sucked in a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and stepped out of her room. As expected, her father was waiting for her on the landing. He offered her his arm. Their gazes met for an instant. The tight smile on his face almost matched perfectly to hers.

  “You might want to summon a real smile for your guests and your fiancé. You know how people like to see a happy bride,” he said.

  “Yes, Papa,” she replied.

  Those two words had become her sole response to him over the past weeks. He had ignored her pleadings to refuse Guy’s suit, telling her that it was a sensible marriage and that her future husband would make a fine politician. She was destined to follow in the footsteps of her mother and sister, so she should do as they had done and accept her lot.

  Her father dragged her back into her bedroom and shut the door behind him, the familiar twitch of his mouth telling her that he was not the least bit happy. “You had better learn to fix your smile more naturally to your face if you are going to help Guy with his career. The sort of men you will be expected to grace with your sexual charms do not care for shy, simpering misses. They want a confident woman who knows how to please a man. Once you are married, you will have to earn your keep.”