Two of a Kind

by Sasha Cottman

  James ignored the obvious undertone of disappointment in Sir Geoffrey’s voice at the mention of Leah’s father. They were back to the problem that had sent Leah fleeing from her wedding in the first place: her father dictating her life, and society’s expectations of her doing exactly as she was told.

  “And that is where you come into it, young man. Though I imagine you must have already accepted that you would have a greater and ongoing role to play in her life. Only a fool would think of travelling for several days with an unwed young woman and not expect there to be further consequences. From my experience of you, I don’t see a dull-minded man.”

  “Society would expect me to marry her,” replied James.

  “Society and I demand it,” said Sir Geoffrey.

  This was sweet music to James’s ear. Not that he particularly cared what London high society thought of the matter, but the fact that Sir Geoffrey expected him to marry Leah was most encouraging. Her grandfather’s opinion could mean all the difference when it came to the point of convincing her that if she had to marry in order to escape her father, then James should be the one she chose.

  “I thank you for your candor, Sir Geoffrey. It heartens me somewhat. To be honest, I had planned to speak to Leah soon about the current situation. The problem, of course, being that I cannot in all good conscience pressure her into marrying me. She must come of her own accord,” he said.

  Sir Geoffrey snorted. “She must be made to see reason, is more like it. I am prepared to indulge my granddaughter only so far. I run the risk of creating a greater schism in the family if I openly defy her father once he discovers she is here at Mopus Manor. Things are bad enough between my son-in-law and myself already.”

  He rose from the chair and after placing his hand in his coat pocket, he withdrew a small blue box. He offered it to James.

  “This is a family heirloom. It belonged to my wife, Alice, and I know Leah has always had a particular liking of it. My wife was a strong woman, but with a kind and loving heart. Leah is so much like her that at times I have nearly called her Alice,” said Sir Geoffrey.

  Since the topic of marriage was now being raised, it made sense for James to be honest about how he felt for Leah. If Sir Geoffrey knew James loved his granddaughter, it could only help to further his cause.

  James looked at the box he now held in his hand. Sir Geoffrey’s blessing meant a great deal. “Her strength of character is one of the many reasons why I love your granddaughter,” he replied.

  Sir Geoffrey smiled. “I was hoping you had formed a special affection for my Leah. She deserves to be with a man who loves her.”

  James opened the ring box. Inside sat a thin band of gold, encrusted with alternating small emeralds and diamonds which circled the entire ring. He blinked. It was exactly the sort of ring he would have chosen for Leah if he had been tasked with buying her a betrothal ring himself.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  He put the ring box to one side, intending only to show it to Leah if she agreed to marry him. He would not, under any circumstances, be waving it under her nose as an inducement to get her to accept his proposal.

  “There is one other thing,” said Sir Geoffrey.

  “Yes?” replied James.

  “I have written to your father.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “I bought you some Cornish pasties. I hope they are still hot.”

  James looked up from the bench he was sitting on outside his painting studio and nodded as Leah handed over a small cloth bag. “Thank you. I am partial to a pasty.”

  “Just don’t tell my grandfather’s cook that I brought them back from Truro. She fancies herself as somewhat of a master of the art and might not take too kindly to the knowledge that we have eaten ones from foreign climes.”

  The day spent in the town of Truro had been a delight. It was the first time she had felt safe enough to venture from the house on her own. Sir Geoffrey had insisted on her taking two burly footmen with her just in case her visit unfortunately happened to coincide with the arrival of someone from her family who had been sent from London to retrieve her.

  “You should come over to Truro with me next time I visit. There is a color shop on Boscawen Street that I passed on my way to the baker’s. I expect if you need more paint colors, you could purchase some there.”

  “Thank you. I might just do that. It would be good to spend a day away from the easel and freshen my mind,” he replied.

  He sat the bag to one side, then patted the space beside him on the bench. “Come and sit with me. We need to talk.”

  Leah immediately stiffened. There was something in his manner that put her senses on edge. He looked like he was about to deliver bad news. She had seen it enough times in her life to know the warning signs.

  “Your grandfather came and spoke to me while you were in town.”

  “About what?” she ventured, knowing in her heart that there was really only one topic of discussion her grandfather would have wanted to raise with James in her absence.

  “About you. About us.”

  Of course, her grandfather had spoken to James. It irritated her that he had waited until she was in Truro for the day to seek James out. People were always having conversations about her but not actually including her in the discussion.

  Leah held his gaze, determined to get a full understanding of what had been said in her absence and, God forbid, what had been decided. She could only pray that James had not made mention of the kiss. Or indeed any of their kisses.

  “None of what he said came as a surprise. What Sir Geoffrey stated is the obvious. In society’s eyes you are ruined, and I have been the one who caused your downfall,” he said.

  “But you didn’t. I made the decision to run away from my own wedding. You merely helped to see me safely delivered here,” she replied.

  James sat forward on the long wooden bench and held his hands tightly together. He shook his head. This was not an encouraging sight. “Your grandfather can only protect you from your father for so long. You and I being here at Mopus Manor puts Sir Geoffrey in a difficult position. He has asked that we consider all possible solutions to the problem.”

  “The problem being me,” she replied.

  He got to his feet and walked a little way away. Standing with his hands in his coat pockets, he looked out over the river before turning back to her. “You are not a problem for me, Leah. Far from it.”

  Problem, quandary—it mattered little what he wanted to label her as being. She was still something that needed to be solved. To her mind, they were now left facing a difficult situation. Both could see the inevitable outcome that everyone would expect of their time in Cornwall, but neither of them wanted to go through with it. At least not like this.

  Leah came and stood by James’s side. She could never imagine growing tired of the view down to the Tresillian River and beyond to where it met the Truro River. The dark blue of the waters constantly created white-capped ripples at the point where the two rivers connected.

  He turned to her. “You and I have to make some hard decisions. I wrote to my father and explained what happened. I told him about the journey here and a little of why you fled the church. Sir Geoffrey informed me earlier today that he too has written to my father. The mail only takes a day or so to reach London, so by now, people will know where we are.”

  “What else did my grandfather say?” she said.

  He reached out and took hold of her hand, and their fingers locked gently together. She was surprised by how much she had felt the loss of his touch. The simple pleasure of being seated beside one another on the carriage bench each day, the feel of his hard thigh against her leg, was something she could admit to missing. And even now, it was nice to simply hold hands.

  “He sees no other option than for you to marry. The decision for you, of course, being whom you will wed.” His hold on her fingers tightened just enough to have her lifting her gaze to meet his.

  James
was in a difficult position; society would expect him to offer for her. But if he did and it was only out of a sense of being compelled, then he and she would simply be swapping places. It would be James who found himself bound to someone he did not love, the same as she had with Guy.

  “Thank you for telling me. I am sure that was not what you wanted to hear from him,” she said.

  “You might be surprised by what I want,” he replied.

  The sudden gruff edge to his voice had heat pooling in her loins. Her body’s reaction to him was not surprising; it had been happening for some time now. Much as she had tried to fight it, she knew he had already stolen her heart. What she would give to be able to offer up the rest of herself to him. For him to claim her. For James to love her.

  Leah tried to control the whirl of emotion which being this close to James created within her, but she was powerless against its strength. Instead she was left clutching at her sense of fair play and justice.

  James was being put in a position that was grossly unjust to him, and because of that, she could not bring herself to speak to him of marriage. He should not have to suffer the punishment of being made to marry someone he did not love.

  But things were as they were, and while love might have failed them, Leah was determined that she would not fail James. She had to push him away, force him to leave Mopus Manor. To give him the chance to make decisions about his future before others made those decisions for him.

  “Well then, I suggest you start making plans to leave here and soon. Matters are going to get ugly very quickly once I tell my grandfather that you and I are not going to be wed.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Leah stood at the window of the breakfast room the following morning while James was seated at the breakfast table, enjoying his second cup of tea for the day.

  He looked up from his cup as Leah gasped and suddenly pressed her face to the window. “A carriage is approaching the house. No prizes for guessing that it will be my father.”

  James rose from his chair and came to stand alongside her. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, then peered out the window. “It was only a matter of time.”

  Leah shrugged off his touch. “You should have left while you still had the chance, James.”

  Her voice lacked emotion as she spoke, but James suspected it was part of her usual detached way of dealing with her father—a deeply ingrained pattern of behavior which was designed to protect her heart and mind from Tobias Shepherd.

  A black travel coach wound its way up the long drive which climbed the hill leading to where Mopus Manor stood.

  He held his hand up to shade his eyes from the morning sun, then looked again. For an instant, he thought his heart had stopped. “I’ll be damned. That is not your father. That is mine!”

  He would know the Radley family travel coach anywhere, even at this distance. The Strathmore crest of the three stars and a rearing horse emblazoned in gold on the side of the coach gave it away.

  “What can it mean?” she asked.

  James could think of a dozen things that the impending arrival of his father could herald, but he was in too much of a hurry out the breakfast room to stop and consider them. “We shall know soon enough,” he cried.

  After grabbing his coat, he raced outside, then stood waiting impatiently in the chilly morning air while the travel coach made its final turn up the hill and arrived in the manor’s forecourt. He had last seen the coach when he had sent it home from the Gloucester Coffee House on the morning, he’d followed Leah out of London. He had not expected that the next time he saw it, it would be as it rolled along a sandy road in the middle of Cornwall, bringing his father.

  When it came to a halt, James quickly stepped forward and opened the door. His father’s partly bald head appeared, followed by his red and gold woolen cape of office. James frowned. His father only wore his bishop’s garb when conducting affairs on behalf of the church.

  “Your Grace,” he said, and dipped into a bow.

  His father gave him a barely perceptible nod. James righted himself, but kept his gaze fixed toward the ground. Hugh Radley’s role as a father was secondary to his role as Bishop of London when he was on official business.

  “Ah, Sir Geoffrey, how are you?” said Hugh.

  James lifted his head to see Leah’s grandfather striding toward them.

  Sir Geoffrey stopped and bowed before Hugh. “Your Grace. I never expected to see you darkening my doorstep. It appears Mopus Manor has become quite the meeting place for you and your family,” he said.

  “Yes, so it would seem,” replied Hugh, holding out his hand. His father finally turned to James and gave him a tight smile. “Come. You, Sir Geoffrey, and I have much to discuss.”

  James followed his father and Sir Geoffrey through the front door. He poked his head back in the breakfast room, but it was empty. By the look of it, Leah had made the smart decision to remain out of sight until she was summoned. From the frosty greeting he had received from own his father, James could not blame her.

  They were ushered into Sir Geoffrey’s private study, and after the butler was instructed to bring tea and toast, the door was closed behind them.

  “Should I go and find Leah?” asked James.

  Sir Geoffrey shook his head. “You can talk to her after we have discussed and settled matters.”

  The stern looks on both Sir Geoffrey and Hugh’s faces gave him all the clues he needed; they did not intend to discuss anything with Leah until they had made their position clear with James. After that, he was going to be the one left to convince her of what needed to happen.

  “Your Grace, where would you like to sit?” asked Sir Geoffrey.

  “I have been sitting for days. I am more than happy to walk the floor for the time being and give my legs a good stretch,” replied Hugh, unbuttoning his bishop’s cloak.

  James wasn’t certain as to what he himself should be doing. He went to sit on one of the long battered green couches, but the disapproving frown on his father’s face stopped him. Hugh began to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back, fingers constantly wriggling.

  James stepped to one side, keeping out of his father’s way. He let his arms hang at his side as he stood to attention and watched Hugh pace. The sight of his father’s feet marching up and down the room had him chewing nervously on his bottom lip. Memories of receiving a scolding from his father as a child surfaced in James’s mind. Hugh was a loving and affectionate father, but when one or more of his golden rules had been broken, punishment was sure to follow.

  James might well be a fully grown adult, but in his father’s mind he was not above being made to pay for his sins. In running away with Leah, he had stolen another man’s bride, which James was sure had broken more than one of the Ten Commandments.

  The door opened and the butler entered the room carrying a tray with cups and a pot of tea on it. He was followed by the housekeeper carrying a smaller tray with toast and cakes. They set the food down on the tall oak sideboard which sat against the wall, then left the room.

  James made a step toward the spread, intent on pouring them all a cup of tea, but a second unhappy glare from his father had him beating a hasty retreat back to his spot out of the way. There he stood once more, hands by his side like a naughty schoolboy. Parents always seemed to have the perfect way of make their offspring feel small.

  “We shall talk first, then food,” announced Hugh.

  “Would you please let me explain?” said James, hoping to get the first word in.

  His father shook his head. “I think it best that you understand how things are in London before you offer up any explanations to me.”

  James fell silent. From Hugh’s unusually curt manner since his arrival, James didn’t expect that the news he was about to hear would be good.

  “What you and Leah have done is to create one of the biggest scandals of the year. I was made to stand in front of the Archbishop of
Canterbury and answer some very uncomfortable questions regarding my judgement as a parent. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me?” said Hugh.

  “I am sorry your grace,” replied James, feeling the heat rise up on his cheeks.

  “Oh, and don’t get me started on the very ugly conversation I had with Tobias Shepherd. Suffice to say he was livid. He was making ready to come to Cornwall and retrieve Leah, but Guy Dannon asked him not to bother,” said Hugh.

  “How is Guy?” asked James. Leah’s father was not someone James honestly gave a damn about. His former friend was more of a loose cannon than Tobias Shepherd.

  His father huffed. “Do you really care? I mean, you stole the man’s fiancée away from him on his wedding day. You can hardly expect me, Guy, or, for that matter, the rest of all of London to think you give a tinker’s cuss about him.”

  James had hoped the letter Sir Geoffrey had sent Hugh had made the situation clear, but that did not appear to be the case. Everyone thought James had stolen Leah.

  “I didn’t steal Leah from her wedding. I followed her from the church and only intercepted her when we finally reached Basingstoke,” replied James.

  “So, you say. But you could have stopped her leaving London, and you didn’t. Instead, you helped her travel all the way to Mopus Manor. Tell me, James, does that sound like the actions of a man who doesn’t have in mind to steal away a young woman? To betray his friend?”

  His father’s harsh words felt like a slap to the face. He had been expecting some sort of reproach, but to hear his own sire accuse him of such a dishonest and despicable act truly hurt.

  Sir Geoffrey got to his feet. He walked over to the sideboard, and after picking up the tea pot, began to fill the three cups. James had hoped he might back up the version of the story already given him by his granddaughter and James. But it was to no avail.