CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

 

Colin's rage had reached the boiling point the moment he'd laid eyes on Edmond. While he had only intended to plant him one facer, once his knuckles connected with the other man's jaw, satisfaction had swelled within him. He'd needed to do it again, to punish the source of his muddled emotions. Anger, that Edmond would betray him. Sadness, that he only owned half of Penelope's heart, when he'd thought she'd given him her all. Confusion, at having witnessed the two of them making love and being unable to look away. That infuriated him most of all, that a part of him had enjoyed watching another man with a woman he thought of as his.

It became clear by the third punch that Edmond would put up no resistance, which stole the wind from his sails. If the man wasn't going to fight back, then Colin was just beating him, and the satisfaction of that only lasted for a moment. What he'd wanted was a row, something Edmond seemed determined not to give him.

"Get up," he growled, moving from on top of Edmond and reaching for his walking stick, using it to find purchase so he could pull himself to his feet. "Stand and face me, you coward."

Groaning and using his sleeve to stifle the blood streaming from a cut on his lip, Edmond struggled to sit.

"I'm not going to fight you, Colin," he murmured, his voice contorted by a lip that had begun to swell.

Heat blossomed in his face and neck as he began to pace, his knuckles turning white around the head of his cane.

"Why not? Are you so afraid to fight a cripple?"

Shaking his head, Edmond stood, not bothering to right his rumpled clothes. Pulling his arm away from his face, he studied the blood staining his shirt cuff and grimaced.

"Are you finished? If not, don't worry, I could weather more. Come on, do your worst."

"I'm not going to beat you while you lie on the rug wallowing in self-pity, turning me into the villain in this farce."

Edmond scoffed, crossing the room to the sideboard. Pouring himself a liberal splash of brandy, he downed it in one gulp, wincing as the liquor seemed to sting his lip.

"No, I think it's clear who the real villain here is. The white knight returns from war to claim his princess, sending the black knight ahead of him to smooth the way. The black knight kidnaps the princess, taking her for himself. I won't even offer an excuse for my behavior, as we both know nothing I could say will convince you that I never meant for any of this to happen."

Colin's hand curled into a fist at his side. "I am certain you fought most valiantly, but once your prick accidentally penetrated her cunt, you became ensnared and from there, it became a matter of simple biology."

"I love her."

His declaration hurt just as badly now as it had hearing it in the alley. It settled in his gut, causing him to feel as if he would become ill all over the Persian rug beneath his boots. Gripping the tumbler he'd been drinking from before Edmond's arrival, he hurled it across the room with a grunt. The satisfying sound of it shattering echoed through the room in concert with the crackling fire.

"She was mine!" he bellowed, the tendons in his neck stretched to their limit from the force of it. "You pilfered her from me like a pickpocket … like a thief in the night. And what's worse, you didn't even possess the bollocks to come to me yourself and tell me what you'd done. No, you stoop to sneaking around behind my back, fucking her in alleys and whispering words of love, knowing all the while that it would rip my heart out."

Edmond lowered his gaze. "She knows about how we set out to trick her into marrying you. We hurt her, and this was her retaliation. We deserved it … you know we did."

"I did what I did out of desperation," he retorted. "Because you were my best friend, and I thought I could trust you to help me. You knew I needed her. You knew I was desperate. Once you knew she was on to us, you should have told me so I could mend it. I could have at least tried to make her see that what we did was necessary."

Edmond clenched his teeth as if angry, but pinched his lips together. Despite his earlier contrition, Colin sensed he held back now, likely because he'd been caught red-handed.

"You may as well say what you mean to say," he snapped. "You're dying to speak, I know you."

Edmond laughed, a harsh, rough sound. "Necessary, you say? You have some nerve. Despite being only a third son, you possess an astounding amount of arrogance and surety about the place you think you occupy in the world. You were gone for three years! You ruined her before you ran away like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, yet somehow, you expected to claim her as if she'd waited for you breathlessly all this time."

"I did not—"

"You did!" Edmond insisted. "You bloody well did! You're so sure of yourself, that you assumed she would just fall into your arms as if none of it had ever happened. What you did broke that woman … so much that she doesn't even know how to love anymore. And when someone else comes along to show her, you just can't stand the fact that it isn't you! You cannot abide the thought that she might care for someone who isn't you!"

Colin flared his nostrils as he fought to control his breathing. As it was, he felt as if the rage choked him, making it difficult to breathe properly. Every word fell on him like the lash of a whip. Had he really done what Edmond claimed? Perhaps. And maybe he was arrogant, but that did not change the fact that Edmond had attempted to steal Penelope right out from under him without even giving him the courtesy of telling him he stood in the race for her affection.

"Say what you will, but I love her. I know her in ways you never could. In the end, that is what will win her, and if that doesn't, the fact that you're as hungry for her fortune as you are for her cunt will do the trick."

The blow came unexpected, yet as Colin fell off balance from the force of Edmond's fist against his nose, he welcomed the pain. It proved a momentary distraction from his other, inner agony. Edmond stood over him with an extended hand, offering it to him.

"That was unnecessarily low. Otherwise, I wouldn't have done that."

Swatting his hand aside, he made his way to his feet on his own, glaring at Edmond as blood trickled from one nostril.

"Did I strike a nerve?"

Edmond glowered at him with eyes burning with fury. "You may blame me for this, and call me every foul name you can think of because I know I deserve it. But never again will you insinuate that I am after her inheritance. I would want her if she were penniless."

Whipping out his handkerchief, he applied pressure to stop the bleeding, wincing at the tenderness of his nostrils and the cartilage above it. Thankfully, it did not appear to be broken.

"How convenient for you that she happens to come with heavy pockets."

When Edmond didn't respond, he turned to leave, leaning wearily on his walking stick. The upset had caused his thigh muscles to tighten, his knee to throb.

"I intend to fight you for her, Edmond. And I intend to win."

Edmond shrugged. "We both know who she will choose, and that I hardly stand a chance. You'll receive no opposition from me. She knows the state of my heart … there is nothing more I can do."

Colin limped out of the room, not bothering to respond to Edmond's final remarks. If he did, he might be forced to admit being intimidated by his friend. As well as he knew them both, he realized what he'd seen between them in the alley had been genuine. Edmond was not a man who would tell a woman he loved her unless he meant it. He'd watched Penelope struggle with herself up until the moment she'd confessed to loving Edmond back. He saw what it cost her to admit it, even as he knew she loved him, as well.

As sure as he'd been that he had secured her as his wife, Colin now felt unease in his gut. Edmond was the kind of man women fell head over heels in love with, losing all their good sense. He was everything Colin was not, and his past history with Penelope put him in a vulnerable position. Unlike him, Edmond had never wounded her.

As he began the long walk home, it struck him that he might be the one who didn't stand a chance.

 

 

 

***

 

Penelope stared dismally into her tea, unable to take a single sip. She merely held the cup for the sake of its warmth seeping into her palms. She stood in an impossible situation, and had no notion of how to extract herself. Two men who loved her—whom she loved back. Both wanted to marry her. Oh, Colin had not asked her yet, but had more than made his intentions known. She fully expected him to propose when she visited him this evening as they'd arranged.

As it was, she hardly knew how she would endure the meeting, so wrung dry was she from her time with Edmond just a few hours ago. His declaration of love made for the second time shocked her far less than his proposal. Surely, he must know what a marriage between them would do to Colin. That he'd asked her anyway meant he truly did love her—enough to risk destroying their friendship. She'd never imagined anyone could love her so much. Yet, both men had demonstrated a devotion that touched her in her deepest of places. Colin, who had lived for her, and Edmond, who was willing to risk one of the most important relationships in his life for her.

How could she ever choose?

"Penelope, dearest, are you all right?"

Tearing her gaze away from the murky depths of her teacup, she glanced up to find both her parents staring at her. They'd been sharing a quiet afternoon over tea, content to do so until dinner and the ball that would cap their evening. Penelope hardly felt like going with so much weighing on her mind.

It was her mother who'd asked the question, eyeing her over her embroidery frame with concern in her gaze. The marquis lowered the book he'd been reading and studied her with a frown.

"Yes, I'm fine," she insisted, trying to inject a bit of cheer into her voice. "Just … woolgathering."

She took a sip of tea beneath their watchful eyes and forced a smile.

"Are you feeling poorly?" Hartford asked, continuing to observe her even after her mother had gone back to her embroidery. "Perhaps you should skip the ball tonight to rest. You've seemed out of sorts all week."

Before she could offer protest, the door to the drawing room opened to admit the butler who bowed and cleared his throat with an anxious glance in the marquis' direction.

"Captain Worthing, for Lady Penelope."

At the announcement, her mother gasped, Penelope choked on a mouthful of tea, and while she sputtered and coughed, Hartford leapt to his feet with fists curled.

"Now, see here, Worthing," he blustered as Colin entered the room, leaning more heavily on his cane than usual. "I thought I told you to sod off."

Gasping, Penelope came to her feet at the sight of him, knuckles bruised, a bluish-black stain spreading from the bridge of his nose out toward his eyes.

"What's happened to you?" she blurted before she could think better of it.

Hartford strode forward, blocking Colin from her with his bulky body. "It will be nothing compared to what I'll do to him if he doesn't vacate the premises immediately."

To his credit, Colin didn't bat an eyelash when he turned his gaze to the marquis.

"I beg your pardon, my lord, but I must speak with Penelope … alone."

"Absolutely not," the marquis protested. "Now, kindly remove yourself before I have you tossed down the front steps!"

"Wait!" she cried, rounding Hartford and placing herself at Colin's side. "Papa, let him stay. I want to hear him out … please."

Colin cast her a thankful glance, while her stepfather watched her as if she'd sprouted a second head.

Placing a hand on his arm, she stood on tiptoe to kiss his weathered cheek. "Papa, I know you only want to protect me, and I love you dearly for it. But I have nearly reached my majority, and I believe I am ready to start making these sorts of decisions for myself. Don't you?"

Grunting in grudging agreement, he took a step back and nodded. "Very well. Come along, dear. Let's give them the room."

She locked gazes with her mother, who silently asked if she would be all right. Penelope gave her a nod and a smile, understanding her mother's concern. Nodding back, as if satisfied, she took Hartford's arm and allowed him to lead her from the parlor.

Once the door had closed behind them, she gestured toward the tea service. "Would you care for—"

"I know about you and Edmond," he blurted in a rush.

Hands trembling, she fought to still them by clasping her skirts and balling her fists around them. "He told you?"

Scoffing, he rolled his eyes skyward. "That bastard would never have been so brave. No, I saw you with him … this afternoon. I noticed he acted a bit odd and followed him, thinking that whatever had him feeling so low might be something I could help him with. Imagine my shock when I witnessed him helping himself … to you."

She closed her eyes and shame washed over her at the thought of him forced to watch her and Edmond. It could not have been easy for him.

"Colin I … I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry. Things were never supposed to happen this way."

Pacing away from her, he gazed through a nearby window. "That's what he said."

Blinking back tears, she became overwhelmed with grief at the thought that she might lose him for good.

"Colin, please … I know I have no right to ask you to forgive me—"

"But I do," he murmured, turning to face her. "Don't you understand that there is nothing you could do that I would not forgive? What must I do to prove that to you?"

Coming away from the window, he braced himself on his walking stick and sank down to one knee. His expression remained solemn as he gazed up at her.

"Must I kneel before you, and tell you that I cannot live without you? That I understand your hurting me was a direct result of me hurting you? From this day forward, our slate is clean. If you can forgive me, then know I have already forgiven you for this or anything else you might do … because I love you, Penny. I want to make you my wife."

She reached out to touch his face, then smoothed her fingertips up in his hair. "You are the man I always thought you were. Of course I forgive you. I love you … but you must know that I love him, as well. It isn't fair to you, Colin, nor to him."

"I don't care," he declared. "I understand that things happened and your feelings are fresh. You don't have to give your answer now. I realize you have his offer to consider, as well. Just know that I don't care about anything that has happened before this moment. If you choose me, I will love you so ardently, you'll never think of him again."

Rising once more, he smoothed his rumpled clothes. Reaching out, he stroked her cheek with his bruised knuckles, then drew her to him for a sweet, chaste kiss. Despite the kiss's quickness and lack of erotic finesse, Penelope felt it down to her very soul.

"You should know that I've taken a position with the War Office, under Major-General Sir Henry Torrens. I'm only his ensign, but there is opportunity for advancement."

She smiled. "Colin, how wonderful! I am glad for you."

He nodded, returning her smile. "I did it for us, Penny. I wanted a secure future … to support you on my own, without help from my family. I wanted a purpose beyond that of war, which is far behind me."

Before he turned to leave, she caught hold of his sleeve.

"I recant my previous statement," she whispered. "You are a far greater man that I thought you were."

Taking her hand and kissing it, he turned to leave once and for all. She lowered herself into the closest chair, pressing both hands over her mouth and closing her eyes. She remained that way, still as death, until the sound of the front door closing and Colin's footsteps down the front stairs told her he was gone.

The marquis re-entered the room a moment later, his face drawn and grave. "Well? What did the cur want? What has he done now?"

She stood, but avoided his gaze. Hartford knew her too well, and she couldn't risk that he might see the truth in her eyes.

"He has asked me to marry him … truly, this time."

From the corner of her eye, she spied the marquis's eyes widening just before he clenched his jaw.

"What did you say?"

"I told him I would consider it, but … I don't believe I will accept."

As she brushed past her stepfather, she noted the look of satisfaction that passed across his face at her declaration. However, it only caused her heart to sink further and further into her stomach.

It was an impossible decision. Either way, one of them would suffer, and Penelope realized she didn't have the heart to inflict that on them. She could never find happiness with one, knowing she had broken the heart of the other.