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December 18, 1818
D
amnation.
“A pox on Papa and Mama for throwing this rout,” Stephen grumbled as he tugged once more on the too-tight knot of his cravat. “Did we truly need another rout when we just had one last week?”
His twin, Griffin, snorted beside him. “Our parents adore entertaining. Besides, their wedding anniversary is drawing near, and they want as many well-wishers as possible around them.” He shrugged. “Where is the harm if you must dance attendance upon them for a handful of days?”
“I suppose I must since Papa still maintains he’s in ill health.”
A shadow of guilt scudded across Griffin’s face, but before Stephen could ask about it, the emotion was gone. “Yes, we should keep him in good spirits.”
“How is Nora?” He tugged again on the deuced tight knot, but his valet had done his work too well. It didn’t budge.
“Quite frankly, she’s amazing. Mother has taken it upon herself to introduce Nora to some of the more prominent gentry this evening.” His brother offered such a goofy grin that Stephen couldn’t help rolling his eyes to the ceiling of the well-appointed drawing room. “I never thought finding myself in love would be so...”
“Amazing?” he put forth with a heavy amount of sarcasm hanging from the word.
“Well, yes.” A flush rose up his brother’s neck. “My apologies if I sound trite.”
“Pay no attention to me. I’m merely out of sorts this evening.” Stephen waved a hand. “I’m happy for you, but I only hope this affection lasts longer than Twelfth Night and the alleged magic of the holiday season.” That was a bloody rotten thing for him to say, but he couldn’t recall the words now.
Griffin narrowed his eyes. “If you think to imply that my engagement is naught but a sham—”
“Hold, brother.” He dropped a hand on his twin’s shoulder. “I meant no offense. As I said, I’m out of sorts and saying things I don’t mean.” He shook his head. “I don’t wish to be in attendance.”
“What would you do instead? You aren’t the bookish type to go hide in the library.”
“Perhaps ride. The night is fine enough for it.”
“Though cold.”
“True.” Stephen heaved a sigh. “Rotten, bloody winter.” Though there was a certain attraction in riding a horse over the fields graced with the scant few inches of snow they’d received over the last week. And with a greatcoat and muffler, he should be warm enough. Then his gaze happened to land upon the form of a woman clad in a blue gown that was a few years out of style but still brilliant in hue. His stomach dropped into his shoes. “What sort of sorcery is this then?” He tightened his fingers on his brother’s shoulder. “Isn’t that Lynette?” The last thing he needed was an old romance in residence.
And even more bitter memories.
Griffin followed his line of sight. “By Jove, I think it rather is,” he said in a low voice. “Did you know she was in the country?”
“I had no idea. We haven’t talked since the... incident.” He couldn’t bring himself to utter the words “broken engagement” even if it were with his brother. An avalanche of memories—both good and bad—started to fall through his mind, but he refused to let himself acknowledge them. Stuffing them back into the box they’d come from, he shook his head. “Why the devil is she here? And with her mother, to boot?”
His brother shrugged. “Perhaps Mother invited them.”
Damn, it had been ten years since he’d seen her. They would have been married almost that long if fate hadn’t taken a hand. What might have his life been like if she hadn’t fled and he hadn’t made a point of living life in Town playing the rogue where gambling, fast women, and scandal had filled his time?
Then an idea occurred, and one he hadn’t had since he and Griffin were reckless youths. “Trade places with me this evening.” He pulled his twin farther off to the side of the room. “She hasn’t yet seen us, so you can go in my stead and greet her.”
“What the deuce for? You have a history together. That’s to be expected when she jilted you.” Then he shivered. “You know how I loathe being the center of attention, and if I switch places with you, that’s bound to happen.”
“It’s only for a moment. Go over to her.”
“Why?” Griffin narrowed his eyes. “To what end? Besides, Nora won’t be best pleased I’ve made it a point to speak to another woman.”
Stephen huffed with frustration. “Rely on the security of your betrothal and do this one little favor for me.”
“Again, I ask why? You haven’t cared a jot for Lynette since she ran.”
“Vanity, perhaps.” He shrugged. “I want you to ask her to dance and see if she still harbors a grudge.”
Griffin shook his head. “That doesn’t signify. Why would you even want to after all this time? Don’t you despise her for what she did?”
“I do... I did.” He waved a hand to dismiss the question. “It matters not. However, if she doesn’t hold a grudge, perhaps I’ll talk to her, show her what she missed out on by throwing me over.” He tugged at the hem of his waistcoat. “Besides, it’s not like there are any other beauties here tonight.”
It was his twin’s turn to roll his eyes. “You’re a cad.”
“I won’t deny it, but now you’re engaged and in love, I’m feeling... left out, perhaps lonely.” He couldn’t believe he admitted that, but he and his twin were close, and he didn’t want to lose that friendship to a woman. “Please, as a last favor to me before you’re wed.”
For long moments, Griffin held his gaze. Anxiety and fondness warred for dominance in his eyes. Finally, he nodded. “I understand how you’re feeling.” But he heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Just this once, and this is the last time we engage in such a lark.”
“Agreed.” Once Griffin crossed the room and approached Lynette, Stephen watched their interaction intently. She hadn’t aged much in their time apart. Her dark brown hair was still as lustrous as it once was, and tonight she wore it in a topknot that descended into long ropes of curls. Her pert little nose that turned up ever so slightly at the end gave way to what he remembered as the deepest darkest of brown eyes. Did the tiny gold flecks still float in the irises when she labored under high emotion? Widowhood as well as motherhood had changed her once slender frame into a woman’s body with delectable curves, and he could help the groan of approval that escaped his throat.
Thwap!
The sound of flesh connecting with flesh echoed through the crowded room and interrupted the soft din of laughter and conversation, for Lynette had slapped Griffin’s face quite soundly. When she stormed out of the room, trailed by her mother in widow’s weeds that were long past expired, the heat of mortification sank into Stephen’s chest.
“Well, damn.” No doubt she still harbored a grudge. Well... fine. Perhaps he did too. After all, he was the one wronged during that whole affair, not her.
Griffin soon returned, and there was no mistaking the red outline of her fingers on his cheek. Though his eyes flashed with annoyance, the faint grin twisting his lips spoke of amusement. “By the by, the lady said you should rot in hell and that you weren’t forgiven for what you’d done. Not for a second did she believe I was you.” He lifted an eyebrow in question. “She also said I was to deliver the slap to you but doing such a thing in mixed company is outside of enough, even if you are my twin and probably deserve it.”
“Forgiven for what I’ve done?” He gawked at his brother as tendrils of heated anger coursed down his spine. “Has she forgotten that this whole mess lies squarely on her shoulders?”
Thanks to his mother’s quick thinking, she explained to the room at large that Lynette suffered from a horrible megrim that clouded her thinking and needed to lie down but might come down if she felt better. Everyone should return to merrymaking, but the stormy look of annoyance she directed Stephen’s way sent a chill into his chest. He’d catch her censure later, make no mistake.
“Somehow, knowing you, I rather doubt she was the only one at fault, and since you’ve never properly told me what happened that day, I’m withholding judgment.” Griffin rubbed a gloved hand along his cheek. When Nora looked a question at him from across the room, he merely waved and shook his head. No doubt he’d tell her the whole sordid tale later. Damn his eyes. “Because I’m curious, and now you owe me for the slap, what did you do to her?”
Oh, la, now he wished to know. Heat crept up his neck and into his ears, for he’d been rather horrid. He affected a shrug of nonchalance and hoped it appeared he didn’t care. “I vowed I’d make her life a living hell for breaking our engagement a week before we were to be wed. I also might have put forth a few rumors into well-bugged ears that she’d tried to cuckhold me.” He pressed his lips together, for that wasn’t the worst of it. “And that she was of loose morals.”
The unfortunate thing about rumors was they went through the ton like fire to dry tinder. He could have left things alone, for her breaking the engagement was enough to see her reputation in tatters without him saying a thing, but he’d been hurt and angry and young.
Griffin’s eyes widened. “God, you’re a bounder. I had no idea.”
“I know, but I’ve matured since then.” His chest tightened, both from his actions as a younger man and still feeling something for Lynette all these years later. “I was deeply wounded by her rejection and lashed out. I wanted to make her hurt as I was.”
For long moments his brother stared at him. “Are you interested in her as a woman now? You’ve never married and she’s a widow. For whatever reason, she’s attending this house party, which is oddly convenient for you.”
“Yes, quite,” Stephen murmured. But then, she’d grown up in the area and it was the Christmastide season. It figured she might wish to visit her mother, and only natural an invitation had been proffered from his mother due to their status and connections to the ton. “I’m not certain what I feel for her is of a romantic nature. Perhaps regret or the basest of interests? Lynette is quite attractive though.”
“Well, widowhood doesn’t render a woman ugly, you nodcock.” He rolled his eyes. “Besides, there is more to a relationship than looks. You need to stop being so superficial.”
The words carried more than a grain of truth. “I... I don’t know how.” Why the devil was he in a confessional mood this evening? “Becoming close to anyone terrifies me now. In many ways, her defection broke something in me.”
“Why?”
“I could get hurt.” He met his brother’s gaze as a wave of vulnerability swept over him. “I don’t want to feel that way again.”
Griffin frowned. “Why again? What about her breaking your engagement sent you into a spiral other than wanting to save face?”
Apparently tonight was the time for admissions. “She left me no choice in the matter, no opportunity for conversation, no closure, without a note.” The words felt dragged from a tight throat and were graveled with emotions he hadn’t let himself truly explore over the years. “Why wasn’t I enough for her, Griff?” To his horror, moisture sprang into his eyes. He quickly blinked away the tears. “Was I such a horrible bounder back then?”
“I have no idea, but you’ve always been a rogue.” Griffin dropped a hand on Stephen’s shoulder in comfort and solidarity, mirroring what Stephen had done to him earlier in the evening. “However, just now Lynette did say you were the biggest scoundrel she’d ever known and if she never saw you again it would be too soon. So whatever happened must have hurt her deeper than you thought.”
Damnation, that’s harsh. Yes, part of the issue was his. “My heart had been wounded but back then I scarcely knew myself.”
“Not an excuse. Had you argued with her before the split?”
“Not an argument, per se, but a discussion that went wrong. I said I’d hoped we could start a family on our wedding trip, that I wanted a handful of children, but she indicated she’d rather wait a few years to enjoy our time alone together before we did that. Said she didn’t know if having a brood was wise and that she didn’t wish to spend the bulk of her life increasing.”
“Fair enough. Did you talk about that?”
“No.” Stephen tugged again at the knot of his cravat. “I’m afraid I took that as a sign she didn’t want to marry me. I accused her of wanting to sabotage our relationship, of not wanting to do the duty to my title with me. So, she threw a shoe at my head, told me I didn’t understand her at all. That she refused to be left with a bevy of children while I cavorted through society as was my wont.” A shuddering sigh escaped him. “She vowed she would never marry me, and she stormed out, much like she did tonight.” He shrugged. “I’ve not been back at Ivy Castle since then. How could I when it was the backdrop to our starting the engagement?”
“Ah.” Griffin nodded. “She was the reason you’ve been reluctant to come here.”
“Yes, among other things, but from the gossip, she now lives in Surrey where she’d kept a cottage with her husband—a man she married quickly enough following our break. A man she had a child with directly after marrying. A child she didn’t want with me,” he finished in a broken whisper as his chest ached from the confession. “Obviously, she must have found fault with me, but I’ll not know for certain.”
Compassion lined Griffin’s expression. “Do you retain romantic feelings for her? Is that why you’ve never come up to scratch with another woman?”
“It’s doubtful. Perhaps I do for the girl she once was, but we are not those people any longer.” Yet that didn’t stop hot regret from sliding through his gut. Had they talked through the disagreement, would they even now enjoy marriage?
Gah, it was torture to keep second-guessing what had happened.
“I understand, yet deep down, I think you might carry a torch for her.” When Stephen huffed, his brother rushed on. “There’s nothing wrong with that. She was the first woman you’d ever given your heart to—”
“—and she smashed it beneath her heel,” he couldn’t help interrupting.
“Yes, well, you both have tempers, which mean emotions run deep.” Griffin settled an intense look upon him that reminded him of their father. “Don’t discount that until you examine how you truly feel apart from the anger.” He cast a glance about the room, and when his gaze connected with Nora, he smiled. In that one moment, Stephen wished he had what his brother did. “Mother says the baron’s widow is destitute. Wasn’t left well off by her husband—Lynette’s father. I guess there’s a distant cousin of his to whom the property now belongs, but he’s an absentee landowner. Hasn’t been here for an age. Doesn’t care, I guess, if Birch House is lost to unpaid taxes.”
Shock hit Stephen in the gut with the force of a blow. “That’s terrible. I wasn’t aware circumstances were so dire. What will they do?”
“I have no idea. Lucy mentioned something about Lynette being a cake lady.”
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Lucy had it from Lynette’s son—they’ve become friends earlier today—that Lynette sells baked goods back home. She means to do it through the holidays here to raise coin for that first installment of taxes as well as other expenses.” Griffin shrugged. “I don’t know how feasible that will be since she and her mother are now at Ivy Castle through the duration of the house party.”
“You assume, but after tonight, perhaps that will change.” Twin threads of guilt and concern twisted down Stephen’s spine. “It’s a rough go to be sure. Baron Ruddick has always owned the property neighboring this one. No doubt Lynette’s husband’s pension won’t be of much help.”
“I assume not. She has her own life in Surrey. I rather doubt she’ll linger here.”
The whole story smacked of a bad Drury Lane production, but it played on his compassion and his old friendship with the young widow. “Perhaps I should talk to her. It is Christmastide, after all. Past time to mend fences and all that.” Good Lord, why should he take the chance when she’d no doubt reject his overture again?
“You’re a nodcock, Stephen. Don’t make it worse. Leave her be. You need to take back the reins of your life and move forward.”
“That’s much of what Letty said to me yesterday.” He couldn’t help a sigh. “I don’t want to see her and Lady Ruddick tossed into the gutter, even if she’s a waspish sort, but I also don’t wish for Lynette to struggle because of her mother’s reduced circumstances.”
“Ah, so you have grown as a person.” Griffin flashed a grin. “I’m impressed.”
“Yes, well, it’s a process.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “You say she’s got a son?”
“Yes. A seven-year-old. Goes by the name of John. No doubt it was his father’s name.”
Stephen’s chest tightened once more, and his heart squeezed with longing. “If we’d been married, I wonder if we would have had a family...”
“Don’t linger in the past or its missteps, brother. No good can come of it.” Griffin clapped a hand on Stephen’s shoulder again. “Instead, forge a path in the here and now. Find a woman to court during the holidays. Or, perhaps fate has given you an opportunity to fix the mistakes you’ve made with Lynette. Either way, you mustn’t guard your heart against hurt, for that is no way to live.”
A snort escaped him. “You’re so wise because you’re engaged?” Annoyance stabbed through his chest. How dare his brother lecture him on matters of romance?
The corners of Griffin’s lips tipped upward in a grin. “No, but now that I know what being truly happy and content is like, I want the same for you—my twin and best friend.”
Another round of emotion welled, and Stephen blinked away the damning moisture. “Thank you.”
“Don’t let jealousy or bitterness drive a wedge between us, and don’t let regret do the same with you and Lynette.” He lowered his voice as Nora approached. “If there is no romance there any longer, at least you might have a friend. Everyone needs that. Especially at this time of the year. Whatever happens, I wish you good luck and hope you’ll completely heal that wound.”
Stephen nodded, for he couldn’t trust his voice at the moment. When Nora reached them, he mumbled an excuse and retreated to the far end of the drawing room to recover.
His brother was right. Until he repaired the ills between him and Lynette, he couldn’t find any such contentment for himself.
But how to do that when she apparently still loathed the sight of him?