Chapter One #2
Steppingford snapped his fingers to reengage Cecil’s attention. “How about this. Why does your wife’s scandal bother you?”
Why indeed? After tossing back the remainder of his brandy, Cecil heaved a sigh. “I suppose it means she’s moved on from me, has no more use for me as a husband, can’t stomach the sight of my scarred, twisted skin.”
“Gammon,” Nottingham said with the shake of his head. He tapped his temple with an index finger. “It’s the demons in your mind that make you think those things. I rather doubt they’re true.”
He shook his head. “But what if they are?” Ever since his injury, he feared he’d never be able to keep a woman of Emma’s caliber.
“And what if they aren’t? What if you’re now using those dark thoughts as a screen to hide behind?” There was no trace of pity in the man’s face. “Will you not even try to fight for her? After all, you separated two months into your union. That’s hardly time together to work anything out.”
Chuckles went around the group of them.
Eggleton nodded. “This is true. I’ll wager we all were still in the honeymoon phase of marriage during those months and hadn’t gotten to the work of it yet.” But he frowned at Cecil. “Do you still wish to be wed to her?”
“I couldn’t begin to say.” He bounced his gaze away from the three men who were his friends, for at the back of his warped mind, he suspected the break in their marriage was his fault…
that he hadn’t tried hard enough and had run away to hide like a coward.
“How can I ask Emma to stay married to me when I look like this?” Vaguely, he gestured to the wreck of his left side.
“It’s not fair and not what she thought she was getting when I came home from war. ”
“God, what a nodcock you are, Thornton,” Steppingford said with a shake of his head. “There are no rules for love’s capacity or even why a person loves another despite everything. Hell, I’m a prime example of that.”
Nottingham nodded. “We all are. Sometimes the bumps in your path work out and will bring you to things you have never thought possible.”
Cecil grunted. “Such as?”
The other man shrugged. “Love. Acceptance. A family to call your own.” When the men’s attention landed on him, he nodded as ruddy color snuck up his neck and into his face.
“Uh, my wife is increasing. Four months along, or so says her midwife.” Once congratulations went around their group, he held up a hand.
“I didn’t mean to announce it, but I thought it might help you, Thornton.
” His jaw worked as he thought over his next words.
“However, you are wed at the moment and will need to at the very least talk with her, to find out what she wants.”
“Nottingham is correct,” Eggleton said with a nod. “If you love her, work things out. If you don’t, you truly need cut her loose. Grant her a divorce and let her have what she doesn’t with you.”
When the truth stared at him in the face, it was quite sobering. “But—”
“No.” Eggleton shook his head. “Perhaps she’s trying to gain your attention because you didn’t come up to the mark at Christmastide. Since you weren’t home and she couldn’t very well come to the club, there was no chance of the two of you talking.”
He swallowed the curse he would have said. “It’s nearly dammed Valentine’s Day. Even the calendar mocks me, tries to remind me that romance isn’t like the storybooks and mine has been shot to hell.”
Steppingford narrowed his eyes. The ruby in the snowy folds of his cravat winked in the candlelight. “Because you’ve neglected it. There were times in my own fledgling union where I could have given up and neglected it, but I fought. For the love of my wife.”
“Bah.” His desertion had made certain the love they used to share had died long ago.
“See here, Thornton,” Eggleton said with a frown. “You let your control slip, my friend. You who prided yourself on that in the war.”
“Yes, well, that was before I became a monster, a hideous beast. My mind is scrambled most days, so even if Emma could overlook that, there are still the scars…”
“You are a coward, Cecil,” Eggleton said in a lowered voice. For long moments, the two of them stared at each other. “Nothing worth having is ever merely handed to us. We have to fight for what we want… or what we wish to keep. Trust me, I know from what I speak.”
“Perhaps.” Cecil frowned. Had the demons in his mind warped everything so badly that he no longer knew what was true and what was false?
The founder of the club’s expression softened.
“Here is my advice, for what it’s worth.
Put your house in order, Thornton, or your name will become a mockery in society.
You might not care about that right now, but eventually, you will.
Eventually, when you have children—either with your wife or with another—you’ll wish you exerted yourself now. ”
“I agree.” Nottingham nodded. “As we talk about this, perhaps Steppingford was correct all along. Your wife is baiting you, friend, testing you. She’s practically demanding that you attend to her or at least hear her out. Then you can decide—together—what happens next with your marriage.”
Steppingford nodded as well. “You can’t neglect her any longer, regardless. You married her for a reason. Find it again.”
Cecil snorted. “Yes, but I didn’t realize my mind would prove so warped and my figure so gruesome—”
“Neither are valid excuses.” Steppingford moved from his chair to stand near Cecil’s.
He dropped a supportive hand on his shoulder.
“This is your reality. Make your peace, square with it, ask her to help you, but you can’t ignore it any longer, and you can no longer hide from it. None of it makes you any less worthy.”
Every man there agreed with murmured words and nods.
“Small comfort, that.”
“Perhaps, but in everything, there is comfort. You must search harder for it.” Eggleton shrugged. Compassion shone in his eyes. “Find your peace, Thornton. If you can’t find love, you shall have that, and it’s a step in the right direction to accepting yourself as you are.”
“Thank you, friend. I shall try.” Even he could see he couldn’t continue to reside in this sort of purgatory-like place between taking up the reins of his life or finding new ones.
After that, they spent the next couple of hours playing cards and talking over current events.
Eventually, Nottingham stirred. “I must go home to my wife. I promised not to linger too long here, but it felt an age since I’ve seen everyone.”
Eggleton nodded. “We all need to make more of an effort to come together, perhaps once a month, regardless of how busy or how consumed with our wives we are,” he said as he cast a glance about the gathering.
“To that end, there is a ball tomorrow night being held at Darkemore’s home.
Perhaps your wife will also attend, Thornton.
I’d like to see you there as well, and since it’s our own Duke of Hearts, we should go anyway.
Ravenhurst is scheduled to hold a rout on Valentine’s Day, but with his wife in her confinement period, I rather doubt that will occur.
Best come together tomorrow night instead. ”
Bah. Children. Yet his chest tightened. Would that ever be his lot? “What the hell should I say to her?” Truly, he was at a loss.
“Are you mad?” Nottingham regarded him as if he’d grown two heads. “Take back the control in your union and go from there.”
In a remote portion of his brain, it made sense, yet how could he do that when he was embarrassed for running away?
Perhaps it didn’t matter. “Fine.” He nodded then stood up from his chair as the rest of them did as well.
“I shall take Emma in hand or take her to task. I don’t want any of it, but her actions are now reflecting badly on me.
While I don’t even want to be in London, I shall remain until I can iron out the wrinkles from this. ”
However, the more he thought on the issue, the more a plan, a stupid stupid plan, was forming. The old ripples of excitement climbed his spine. This could prove a wild gambit or his demise. Either way, he might feel alive again, and perhaps learn how to accept himself as he was.