Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Adrian sipped his brandy but declined the cheroot that was offered.
Slumped in his chair, his chin tucked down to his chest and a scowl on his face, it would have been perfectly obvious to anyone that he was in a foul mood.
While he was rarely at the club so early in the evening, he was normally talkative, friendly, engaging while there.
On that particular evening, he was none of those things.
Instead, he sat brooding in his usual leather chair at the club where both he and Julien were members.
But he had no wish to speak to Julien at that moment as his friend was entirely too close to the matter to offer any useful guidance.
He’d either warn him off entirely or give him full support.
But what he really needed was someone completely removed from his situation to tell him what he ought to do.
And that guidance certainly needed to come from without because within he was naught but a muddle.
But there was a sense of urgency, a need to do something before it was too late.
He’d never seen Eleanor actually entertain any of the men who’d expressed interest in her in the past. He’d never once considered that she might actually marry someone.
Now, he was no longer certain. And that uncertainty left him rocked to the core.
“You’re looking rather gloomy tonight, Grant.”
Adrian looked up to see Alexander Hartwick taking the chair across from him.
Tall and lean, Hartwick had a hawkish look about him that belied his nature.
He was a good sort. They’d gone to school together but weren’t especially close, but he was the kind of fellow that, if you trusted him with a secret, he’d take it to the grave.
In short, he was perfect. The external guidance he wished for could not possibly come from a better source.
“A bit preoccupied with a problem, is all,” Adrian explained cautiously, not quite sure how to proceed with his questions. “In fact, I was just thinking that I needed guidance on a matter of particular importance.”
“Oh?”
Adrian hesitated for just a moment, but then ultimately, went on to ask the questions that would determine the course his future would take. Might take. After all, it wasn’t entirely up to him. “You’re married aren’t you, Hartwick?”
Hartwick nodded. A satisfied smile curved his lips, indicating that he was quite satisfied with the situation. “For seven years now. Considering a matrimonial endeavor, are you?”
He was not yet certain on the matter, so he evaded the question and asked something far too personal for the casual sort of friendly acquaintanceship that existed between them. “Do you ever regret it?”
Hartwick laughed. Loudly and for far longer than necessary.
“What man doesn’t from time to time? On occasion, yes.
I think life might be more simple as a bachelor.
But it would be terribly lonely, I think.
And having been with my wife for seven years now, I can attest to the fact that I was not cut out for the lonely life of endless bachelorhood.
For as much as I may have the occasional regret, more often than not I’m simply grateful she tolerates me.
They put up with a great deal from us, you know?
Is the lady in question amenable to the notion of marriage? ”
“Not a clue,” Adrian admitted, hating that he sounded like some callow youth, too terrified to approach a woman. “I haven’t yet said anything to her about it. How exactly does one bring up a subject such as that?”
“It’s not a subject, you dolt. It’s a question. And a simple one. It helps if you’re holding a ring when you ask it,” Hartwick pointed out with a note of compassion. “You really are twisted up in knots about this!”
Adrian sighed. “I just wish I could feel certain which course of action to take.”
Hartwick made a slight humming sound as he considered the matter, before stating, “Surely during your courtship she’s given some indication of whether a proposal would be welcome.”
Adrian shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not unlike when he’d been a boy in trouble at school. “I’m not courting her. Not yet. And I may never. I’ve honestly no idea. I cannot decide whether or not the risk is too great.”
Hartwick studied him for another moment, then leaned forward. Resting his elbows on his knees, he offered sage advice. “You’re asking the wrong question, Grant. You don’t ask if it’s worth the risk. You must ask yourself if she’s worth it… Is she?”
A hundred times over. A thousand. There was no one more deserving and of greater worth than Eleanor was.
That was evident to him in the fact that every woman he’d ever been introduced to had been compared to her and found wanting.
Ultimately, his only real issue with any of the young women that had been thrust at him by their marriage minded mamas, was that they simply were not Eleanor.
But Marklynne had seen it. He’d seen it instantly and had acted accordinglt which now prompted Adrian’s current dilemma.
“What if I’m too late? What if someone else has already expressed interest and she has welcomed that interest? ”
Hartwick shrugged. “She is not married yet, so hope is not entirely lost. And, I presume, no formal announcement has been made?”
“No… Not as of yet.” Though how long would he have before decisive action was taken?
“If you do nothing and she marries another, then she’s lost to you forever.
And all you’ll have to keep you company is your curiosity about what might have been.
But if you ask her and she says no, you’ll be just as alone, but not plagued by regrets of what you didn’t do.
The real question, Grant, is which of those things will be the easiest for you to live with? ”
“If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t need your bloody guidance!”
Hartwick ducked his head to hide his laughter. “Then answer me this… how will you feel if she says yes?”
A dozen possible emotions flickered through his mind. Hope, happiness, relief, rightness—to name a few.
“Damn you, Hartwick. Why are you so bloody sensible about all this?” Adrian groused, but it was good natured grousing.
Hartwick’s arrival was like divine intervention.
He’d stripped away the dithering and doubt and left only the truly important question behind.
To act or not to act was his choice, but it was a choice he’d simply have to live with.
And so would Eleanor. Marklynne was not the man for her.
Even if she refused him, he knew that Marklynne was all wrong for Eleanor.
“You are in love with this mystery woman.”
“I don’t know,” Adrian replied.
“That wasn’t a question, Grant. It was an observation. If you were not, you would not be in such a state of confusion and agitation about the matter,” Hartwick pointed out.
The man made it all sound so simple. And perhaps it was. Perhaps the complications were products of his own imagination. Perhaps he’d benefit from letting his fear of change, of altering his well ordered life, keep him from seizing a chance at true happiness.
“The influence of a good woman in your life will improve it and by extension, improve you. Not me, of course. I was already perfect,” Hartwick boasted jokingly.
Then, with a quicksilver change into sincere advisor, he added, “Go talk to the girl’s family and tell them you wish to court her.
The worst they can do is refuse you. The worst she can do is refuse you.
I’d much rather know than wonder infinitely. ”
There was no way to ask the other part of the question that plagued him.
For all of his life, from boyhood on, Julien and Eleanor had been the only family he’d known.
His own parents had died when he was so young that he barely remembered them.
The uncle that had raised him had no use for children and would have left him moldering at school through every holiday.
But the Harcourt’s had taken him in. And when their parents had died, he’d mourned them alongside both Julien and Eleanor.
What would this do to his friendship with Julien?
Would changing his relationship with Eleanor mean sacrificing his friendship with her brother?
Or would Julien welcome the opportunity for them to be brothers in truth?
He couldn’t fathom what that loss would be like.
But he couldn’t ask Hartwick that question without giving away the identity of the woman in question, and he was enough of a gentleman not to be bandying Eleanor’s name about in the club where anyone might hear it.
He’d have gladly died before hurting her in anyway.
But that meant speaking to Julien privately.
And there was only one place to do that.
The Ensley’s soiree was scheduled for that night.
The sooner he did this, the sooner he could put an end to at least a few of his most plaguing questions.
It would be full of dreadful music and equally dreadful people, but they were all duty bound to attend having long been acquainted with one another.
If by chance she said yes— he didn’t dare think about it.
It was one thing to consider his actions.
It was quite another to paint the picture of that happy ending for them and have it wiped away.
A thought that put him squarely back to the point from whence he started.
Plagued by questions that would only be answered if he acted instead of vacillating impotently, Adrian tossed back his brandy and rose, purpose evident in every motion. “Ensley’s tonight?”
Hartwick grimaced as he nodded, an indication that the miserable nature of the Ensley’s soirees was well known and agreed upon y one and all.
“Whether I wish to or not… Mrs. Ensley is a cousin to my wife. That’s the one unfortunate aspect of being married.
Her family will become yours for good or ill. ”