Chapter 29 #2
James huffed a laugh, taking another swig from the whisky bottle. “I don’t know Warren hardly at all.”
Charles blinked. “But then—”
“I know Burke,” he added. “I know him perhaps better than I know myself. And he and Warren are cut from the same cloth. Quite literally. Both bastards, unwanted by their fathers and despised by their stepmothers. Both running about the countryside utterly wild. Both constantly courting the rules of society, bending them within an inch of breaking. It’s no wonder they’ve long been thick as thieves.
Why, it’s almost enough to make me quite jealous. ”
“Jealous, sir?”
James held his gaze, overwhelming Charles with his quiet intensity. “I am covetous too, Bray . . . though in a different way. If Burke ever gave me cause to question his loyalty, I might see my way to blaming your charismatic Mr. Warren.”
Charles could hardly believe what he was hearing. He leaned forward, elbow the table. “Are . . . are you and Burke—”
“Careful, Bray,” James warned. “I like you well enough, but I wasn’t the one who was just caught with another man’s fingers in my arse. My relationship with Burke is not up for discussion. And I will not tolerate anyone questioning my fidelity to my wife. Understood?”
A chill sank down his back as Charles nodded. “Yes, sir.”
James held his gaze for another moment. “Good. Right, well we must deal with the matter at hand.”
“The matter, sir?”
“Aye, my wife is convinced that you would make Madeline an ideal match. She wants to see Madeline married and settled by the end of the year. And, as I’ve already told you, my darling wife will get whatever she wants.”
Charles wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.
“Did Madeline make you her offer?”
He cleared his throat. “I . . . umm . . . in a roundabout sort of way, yes. I was hoping to speak to her tonight to discuss more of the . . . particulars.”
Like how she doesn’t want to share your bed or your house or your life, taunted the dark voice in his mind.
“I feel as though I am standing on a precipice with you, Charles. Your choice here will affect the lives of many, beyond just yourself and the lady in question. You cannot accept my offer to become the Vicar of Finchley because you worry you cannot avoid Warren’s pull.
Do you resist Madeline’s offer for the same reason? ”
“I . . .” Charles shook his head, shoulders slumping. “How can I trap her in a lie? How can I risk her reputation? How can I dare drag her down to my level? I am not a suitable match, no matter what the duchess may think.”
James nodded, lips pursed in contemplation.
“I love my wife, Bray. But she can be rather short-sighted . . . and bull-headed. Her opinions, once made, are nearly impossible to alter. And she thinks you are an ideal match for Madeline. So, I must put the question to you, and forgive me if it comes off as indelicate but . . . do you like women?”
Charles blinked, his mind flashing with the memory of kissing Madeline under the gazebo, feeling her lips move against his. “I . . .”
“Have you ever been with a woman?” James pressed. “Or perhaps I should ask could you ever be with a woman? Or is it only men you fancy?”
“Of course, I like women,” Charles blustered, feeling heat burn in his cheeks. “I like women, James. Jesus.”
“Could you ever see your way round to liking Madeline? I know she comes off as shy. Lord knows she can bring a conversation to a screeching halt with those awkward stares. And her looks leave a bit to be desired. To me she always looks startled—”
“She is lovely,” Charles growled, feeling his defenses rise to hear the duke speak of her so dismissively.
“She is only shy and awkward when faced with bullies who talk over her or talk down to her. In my experience, she is witty and engaging, and I’ll not hear a harsh word about her.
If she does become my wife, I will strike the man who talks ill of her, never mind if he’s a duke. ”
James held his gaze, his mouth quirking into a smile. “Good.” He reached for the whisky bottle, replacing the stopper. “And what about Warren?”
Charles was still spinning. “What about him?”
“Does Warren like women too . . . women like Madeline? Specifically Madeline,” he corrected. “That point will be rather important.”
His eyes went wide as the thread of the duke’s unspoken argument pulled taught, tugging at Charles’s mind. “I . . . I don’t know, sir.”
James nodded, rising from his chair. “Right, well you should ask him. Do it soon.”
“Why would I need to know if Warren likes Madeline?” he asked, mirroring the duke as he stood.
James stepped forward, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I want you to think very hard before you make any decisions, Bray. About the vicarage, about Madeline. I want you to sit with it all and I want you to open your mind to one idea. I call it: the possibility of more.”
Charles blinked, confused. “The possibility of more?”
James gave his shoulder a squeeze. “That’s it exactly. Think on it. Mull it. Perhaps even put it into practice. You’ll never know if you like the possibility of more so long as you continue accepting the reality of less.” He dropped his hand away. “Now, come. We’re late for dinner.”