Chapter 24
Ben and Violet stayed in London another three days before deciding they’d return to Aldercombe on the morrow.
Ben’s ribs—which he had vague, rueful recollections of getting kicked in a drunken brawl—needed time to heal before he was jostled for hours in a swaying carriage.
He also required a visit to the optician to have his spectacles repaired.
As for Violet, she grudgingly went to Bond Street and ordered a dress for her sister’s betrothal ball—an event she’d told him about with a persistent scowl, although they both tried not to dwell on the conflicts their future brother-in-law was apt to cause.
Instead, they devoted all their spare time outside their errands to his family, allowing Violet to get to know them better.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, she got along with everyone—even his dragon of a grandmother—appearing equally at ease in the Rockliffe House drawing room as in the printshop on Fleet Street when he brought her for a tour.
They spent their final night in town having dinner at the terrace house on Buckingham Street with his mother, stepfather, and two half-brothers.
It was a merry affair filled with lively conversation and ample food—his mother even ordered a tray of his favorite sweets from Gunter’s—and they all assembled in the sitting room afterward with high spirits and full stomachs.
Ben sat in an armchair leafing through his childhood copy of Robinson Crusoe, half-listening to his mother ask Jeremy’s opinion of the sketch she worked on and half-listening to Violet and his brothers engage in a zealous game of spillikins.
He’d found it difficult, after his unhinged escapade, to look any of them in the eye.
However, no one had been angry or disdainful upon seeing him.
If anything, they’d greeted him with warmth and expressed gladness for the unexpected visit.
And if they could all forgive him for his lapse in judgment and control, he’d try very hard to forgive himself, too.
He flipped the page of his book, glancing up when Timothy shouted eagerly, waving a stick above his head, and Violet gave a delighted laugh.
However, instead of stopping to gaze at her head of golden curls and her soft profile illuminated by candlelight, his eyes caught motion in the doorway and froze.
Alex was here. Alex, with their father’s wild russet curls and blue eyes. With a crooked cravat and navy coat.
Ben swallowed, his throat suddenly tight.
His brother’s absence had been his one lingering point of remorse over the past few days.
His mother had been frustratingly vague about it, assuring him Alex was well but that he’d recently taken his own lodgings and had much to occupy him.
And as much as the matter plagued him, Ben hadn’t pushed it, accepting that Alex would need time to forgive him for the things he’d said.
Except Alex was here and meeting his gaze, putting a finger to his lips to request silence.
For a moment, they simply studied each other, as if they were each an exhibit in a museum that neither knew how to decipher. But then, Alex mouthed a question: Might we speak alone?
Wordlessly, Ben set down his book and slipped from the chair, undetected by the engrossed spillikins players on the floor near him.
He crept to the doorway, giving his brother a brisk nod, glancing at the staircase.
And in a silent agreement, they made their way up to the top floor, to the bedroom they’d shared before their departure to Eton and then Cambridge.
Their mother and stepfather had left it untouched, so it still contained a scattering of Ben’s old books. Alex’s journals rested upon the small desk. Even the blanket Achilles used for a bed remained folded on the floor.
It was in this familiar space that they faced each other once more, Alex pacing a few times before stilling. Looking at him with hangdog eyes. “I was afraid you wouldn’t consent to see me.”
Ben took a rigid step closer to him and unclamped his jaw to let the truth come out. “I feared the same,” he said gruffly.
Alex tilted his head; then, his whole body loosened with an audible rush of breath.
“Jesus, Ben, I’m sorry. You said you didn’t want to hear it, but I need to tell you all the same.
I know you gave up Cambridge for me, and I was wrong to be wasteful of your sacrifice.
But you have to understand: I didn’t ask you to do it.
I didn’t want you to do it. I attended Cambridge because apparently, that’s what marquess’s nephews are supposed to do, but while I did try, it never felt right, and I—”
“Stop fretting.” Ben held up a hand, for his brother had begun pacing again, his words getting faster with every step he took. “I know you disliked Cambridge. Consider what I did my misguided attempt to keep you out of trouble.”
He sighed from deep in his chest—God, why did he have so much fondness for a brother so exasperating?
—and remembered Violet’s words and the conclusions he’d drawn as a result.
“You’re capable of making your own choices, and it’s not my place to interfere.
My only duty is supporting you in whatever path you decide to take and lending a helping hand whenever you may need it. ”
Alex’s mouth opened, his eyes growing large. Twinkling in the dimness.
And suddenly, he was launching himself at Ben, nearly knocking him over as he wrapped his arms around Ben’s shoulders in a rough embrace. “Thank you, brother,” Alex said against his coat. “Thank you so damn much.”
Ben regained his footing, his body stiff from the unexpected assault. After an instant, though, his motionless arms unclenched from his sides to circle Alex’s back and give it an affectionate thump. “Clodpate,” he grumbled, holding his brother tight for just a few seconds longer.
Alex chuckled as they broke apart, then drooped down to the edge of his old bed, pressing his hands into the counterpane.
“I didn’t publish the last pamphlet for my own benefit, you know.
If it makes any difference.” He shrugged, but his eyes quickly became solemn.
Intent. “I’m telling you this because I trust you with my life.
And because you’re a married man now, so perhaps you’ll understand that the pamphlet …
it was authored by someone else. Someone who needed my help in distributing it. Someone I care for deeply.”
“What?” Ben’s jaw dropped close to his boots, his head spinning as he sank to his own bed across from his brother’s. His shock couldn’t have been any greater had Alex grown wings and flown out the window.
“Please appreciate that I’m not at liberty to disclose further details,” Alex rushed to say. “Only that I wouldn’t have done it were the lady not in dire straits.”
The … the lady? Ben continued gaping nonsensically, his brain not yet acclimated to this rapid turn of events. Was Alex trying to say … Christ, was Alex in love?
Ben took a breath so he could speak, although his brother’s withering glance made the words die on his tongue. Right. No further details. However, Alex had to know he couldn’t drop that sort of revelation without evoking at least a modicum—but more accurately, a maelstrom—of curiosity.
That type of love is a powerful thing. Violet’s words came back to him, and he was nearly certain his quirking lips had turned up in a grin.
Yes, Alex would forever have the love and support of his family.
However, what if there was also a different sort of affection at work?
The sort that would fulfill him and center him no matter what challenges came his way.
Ben was learning a thing or two about that himself.
“Thank goodness.” The low voice from the doorway cut into his musings, and he turned to find his mother standing there, gazing upon the scene with a wry smile.
“I’m glad to see you two together like this, peacefully.
Especially because I no longer have the physical ability to separate your squabbles as I did when you were children. ”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Alex rose from the bed and demurely dipped his chin, the very picture of civility. “We never gave you even a moment’s trouble in all our lives.”
“Ha!” Their mother rolled her eyes, stepping into the room to give him a swat on the arm. Yet they all grinned at each other, Ben’s chest lighter than it had been in a long time.
“Well, Ben?” Alex lingered near the doorway with their mother, shooting him an expectant look. “Are you going to introduce me to your wife?”
Yes, it was high time they returned to the sitting room so he could do that. Was it absurd that in the span of minutes, he’d already begun missing the sight of her curls, the sound of her laugh?
Just as he moved to push off the bed, though, his mother rushed toward him, placing a hand upon his shoulder.
“Actually …” She gazed at him with pensive eyes.
“Would you mind very much if Jeremy and your brothers saw to the introduction? I was hoping we could have a private moment to speak, Ben, while things are quiet.”
Ah. He should have known this was coming.
Their conversations over the past few days had been almost too easy, for she’d been so concerned about his well-being that she hadn’t questioned him on his drunken antics or his precipitous marriage.
However, those matters couldn’t remain unspoken forever.
After everything he’d done, he owed her whatever explanations she sought.
He nodded, repositioning himself against the mattress, and she sank down beside him, telling Alex they’d see him in a moment. Alex flashed them a good-natured grin before spinning away, and together, they watched his retreat, waiting as his footsteps faded down the stairs.