Chapter Sixteen
Once Althea had finished dressing, Jack escorted her downstairs.
Much as he wanted to be with her here again, he didn’t suggest it.
He was determined not to allow his love and need for her to damage her by her association with him.
It wouldn’t be wise to talk to her about it, for he seemed incapable of thinking rationally when she looked at him so appealingly, and he was helpless to refuse her.
Instead, he told her all that had transpired since they’d last met and gently quizzed her about what sort of man her uncle was.
He resisted suggesting the man might have been more involved in her father’s murder than he’d led them to believe.
“Mama is very fond of him,” Althea said. “He was very distressed at the funeral. My father’s violent death appears to have affected him a good deal.”
“Your father and he were close?”
“As close as brothers-in-law can be,” she said thoughtfully.
“They had little in common. I was surprised when he came to see us in Paris. We were all pleased, of course, having been without family for almost a year. Mama held a soiree in his honor. She depends very much on him now, having no other male relatives.”
Althea stopped and turned to Jack in the foyer. She placed a hand on his chest, her eyes dark and anxious. “Keep safe, darling, and don’t stay away too long.”
“Althea…” He struggled to find the words to tell her how he felt.
He was so deeply in love with her yet starkly aware how bad that would be for her in the eyes of society.
She was used to a certain respect from the ton; she had no idea what it would be like to be criticized and suffer the cut direct.
He could not and would not allow her to suffer in that way.
He’d had too much of it himself in his life.
As if she’d read his thoughts, she put a finger to his lips. “I should not have said we shouldn’t be together, Jack. Of course I didn’t mean it. But allow me to judge what is right for me. I’ve never felt this way before. I want us to be together. If it is what you wish too.”
“With all my heart, darling.” Jack kissed her lingeringly and reluctantly released her as the carriage drew up outside.
Jack saw Althea into the carriage. The door closed and as she settled on the seat, she gazed at him and blew him a kiss.
He wanted to run after her, not let her go.
But heavy with disappointment, he returned to the house.
The rooms seemed oddly empty, his footsteps echoing as he made his way to the library.
Tonight, he would join friends at White’s to dine and visit the gaming tables.
It would stop him thinking too much about things he could not change.
Grant could not join them, as he had to attend Almack’s.
He was expected to dance with the new crop of the debutantes.
Grant’s company would be missed, as would Harry’s.
Jack wondered uneasily why he had not received word from him.
Harry’s moral fiber would have made him incapable of abandoning Lady Erina, so Jack expected he’d be staying with her somewhere in Ireland.
*
Erina leaped up from the bed where she’d been adjusting Harry’s sling when her father and Sir Ambrose unceremoniously entered Harry’s bedchamber. For the first time in her life, she found herself utterly speechless.
Sir Ambrose rushed over to the bed. “Son. Are you on the mend? From Lady Erina’s letter, I understood you were winged?” He gazed anxiously down at him. “The injury appears to be a good deal more serious.”
“It’s a mere nick, Father. It’s good to see you,” Harry said with remarkable aplomb.
“I am healing well, thanks to Erina’s adept ministrations.
” He glanced at Erina, who suspected her face to be blotchy.
Her skin always spotted pink and white when she was nervous.
And her father seemed to be wrestling with a strong emotion, his color high.
“It seemed the least I could do,” she said. “It was so kind of Mr. Feather to escort me to my cousin’s farm. Cathleen was in very real danger.”
“Cathleen was in danger!” Her father barked. “Obviously, you endangered yourself and poor Harold by coming here. Explain yourself! What plausible reason could you have for this insane business, my girl?”
“Erina was concerned for her cousin, and rightly so, Lord Rountree,” Harry said. “Miss Sullivan was about to be forced into a marriage with a disreputable miscreant. Thanks to your brave and compassionate daughter, the young woman’s home has been returned to her.”
Her father’s eyebrows shot up. “You came all the way to Ireland, facing scandal, to rescue a woman you’ve never met?”
“Yes, Papa. But because we have corresponded regularly, I came to know Cathleen well. And, after all, she is Mama’s niece.”
He glared at her, her gentle rebuke having failed to soften his anger. “Have Sir Ambrose and I labored under the misconception that you and Mr. Feather have eloped?”
“We are not married, Papa.” Erina glanced at Harry, wishing she’d had the matter out with him before this.
Their fathers had formed an even closer alliance, intent on seeing her and Harry tie the knot.
Now there will be no dissuading them, she thought forlornly.
Marrying a man who didn’t love her went against everything she wished for herself.
Harry was a decent man and would be kind to her, but knowing he didn’t love her, her pride would suffer. She would lose a sense of herself.
“This mishap has caused a sticky situation, I grant you, but it can soon be put right,” Harry said ambiguously.
“Oh?” her father asked. “And how might that be achieved?”
Erina tried to think of a way to stop the conversation but felt like she was sinking into deep water, far from the light.
Harry glanced at her. “I should like to speak to Erina alone, if I may.”
“I should think you’ve had more than enough time to… to… talk,” her father said, his face flushing the color of a pomegranate. “My daughter has been in your bedchamber without a chaperone, often, it seems, and for some considerable time.”
“But nothing you would censure has happened between us, Papa,” Erina rushed to explain. “Mr. Feather is a gentleman.”
“Now, Rountree, calm down or you’ll give yourself the apoplexy,” Sir Ambrose said.
“The boy has been injured and is in no shape to… Well, enough said. Let’s sit down to a meal and talk this through sensibly.
” He guided her father to the door. “We’ll just leave this to the young people to sort out.
” He raised his eyebrows at Harry. “Then we’ll know how to proceed. ”
“Well… I’m not sure that’s wise, when these two get their heads together…” Her father’s look over his shoulder at her was an odd mixture of anger, despair, and hope. “Very well. You have half an hour.”
The door closed. Erina looked at Harry wordlessly. “Come and sit down, Erina,” he said. “We don’t have long.”
She sank onto the chair beside the bed. “Harry, I know about the… I found the… the…”
He nodded. “The marriage license.”
“Yes. I didn’t mean to pry… It fell out of your pocket. But I don’t want you to feel you have to…”
Harry sighed. “Erina, surely you must have realized our remarkable journey would have to end like this.”
“‘Remarkable’?” she asked, seizing on the word.
“Yes. For me, it has been.”
“But you said you always wanted a quiet life.”
He reached out and took her hand. “Yes, after the war, I wanted to shut myself away. You’ve cured me of that wish. I’ll always be eternally grateful to you.”
“You’re grateful?” It wasn’t the emotion she sought from him, but it still gave her hope. Might he love her?
“I’ll need you to keep me up to snuff, though.
” He raised her hand to his lips. “Will you marry me, Erina? I’m aware you don’t wish to wed, but I’ll try to be a good husband.
I promise never to try to turn you into a biddable wife.
Knowing how hopeless a task that would be,” he added with a smile and a squeeze of her hand before releasing it. “And it will make two old men happy.”
He did not mention love. She sucked in a breath as her dreams of love floated away like a soap bubble.
“You are my best friend, Harry,” she said, finally accepting defeat. And it was true. He was, even though they’d known each other for such a short time. “I would be honored to marry you.”
His smile was as warm and steady as the summer sun. His brown eyes were soft yet compelling. “Then come here and kiss me.”
Her pulse racing, she bent over him. He held the back of her head with his free hand. His lips pressed lightly against hers and then he deepened the kiss. She teetered forward and placed a hand on his good shoulder to steady herself, wanting to move closer.
The door flew open. “That’s enough of that!” cried her outraged father.
“So much for giving us privacy while they dined,” she whispered, breaking away reluctantly.