Chapter Twenty Two
Flames crackled and popped, orange sparks spitting as logs shifted in the grate.
Slouched in an armchair, Benedict stared as the fire consumed its fuel, finding a macabre kind of comfort in it. He did not turn when the door to his study opened, nor did he turn as his brother lowered himself into the chair besides his.
The fire continued to crackle and pop. “You were not at dinner,” the Earl finally said.
After the fight with El, he’d not felt like socialising with anyone, not even his family. He’d felt even less like leaving the house. Thus, he’d taken a tray here in his study, to contemplate burning logs and mope. “What do you want, Colgrove?” he said instead of answering.
He could feel his brother studying him. “We need to talk,” the Earl said. “About your use of Caraney House.”
The fire popped again. “Since when are you interested in my romantic entanglements?”
“Since they take place on my property.”
“I thought it was to be my property.”
“But it is not as yet, and I never intended it to be used as you used it. There are more appropriate venues for that.”
Benedict glanced at his brother. “Do you refer to the house on Merit Street?” Merit Street was where his brothers had taken lovers and temporary mistresses.
Cheeks ruddy, the Earl nodded sharply.
Benedict returned his gaze to the fire. “Merit Street was not fit for my purpose. Besides, I have not used it previously, why would I now?”
“Why would you use Caraney House?”
“Why would I not? It is promised to me.”
“It is also unstaffed.”
“One of its attractions.” Of a sudden, weariness crashed over him. What was he doing, taunting the Earl? Caraney House was no longer a concern. “Do not fret, brother. The house will no longer be used for that purpose.”
The room plunged into silence. “Why do you say such?” his brother finally said.
“The liaison has ended.” The flames bobbed and danced. “Are you not glad?”
“God damn it, Benedict!” He startled as his brother leapt from his chair. “What did you do?”
His gaze whipped to the Earl. This was an outsized reaction to what his brother thought a casual liaison. “Pardon?”
His brother began to pace. “I allowed you leniency, but this is intolerable.” He turned and pierced Benedict with his stare. “What did you do to upset Lady Eleanor?”
His heart stopped. “What do you mean?”
“You were relatively discreet, I will give you that. I assume this has been happening for some time, but now you say it is not? So help me God, if you have buggered this up—” The Earl’s tone turned hard. “I ask again, what did you do?”
His heart started again, this time to punch through his chest. “Colgrove, what do you mean?”
“Lady Eleanor was with you, was she not? She was the other occupant of Caraney House.”
Robbed of speech, he could only stare at his brother. How could he know that? He and El had been so careful. The only time they’d come close to being discovered was when his brother invaded Caraney House and even then there had been nothing to suggest El was there. Nothing.
“Benedict,” his brother said sternly. The Earl did not often use such a tone, but when he did, the recipient always answered.
Mutely, he nodded.
“What were you thinking?” the Earl exploded.
“Bloody hell, why do I even ask as you clearly were not thinking. Lady Eleanor is a lady, a friend to our family. You have been reckless with her reputation, your reputation, our family’s reputation.
Did you consider the scandal should this be discovered?
Did you consider what would happen to Lady Eleanor should this come to light? ”
Of course that’s what his brother worried about. The scandal. As if he did not have concern for El. As if he would ever put her in a position where she would be harmed. “We knew. We were careful because of it.”
“Not careful enough,” the Earl said. “Lady Eleanor does not know what it means to be truly shunned by all whom she knows. She has been protected, first by her own family connections and then by her connection to ours. If…whatever you two are doing is discovered, she will find such protections will disintegrate.”
Anger built in him. “She is not a child, Colgrove. I would venture she knows better than both of us what awaits her if she is deemed to have broken Society’s ridiculous rules.”
“Do you say that because you believe it or to assuage your guilt?”
That hit him straight in the chest, the unease he had been suppressing raised its head. He had allowed himself to be swept up in the exciting and pleasure, but at the back of his mind he’d known they played with fire. He’d ignored it because he wanted her so much.
“Ridiculous they may be, but they are the rules we all abide by. I will not have her reputation destroyed, and especially not by my own brother.” The Earl exhaled wearily. “I raised you to be a gentleman, Benedict, and gentlemen do not toy with unmarried ladies.”
“I am not toying with her.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I am giving her what she wants!” he shouted, his voice ringing throughout the study.
Shock drew his brother’s expression.
Lowering his voice, he continued intensely, “She wanted a lover, and what was I supposed to do? Let another man take what she had to give and hurt her? I could not do that, I could not let her—” He shoved a hand in his hair. “I am giving her what she wants.”
His brother remained silent a moment. “But is it what you want?”
No. No, it was not what he wanted, it had never been what he wanted, but what did he want?
He wanted El. Always. Forever. However, he also wanted…more.
The Earl sighed. “Do you know why I wished you to marry this season, Benedict?” he said.
“Because you wish to marry. You have always wanted it.
When you were a child, you would tell any who would listen how you would marry when you grew up, and you would always say you were to marry Lady Eleanor.
It stopped, however, when it became obvious Lady Eleanor did not wish to marry at all.
Then, you too claimed you would not wed, but I would posit her position has greatly influenced your professed lack of desire for marriage.
“You play with my children, and you spend time with them, and you give George and Amanda advice when they ask it. You want marriage and children of your own, and you want them with Lady Eleanor.”
Memories assaulted him, of every time El had said she never wished to wed.
Sometimes jokingly, sometimes more seriously, and when they had been lying in bed, her eyes wet as she’d told him of the horrors of her mother and father’s marriage.
Of how he’d contrived to be on another continent during her first season, of how he’d claimed it was for his Grand Tour but instead it had been because he did not wish to see her dancing with other men, being courted by them, choosing one of them as her husband.
How he’d delayed and delayed reading each of her letters until he could delay no longer, and the relief he had felt when she had never mentioned a suitor, had never written she was engaged.
He’d stayed away for her second season as well, and her third, but he could not force himself away for her fourth, and the relief had been sharper when he’d seen for himself how she entertained no suitor.
When she’d asked his help in deterring any who tried.
Of how he had never courted anyone, not truly, all because he had known in a place he had buried deep that for him, it was only ever El.
When she’d announced she wished a lover, of course he leapt at the chance to be hers, and he’d told himself he was happy with whatever she gave him. However, deep inside, he’d always wanted more.
Christ, his brother was right. He wanted to marry El. He’d always wanted to marry El.
Unnoticing of Benedict’s turmoil, the Earl continued, “You will propose to Lady Eleanor and you will do it immediately. Marriage would serve two purposes: circumvent any rumours and make you happy.”
Jaw working, he stared at his brother. He couldn’t bloody do that. “El has made her position quite clear.”
“Ladies can be persuaded.”
Benedict gave a humourless laugh. “That you are married to Lady C and can say that as if you truly believe it is the very height of comedy.”
“We are not talking of me and my lady. We are talking of you and yours.”
The thought stabbed his chest. El as his lady.
Christ. He wanted that, with a fervour he’d never before allowed himself to feel.
“I know her, Simon, better than I know myself.” His brother blinked.
Benedict could not even remember the last time he had used his brother’s Christian name. “She will not wed.”
“Well, you had better find a way to convince her otherwise.”
He opened his mouth to retort again, but what was the point? “It no longer matters, Colgrove. She has ended it.” Even he was surprised by the despair in his voice.
His brother fell silent. “I am sorry for you, Benedict, but it does not change things,” the Earl finally said.
“It changes everything.”
“Why has she ended it?”
He could not tell his brother of El’s fears. That was a confidence she had shared with him that he would not betray. “She is afeared of discovery.”
His brother shook his head. “As well she should be, however you know what you must do.”
“She does not wish it, Colgrove.”
“You must find a way to convince her. You have dishonoured her. You must rectify that. Lady Eleanor deserves better from you. You cannot avoid the consequences of your actions forever. This will end badly, and my hand will be forced. Let it not come to that—Do not let your life together start on such terms. A scandal and a forced marriage is not what I wish for either of you.”
His brother continued his threats. Benedict stared at him, his frustration and anger growing with every condescending word his brother spoke. “Enough!” he finally roared.
His brother stopped mid-word, shock painting his face.
“I will proceed with El as I see fit,” he continued intensely.
“You do not get to dictate this, Colgrove. If we marry, it will be because I can convince her to look past her fears. If we do not, it is no concern of yours and you will make no more ultimatums.” He shoved his hand though his hair.
‘I know El better than anyone. If there is to be hope, I will discern a way.”
His brother opened his mouth to protest.
“Further, I will be moving out of Colgrove house.”
His brother’s mouth snapped shut.
Now that he’d uttered the words, he realised how correct they felt. A sort of calm settled over him. Yes. This was right.
Faint distress cut into his brother’s face. “Benedict, I did not mean to force you from our home—”
“That is not what you said a month ago, but you are correct. I have thirty years now.” He exhaled. “I must stand on my own feet.”
His brother nodded. “Caraney House stands ready for you.”
“No.” He could not live at Caraney House. Not with memories of El everywhere. “I will find my own lodgings.”
“This is what you’ve decided?”
“It is.”
His brother’s eyes were suspiciously shiny. “You know you were always as the eldest of my children.”
His own eyes burned. “I know. But it is time I become your brother.”
The Earl nodded sharply. “Well, you have decided on your path and I will not heed you.” He hesitated. “I am proud of you.”
A lump rose in his throat.
Clapping Benedict’s shoulder awkwardly, the Earl left the study.
Alone again, he put his head in his hands.
Christ. How had this become such a mess?
He’d told El he required time to remember how to be friends, and he did, but it killed him that he’d broken his promise to her.
He hadn’t known this emotion swirled in him.
He hadn’t known that what he felt for her was love.
He’d always loved her, of course he had, but he’d thought it had been friendship.
It had always been with him, but he’d never examined it, never looked too closely.
When had it changed? Or had it always been there, hidden deep in him, patiently waiting for a time when he could express it fully.
When he could tell her he wanted everything with her.
It destroyed him she did not wish the same.
Exhaling, he pinched his eyes and then looked in surprise at the wetness on his fingers. Drying them on his breeches, he stared into the fire. He loved her enough to give her what she wanted. He would again be her friend. In time.
In the meanwhile, he would focus on removing himself from his brother’s house and creating one of his own.
Perhaps, in time, he might also find a wife and children.
Or perhaps he would not. It would be unfair to any other woman when El had ownership of his heart.
He would fill his life with his nieces and nephews, friends and family, and El.
Of course, El. He would not be completely happy, not without El as his wife, but he could perhaps be content.
In time.