Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Caspian had spent most of his adult life alone.
That was on purpose, done because he did not relish the idea of dragging some poor soul into the kind of life that someone like him could only offer.
Was he as bad as he thought? No. Even Caspian knew that.
But that did not mean there was not a chance he might become that.
Constantly, his mind returned to his father’s dire warning, that Caspian could pretend to be righteous and good, that he could act with honor and duty, but that at the end of the day, Caspian was his son, and that they were more alike than he dared to admit.
And to learn this as a truth… I would not wish that horror upon anyone.
It was because he spent his life alone that Caspian rarely had to think about anyone other than himself.
He did as he pleased, when he pleased, and always he was sure to remind himself that this was for the best. When he drank, when he gambled, only he was the one to suffer the consequences, and that was how he liked it.
Cowardly, perhaps. But for all his fears that he might turn out like his father, the fact that Caspian was so careful not to let anyone else in was surely proof that he was different?
It was easy not to think about anyone else, which is why Caspian decided to go out on his wedding night. A precedent needed to be set, and what better way to do so than to remind his new wife that, although their lives were connected, they would live them separately?
And one day, when she realizes why, she will thank me…
So it was that Caspian found himself walking into the gentleman’s club, Boodle’s Club, shortly after leaving his wife in her bedroom. The journey was spent in a state of guilt, knowing he had done the wrong thing, while trying to convince himself otherwise.
What Caspian needed was a drink, some time to think, and some time to plan how he might approach this marriage so that it did not undo him completely. Also, while he was loath to admit it, so as not to ruin the woman whom he now called his wife.
Sadly, and as should have been expected, the club was rather busy, and among those masses of drunken patrons was Caspian’s best friend. The man saw Caspian as soon as he entered and was quick to push through the throng just as Caspian sat down in a corner.
“Well, this is a rather unexpected surprise!” George William Percy, the Marquess of Cavendish, was already well into his cups; his rosy cheeks and the slight slur to his voice were proof of that.
“For you or for me?” Caspian said as he slid into the chair.
George was often described as the life of the party. He was tall in stature. His hair was golden, his face was boyish, and his eyes sparkled as if he were seeing the world for the first time. Handsome too, of course, but that was not what defined him.
Why were the two men such good friends? It was a question that Caspian often wondered about.
Their personalities could not have been more different, but perhaps that was the point.
George was the one man whom Caspian could talk to about anything, and George was the one man who would never judge him for it.
“You know, I am angry with you.” George put his hands on his hips. “Perhaps even furious.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I am here,” he said. “And only because I was not invited to your wedding today, nor was I invited to the breakfast! And here I thought that you and I were friends, Caspian. Why, I have half a mind to turn around and walk away.”
Caspian rolled his eyes. “Do not let me stop you.”
“Ha!” George laughed. “If it were anyone else, I might have suspected as much. But you forget how well I know you—so well, in fact, that I am aware of exactly why my invitation never arrived.” He swayed slightly.
“It was a wedding, yes, but one that was meant to be ignored… forgotten… treated as if it did not matter. Not inviting me was essentially a way of announcing that such vows were insignificant, not worth the fuss and scrutiny of our peers. Tell me I am wrong!”
Despite his mood, Caspian could not help but smile.
George was correct, of course, because Caspian was set on treating his marriage as nothing more than a business deal. Inviting friends to make it seem like more than it was would only spark hope, and such things were exactly what Caspian needed to avoid.
And while he told himself it was for his own benefit, to make things easier, deep down he knew too that he did it for Arabella.
“Perceptive as always,” Caspian said.
“I knew it.” George scoffed as he slid into the chair across from Caspian.
“Truly, when I heard that you were getting married, I thought that a joke was being played on me! Not Caspian, I said. Not a man who has told me a million times that he will never wed. He hates the concept as the sun hates the night’s sky. ”
“And I still do,” Caspian said. “Nothing has changed in that regard.”
“Says the man who was just married today. Speaking of which…” George looked around the bustling club. “What on earth are you doing here? Ought you not be at home with your wife?”
“That I am here is proof of my feelings,” Caspian said. “This is not a traditional marriage, George, nor do I intend to treat it as such. It is a marriage of convenience.”
“Convenient for whom?” George grinned across the table.
Caspian glared in warning. “It is for Timothy for whom I do this. The boy needs a mother, and it behooves me to do right by the child. Whether I want to or not.”
“A mother…” His friend blinked. “Be that as it may, who is she whom you now call your wife? I heard a name, but it was not one that you would have been acquainted with. Where did she come from? How did this happen?”
“Does it matter?” Caspian sighed. “It is done now, so let us leave the past where it is.”
“The past?” George snorted. “Coming from you? A man who lives his life as if the past controls his future? Very rich.”
“Careful now,” Caspian growled. “You know how my mood sours when my father is mentioned.”
“Just a comment.” George held his hands out in surrender. “I just wish to know what is going on.”
There was no point in trying to change the subject because when George had the bit between his teeth, he was like a bull charging down a red flag.
Besides, Caspian realized at that moment that he wanted to tell his friend what had happened.
Still, he wrestled with his conscience, unsure if he had made the right decision, and unaware of what to do next.
If his path was the right one, or if he was being hopelessly optimistic, as well as classically cynical.
With a deep sigh of regret, Caspian told his friend everything.
How he found Miss Witherington alone in a chapel. How her father had used the situation to try to force him to marry her. How Caspian had almost refused, only to realize that fate had intercepted and presented him with a chance that he ought to take while he could.
He chose to leave out the fact that he had felt sorry for Miss Witherington, how he had seen a woman trapped by her father, one who needed saving when no one else could step in for her. As far as his friend was concerned, the marriage was for one reason only: Timothy.
“And there you have it,” Caspian finished. “That is the full extent of it. The funny thing is, I had just earlier realized that I needed to marry anyhow, for Timothy’s sake. So, when the opportunity came along…” He shrugged. “I realized I would be a fool to refuse it.”
George watched him with a look of curiosity, as well as amusement. His blue eyes sparkled with humor, and then a delighted chuckle escaped his lips.
“That is quite the tale,” he said. “Although I suspect it is not all of it.”
“What do you mean?” Caspian stiffened.
“I have no doubt that you married for Timothy’s sake,” George agreed.
“Where I become stuck is another part of the story…” He bit his tongue.
“The fact is, you could have anyone you desire, Caspian. You are a duke! Yes, your reputation might be a little rotten, but there is not a father who would deny you the hand of his daughter.”
“Your point?”
“Why this one?” George demanded. “Yes, yes, you mentioned her father, the blackmail, the circumstance. But let us be real here, Caspian. I know you. I know how you think. Just as I know that a threat like that is just as likely to see you dig in your heels and refuse to be manipulated.”
“I was doing the right thing,” Caspian said through gritted teeth.
“Which is not like you at all,” George countered. “Has your whole life not been an effort to do the opposite of what is expected? And now, the moment you see a woman in need…” He trailed off, and his eyes took on a look of mischief. “Oh, now I see. Oh yes,” he giggled. “Now it all makes sense.”
“What?” Caspian demanded. “What makes sense?”
“Caspian…” George giggled again. “Why did you not just say so? You like this woman. I can see it.”
“Do not be absurd!”
“You do.” George folded his hands on the table and nodded firmly, sure to drop the humor from his tone. “You will deny it, you will refuse it, but I see it clearly. And truly, it is the only thing that makes sense.”
Caspian was sure to glare a warning of dismissal at his friend. He was sure to do everything within his power to present a look that refuted the claim. He needed to, not just so his friend would realize how ridiculous he sounded, but so that Caspian might accept such a refutation himself.
If only a simple look, a simple denial, was enough to bury my feelings and remove those thoughts that have persisted nonstop since the moment I entered that chapel.
There were many reasons that Caspian was having second thoughts about this marriage, determined to keep his wife at arm’s length as he had done.
Yes, his father and his fear of what he might become were a part of it.
But it was a small part, and not nearly as worrying as the one that had haunted him daily.
Even as he tried to push such images away… Arabella still found her way into his thoughts.
Caspian could still remember the first time he had seen her.
The flaming red of her hair. Those big blue eyes, glistening with tears, but somehow still holding within them a quiet strength.
She was trapped in a life she did not want; she was a prisoner to her father, but that did not make her weak or helpless. In fact, it was the complete opposite.
She wanted to be free; she took her chance when she saw it, and Caspian doubted that a marriage to her would be easy.
That, as much as anything, was why this marriage was so dangerous. Caspian could have married someone else, a subservient wife to do as she was told and not cause trouble. But he had chosen one who he was certain would push him, would test him, and would not allow him to do as he pleased.
Why on earth did I make such a decision? Am I really that foolish?
He knew why. As did George. Yes, there was honor. Yes, there was duty. Yes, there was that desire to do something good for a change! But that told only half the picture, and the other half was what terrified Caspian to his core.
Not that he would admit such a thing. Not that he intended to pursue those feelings that stirred. His course was clear: to keep his distance, let Arabella know he wanted nothing more from her than help with Timothy, and pray she did not test the limits of his control.
“Are you done?” Caspian snarled at his friend. “Or do you have more jokes to make?”
“Who said I am joking?” George pouted. “While you might think that I am taking pleasure in your discomfort, the complete opposite is true. Caspian…” His expression softened, and his tone turned pitiful.
“I do only ever want the best for you, and while you might not see it, I believe this marriage is just that.”
“It is nothing,” Caspian snapped. “Simply convenience for Timothy.”
“Tell yourself as much,” his friend sighed. “I just pray that you are not nearly as stubborn as….” He laughed and shook his head. “As stubborn as I know you to be. In this instance, I pray that I do not know you nearly half as well as I claim.”