Chapter 10
Lord Worthington's eyes widened. "You refused her?"
Josiah turned from the window of his sitting room, his reflection disappearing from the darkening glass.
Worthington had arrived an hour ago to dress for the evening's soiree, only to find Josiah still in his shirtsleeves with no apparent intention of going anywhere.
It had taken very little prompting for the whole of it to come spilling out --- the bookshop, Clara's explanation, her plea for them to investigate together, and his own wretched, cowardly response.
"No, I did not refuse her." Josiah paced the length of the room, aware of the shame which bit at him. "I only stated the obvious: our search for the truth might not bring us any sort of genuine happiness."
"And you think that is a good enough reason to set aside all that you feel for her and all that you have shared?"
The question was one that Josiah could not answer.
The moment he had seen Lady Clara walk out of the bookshop, he had been filled with so many doubts about his response and lost in utter confusion.
He had come home and sat in this very room for hours, turning her words over and over in his mind, and had arrived at precisely nothing.
"You do not know what is best to do," his friend said, seeming to be able to read Josiah's thoughts. "You are afraid."
"Afraid?" Josiah stopped pacing and snapped back, his head lifting sharply. "There is no fear in me!"
"Yes, there is." Lord Worthington leaned back in the armchair, a glass of brandy resting on his knee, his tone calm but his words determined.
"You are terribly afraid that, if you permit yourself to pursue an answer to this, you will end up with a heart broken twice over.
To spare yourself the potential pain, you have decided to close yourself up to the idea she suggested. Is that not so?"
Josiah scowled.
"But there is another consideration, is there not?" Lord Worthington, ignoring Josiah's dark look, continued on. "There is the possibility that your heart may recover and that, in seeking answers, you find yourself free to take her into your arms again."
"That is only a faint possibility and not one that I am willing to open myself up to," Josiah responded, still scowling, his hands gripping the back of a chair. "There is so little hope that ---"
"Ah, but there is hope nonetheless." Lord Worthington tilted his head, his eyebrow lifting. "Or mayhap you did not ever love her as much as you believe. Mayhap there is no great strength of feeling in your heart --- mayhap there never truly was."
Anger balled in Josiah's stomach and he rounded on his friend, closing the distance between them in two strides, his eyes narrowing and his jaw tight.
"I have never felt anything akin to what came upon me the moment I set eyes upon Lady Clara," he hissed as Lord Worthington held his gaze without flinching.
"I have never lost it either. Instead, it has grown and grown and grown until it fills every part of me.
I cannot sleep without her in my dreams. I cannot think without her being present in my mind.
I have tried everything to remove her from my heart and mind but still, she lingers.
Do not think to suggest that I did not ever love her, Worthington.
I love her still and I love her with such a fierceness, I fear it will never leave me. Not until the day I die."
The words rang in the quiet of the room. No crowd to swallow them, no laughter or conversation to soften their edges. Just the crackle of the fire and the truth, laid bare between two friends.
"It seems to me that this lady and the love you have for her would be worth the risk.
" When he finally spoke, Lord Worthington's voice was low and quiet but a tiny smile touched the edges of his mouth.
"You have spoken of a love that has settled into your very bones, my friend.
I do not doubt your love for her. I am only surprised that you do not think it worth the fight. "
"I do think it worth the fight," Josiah responded, his anger still burning in him. "There should be no question there! Why do you ---" He stopped dead, realizing not only what his friend had been doing by speaking to him so but also the responses that had come from his lips with such fierceness.
"You see?" Lord Worthington's lips tipped upwards. "You have spoken of what is in your heart. That is your decision, already made for you."
Josiah swallowed tightly, the knot in his throat growing steadily as he looked into his friend's face and saw nothing but understanding there.
The anger that had exploded through him only a few moments ago was quickly gone, replaced with embarrassment and shame.
He ducked his head, rubbing one hand over the back of his neck, trying to find the words to apologise. "I --- I did not mean to ---"
"Please." Lord Worthington shook his head. "There is no need. I want to help you, my friend, truly. You have a chance for happiness! Yes, there may be further pain but would you not regret it forever if you set yourself against this?"
"Yes," Josiah admitted, bluntly. "I would."
"Then go to her. Tell her that you want to search for answers, no matter the risk."
Josiah took in a breath and steadied himself. "I am unable to speak with her alone. I cannot even go near to her in a group for fear that her brother will see and pull us back from each other. He has made it quite clear that she will face severe consequences if she is seen in my company."
"Then I will go."
Josiah shook his head. "No. If Tyrone sees you approach her on my behalf, he may well suspect what is happening. Clara has told me he is watchful --- suspicious of everything."
Lord Worthington considered this, swirling the brandy in his glass. "Then we must hope the evening provides an opportunity. We are to attend Lady Thornton's soiree tonight, are we not? Gardens, moonlight, a crush of people --- it is far easier to slip away at such events than at a ball."
Josiah looked down at his shirtsleeves, then at his friend's already immaculate evening dress. "I had not intended to go."
"Of course you hadn't." Worthington rose and set down his glass with a decisive click. "But you are going. Get dressed, Rutland. Your lady is waiting for an answer and you are not going to give it to her from your armchair."
---
Lady Alice had been quite correct. The moonlight dancing on the water was very beautiful indeed. Lord Worthington stood a few paces back, allowing Josiah to stay by the pond alone. He licked his lips, his hands going behind his back as he waited.
"Rutland."
He turned, seeing nothing but shadows.
"Thank you for coming. I cannot step out for fear of being seen. My brother is in the gardens also but ---"
"Where are you?" He cared nothing for her brother, his desire to convey to her his change of heart taking a hold of him.
"Oh, Clara, I was so very wrong to dismiss your hopes of finding the truth.
I am sorry for being so foolish in my response to you.
I want nothing more than to try to find out the truth.
If there is any hope of our connection being restored, then I cannot help but pursue it. My heart demands it."
There came a short silence. Josiah, his heart pounding, waited in the darkness.
"Oh, Rutland!"
She was there beside him the next moment, her hand on his and the other on his shoulder.
Josiah breathed her in, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist, pulling her close to him as his eyes closed.
It felt as if, in that single moment, all the wounds from the last few months were instantly healed, his peace returning to him and filling him completely.
"I am sorry, Clara," he murmured, fully aware that they could not be long, that they only had a few moments. "I should not have turned back from you as I did. I should not have pushed you back. I love you still."
"And I love you."
Josiah made to lower his head and kiss her but a quiet cough from nearby had her pushing back from him. He caught her fingers and would not release them, despite the warning from either Lord Worthington or Lady Alice. "Clara. What can we do? What can I do that would help us find answers?"
"My brother wrote to me --- my younger brother, Thomas." Her fingers tightened on his. "My elder brother has been in contact with him, even though he told me that he did not know where Thomas was."
Josiah frowned. "Why would he hide that from you?"
"I do not know," Clara responded, her voice a little breathless.
"Oh, Rutland, I had to spoil Thomas's letter before I could finish reading it --- Tyrone came into the room and wanted to know who had written to me --- but what I did read spoke of a deep shame that came to our family.
That this was the reason for the ending of our connection.
" She paused, and when she spoke again there was an urgency in her voice that had not been there before.
"Thomas also wrote of a lady --- someone he had begun to think well of.
He said our brother's actions destroyed any hope before it could take root, and that she has suffered for it more than Thomas himself. "
Josiah's frown deepened. "Thomas had an attachment? To whom?"
"He did not say. But he warned me to be careful of Tyrone.
He wrote that David is afraid --- and that afraid men are dangerous.
" Her fingers trembled in his. "There was a name in the letter, Rutland.
Most of it was ruined by the tea but Alice and I could make out one word.
Jennings." She drew a breath. "And I have heard that name before.
At the ball, only days ago --- someone mentioned the Jennings family in passing and my brother went white as chalk.
He could barely speak. He was terrified, Rutland. "
"Jennings." The name landed with a weight Josiah had not expected. "My aunt's companion is a Miss Jennings."
Clara snatched in a breath. "Your aunt's companion?"
"She came to stay with us before Christmas --- my aunt, Lady Prentis, and my three cousins.
Miss Jennings was part of their household.
" He paused, the pieces turning in his mind.
"She took her leave before Christmas Day.
I thought nothing of it at the time --- she was a companion, not family, and I did not question her departure.
But if Thomas spoke of a lady who suffered, and if the name in his letter was Jennings ---"
"Clara? Where are you?"
She let out a yelp of surprise and pulled her hand back. "My brother!"
"I will write to you."
"No, no." Her voice was distant now, grass rustling as she moved away. "Write to Alice. She will share all with me. Write soon, I beg you."
She was gone then. Josiah stood in the darkness, his arms still warm where she had been, his chest aching with the loss of her. Pushing his hands through his hair, he let out a slow breath just as Lord Worthington's voice reached his ears.
"Hurry now. Lord Tyrone is nearby."
Josiah nodded and moved quickly, past the fountain and across to the far side of the garden. Lord Worthington followed close behind. He stumbled, not seeing where he was going in the darkness.
"Careful now." Lord Worthington muttered, as Josiah eventually found himself back on a path that led through the garden. "You must be careful not to be seen, I think. We cannot raise Lord Tyrone's suspicions."
Josiah nodded, then blew out a long breath, a smile quickly spreading across his face. "You cannot know the joy I feel."
Lord Worthington chuckled. "It seems that your decision to pursue the truth has brought you great happiness, yes?"
"Indeed," Josiah answered. "But I think I must ask for your help with all of this, my friend. If I am to gain answers whilst staying back from Lady Clara, then we will both need our friends to come about us."
"You did not even need to ask," Lord Worthington said, putting one hand on Josiah's shoulder. "As I have said, I want to see you happy --- both of you. Whatever it is you require of me to do, I will do it."
"I thank you." Josiah reached out and shook his friend's hand. "I am grateful, truly." His brow furrowed. "I must find out more about Miss Jennings."
His friend looked back at him, confused. "Miss Jennings?"
"My aunt's companion," Josiah explained, as they slowly began to meander back towards the house.
He gave Worthington the essentials --- Miss Jennings's departure before Christmas, the name in Thomas's letter, Tyrone's terror at the ball.
"There is a connection here, Worthington. I am certain of it."
"Then we had best find it," Lord Worthington said, firmly. "And quickly, before Lord Tyrone discovers what you are about."