Chapter 12
Crispin had, over the years, kept mistresses, had liaisons, drank gin, gone slumming in the East End, gambled, raced horses, and spent a great deal of time with pistol and rapier. He lived the life of a gentleman of fashion, just as he should, but he’d had more revelations about his life in the last forty-eight hours than he had in the entirety of his existence.
Had he been sleeping his entire life?
After exposure to Hermia and her family, he was fairly certain that not only had he been sleeping, but he had also been near death. It was strange to suddenly feel as if he had been jolted awake. First by the duke, who had insinuated that he had basically done nothing with his life. The firing off of a pistol had been quite a wake-up. And then… Then there had been Hermia’s kiss.
He had dared to do it. He’d kissed many a young lady, though no debutantes. He did not wish to ruin anyone, but he had a great deal of intimate experience over the years.
This kiss had been a revelation. It had shaken him to his very core, and he had loved every moment of it. For it had made him feel as if he was coming totally and completely undone, as if he could unravel at any particular moment. It had been a rather marvelous sensation because he had been certain that if he did come apart, he would come back together as an entirely different person. They had broken it off before such a thing could be achieved.
His mother bounded down the coach steps, ranting and growling her displeasure as she headed for the house. “You cannot get out of it now,” she announced, throwing her gloves at the butler as they headed into the house. “It is a horrible thing. I cannot believe you have done this to us, Crispin.”
He followed her, barely listening.
All his life, he had followed her and not paid attention to her shouting, as much as possible. It was the only way to get on with life, and he’d felt it was his duty to take her anger, her fury, and her disappointment.
After all, she was his mother, and she’d had so many disappointments.
Life had pulled her apart but never let her come back together. There were moments he could recall, when he was very small, when she had seemed different—not broken. But they seemed almost a dream now, as if he had imagined them.
In the face of her pale visage now, with her pinched lips and her fury, he rather thought that he had imagined those gentle memories.
It was heartbreaking because, if he was honest, he had always hoped for a mother rather like the duchess, Hermia’s mother. A mother who was warm, loving, and caring.
And yet he would never have that, and he would have to make peace with that.
He was intensely glad that Hermia, on the other hand, had had it. No doubt she would be an excellent mother to their children, and he would be very grateful. She had seemed to think that he would be afraid that their children would be mad, just like her family. He hoped to God they would. Then perhaps his children would be able to escape the torment he had known all his life.
“Mama, you know that I cannot end it,” he stated.
“Of course I know,” she gritted, whirling upon him, her skirt spinning about her legs.
His sister lingered just a few feet behind, a shadow.
His mother drew up, her face white and her eyes crackling. “I shall never forgive you for doing this. Your brother would never have—”
“I know my brother would never have,” he broke in, unable to bear her censure. “But the truth is, Mama, you don’t actually know what he would’ve done because he never lived to do it.”
She blanched, and immediately he felt deep regret for what he had said. Crispin swallowed and managed, “I am doing the very best I can, Mama, for myself and for this family.”
“Well, it’s not enough,” she hissed, and she twisted around and marched up the stairs, leaving him there. Alone. So very alone.
He stood stock-still in the foyer. The butler’s eyes went wide, and he headed down the servant’s stairs as quickly as he could.
His sister took a step forward. “I’m actually rather proud of you.”
He turned to her, certain he’d misheard. “I beg your pardon?”
She took another step. “I’m proud of you for defying Mama so intensely.”
“I didn’t really defy her,” he pointed out, and yet her words touched him. “She never explicitly told me not to marry someone like Lady Hermia.”
Gillian smiled tentatively. “No, but you knew that she’d be appalled, and yet you did it anyway. Do you think that that’s why you asked Lady Hermia?”
“No,” he said honestly. “I don’t want her to suffer more than she has done. Forgive me. No doubt, she’ll make your life more of a misery.”
She let out a sigh. “Well, I don’t think that you can stop that,” she said with a sorrowful shrug.
It was the sincerest conversation he’d ever had with his sister. They had never gone below the surface of things, and his sister had always seemed to take sides with his mother.
He found it very, very strange.
“Do you want more from life?” he asked suddenly.
“More?” she repeated, clearly uncertain. She looked about their elegant foyer. “What more is there than what I have? And how can I possibly complain about it? I have been born to privilege. Why should I ask for more?”
“You’re not happy,” he pointed out.
She let out a dry laugh at that. “Who is happy, brother, truly?”
“Hermia’s family seems happy.”
That gave Gillian pause. “They are entirely different from anyone that I have ever met. Do you think that to be happy means one has to live outside the bounds of society, to reject the expectations of others?” she asked softly.
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “But perhaps.”
“What are we to do then?” she whispered, her eyes shimmering. “You and I have done nothing but please our mama our entire lives.”
It was a scouring accusation.
No, he swiftly realized. It was not an accusation aimed at either of them. It was simply the truth.
He had never thought of himself as someone who wished to please. But when he looked back, he realized that Gillian was painfully correct. He had done everything he could to make certain that his mother found happiness, and yet no matter what he did or how hard he tried, he could not achieve that. He crossed to his sister and held out his hands to her. It was a gesture that was uncommon to them. He had no idea if she’d even take his hands.
But after staring at his palms for a moment, she slipped her hands into his, taking the peace offering.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “for not having fought harder for you.”
“What are you to do?” she pointed out. “Mama is trying to help me make a good marriage, and how could you know that I…”
“What?” he asked softly.
“That I simply wish… I don’t know,” she said. She grimaced. “Honestly, I don’t even know what I want. Isn’t that awful?”
“No,” he said. “But neither of us have ever been encouraged to go after what we want. Not like the Briarwood family.”
“They are shocking,” she said, her eyes beginning to twinkle with amazement. “The duke… I cannot even imagine a man like that. Do you think he’s real, or is it all an act?” she exclaimed.
“Oh, I think it’s real,” he said. “I think he’s one step away from Bedlam.”
“The entire family is,” Gillian said. “And I think that is what makes them wonderful. Did you see Mama’s face when the crow landed on the duke’s shoulder!”
He grinned at his sister, at least able to share a joyful moment with her. “I feared she’d faint, and I doubt that house has smelling salts.”
“They are too accustomed to shocking things,” agreed Gillian, who smiled so hard her dimples appeared in her cheeks.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked abruptly.
“Why?” she asked.
“For being such a terrible brother for so long.”
“You’re only just realizing it?” she teased.
“Yes,” he admitted. “Because I’ve never truly seen a loving family like that before. How much you and I have missed…”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Is it too late?” she asked.
“Too late?” he queried.
“For us to try,” she ventured. “We’ve been so bitter and miserable all our lives, don’t you think?”
He’d never thought he was bitter or miserable before. He’d thought he’d risen above it. But suddenly he wondered if he’d simply hidden it from the world. And he wondered if that bitterness and misery were rooted in his soul. And if that was the case, he was suddenly afraid for Hermia.
What if he couldn’t get rid of it? What if he couldn’t rise above it? And what if he dragged her into the mire and misery of his house and family?
“This is your chance,” she said suddenly.
“What?” he gasped.
“Your chance to be free of it all,” she rushed, holding his hands tightly as if she could will him to act. “To be free of this house and the way our family is. You’ve chosen differently, and that’s why I’m proud of you.”
“I’m not going to leave you behind,” he replied firmly.
She drew in a ragged breath. “Only time will tell If I’m strong enough to follow you. Mother is a formidable woman.”
His sister let go of his hands and headed for the stairs, and as she retreated, his determination grew.
He would be as strong a brother as the Duke of Westleigh, and he would do anything it took to make certain that his sister found love, that his sister found joy, and he wouldn’t let her settle for anything less.
His life was already changing. He had no idea what would come. And he only prayed that he would be ready for it.