Chapter Ten
Shaw Manor hunting box
Near Leicestershire, England
James submitted to his valet’s ministrations, but he was distracted by thoughts of Eloise.
It had been two days since that memorable coupling in her bed.
Emotions had run high that night, and he truly thought they would have exchanged confidences.
Instead, she’d fallen into a doze from post-intercourse bliss, and he’d been content to lie next to her, listening to the sound of the rain against the window.
Yesterday, the weather had been foul with wind and rain, so they’d spent the bulk of the day in the drawing room.
He’d worked on correspondence—even penning a missive to her father—while she kept busy with embroidery.
To pass the time, he would occasionally read her snippets from various articles in the paper, and she returned the favor by reciting passages from her favorite Shakespeare sonnets.
Eventually, she’d fallen asleep and he went about his business, but there was something homey about how she trusted him enough to be so vulnerable around him.
“Woolgathering, Your Grace?” Amusement rang through Littleton’s tone as he held up a jacket of charcoal superfine, and from the look on his face, he’d been holding it for a while.
“What?” He shook his head to clear it. “Pardon me. I’m a bit distracted.” As he shoved his arms into the sleeves of the jacket, he sighed. “I have a stack of letters on the secretary in the drawing room from yesterday. Will you see that the butler gets them for posting today?”
“I will.” Littleton took a length of silk from a drawer in the clothespress. “How is your engagement with Miss March progressing? From what I can gather, the two of you have become as thick as thieves.”
Heat sneaked up the back of James’ neck while his valet manipulated the cravat. “Perhaps we are.”
“Do you enjoy having her beneath your roof?”
“I do, actually. There is something about her that makes me think I can finally grasp peace if I but try hard enough.”
“Of course you can.” Littleton flicked his gaze to James’ before landing it back on his handiwork. “You only need to let go of the past.”
“That is what she told me.” He frowned and remained silent for the space of a few heartbeats. “Easier said than done, I’m afraid.” Then he yawned.
“Nightmares again?”
“Yes.” With a nod, he stepped away from his valet once the cravat was tied. “I woke up shortly before my screaming started so I didn’t wake anyone, but damn I’m growing weary of fighting with them, fighting the memories… the guilt.”
“Look.” Littleton dropped his hands on James’ shoulders. He held his gaze. “Tell me the truth. Do you harbor any feelings for Miss March at all?”
“Other than lust, desire, anticipation for our next meeting?”
“Do be serious.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s dangerous to let myself grow close to someone. For multiple reasons.”
Littleton gave him a shake. “Stop, Your Grace. There is no shame in acquiring softer feelings for the woman. We all have pasts that follow us around. Don’t you think it’s time that you stop hiding from it and within it so you can explore what is in your future?”
“Yet what sort of future can it possibly be if it’s haunted with the things I’ve done?”
“Do what you can to find the light.” Then Littleton stepped away from him. “What is on the schedule today?”
James shrugged. “Since the rain from yesterday has temporarily cleared and it looks as if peeks of sun might break through, I had planned to ask Miss March on a walk about the property.” From what he understood from the housekeeper, she was still abed, pleading exhaustion, and he’d been immediately envious upon hearing that, for he wanted to join her in that endeavor.
Perhaps later.
“Will you behave? Show her the charming man I knew you to be at one time?” The valet waggled his eyebrows.
“Do shut up, Littleton. I am not that man any longer.”
“You don’t need to be. Just show him every once in a while.”
Any other conversation was interrupted when the butler appeared in the doorway of the adjoining dressing room.
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but the Duke of Udolpho is here and wishes to speak with you quite urgently.”
Well, fuck. But he nodded. “Thank you, Martin. I’ll be down directly. Put him in the drawing room.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
When the butler departed, James glanced at Littleton. “Unless I miss my guess, someone from the club believes I’ve lost my damned mind.”
The valet shrugged. “They might not be far from the truth, but go carefully. Wouldn’t want you to accidentally reveal a truth or two.”
He made a crude gesture as he left the suite, much to the valet’s amusement.
As soon as James stepped into the drawing room, his gaze immediately fell upon the Duke of Udolpho. The man carried an honorary title, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t as respected or powerful as a real duke.
“What the hell are you doing here? Did Eggleton send you?” That seemed to be what happened whenever one of the men at Club Damnation acted scandalous or shocking. Hell, he’d even been on one of these visits himself.
“Of course he did.” The other man turned from the windows and approached the grouping of furniture where James dropped into a chair. “Why else would I come all the way out here, risking shitty roads and the weather?”
“Sit down, Udolpho.”
“Not until I have a brandy.” Changing course, the other man went to the sideboard, grabbed a crystal decanter and two matching glasses, then came back and sat on a low sofa.
After he’d poured a measure into one glass, he gave it to James.
Serving himself the same, he set the decanter on the table in front of him. “I’m sure you know why I’ve been sent.”
“I do.” He brought the glass to his lips and took a large swallow, savoring the burn in his throat. “Out with it.”
Udolpho was a bit more elegant when imbibing, but when he reclined on the sofa, his eyes were hard as he looked at James.
“According to the gossip that is sweeping through society, we’ve surmised that you’ve kidnapped Miss March, are currently holding an innocent woman hostage, and have apparently lost your fucking mind. How do you answer that?”
At least he didn’t pull any punches. For that, the man had his respect. “I don’t care what you or anyone else says. This is my life; I’ll do what I want.” A wave of protection rose in his chest, for he would defend Eloise against any of the gossips in the ton.
Udolpho huffed out a breath. “You’ve always been on the edge, Blackhawke, but this is beyond the pale. You can’t go around kidnapping women.”
“Says you. If it’s escaped your notice, a handful of the men at the club have done exactly that.” He took another gulp of his brandy. “I had no choice.”
“Gammon. There is always a choice.”
“Regardless, Miss March and I are engaged.” He waved a hand. “So essentially, I fixed the issue that Lady Jersey is spreading about society.”
A snort escaped Udolpho. “Engaged? By force?”
“Somewhat.” A tight grin tilted one side of his mouth upward.
The other man stared at him. “Did she agree to said engagement?”
“Not quite.” It was that spirit that kept him captivated. “It’s been a process, but I think we’ve come to an agreement.”
“Still, you snatched her away. Her father is beside himself, and last I heard he’s talking with Bow Street about his daughter’s disappearance.”
Shit. That isn’t good.
“In fact, I did write to her father. The letter is going out in the post today.”
“All these days after the fact? That’s a bit cold, man.” Udolpho shook his head. “Even for you.” When James kept his own counsel, his friend continued. “Did you force yourself on her without consent?”
“I did.” What was the point of denying it?
Shock and horror were reflected on the other man’s face. “You raped her, enjoyed her body against her will, and now you’re holding her hostage?”
“No.” James tossed back the remainder of his drink.
He gasped at the burn in his throat. “In fact, just recently I’ve given her the freedom she required.
” But his hand tightened on the cut crystal glass.
Why the hell was he being questioned? Things between him and Eloise were evening out and they were becoming friends, or at least something more pleasant than enemies.
Didn’t that prove his decision was the right one?
The shock on Udolpho’s face deepened. “I can’t believe you.”
“If you can honestly tell me that you didn’t treat your now wife with high-handedness early in your relationship, then I’ll not come the crab over this line of questioning.”
“I… Uh…”
“That’s what I thought, so don’t think to lecture me, and you can tell Eggleton the same.
” James set his empty glass on a nearby table.
“Look, this is nothing that none of my other club mates haven’t done at one time or another.
You know how we all are. Life begins to take a toll, and sometimes, we need to go a bit insane in order to hopefully chase healing.
” Was that what he wished to find with Eloise?
It was a surprisingly candid response from him, regardless.
Udolpho drained his brandy glass. “Why?”
A swath of silence followed before James answered. “Because of what comes next,” he said in a low voice.
“Which is what?”
An ache set up in his chest, for he knew what he would ultimately do. “What if I start caring for her?” Did he want that also?
One of Udolpho’s dark eyebrows raised. “Have you?”
“I don’t know.” Liar! Things were… brighter with her around, and he was enjoying their recent time spent together in the drawing room. “I have ruined her life.”
“You mean by killing her fiancé?”
There was that, and he really should make inroads into trying to remember if he had or hadn’t. “No, by linking her name with mine, for everything that has occurred this week. I feel… responsible for her now.”
“So, then you’ll maintain the engagement?”