Chapter 21 #2
“Morry!” James stepped back in surprise, then opened the door wider.
“You are very welcome, of course, but as you can see, my rooms are quite humble, which is why I haven’t invited you in before now.
” Although he had a separate bedroom, his small sitting room held only an armchair by the fireplace, a desk, and a small table with very little room to walk in between.
Morry disregarded that with a wave of his hand as he entered. “I am sponging off my relatives, so I can hardly complain of modest living quarters.”
“You are hardly sponging off them,” James retorted, pulling out one of two spindle-back chairs from the small table. “You are their only nephew, besides being your uncle’s heir. What brings you all the way to my room?”
“I had to come in search of you. You are not to be found anywhere these days.” Morry raised an eyebrow. “Do not tell me your heart is broken over the failed betrothal, for I shan’t believe it.” Before James could speak, he added, “And don’t tell me that a sense of disgrace keeps you to your rooms.”
“I won’t tell you either, then,” James said as he poured them each a glass of Pouhon water before taking his seat. “I have much on my mind.”
“Hmm.” Morry took a sip and set his glass down. “Mr. Vroomen told me that your baths are now completed and ready to use. I aim to try them myself.”
James considered whether it might make a difference in Morry’s case. “It certainly cannot hurt. However,” he cautioned, “I am more confident of their effects on rheumatic complaints and less so on injuries. I do believe the hot bath might give you more mobility, so there is that.”
“I will settle for more mobility, for I will need it.” Morry glanced up, a smile lurking in his eyes. “I am to be a married man.”
James went still as the words penetrated his own fog of worries, then his face split in a grin. He reached over and offered his hand for Morry to shake. “That is most excellent news. She accepted you, then?”
“I am the happiest man alive.”
James leaned back in his chair, the smile still on his face. He had needed good news such as this to cheer him. “Was I not right in saying you had nothing to fear in offering for her?”
“You did.” Morry gave a cheerful little salute.
“And it is a good thing I did not give way to fear, for I have learned that her home life is really not suitable for her temperament. She brought me to see her father while her mother was out—he was a military man in his day and was predisposed to approve of me. He gave me his blessing, particularly as it means she is to stay in Spa.”
“But her mother does not approve?” James asked cautiously, feigning ignorance.
Morry’s sigh whistled through his teeth as he shook his head. “Lady Spencer would parade Becky all around Paris and put her up to the highest bidder to gain more connections if she had her way. But now she will be under my protection.”
James tilted his head, smiling. He could not have imagined a better resolution. It highlighted the pain of his own situation, but he tried to shake that off. “I wish I had something to offer you besides water. We should go to La Redoute to celebrate.”
“In time.” Morry fiddled with the head of his cane that leaned on the table beside him. “Why did you not tell me that you and Miss Prexley were no longer betrothed? I had to read it for myself in today’s copy of the Liège Gazette.”
James leaned back and folded his arms, his smile gone. “It is not exactly the sort of thing one wishes to dwell upon.”
“No, of course not, but to friends? And did you know that she is to marry MacFirbis?”
“What—is she?” James frowned, adjusting to the surprise.
He was not hurt by the news, but it was so fast!
He had scarcely received her letter breaking things off, and MacFirbis must have been waiting in the wings, ready to woo her.
James huffed. And Mr. Prexley had not believed him regarding her constancy.
I wonder if he does now? Oh, he supposed her father had known all along, but it had not been a convenient truth for him to face at the time.
Well, it had all worked out in her favor, but it didn’t affect him anymore.
At last he lifted his shoulder, “I am not surprised. Or at least, I should not be, considering that MacFirbis doted on her. I am just surprised it happened so soon.”
Morry grinned. “Apparently, he offered her a necklace she’s had her eye on.”
James groaned, even as a laugh escaped him. He had told Morry about her predilection for fine jewelry and her attempts to alter even his own appearance.
“Well, I wish them success.” James downed his glass of water and looked around the bare room, idly noting that this was the most impoverished he had ever been. A comfortable lull fell in their conversation.
“If I am not being too bold, do you not have somewhere else you wish to be?” Morry asked with studied indifference. “Or . . . am I also to wish you happy?”
James sent him a level glance. “We would do better to stick to literary subjects and chess rather than private matters.”
“Oh, so only my private matters are up for discussion and not yours?” Morry had a provoking habit of not letting things slide, but James could hardly be irritated at him.
He sighed, and though weary at the idea of explaining himself, did so in just a few words. “With little income, I am not in a position to make her an offer.”
“But surely you have enough to scrape by,” Morry protested. “And you are running out of time. Becky told me the Bridwells are to leave in just a few days. Besides, you have your inheritance to look forward to.”
Another groan escaped James. “I did not consider when I showed the blasted will to Mr. Prexley how much that particular piece of news would spread. There is no inheritance. My great-aunt has died and left her entire fortune to my brother. So I truly have no living, neither immediate nor expected.”
This sober piece of news silenced Morry, but only for a moment. “Well, if I can get the daughter of a baron to agree to be my wife when I cannot even walk down the street without the assistance of a cane, you can surely find a way to convince Miss Bridwell to be yours.”
James frowned and fiddled with the stem of his glass.
“I cannot support a wife. You have too much common sense to believe that I could offer for her when I can scarce support myself.” He looked up.
“Isabel has threatened to destroy my reputation, and I have no doubt she and her father will attempt to carry it out.”
“I think more people are aware of the Prexleys’ true nature than either of them would like to let on. I am not sure their attempts to ruin your reputation will be as thorough as they hope.”
“Perhaps.” James tapped his fingers on the table. “Mr. Bridwell has indeed moved up his departure date, and I don’t know if he will change his mind because of the baths. I believe they are having good effect, but it’s difficult to know with him.”
“And you are worried he will leave before you can in good conscience offer for Miss Bridwell.”
“That is precisely it,” James replied. He should not divulge so much about his personal life, but he had reached a point where he no longer knew what was the best course of action.
Did he let Amy slip out of his life again without her knowing how he felt?
Or did he offer for her and condemn her to a life of poverty should she accept?
Both options seemed intolerable. She was worth so much more.
“Well, you might express your intentions, or at least give her a hint of them. I believe letters are carried between Spa and Paris,” Morry added with a wry grin.
James thought about this. “It’s something to consider,” he said slowly.
That way she would not leave without knowing of his intentions, but he would not be making any promises before he was sure he could provide for her.
The idea was certainly one to mull over.
In the meantime, though, James was tired of sitting around and staring at the four walls.
He stood. “Shall we go to La Redoute?”