Chapter Four
James felt awful for opening up Gwendolyn’s raw wound, one that had remained deep and festering for all these years.
What was wrong with him?
He did not know what to do other than continue to hold her as she released those heartbreaking sobs against his chest. “Gwen, I’m so sorry,” he repeated for lack of anything better to say. “There is so much pain in you, it is making my heart ache.”
She cried a little longer, then attempted to pull herself together.
“No, I’m glad we spoke of Andrew. The anguish of not knowing builds up inside of me like an unlit powder keg, then someone says something to light a match to that keg…
and I explode. I usually wait until I am home to come undone.
I’ve grown fairly good at hiding this pain in front of others. ”
“But you trust me.”
She nodded.
He took out his handkerchief and gently wiped the tears off her cheeks, then handed it to her on the chance she would need it again.
Shadows darkened her aquamarine eyes as she regained her composure and silently stared back at him.
He could fall in love with those eyes. With her.
The realization startled him, and he quickly quelled the thought before he did something stupid and kissed her.
She had the achingly sweet lips for it, heart-shaped and full, like ripe cherries.
No.
This was a step too far.
A kiss could not be undone. It would be the height of foolishness if he attempted to kiss her while she was pining in anguish for another man.
He let out a breath. “I would not blame you if you wished to club me over the head.”
“I am not angry with you, mostly with myself. I want so desperately to move forward, but how can I while this mystery remains unsolved?” She rested her head against his chest once more.
Holding her in his arms felt so good, as though she belonged in them.
But he suppressed this errant thought, because both of them were struggling with old feelings and some frightening new ones, creating this volatile situation. “I’ll do what I can to help you. I have highly placed contacts in government. I can ask—”
“No! I, too, have important contacts, and they were of no help.”
“Have you reached out to the Foreign Office? If Andrew is nowhere to be found in England, then it is possible he is on a mission for the Crown overseas. Likely a string of missions that may have required him to assume a new identity.”
Still, why be so cruel as to hide this from Gwendolyn?
This question troubled him most. She was no flighty fribble who would casually gossip and give him away.
James had known Gwendolyn only a few months, and yet he could tell she was someone who loved deeply and faithfully. Someone intelligent, responsible, and to be trusted.
Why had Andrew Clement shattered her hopes and dreams?
James felt he had to do something.
Not that it was up to him to restore Gwendolyn’s frayed hopes or impossible dreams. But should he not try to help in some way? After all, she was putting commendable effort into helping him find the perfect wife and had asked for nothing in return.
He understood loss, certainly about facing a future without a loved one. And Gwen’s situation was not so different from his.
Of course, it was not quite the same, because he had been given a decade with his wife, while Gwen had spent almost a decade searching for news of her lost love.
But were they not both grieving for what could never be?
Gwendolyn must have suspected what he was thinking. “Others have tried to help me. Fiona’s husband, for one. Miranda’s husband for another. They are both powerful dukes.”
“And nothing?”
She shook her head. “They hit a brick wall, just as I did. I also tried unconventional sources…Suzanna’s husband, John Bohnam, and his best friend, Gideon Knight.
Gideon married another of my neighbors on Duchess Square, Lady Berry Thane.
You will meet him if you join us for supper tonight.
Those two men have connections to people in the less genteel parts of London. ”
“And?”
“They were not successful either. But they did sense something clandestine, or certainly odd, was going on and that Andrew was alive. So we are split among me and my friends, half believing he is alive and the other half certain he is dead.”
“I see.”
“I appreciate your concern, but may we please stop talking about my situation now? This discussion was meant to be about you. Instead, we’ve spent the entire hour talking about me.” She glanced out the window. “It is growing late. I had better be going.”
He glanced at the untouched tea cart.
Well, neither of them had much appetite after that tormented discussion.
“I’ll escort you home,” he said. “I’m glad you will be dining with your cousin tonight. Your spending a night alone would have troubled me.”
She cast him a wry smile and slipped off his lap to stand up.
“There’s no begging out of supper with Suzanna.
You may have guessed by the zeal with which she barged into my home earlier that she is not one to take no for an answer.
She will not hesitate to storm over and drag me out of my house if I dare send my regrets. ”
He nodded in approval as he rose along with her. “Good. It is not healthy for you to be too much alone with your thoughts, especially after I have stupidly stirred them up. I am sorry, Gwen.”
She gave a short wave of her hand. “You would have learned of Andrew eventually.”
But not like this, James thought. He had been furious with Felicity Merriweather for ambushing him and his boys on a London street, and here he had done the same thing to sweet Gwendolyn in his own parlor. “Give me a moment to check on the boys, and then I’ll take you home.”
Her eyes looked a little brighter as she said, “You needn’t go out of your way for me. Fuller can take me to Duchess Square,” she said, referring to his driver. “It isn’t far.”
“Out of the question.” He was feeling rather protective of her just now. Perhaps overly possessive, too.
She was meant to be in his arms.
It could not be overlooked that she had felt quite comfortable in them, too. Was this not significant?
He certainly thought so.
This was all the more reason why he needed to be the one to watch over her and care for her. “You are my responsibility while under my roof, Gwen. I shall see you safely to your door.”
It mattered not that her heart belonged to Andrew Clement. How strong could her betrothed’s love for her be if he’d kept away even after the war ended?
Where in blazes was the bounder?
Nor did James care if the fellow was a bloody hero undertaking dangerous missions for the Crown.
Gwendolyn loved him. They were pledged to marry. How could he allow her to remain tortured with worry over him?
All it would have taken was a word from him. A simple note.
James excused himself a moment to make certain his sons were still on their best behavior. To his relief, he found Jordan comfortably settled in bed and Robert quietly seated beside him and reading a book to his brother.
He kissed them both on the forehead, made certain they had all they needed, and then returned to Gwendolyn.
“How are they?” she asked.
“Amazingly, not killing each other.” He escorted her to his carriage and settled on the seat bench opposite hers.
As his team of matched bays drew his barouche toward Duchess Square, he suddenly felt fatigued.
It wasn’t from any physical strain, but more about his son’s getting hurt and then his learning about Gwendolyn’s situation.
“Will you convey my apologies to your cousin? I think I had better remain close to Jordan tonight.”
“I understand. You want to be there should he take a sudden turn for the worse.”
“Yes.”
“Suzanna will understand. We are an informal bunch and often get together on the spur of the moment. You’ll meet our neighbors another time.”
He nodded. “Gwen, will you be all right?”
“Me? Of course.”
But he saw the strain in her smile and knew that she remained upended by those deep feelings he had unwittingly stirred regarding her betrothed.
She sat up straight as a board, taut and tense, while they rode the short distance to Duchess Square.
Not once did she settle comfortably against the soft leather squabs.
“I should have had one of my maids come along with us for the ride,” he muttered, noticing the stares they were garnering as they rode through Mayfair. He had not thought of providing a chaperone, since the two of them were in his open barouche.
“A chaperone? I haven’t required one in years, not for a simple ride along a London street.
Besides, anyone can see us and know there is nothing improper going on.
I think reaching the age of thirty is a boundary mark.
As you know, I am two years past it. We discussed this earlier, did we not?
Society does not care about me anymore. There is nothing to be done, other than regard me with their mock pity. ”
“Stop talking like that,” he said. “I hope you are jesting. There are no rules or time limits on finding love—or having a second chance at love.”
He was speaking for himself, too. This conversation had made him realize how difficult he had been at every turn, fighting Gwendolyn’s attempts to find him a wife.
“I’ll strike a bargain with you,” he said.
She eyed him warily. “What sort of bargain?”
“I am a duck out of water with this marriage business. None of this feels natural to me. Yet I know my sons and I are missing a woman’s gentle touch in our home.
I have only been going through the motions, not willing to seriously consider any of the young ladies you have brought me.
But that will change once we hold the house party. ”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes,” he said with an emphatic nod. “You see before you a changed man. One who will genuinely open his eyes and open up his heart to the possibility of love.”
She looked skyward and smiled. “Praise heaven.”
He grinned. “But you must promise to do the same.”
Her smile quickly disappeared. She now pursed her lips in that schoolmistress way he found enticing.