Chapter Eleven
James stood alone on his terrace as the hour approached midnight, nursing a glass of brandy.
He and Gwendolyn had enjoyed a light supper earlier with Fiona and her husband, Robert Durham, the Duke of Durham, most of it spent making house party plans that were now firmed because Fiona had come prepared with battle strategies to make any field general proud.
His irrepressible neighbor had given Gwen the names of two well-reputed bachelors, Lord Farley and Lord Hemming, to be added as party guests, as well as providing a small stack of written-out pages consisting of useful resources, such as the most honest local merchants from whom to order supplies and the best entertainers to engage throughout the house party.
Fiona had also mapped out schedules of activities for each day of the week. No detail was overlooked.
She handed the entire party folder to Gwendolyn.
“I told you I wasn’t needed,” Gwendolyn had teased him while they were standing at his front door waving to a departing Fiona and her husband. Indeed, Fiona had left them with little do to other than make the requisite purchases and engage the entertainers.
Well, they also needed to order the invitations and send them off as soon as possible, but he would take care of that tomorrow with Gwendolyn.
Before Fiona and Durham left, Fiona had also insisted on lending him three footmen and three maids to supplement his own roster of servants during the party.
“Your staff and mine are related to each other because this is a small community and everyone knows everyone else,” she’d said. “They’ll be pleased to help you out.”
Gwendolyn had run upstairs to place these vital lists in safekeeping in her bedchamber. James thought she might simply retire now and remain in her room, but was pleased when she returned downstairs and joined him on the terrace.
“Fiona’s folders are tucked in the top drawer of my bureau, except for the merchant list, which is securely in my reticule. I did not want to forget it when the entire point of our visit to Brighton is to prepare for the party.”
“And get you a bathing costume, assuming this afternoon’s misadventure did not sour you on learning to swim.”
“Ah, yes. My swanlike splash into the water,” she said with a wince.
“I’m sure the fish were dazzled,” he teased.
She laughed. “I will do better next time, since I could not possibly do worse. But I am determined to learn. I think I’ll need at least two bathing costumes.”
“Good idea. My sons and I like to spend time on the beach, although we’ll be doing less of it once the guests arrive. I doubt most guests can swim, nor will the ladies want to stay out in the sun too long.”
“I enjoyed our day, even if I took an unexpected bath in your cove. Care to discuss which merchants we ought to visit first?”
“Now?” His heart beat a little faster as he studied Gwendolyn by the amber glow of torchlight.
She was such a pretty thing. Her bright eyes and cherry lips were a devastating combination.
“No, let’s save it for tomorrow’s ride to Brighton.
We’ll have plenty of time to figure it out then.
I guess this party is really going to happen.
” Gwendolyn perched her elbows on the balustrade while looking out over the water and the ribbons of moonlight glistening upon it.
“Oh, I think it must, or Fiona will never speak to either of us again,” she said with a trill of laughter.
“She’s put an awful lot of work into her lists. ”
“Yes, that much was obvious.”
The night was beginning to turn chilly, for there was a cool breeze blowing off the water.
He noticed Gwendolyn shiver. “Cold?”
She nodded. “Only a little. The temperature has gone down quite a bit since supper.”
“Yes, it often does at night because of the sea breezes. Makes for a comfortable sleep.” He removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Here, take this.” He had not thought to advise her to bring a wrap for herself.
The gown she wore was one of those elegant silk gowns that would not keep a mouse warm. “Better?”
She nodded. “Thank you, Milbury.”
“Gad, Gwen. When are you going to stop calling me that and start calling me James?”
“I do sometimes.” She sighed. “I know I am being difficult about this.”
“Then why persist?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” he said with authority, for she had blurted the reason when drunk a few nights ago, revealing in that moment the feelings she had been trying to hide from him since they began working together.
She wanted to kiss him. Simple as that. Her exact words that had slipped in amid her rambling sentences were I long to kiss you.
Of course, this scared her because he was upsetting her orderly world.
Her safe world. For this reason, she would never muster the courage to step forward and ask for that kiss while sober.
She was so conflicted about liking him while betrothed to Andrew Clement, assuming that wretch was even still alive.
But Gwendolyn believed he was.
James thought she might be right, but not for any “sensing it in one’s heart” belief. A heart could not tell or feel someone’s passing, could they? Although a heart could yearn to regain something that was lost.
Gwendolyn was all about sentiment, but he had come to the same conclusion as she had through simple logic.
The war records of an earl’s son did not suddenly disappear without causing a stir within the upper echelons of the War Office or Parliament.
Nor would soldiers who had served alongside her betrothed suddenly forget he ever existed.
Being a father himself, he knew that no father would stay quiet when a son never returned upon the end of a war.
So, it was very likely her betrothed had been drawn into some clandestine assignment or something else that required him to lose his true identity…or he’d simply wished to lose himself and create a new identity.
“Bah,” he muttered softly, and shook off those thoughts. For all he knew or cared, the man could be drinking his way through the Continent.
He returned his attention to Gwendolyn as she stood beside him and had him yearning to make her presence in his life a permanent thing.
But how was he to go about it? Should he give her the kiss she had claimed to want?
Now seemed an opportune time.
He glanced up at the moon glowing silver against a dark sky. Weren’t moonlight kisses supposed to be magical?
Although it would be quite the disaster if Gwendolyn did not think so, for the feelings she readily revealed while drunk were certain to be suppressed while sober.
He did not want her to panic and leave for London at first light.
That would be the worst possible outcome.
He would miss her terribly. His boys would be heartbroken.
Still, would there ever be a better time than now to share a kiss?
Grunting, he took a sip of his brandy. “Gwen…”
“Can you hear the whoosh of waves from your bedchamber?” she asked, her sultry voice breaking into his thoughts.
James nodded. “Yes. You will be able to hear them too. Just leave your windows open. There’s nothing better than the ebb and flow of those waves to rock you into a gentle sleep.”
“Listen, you can also hear the wind rustling through the leaves.” She remained silent a few moments longer. “This is why it feels so peaceful here. The wind, the water. The scent of salt mingling with the aroma of roses to sweeten the air.”
“My boys and I like it here. This is our sanctuary. Our little slice of heaven. Stay the entire summer, if you wish. Rob and Jordan love having you around.”
“And you? Do you love having me around?”
“Yes, Gwen. Very much. Surely my feelings are obvious.”
She emitted a ragged breath, but did not otherwise respond.
Then he heard her sniffle. “Are you crying?”
“Yes.” She wiped a tear or two off her cheeks. “Ignore me. I am just being a silly goose again.”
He placed an arm around her and gently drew her close enough that she could rest her head against his shoulder. “Tears are not silly. Why are you sad?”
“I dare not say.”
“Then shall I say it for you?”
She glanced up at him, her eyes wide. “How can you possibly know what is running through my mind?”
He traced his thumb along the slender line of her jaw. “You are terrible at hiding your feelings.”
“Then tell me, if you are so clever. Why am I crying?”
It wasn’t much of a challenge because he knew exactly what had brought on her tears.
“You are feeling torn about me. About us. You are scared to fit me into your life because it means having to betray Andrew Clement. All these years, you’ve chosen him.
But now you are thinking about what your life would be like if you chose me instead. ”
She exhaled. “Am I that obvious?”
“You’ve left clues along the way.”
She groaned. “Such as?”
“That night you had too much to drink…”
“Oh, I knew I had opened my big mouth and said something unpardonable.”
He gave her cheek a light caress. “It wasn’t unpardonable. In fact, it was something I was longing to hear.”
“What did I say?”
“That you wanted to kiss me.”
“Oh dear.” She tried to move away, no doubt run upstairs and hide in her bedchamber, but he gently held her back so she would not leave his side.
“You like it here, Gwen. You like me and my sons.”
“I’ve made no secret of it.” She tipped her chin up, as though in defiance. But that only placed her lips temptingly close to his.
He tucked a finger under her chin. “You are also realizing that you could make a good life here with us, and it scares and confuses you. You know it is time to make changes. Do you dare move forward? Your friends have moved on and made happy, loving matches for themselves. I believe you are ready to do the same. I’ll make it easy for you. ”
“How?” she asked.
He felt a shiver run through her that had nothing to do with the cool air, because she was wrapped in his jacket and leaning into the warmth of his body.