Chapter Seventeen #2
He tethered his horse in the shade of the trees and quietly made his way through the copse to eavesdrop—something he normally never did, but this was important. He needed to know what nonsense Clement was dishing out and whether Gwen was swayed by any of it.
He listened as Clement spoke in a pleading voice. “Wellington himself asked me to stay on in France and assist the noble families who had lost their estates. Gwen, most lost their precious loved ones, too. They suffered so much, so how could I refuse?”
“I am not questioning your acceptance of an important assignment,” Gwen replied.
“I am hurt and angry because you never once thought to tell me. What would it have taken for you to let me know you were alive? One short letter in all the years of your absence would have sufficed. I could have stopped torturing myself, wondering whether you were dead or alive.”
“I’ve explained this to you.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I was under the mistaken impression that my father had told you. I thought he was forwarding the letters meant for you. How was I to know he’d burned them and chased you away?”
“How many letters were there?”
Clement blushed. “Maybe three or four.”
“In ten years?”
“I was busy, Gwen! Don’t hold it against me. But I will take full responsibility for not recognizing how mean-spirited my father was, and how he never forgave me for proposing to you without his permission.”
She folded her arms over her chest, stared at him for a long moment, and then nodded.
“That was truly heinous of him. I suppose there is logic to what you say. He always ruled his family with an iron fist. That need to control everyone and everything around him was why I did not marry you before you headed off to war. My life would have been a misery if I were under his thumb.”
“I know, and I understood your concern.” Clement nodded. “You would have borne the brunt of his anger because I dared flaunt his rules. He did not care that I did so because I loved you. In his mind, I had flagrantly insulted him by ignoring his authority, and he had to punish us both.”
“But Andrew,” she said gently, “that still does not explain why you never once bothered to contact me directly after the war was over. It would not have been difficult for you to find me on Duchess Square. Any of our childhood neighbors could have told you where I resided. I’ve kept up a correspondence with most of them.
I also left word of my whereabouts with the War Office.
Several of my friends who were powerful dukes did the same on my behalf. ”
He glanced away a moment and then returned his gaze to hers. “Yes, I know. But I was only told this a short while ago.”
“How short? The Duke of Durham made the inquiry over a year ago.”
Andrew emitted an impatient sigh. “I don’t know exactly how long ago word reached me, Gwen.
I was doing something very important, and—” He groaned and took her by the shoulders, a gesture that had James edging closer because he was not certain what Clement intended to do next.
“I did this for us, risked my life for a better future for us. France immediately after the war was still a dangerous place. I had to deal with the horrors of combat. I was daily involved in helping innocent families survive the losses they had endured. I did it for the hope of a reward from the Crown. And I received it. I now have a title of my own and an estate to go with it. I could not have supported you on an officer’s wages, and I was nothing without my father’s grant of an allowance that he would never give me because I had defied him. ”
“But I inherited a tidy sum,” she pointed out. “You knew my family had wealth.”
“I did not realize you had inherited so much of it. Even if I had, how could I come to you with nothing? I have it now, Gwen. I am now Viscount Winterbrook, first viscount, and it comes with a vast estate near the village of Winterbrook in Yorkshire. I know nothing about running an estate, but I hoped that you and I might work it out together.”
“Do you know if it is already run by a good estate manager? Have you visited Winterbrook yet?”
“Not yet, but I plan to do so soon. Do you think there’s a good man in place to run it for me?
See? You are proving invaluable to me already.
You know I do not have a head for such things.
Nor the patience for going over endless rows of sums. My eyes will cross from boredom.
But with good people hired to run things in our absence, we will be free to do whatever we want, travel wherever we wish to go.
You’ll love Italy. I cannot wait to show you the sights. ”
“But you’ve just acquired Winterbrook. Do you already wish to leave it?” At his nod, she added, “Seems you have our lives planned out.”
“Just suggestions, Gwen. Do you not wish for a little excitement in your life? Well, no matter. We can leave that for a later discussion. Helping Pierre Marchand’s family reclaim their French estates was my final act, the last loose end to clear up before I sought you out and married you.
Please, Gwen. You cannot abandon me now, not when we have come this far. ”
He bent to kiss her.
She turned her head to avoid the kiss. “No, Andrew.”
“C’mon, Gwen. You are mine, as I am yours.” He drew her closer, easily done because he still held her by the shoulders and she was too little to fight him off. “Kiss me, love. I missed you so much.”
James did not give Gwendolyn the chance to respond, for he’d heard enough and noticed she was still resisting his advances.
He strode forward. “Let go of her.”
“Gwen, do you know this dolt?” Clement asked.
“Yes, I do. And he isn’t a dolt.” She skittered out of his grasp. “Nor did I give you permission to kiss me.”
Clement laughed and attempted to take her back in his grasp. “But we are betrothed. Stop this nonsense.”
She lightly slapped his hand away. “You do not get to walk back into my life as though we only parted yesterday. I still have many questions that require answers.”
Clement moved toward her again.
When James stepped between them, Clement surprised him by taking a swing at him. James ducked and swung back on mere survival instinct, landing a punch to his jaw.
Clement stumbled back, startled. “What in blazes? Who the bloody hell are you?”
“What does it matter? The lady said no,” James shot back, not bothering to introduce himself, since he was too angry to be polite.
Besides, Clement had been following them around and had to know exactly who he was. Pretending not to know was just his way of insulting James.
The bounder was fortunate James did not do worse than punch him, but he hadn’t wanted to cause the man injury. He never would have hit Clement if the bounder hadn’t come at him first.
Clement’s jaw cracked as he rubbed the spot where James’s punch had landed.
“You all right?” James asked.
Clement merely glowered at him.
“Guess you are,” James muttered, not regretting throwing that oaf off his stride. No one called him a dolt and got away with it.
“The lady is my betrothed.” Clement curled his hands into fists. “What business is it of yours what we do?”
Gwendolyn got between them as Clement raised his fists and prepared to go at James like an enraged bull. “Enough!” She turned to James. “I do not need you to protect me from Andrew. What are you doing here?”
“Everyone was worried about you. What were you thinking to ride off with a man you haven’t seen in years? He could have done anything to you, and we would not have been nearby to protect you.”
“I’ve known him all my life,” she said. “And in the years he and I were apart, I have been taking care of myself just fine.”
James snorted.
She inhaled lightly. “What’s that snort supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it. I was under the mistaken impression that… Never mind.”
Apparently what had passed between them last night did not hold the same significance for her as it had for him.