Chapter 8
“That is quite the story,” Rupert said as he took a sip of brandy and smacked his lips. “Worthy of the greats. Perhaps I will write a poem about it.”
“I did not know you wrote poetry,” Adrian said.
“I don’t,” Rupert chuckled. “But is poetry not just divine inspiration passed through a quill and ink? Personally, I never saw what was so difficult.”
“If you do such a thing, make sure not to use my name,” Adrian said as if he thought his friend was being serious.
He had just finished telling Rupert about how he and Ophelia had come to meet, the reason for their engagement, and what might happen next…
if anything at all. “Or my wife’s, for that matter. Better that you leave us out entirely.”
“Ah but then who would remember you?”
“Who says that I want to be remember?”
Rupert chuckled as he had another dip sip of his drink. “The way you remain hidden in your castle as if the world does not turn around you? Clearly, being remembered is not a yearning that calls to you.”
“Nor will it ever be.”
“Oh, come now…” Rupert sat forward. “All men wish to be remembered for something. Some want power. Others want money. Many want to change the world! I know you have told me otherwise so many times, but there must be something, Vermont. What do you want?”
“To be forgotten.”
“To not be known at all.”
“Even better.”
Rupert rolled his eyes as he took a final sip and finished his glass.
“Perhaps a lesser vocation? Where I have never been a party to such notions, I have met men who claim that all they want in this world is to be known as a good husband and a loving father. To leave behind that as their legacy, they claim, is a tonic that few dare to taste but all would relish were they given the chance.” He laughed. “Maybe I am a poet!”
“Some men,” Adrian said as he tasted his brandy. “Not me.”
Rupert sighed and rolled his eyes. “I do not know why I waste my time with you. I have had more interesting conversations with pieces of furniture.”
“And as I have told you a dozen times, you are the one who insists on this friendship. No matter how many times I try and cut you out…”
“I always come back,” he grinned as if this were a compliment. “Do you remember Eton? When I used to beg for you to join me and our chums in sneaking off campus so we could terrorize the locals…” He shook his head and smiled at the memory. “I don’t think I ever once managed it either.”
“Not once,” Adrian said, allowing a soft smile at the memory. “Eventually, you stopped trying. But it took you long enough.”
“And here we are,” Rupert sighed and slunk down in his chair. “Who would have guessed it? After all these years…” A shake of the head. “I do wonder why I never took the hint and left you alone, as you so desperately wanted me to do.”
“I know why,” Adrian said.
“Oh?”
“Because you like being the center of attention,” Adrian said with a slight grin. “Just as you like the fact that when you are with me, you do not need to try for it. Some men like power. Some like money. You, Rupert, like people to wonder about you. As if there is more to you than what is seen.”
“And is there?”
Adrian scoffed. “In my experience, you are as shallow as a puddle.”
Rupert laughed at the joke, a rare thing, as Adrian was not known to make jokes. In fact, Rupert might have been the only man living who had ever seen Adrian do such a thing.
Why does he persist with me… Adrian eyed his friend in wonder. Most would have given up by now. It is not as if I bring anything to this friendship.
As depressing as it was to admit, Adrian had always felt a sense of gratefulness toward his friend for not cutting him off as so many others had done. Oh sure, Adrian had tried to force it a dozen times or more, but Rupert always came back.
It was a small thing, but it reminded Adrian that he wasn’t so alone in this world.
He liked to pretend that he was, just as he liked to pretend that was what he wanted.
But deep down in places he rarely visited, he was lonely, and the thought of dying so that nobody would care at all terrified him.
“Another…” Rupert groaned as he stood to his feet. “Before you leave.”
“There is no rush.”
Rupert shook his head as he crossed the drawing room where his liquor cabinet stood ready and waiting. There, he poured himself a brandy, took a sip, and then topped it off.
“Perhaps I want you to leave,” Rupert said. “Perhaps I want a night to myself.”
“I have no doubt that you do.”
“Oh, perhaps…” Rupert crossed the room and as he did, he studied Adrian with narrowed eyes. “… I am wondering why you are here with me rather than home with your dear wife. It is your wedding night, you know? Traditionally, such an evening should be spent with your wife and not your only friend.”
Adrian and Rupert’s chairs were pulled before the roaring flames of the hearth. It was early in the evening, the room was dark save for the light of the fire, and Adrian looked into those flames as if for answers.
As he did, his stomach twisted with what he could only assume to be guilt. Rupert was correct and Adrian ought to have been home with Ophelia. Even if they were not set to engage in their marital duties, it was the right thing to do.
“Believe me when I tell you that she does not want me there,” Adrian said eventually as he took a final sip of his drink, emptying the glass. “She is better off alone.”
Rupert scoffed as he sat back down. “Now, that is a lie.”
“It is not.”
“I know this marriage is a strange one, Adrian. Just as I know that you are not exactly a romantic in any sense of the word. From the sounds of it too, your wife does not expect such things. Lucky that…” He grinned wickedly. “For if she did, she would be left resoundingly disappointed.”
“Your point?” Adrian grumbled.
“My point is that you are married now and that means something. You said yourself that this is a marriage of convenience, which means that it must be convenient for both of you. You are set to spend the rest of your lives together and you cannot do that if you avoid the other like poison.”
“I am not avoiding her,” Adrian said, unable to look at his friend for fear that the truth might be seen in his eyes. “I am just… giving her space.”
“Space for what?”
“Space from me,” he said. “Think of it as a wedding gift.”
Rupert sighed as he made himself comfortable. “What do you want, Vermont? Really? Once you find the baby’s father. Once this marriage settles into its rhythms. What is it that you, Duke Vermont, want? And not just in life but from your wife?”
“I told you already. I want peace and quiet. To avoid becoming the center of a scandal.”
“That is not an answer but an outcome. Tell me…” He leaned forward and fixed Adrian in a determined gaze; the flames reflected in his friend’s eyes as if lit by fire. “Where do you see this marriage going?”
It was a fair question but not one that Adrian had an answer to.
On the surface, he knew very well what he should have wanted. This marriage was forced onto him, and he was determined not to succumb to any notions of what most might perceive as duty and societal expectations, as if he needed to fall in love with his wife and give her a happy life.
Why should she be happy when I have not once in my life known such a thing?
His duty was to help his wife avoid being caught in a scandal, and he had done that.
Now that they were both married, it mattered little what happened next, so long as they did nothing to draw attention.
If he had it his way, Adrian would go back to living his life as he had done.
Alone. Forgotten. Treated as if he did not exist…
Alas, Adrian knew well enough that things were not nearly that simple either.
He was not alone anymore, nor would he ever be again. Like it or not, Ophelia was tied to him forever and while he liked to believe that she was capable of surviving without his constant attention, he knew too that he couldn’t just ignore her.
Nor did he want to ignore her.
Today had been most difficult and it had everything to do with Ophelia.
Adrian had done his best to ignore her forlorn expression, the sadness and loneliness that poured from her like perfume, but it was impossible to avoid.
She had just looked so upset… so broken… so utterly lost and with no way out.
She might not have loved him, or even liked him, but she needed him. And while Adrian did not want to care about her needs, he simply did.
My life might be worth less than nothing, but my wife should not suffer the same fate. She needs me…
“The child is what matters most,” Adrian said, almost to himself. “She is not my child and I cannot fathom why this Lady Delacourt thought that she was.”
Rupert frowned. “I know little of Lady Delacourt, I will admit. But I can do some digging.”
“I would appreciate it,” Adrian said. “The more we know about her, the more we might understand her motives. Hopefully, I can find the child’s father soon.”
“And then…” Rupert prompted.
Adrian sighed as he felt the fight leave him. “You are correct, Rupert, as loathe as I am to admit it. I did not ask for this marriage, but I have found myself in it. And…” He grimaced. “And I should not punish Ophelia for mistakes that had nothing to do with her.”
“Well said.”
“It is my duty to care for her,” he continued, just as he felt something stir inside of him. Like a candle lit in the dark, it was small, not at all prevalent, but it was there. “To ensure that she is… that this marriage not be the end of her.”
Rupert grinned. “How very romantic.”
He scowled at Rupert. “This is not about romance. It is about doing the right thing, and I will do the right thing. My honor demands it.”
It sounded good to say. It sounded right. After all, had Adrian not spent his life bound by duty, determined always to not bring shame to his name? How was this any different?
As to the notion of romance? Such a thought made Adrian squirm. Even had he wanted such a thing, it was not as if Ophelia would want them same. He was cold, he was detached, and he was not one that anyone, anywhere, might ever fall in love with.
She is far too beautiful for someone like me. I would not dishonor her by thinking differently…
With that said, Adrian felt remarkably at peace, more than he had since he’d first decided on this marriage. It might not solve his woes, and it certainly would not be easy, but it was a path forward that he knew he could walk.
Once again, it was the right thing to do.
So it was that Adrian left Rupert shortly after their discussion. The evening was turning late, it was his wedding night, and he ought to be home with his wife. Not that Adrian knew what he would do when he arrived home. But he sensed that simply being there would be enough.
Stranger still, the thought of seeing Ophelia’s surprise when he walked through the door made him smile… if only for a moment.
Adrian arrived home to find the manor cloaked in silence. He waded through the dark foyer and up the stairs, listening for the sound of Harriet crying or his wife’s laughter. She was always doing that, laughing. Even when times were at their worst, somehow, she was able to smile.
He walked the hallway, not sure where he was going, but soon came upon Harriet’s nursery. The door was cracked open and he poked his head inside, unsurprised by what he found.
Ophelia sat in a rocking chair with Harriet on her lap. Even as dark as the room was, he saw that she was fast asleep, and as always, there was a smile on her lips.
Adrian smiled at the sight. He felt that light inside of him grow slightly bigger. For a moment, he simply stood and watched, finding it hard to comprehend that this woman was now a part of his life, just as he did not mind the thought nearly as much as he should have done.
Can I change? Can I find happiness as effortlessly as Ophelia does? Do I even want to…
He crept into the room and gently lifted Harriet from her arms. The baby remained asleep and Adrian was careful as he lay her in her cot.
He thought to watch Harriet sleep for a moment but stopped himself from doing so.
Soon, the baby would be with her father, so there was no sense in growing attached to it.
Next, we walked to where Ophelia sat asleep.
The moon broke through a bank of clouds suddenly and spread across her face. Her skin was milky white, her auburn hair glowed like a fire in the depths of winter, and that smile… how was it that she wore it so effortlessly? And why did Adrian find it so hard to look away?
“Ophelia…” he said in a whisper. “Are you…”
She shifted but did not wake. As she did, a strand of hair fell from her brow and settled on her nose. Adrian grimaced at the sight, unable to leave it alone, he gently reached forward and brushed the hair away.
“Hhmmm…” Ophelia said, her smile growing.
Adrian started and froze. He held his breath. He watched Ophelia, expecting her to wake up again. But she exhaled and stayed sleeping, the smile growing on her lips as if she knew that she was being watched over.
That is what I must do. As her husband, that is my duty.
With that thought in mind, Adrian did the only thing that made sense. He crouched down, scooped his arms under his sleeping wife, and he lifted her from the chair.
Her arms went around his neck as if on instinct. Her face nuzzled into his chest. Her heartbeat was soft, suggesting at how safe she felt. While Adrian’s heart began to race.
He carried her back to her room and laid her in bed. He pulled the covers over her, getting her comfortable. And then he stood over the bed and watched her sleep for a moment longer.
Adrian did not want this marriage. He did not ask for it. But it had happened and he was determined to make it work to the best of his abilities. But not for himself, because he did not care about his own happiness or his own future. Rather, it was for Ophelia who he would try his hardest for.
She deserved more than him. She deserved the world. And while she would never have it, Adrian would make it that she did not loathe this marriage or hate what had happened to her.
Happiness… it was an abstract concept to Adrian, and maybe it always would be. But he would try his best to find it for Ophelia, and that was a silent promise he made as he left his wife sleeping alone.