Chapter Thirteen

Arthur frowned. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"Yes, you do." Captain Harrington rolled his eyes and threw back the rest of his port before he continued. "You know precisely what I am describing, you are choosing to pretend that you are ignorant of it."

Looking away, an uncomfortable prickling climbing up his spine, Arthur coughed lightly. "I am doing nothing deliberate, I can assure you of that."

"Ignoring your betrothed will do you no good."

Glad that Lord Townsend had already taken his leave and gone to join the ladies, Arthur turned his attention back to his friend. "I am not trying to ignore her."

"Then what else would you describe your behaviour as?"

"I walked with her through the house from the very moment she arrived!"

"And were thereafter, very glad to give her to your sister," Captain Harrington returned, quickly. "Do not think that I was unaware of that! I took tea with them both and was rather surprised that you did not join Miss Townsend. I thought a betrothed gentleman might wish to spend time in the company of his bride to be."

Sighing inwardly, Arthur tried to find an explanation but none would come to him. Nothing that he was willing to share, at least.

"You would not look at her all through dinner," the Captain continued, giving Arthur no peace over this matter, even though he wished desperately that his friend would stop speaking. "And whenever she spoke, you did not even give her your attention! Where does this determination to ignore her come from? It is not wise, my friend. You are soon to be wed and – "

"I cannot permit myself to grow close to her!"

The words flung themselves from Arthur's mouth before he even had opportunity to think of what it was he wanted to say. Captain Harrington's eyes flared wide and he blinked rapidly, only to then pour himself another glass of port and, thereafter, to top up Arthur's glass.

"We shall need this if we are to discuss any further," he muttered, though Arthur shook his head.

"I have no desire to discuss it."

"And yet, we shall." There was a tone to Captain Harrington's voice which brooked no argument and Arthur sighed aloud in the hope that this might affect his friend's determination.

It did not.

"Why can you not permit yourself to draw close to her? "

Closing his eyes, Arthur gave a small, jerky shake of the head. "It is not good for me to allow my heart free, Harrington. You must understand that."

"No, I cannot understand it in the least! That is why I am asking."

"Please, my friend, let me have peace."

The Captain only took a swig of his port and then turned his chair so he might face Arthur a little better, a gleam in his eye which spoke of firm determination. "I do not think I can. This is rather troubling and you know that I am not at all inclined towards ignoring difficulties."

"No, you are more likely to run into them, head on."

Captain Harrington chuckled. "Such determination is what made me a Captain," he replied, with a shrug. "And I shall display such determination now. Tell me, my friend, why can you not let your heart open to her? Miss Townsend is nothing akin to Lady Clara, if that is what you think."

Arthur's heart lurched. "That is precisely what I think."

There came a few moments of silence, only for the Captain to throw up his hands. "How can you say such a thing? Miss Townsend is not at all like Lady Clara!"

"Ah but you cannot know what she thinks of me, can you?" Arthur lifted one eyebrow as his friend frowned. "You can only guess. Lady Clara spoke her thoughts aloud and ended our engagement but Miss Townsend was brought into this engagement by her father. She has no say in it."

"But you asked her if she truly wished to move forward into matrimony," Captain Harrington protested. "Of course she had a choice!"

"Not if her father had already determined that it was to take place and that in doing so, she would not only save her family from ruin but also bolster her sister's chances of matrimony." Rubbing one hand over his face, Arthur let out another heavy sigh. "I do not know the lady so therefore, I cannot tell what she truly thinks of me and my wretched appearance. It is not as though I would have been her choice, had she been given the freedom to make her own match."

The Captain did not respond with a sharp retort as Arthur had expected he might. Instead, he frowned all the harder, rubbed one hand over his chin and let his mouth pull tight to one side. Arthur took another sip of his port, letting the liquid spread warmth through his chest while, at the same time, pain broke through his heart and made him wince.

The betrayal by Lady Clara had torn at him more than he had ever expected. It was not as if he still loved her nor did any part of him desire to have their connection repaired – but yet, the words she had spoken and the rumors she had started had forced him back into a darkness from where he had not yet fully emerged. To let his heart open to Miss Townsend, even if she was his wife, might yet again bring him such pain, might push him back into the shadows and he could not bear that. It was a risk he was entirely unwilling to take.

"The only way you are to be certain of Miss Townsend's feelings is to speak with her."

"But she might very well lie to me."

The Captain shook his head. "My dear fellow, I do not know the lady particularly well as yet and already, I am entirely convinced that she is not the sort of creature who would do such a thing as that. There is an honesty to her, an uprightness which I think would push all manner of things away from her. The way she spoke to both myself and to your sister this afternoon has made a very positive impression upon me and even from looking into her face, I was quietly convinced of her excellent character."

A pang struck Arthur's heart. "Mayhap you ought to marry her instead."

The words were childish and foolish and he regretted them the very moment he said them. Where had they come from? Had that strange fire in his heart been envy? Jealousy?

Thankfully, the only thing Captain Harrington did was laugh. "Thankfully for you, I have no interest in marrying Miss Townsend."

"I did not mean that." Still highly mortified, Arthur looked away as the Captain chuckled again. "Forgive me. I am not always inclined to listen to advice."

The Captain's smile faded. "Then at least consider that Miss Townsend is not the same character as that of Lady Clara. The truth is, old friend, I think you do her a disservice by suggesting that she cannot be anything other than what you have deemed her worthy of."

Picking up his port, Arthur swirled it in the glass and scowled. "The lady is only marrying me because she has no other choice. Yes, I did ask her but her ability to refuse was all but taken from her. I have no knowledge as to what she thinks of my face, of my scars but I can guess. Why would any lady look upon this and think anything good?" Gesturing to his face, Arthur shook his head. "I am not at all the sort of gentleman any young lady would desire to marry. Not when I look like this."

"And again, you say things about her which are entirely unfair," the Captain replied, quietly. "You do not know what she thinks of you – though I suspect it will be less than favorable given the way that you ignore her presence!" A smile spread quickly across his face. "Though that comes from your dark mood rather than your injuries. In truth, my friend, I think you consider yourself more of a beast than anyone else does. That name might have been given to you by Lady Clara but it does not mean that everyone in the ton accepts it nor believes it. You, however, have clung to it and have decided that yes, this is precisely who and what you are. This is not something you need to define yourself as, however. You are no beast. You are a gentleman of honour, one who carried the burden of war upon his shoulders and yet returned to his family in safety."

Arthur shifted in his chair. "But an altered man."

"It is entirely up to the individual how much they alter," came the reply just as a fiery anger shot through Arthur.

"How can you say such a thing as that? I had no choice over my appearance!"

"No, but you have a choice in how you behave, in how you respond to others and in what you offer them of yourself." The calm reply shook some of Arthur's anger out of him and as the Captain took a sip of his port, Arthur closed his eyes and let the lingering anger fade away. Once it had gone, understanding came and Arthur realized exactly what his friend meant. He was the one responsible for his actions, for what he gave of himself and for the way he behaved towards others. Could it be that he had only been thinking of his appearance and of Lady Clara's words? Being called ‘the Beast' had sunk down, deep into his soul and he had not been able to rid himself of it… or had he chosen not to remove those words from himself? Had he decided that he was unworthy of affection, consideration and care from any young lady simply because of those words and because of his appearance?

"I – will think on what you have said." Speaking a little haltingly, he looked back at his friend and then shrugged. "And I shall attempt to speak with my betrothed a little more."

The Captain did not grin or laugh aloud as Arthur had expected. Instead, he simply nodded and offered him a small smile, though, to Arthur's mind, it was one tinged with a little sadness. He said nothing more, picking up his port to finish the glass and, thereafter, rising to his feet.

"Shall we make our way through? The ladies will be wondering where we are or what has kept us."

"Of course." The Captain rose and followed Arthur to the door. "Have you sent out your invitations to the ball which is to come at the end of the house party?"

Grimacing, Arthur nodded.

"And are Lady Templeton and Lady Clara invited?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Arthur replied, heavily. "I would have preferred to have burned their invitation and never sent it but I am afraid that it was already demanded. Besides which, it is better than them attending the house party!"

"That is true," the Captain responded, albeit with a rueful smile. "I see you are not in the least bit eager for Lady Clara to attend. "

"Nor Lord Drover, who is also invited, given that he was a part of the conversation at the time." With a scowl, Arthur marched to the door of the drawing room. "Let us hope that in the crush of the ball, their presence is entirely hidden."

Captain Harrington nodded. "Those are three individuals who it is entirely proper for you to ignore," he said, pausing for a moment before the door was pushed open. "But Miss Townsend's presence ought to be celebrated."

Arthur nodded and walked into the drawing room. His stomach twisted, his heart leapt and his breathing quickened as he let his gaze fall upon Miss Townsend for what was the first time that evening. She was laughing at something his sister had said, her green eyes bright and her cheeks lightly flushed. When her gaze caught his, the smile did not fade immediately and for only a few moments Arthur was offered the opportunity to see what it would be like for such a happy, contented smile to be placed upon him. His heart warmed and he smiled back at her, even though inwardly, he fought hard not to pull it back, not to resume a harsh, stern demeanor.

"Welcome again, Crestwood."

Arthur looked to his mother. "Thank you, Mother. Are we to play a little cards this evening, perhaps?"

His mother's eyes flared, perhaps surprised that he had offered such a thing only for her to beam with obvious pleasure. "A wonderful idea, my dear!"

Soon the games were organized and Arthur forced himself to take a seat next to Miss Townsend rather than sit as far from her as possible. If he was to consider and act upon what Captain Harrington had said, then that would mean doing the precise opposite of what it was he thought best – and perhaps, in time, permitting his heart to open just a little to his beautiful betrothed.