Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

A aron wrapped his hands around his glass of whiskey, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the room around him. It was a Friday night at the Goose and Gander, and the approaching Season had made it particularly busy. Many of the lords and ladies who wintered in the countryside had returned, anticipating the start of the parliamentary and social seasons. Aaron would not be here for that. He had already booked passage on a ship to Italy in a month's time, with no desire to be present during the upcoming Season.

"I hear Lord Markham is looking for a husband for his youngest," Henry said, looking up with a mischievous grin. "Anyone here in need of a wife? Aaron? Are you interested?"

"You know I'm not," Aaron replied curtly.

Henry chuckled. "Well, good. I suppose a duke could do better. Markham's daughter is not what you would call a diamond of the first water. A little stuck-up, if you ask me, and her skin…" He lowered his voice as he laughed.

The three other gentlemen, with whom Aaron was only vaguely familiar, burst into laughter as well.

Aaron pushed his chair back so quickly that it almost toppled over. He had no patience for their superficial chatter, especially since all they seemed capable of were insults toward otherwise perfectly respectable young ladies.

"What is it? Have I offended your sensibilities?" Henry asked, raising an eyebrow. "You used to be one of the first chaps to join such chatter."

"I most certainly never joined with slanderous comments aimed at innocent young ladies, and you know this."

Henry rolled his eyes. "You certainly think you are holier than thou, don't you? Is it not enough that you're going to win a substantial amount of money once your ward gets married?"

"She is not my ward, and I regret the wager. It was uncouth," Aaron said.

Although in the back of his head, he wondered if the wager might not be a chance to talk to Judith once more. He owed her half of whatever money he would earn, after all. But then again, he'd only earn it if she was in a steady courtship with marriage on the horizon—and he didn't want that… He'd rather lose the money.

"What is this wager?" one of the men asked, his eyebrows raised.

"His Grace here bet me a healthy sum that he could get the Marquess of Worcester's sister married before Worcester returns. I bet that he couldn't. Familiar with the young lady and her questionable charms, I was wrong. She has been courting Lord Leeds for the last few weeks, and rumor has it that he will make an offer once Lord Worcester returns. This will deprive me of a substantial sum."

Aaron's hands shook at his friend's words. "She does not have questionable charms," he fired back. "She is a lovely young lady, and the fact that she is about to be married should be all the proof you need."

Henry snorted. "You have fallen for your charge. Well, I will say you have done a commendable job—she has been rather more pleasant of late. Better put together, too. You have worked your charm. But I dare say that the man who claimed to ‘not be easily charmed by a lady' has indeed been charmed." He chuckled, elbowing the men to his left and right. "Although why you chose her, I do not understand. We should not have to put so much work into a lady one is interested in. They say Leeds will make her his bride, but she will likely revert to her stuttering, gauche, unsophisticated self."

Aaron didn't quite know what had come over him, but he stormed around the table and grabbed Henry by the collar before he could stop himself. He marched forward, forcing him to back up until the wall brought them both to a halt.

"I will not have you talking about her in such a manner. Judith is a lovely young lady, and I will not have men like you sully her good name—or any other lady's. I would remind you that you are almost thirty years old and have yet to find a bride. Perhaps it is you who is charmless and in need of etiquette lessons."

Henry stared at him, his eyes bulging as he struggled to free himself. "Let go this instant. Illingsworth, Garner, do something!" he called to the two men who had been sitting with him.

However, they only stared, while the third, whose name Aaron couldn't remember, had half-risen from his seat, his buttocks hanging in mid-air as he seemed to debate what to do.

Finally, the third man decided to sit back down after some contemplation and smirked.

"Quite a brave band of brothers you have," Aaron drawled, releasing Henry and shoving him into the wall once more for good measure.

He finished his drink, grabbed his jacket and top hat, and walked out, followed by Henry's curses, which grew louder as he walked away.

Out in the night, Aaron stopped at the corner, doubling over as he pressed his hands to his knees to catch his breath. It hadn't been his first fight in a tavern or a club, far from it, but he had never fought with someone he had regarded as a friend. Seeing Henry's true colors now, Aaron wondered why he had ever considered him a friend.

How had he ever kept company with such a vile man? It seemed unconscionable to him now. He had never spoken about any lady in such a disparaging manner, nor would he ever. But he had kept company with men who did, which spoke poorly of his character.

Judith was fortunate that she had decided to shun him in favor of Graham. Graham was not the sort of man who spoke of ladies in the manner Henry had. Neither was Oliver. The two young gentlemen, his dearest friends, were upstanding, though they each had their own faults.

"Graham!" a voice sounded, interrupting his thoughts.

He looked up to see a carriage pulling up beside him, the window lowering to reveal a familiar face.

"Oliver?" Aaron called out, hardly believing his eyes.

He crossed the road, taking care not to be run over by one of the curricles speeding down the street, and Oliver threw his carriage door open.

"I have just returned," Oliver announced with a broad smile. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was at the tavern with friends. They collected me at my house, but we had a bit of a quarrel, so I am going to have to take a hackney home," Aaron replied, still confused to see his friend here.

"Well, get in. I'll give you a ride to Hyde Park Corner. I would say I will take you home, but I have business in town before I go home," Oliver said, pulling the carriage door open.

Aaron climbed into the carriage, and then they took off. The interior of the carriage was plush and warm, a stark contrast to the chilly evening air outside.

"I cannot believe you are back. It seems like you left yesterday . France, right?" Aaron asked, settling into his seat and allowing the soft leather to cradle his back.

"Yes, I was there to talk to some suppliers about imports," Oliver replied. "I am glad the wretched war is over and the ban on French imports lifted. I went to Italy as well, I'll have you know. It's been a productive trip. Met a young woman in Italy, actually. Thinking of bringing her back to England."

"Really?" Aaron said, intrigued.

Oliver often met ladies who piqued his interest during his travels, but he never had the desire to bring one home to make his wife.

"Tell me about her."

"Her name is Elizabeta. I call her Lizzy. She's the daughter of a merchant I was dealing with. Intelligent, charming, and quite lovely. I'm considering courting her."

"Sounds promising, although a merchant's daughter? Won't that be frowned upon?"

"Perhaps, but her uncle is a count, so there is that. Besides, the English nobility will be too dazzled by her charm and beauty to notice," Oliver said with a chuckle.

As they continued to chat about Oliver's trip, Aaron felt a growing sense of unease. Oliver described his journey through the Continent in vivid detail—the bustling markets of Paris, the picturesque canals of Venice, and the rustic charm of the Italian countryside. Aaron listened, but his mind kept wandering back to Judith. He couldn't shake the image of her face, her smile, and the sound of her laughter. And soon, Oliver would ask about her, and he'd have to tell him the truth.

As long as Oliver was away, there was a chance that things might still go wrong with Graham and Judith, but now it was inevitable.

"I actually met Elizabeta in Florence," Oliver was saying. "She was at a social gathering hosted by one of the local merchants. We struck up a conversation, and the rest, as they say, is history. She's well-educated and speaks several languages. Quite impressive, really. She came with me to Paris, and I must say, the city is indeed for lovers."

"She sounds wonderful," Aaron noted, though his heart wasn't in it.

Oliver noticed his friend's distraction. "How have you been, Aaron? You seem a bit… off."

"I'm fine," Aaron replied quickly. "Just tired, I suppose. It's been a long day."

"Understandable." Oliver nodded. "But do take care of yourself. I've missed our conversations."

Aaron managed a small smile. "I've missed them too."

"Now that I've told you all about my love life, what about my sister? Did you do as I asked?" Oliver inquired, concern lacing his voice.

Aaron's stomach dropped. Here it was. The dreaded question.

He braced himself and nodded. "Yes, she's in a courtship," he confirmed, keeping his voice steady.

"Is that so? And with whom? I hope she is not with some baron—or worse, a baronet."

"No, she is courting Graham Baxter," Aaron replied quickly, getting it out of the way.

"Old Graham? Well done, I would have chosen him too had I known he was in town and looking," Oliver said, nodding appreciatively.

Aaron nodded. "Yes, she's been courting him for the past few weeks. She seems happy. Though I've not seen her much since."

"Good," Oliver uttered, a smile playing on his lips. "Any troubles? Is he going to make an offer?"

"You should ask her yourself," Aaron replied, feeling a pang of something he couldn't quite identify. "She will gladly tell you."

As they neared a busy intersection, Aaron felt an overwhelming urge to be alone. Fortunately, they were almost at their destination.

"I'm going to catch a hackney home," he said abruptly.

Oliver looked at him with concern but nodded. "Very well, take care of yourself, Aaron."

Aaron was about to get out of the carriage when his friend grabbed his arm.

"Pray, will you do me one more favor? Call on me tomorrow. I want to talk to you and Judith together."

"I don't think that is necessary," Aaron said quickly, not wanting to admit just how badly things had gone.

Suddenly, he worried Judith might tell her brother about the kiss. But that didn't make sense. Why would she do such a thing? It would make things more awkward for everyone.

"Yes, I insist. I also want to share some of the delicacies I've brought back with me. That's the least I can do. Call on us at one o'clock. I'll have tea ready. I'll hear no argument," Oliver insisted.

Aaron nodded reluctantly before he stepped out of the carriage and watched as it drove away. He hailed a hackney, his mind awhirl with thoughts of Judith, Graham, and the path his life seemed to be taking. As he settled into the seat and gave the driver his address, he couldn't shake the feeling that everything was slipping through his fingers.

The night air was cool and crisp, the city alive with activity. The hackney rumbled along the cobblestone streets, passing rows of townhouses and shops. Aaron leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to quell his inner turmoil.

His thoughts kept returning to the conversation he had just had with Oliver, and the realization that he had been more affected by Judith's courtship than he cared to admit. How could he have allowed himself to fall in love with her?

Stupid…

He remembered the way Judith used to look at him, the way her eyes would light up when he entered the room. He had dismissed those feelings, convinced that he was doing what was best for her. But now, he couldn't help but wonder if he had made a terrible mistake.

As the hackney drew closer to his home, Aaron felt a sense of dread settle over him. He paid the driver and stepped out, standing on the steps of his London townhouse. It had always struck him as excessive to own a home in Brixton, on the outskirts of town, and a townhouse, but the townhouse was convenient for times such as this, when he couldn't be bothered to return to the country so late at night.

With a heavy heart, he entered his home, the door closing behind him with a soft click, leaving the noise and chaos of the city outside.