Chapter Twenty

L uke didn’t even bother climbing into bed. Dragging a chair from the fireplace to stare out the window, he tried to sift through his swirling thoughts and plan.

There was an ache behind his breastbone that felt similar to when his father sent him to boarding school. Rejection hurt his pride, but the more important question remained unclear. Did he still want to marry Belle, knowing she’d almost chosen his father, the very man who had rejected him? More than that, others knew that she’d been The Earl’s paramour. Did he want children to suffer for their mother’s past?

He snorted. Only in the Ton would children suffer because their mother loved two men, while not being at all affected by their father’s past as a drunken sot. It was so ridiculous to consider, it made him realize he cared not one whit for any contrived rules or frivolous-minded gossips who could not see how intelligent and caring Belle was.

However, that only addressed the external concern. He was willing to admit to himself, although perhaps not to Belle, that he trailed her in maturity as well as age. He’d worked hard to make progress on that, though, and he liked to think that was part of their dynamic. He encouraged her to have a bit more fun and be a little more frivolous, while she kept an eye on his focus and goals.

Picturing himself playing hide and seek a sable-haired girl and a chestnut-haired boy, he imagined Belle walking by his hiding spot and him yanking her in with him for a kiss before encouraging her to join their game. The vision changed to them at the supper table, discussing the progress of each of his—their—organization’s patrons.

He had already schooled himself to stop worrying about his father’s expectations. He would create his own life, goals, and responsible hobbies, and make no apologies for them. He’d communicate his past transgressions and his plans for the future, and his father would accept them or not. This was simply another layer. He loved Belle. Nothing would change that, including his father’s feelings on the appropriateness of their relationship.

And no matter what Belle’s experience with The Earl had been, if she was able to accept Luke’s feelings and see him as a responsible adult, he wanted her. But therein lay the crux. He’d been foolish to think Belle would find him acceptable as a partner. Hell, even Will, who had his act together, struggled to win the woman he loved. As for him, if his own father found him unlovable, why would a woman who had seen him at his worst think otherwise?

He watched the sun rise, dreaming up then discarding wild tactics to win over Belle. When he heard movement in her bedroom, he ran downstairs and requested that the kitchen start coddled eggs, toast, and tea. He wandered the lower floor until the tea was ready.

When Belle entered the dining room, they both sat as her breakfast was delivered. Looking at her meal that took close to half an hour to prepare, she shot him a surprised look.

“You didn’t think I’d learned your preference in meals? Do you really see me as that self-centered?” He couldn’t help it. His tone was bitter.

She looked pained. “I am sorry.”

“Belle—”

“No. Please. I thought about this all night. I did not feel this match was appropriate when Mrs. Dove-Lyon suggested it, and certainly nothing we learned last night is going to change that. Also, as I said to her and saw again last night, you are ready to return to your own home, your own life.”

“Blast,” he muttered. He’d feared she’d leap right to this, not allowing him even a chance to convince her.

She was dithering with her silverware, avoiding his gaze.

This was not going to plan.

He took a breath to speak, but she looked up and said, “Luke, the North I knew is not the person you describe. I think there have been miscommunications, or perhaps misinterpretations of actions. If you could—”

“You are taking his side now?” He clenched his jaw in anger, fisting his napkin and throwing it on the table. “How little faith you have in me. I’m so immature I don’t notice what you eat, I don’t see the love pouring out of my taciturn father. Yet again, I am a failure in someone’s eyes.”

“No, no,” she reached across to cover his fist. “I beg your pardon. That came out poorly, I don’t doubt or dismiss your experience. I meant I think there is a way through it. I know your father cared for you when we... were together. Perhaps he did not show it well. Perhaps he was ignorant of how to show it. But if there were—and I hope there were—good intentions, there might be a path to reconciliation.”

“Just as you have taught me, a simple verbal apology will not fix years of ill deeds.”

“I think you want to reconcile. My belief is that you were drowning in whisky and all sorts of destructive behavior to get some reaction out of him, some recognition.”

His brows rose. She might not be entirely wrong. Perhaps he needed to have a conversation sooner rather than later with his father, especially if it would ease Belle’s mind.

“Anyway,” she continued, “you are right. It would take more than words to fix things—but what if he wants to do that, also? I think it is worth discussing.”

“I shall consider it. I trust your judgment, Bellissima.” He caught her gaze and held it. “You have proven my point yet again. You are the most caring person I know. Even as you struggle to see a path for us, you’re more concerned with my future than your own.”

She flushed. “’Tis more than a struggle. Luke, I cannot marry you.”

“You mean you will not, at least right now. I hope to change your mind.” Gulping a breath, he caught and held her gaze, and said, “I love you. I am in love with you.”

She shook her head and glanced away.

“What, you doubt me?”

“You said yourself you hadn’t experienced love. It seems convenient that you’ve identified it suddenly. ’Tis likely lust or infatuation. Or gratitude for my support with your father and your plans. It shall pass.”

He stiffened, glaring at her. How dare she dismiss him, as though he didn’t know his own mind. For all she supported him in some ways, she still questioned his maturity. It was the worst sort of betrayal, especially when he’d just bared his heart to her.

His voice tight with anger, he said, “Pardon me, but it feels anything but convenient right now, when you’re attempting to oust me from your life. I know you see me as an inept, lazy, entitled lordling who doesn’t know his arse from his elbow, but I know this. I love you. I identify it by emotions I’ve never experienced before. Not fear of life without you, but rather hatred of the idea. Not the inability to imagine children, but the inability to imagine them without you. Believe what you will. I shall continue to love you. Furthermore, I suspect you care for me, too.”

Belle stared, tears dripping down her cheeks. Swallowing, she shook her head again. “I am sorry, Luke. It would never work.”

“I shall give you time to absorb all this, but I am not giving up,” he said, repeating his vow from the night before. “In the meantime, I will make progress on the goals you helped me form. You have my gratitude for your support and guidance.”

Her shoulders sagged. In defeat? In relief that he was leaving?

Either way, it was time for him to prove himself as a man. Not for his father or Belle or anyone other than himself.

“I shall see myself out.” Striding around the table, he leaned over to kiss her cheek and left without looking back.

The first thing Luke did at his townhouse was ask the servants to lock the whisky in with the wine, keep them out of sight, and hide the key. He’d give them to William and Nate after he brought them up to date on his life. Guests would be offered tea, not that he had regular guests.

Second, he wrote a note to William, letting him know he was home and asking to meet at the pub near Nate’s forge later that week. He owed both friends an apology and wanted to deliver it in person, and he was sadly out of touch with how they were faring.

And last, he contacted Belle’s solicitor, thankful he’d gotten the man’s name from her before the revelation about her past. He did not want to work with his father’s solicitor in case he reported Luke’s actions to The Earl. He preferred to master how to set up an organization without an ongoing critique, no matter how benevolent Belle considered The Earl.

Two nights later, he settled onto the bench alongside Will and across from Nate with a tankard of cider. At Nate’s raised brows, he shrugged. “’Tis part of why I asked you to meet. I’ve spent the better part of the last month breaking my bad habits with the help of a friend. I ordered this to have something to wrap my hands around. Because I don’t like cider, this will last me all night.”

Both men grinned when he said “bad habits” and were outright chuckling after his explanation of the cider.

“This is the best news I’ve heard all week,” Nate said.

“How can we help?” William asked.

“Actually, you can’t. But I understand Charlotte might be able to.”

William’s eyes narrowed. “With what?”

“Blunt.” When William growled, he hastened to add, “Oh, I don’t mean hers. I mean helping me find investors. Other investors.”

“For what?”

“I want to help others who have fallen into a bottle or gone into a hole at the dice tables. I’m still working on the details. Whether I can help both working-class and titled men will depend on funding, and I’m not sure how to petition for it. That was more the assistance I was hoping for from Charlotte. The how and who.”

William nodded. “She’s the right person. I shall ask her.”

Nate asked, “It sounds like an excellent plan so far. Will you open it to women as well?”

“Not at first. The arrangements are difficult enough without worrying about reputations, or worse, physical risk. I’d need to provide separate quarters and chaperones, and I’m not ready. However, I hope to do that in the future. Belle certainly—”

“Belle?!” William sounded shocked.

Blast. He hadn’t meant to mention her.

“Was she the ‘friend’ who helped you? How did that happen? Last I saw, you’d insulted her, and she took you to task whilst giving you a ride home. You complained about that for days,” William asked.

“I remember that,” Nate murmured. “This is an intriguing turn of events.” He propped his chin on his fist and leaned in.

Luke waved a hand. “’Tis a long story, and much of it is not mine to tell. Suffice it to say, we ran into each other again, and she agreed to help me. I stayed at her house for a bit.”

Nate scrutinized him. Without lifting his head from his hand, he said, “You fell for her. You’ve never fallen for anyone before, so it took me a minute to identify that look. But”—he circled his hand around Luke’s face, then William’s,—“’tis like his was early on with Charlotte. Yearning.”

Luke’s cheeks warmed. “She is a compelling woman. And she helped me a great deal.”

“I bet.” William snorted. “I agree she is a strong lady, like Charlotte. Did she help you in bed, too?”

Luke frowned. “That is not what I meant. She supported me as I overcame my craving for spirits, she encouraged me to find a purpose without directing me, and she answered a slew of questions I had about costs and such to set up the venture.”

“I notice he didn’t answer the question.” Nate slid a look at William.

“She is an excellent resource, a businesswoman. And... her business is pleasure.” William arched a brow at Luke as he finished, and Nate snorted in his beer.

“ Was .” Luke’s voice was sharp. “She’s retiring.”

“Really? Does Charlotte know that?” William asked, surprised.

“I’ve no idea. Anyway, I don’t care what she did. Hellfire, Charlotte was no virgin when you found her.”

William’s back shot straight. “’Tis a little different.”

“How about this, then? How many wenches have I bedded in my life? You were always on the straight and narrow at school, and Nate here was working too hard, but you know I was at the bars and often in someone else’s bed. What is the difference, other than her bank account is a lot fuller than mine?”

“I suppose,” William nodded slowly, exchanging a look with Nate.

Luke wondered if they disagreed with his perspective or they were realizing they needed to tread more carefully on this topic.

William added, “She’s lovely and funny, and an excellent friend to Charlotte. She’ll always be welcome in my house. I did not mean anything of it, other than contemplating what your father might say.”

Luke wasn’t sure he believed that, but he let it drop. It might take his friends a bit of time to get used to the idea of him wedded to Belle. Hellfire, it was taking her a bit of time.

“My father is my next hurdle. I wish to have more progress to show on the Free Your Spirits program before I inform him of it. When I do, I shall tell him of my plans to wed Belle.”

“Wed?” William asked.

“What did you think I had planned?”

“That’s right. You said she’d retired.” His friend’s tone was equanimous. He turned to Nate and added, “Look at our friend, all grown up, finding purpose and considering marriage.”

The three knocked tankards in a toast.

Luke declined to share the added layer of angst around sharing his love for Belle with his father. There were some things a man did not share even with one’s closest friends.

The next morning, he directed the servants to pack his bags. He wrote a note to Belle, assuring her he hadn’t given up, but he’d gone to face his father. He hoped to get a reply, but when he hadn’t by the following day, he called for the carriage to begin the long trip north.