Chapter Thirteen

December 26, 1814

Rogue’s Arcade Club

Mayfair, London

It’s my damned birthday.

Cornelius slipped into a comfortable winged-back chair near one of the fireplaces at his club and stared, stunned, into the cheerfully dancing flames. He was numb inside with hot, growing anger coming up beneath it. To add insult to injury, he brought the damned letter out of his pocket, unfolded it, and then smoothed it open on his leg, to torture himself by reading it again.

As if he hadn’t already memorized the few words.

Dearest Cornelius,

As much as it pains me to do this to you, I’m afraid I must inform you that I cannot marry you today. Yes, we enjoyed a long engagement, and I truly thought you were who I wanted by my side for a lifetime, but I was wrong. I am not strong enough to be with a man haunted by the war to the point of being lost in nightmares. It frightens me too much.

By accident, two months ago, I met the man who turned my world upside down, a man without the problems you struggle with. In a week, I am leaving for Rome where I will marry the Earl of Wycott on his estate just outside the city. To be fair, I am grateful to you in that you were with my brother when he died on that battlefield, but you have more than fulfilled your promise to him.

Warmest regards,

Angelica

Not exactly the angel he’d thought her. Two days ago, she’d left him standing at the altar in a church. Waiting for her, to wed her, the woman he’d been engaged to through letters since he’d been deployed. When he’d finally returned to England from the war earlier in the year and met with her in person, he’d been absolutely sure she was the woman for him.

His promise to her dead brother aside.

But now, on his birthday, instead of embarking on a honeymoon trip with a new bride, he was drowning his sorrows in copious amounts of brandy at his club because she betrayed him with another man.

How damned unlucky could I be?

“I just heard the news, Timelbury. I’m bloody sorry about that,” the Duke of Edenthorpe said as he seated himself in a matching chair next to Cornelius’ location. “Though there is nothing I can say that will make any of this better, nor will it heal your battered heart, I will say this. She wasn’t the one for you.”

“She was going to be my wife,” he said in a low voice as he handed over the letter for the duke to read. “For years, I dreamed of the life we would build together, thought that after Prinny rewarded me for actions in the military enough that I could buy property and a townhouse, I’d be a more attractive catch for her.”

God, I’m a nodcock.

“There are things in this existence we will never understand. Trust me, I know of what I speak, for I have been engaged to a woman since childhood, and I…” He cleared his throat, frowned at the missive before giving it back. “Well, it’s neither here nor there.”

Cornelius nodded, for it was well known that the duke hadn’t any options and continued to drag his feet about actually wedding his fiancée. “Things are difficult enough with my mind being shattered from the war. Now this. I don’t know how I’m going to survive.” Already, the nightmares were distracting. If they continued, they would distract from daily life.

And because of them, he’d lost so much.

“Look.” Edenthorpe turned toward him. As he met Cornelius’ gaze, compassion and understanding clouded his depths. “It doesn’t feel like it now, but you’ll eventually realize that Angelica’s defection had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with her character. Do not ever let anyone make you feel less than worthy because the war left an impression on; as it did to all of us.” He remained silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “The woman who is meant for you won’t care about any of that. She will accept you as you are, because she loves you, the man who you are at your core. That woman will connect with your soul and will help to give you the peace you’ve sought every damned year you were in the war.”

Cornelius swallowed around the lump of emotions stuck in his throat. “Is that what you believe will happen in your life as well?”

Some of the color drained from the duke’s face, but he nodded. “That is the hope, yes.”

“What do I do until then, when I can promise you right now that I will never offer up my heart to anyone again.” And he meant it. This betrayal hurt too much.

The duke shrugged. “Keep yourself busy. Check in with all of us at this club if you feel unmoored from reality. We are all experiencing similar battles. Do the most good where you can, and above everything, try not to despair or make yourself into a bitter shell of yourself.”

“In this moment, I choose bitterness. Perhaps those views will change in the future.”

Why the devil would he ever want another woman in his life?

Present day

“Timelbury? Are you with us?”

Blinking rapidly, Cornelius focused on the two men at the table with him at the club. One was the Duke of Broadmoor while the other was the Duke of Edenthorpe. It was odd to see them both at the club these days since they were active with their growing families, and even odder to find them both together. “I’m sorry, what? I was temporarily lost in the past.” In two days, it would be the fourth anniversary of his failed marriage, or rather his marriage that never had the chance to begin. “This time of the year provides some unsavory memories for me.”

“I can well imagine.” Edenthorpe’s expression conveyed compassion. “However, I’m told there is a new woman in your life, one to whom you are engaged. Is that true?”

Heat sneaked up the back of his neck. “I suppose it’s been a bit since I last spoke to you all, but yes. I’m engaged to a Miss Marchington.” As briefly as he could, Cornelius explained what had happened and how the engagement had come about.

Broadmoor grinned. The man might not enjoy leaving his home and he certainly was rarely seen in society due to his own damaged brain from the war, so seeking his counsel was a boon. “All of that is well and good. Many of us have married our wives because those relationships began as false engagements. So tell me this.” He leaned forward in his chair near the fire. “Have you shared kisses with this woman?”

One of Edenthorpe’s eyebrows rose as he too waited on the answer.

“Yes, quite a lot.”

“Ah, good. Now, have the two of you been intimate? That makes all the difference.”

Bloody hell.

There was no sense in lying. “We have.” As succinctly as he could, Cornelius told them what happened before he’d bedded Samantha.

“Right, and after that, you had a messenger sent over to me with a letter explaining about the new threats and the possibility of a leak in this club.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Have you looked into it?”

“I am in the process of doing so.” There was a hard glint to Edenthorpe’s eyes. “I don’t take these allegations lightly, of course, but we must be absolutely sure. Of late, I’ve felt as if the walls are closing in on us and the club. I am truly worried, for every man beneath this roof is a friend, a brother-in-arms. I want these threats irradicated, but we must be strategic.”

“Then we will have a council of war soon?”

“We will, but it won’t be announced or held in this club.” The duke dropped his voice. “You will all receive hand-delivered letters with the time and place. Until then, it is business as usual. We don’t want to tip our hand.”

“Agreed.” Broadmoor nodded. “Now, back to Timelbury’s problem. I realize you were jilted nearly four years ago, but it seems to me that you are finding a new way of thinking with Miss Marchington. Yes?”

Slowly, Cornelius nodded. “Oddly enough, I am. She has this way of infiltrating the walls I’ve put up around myself.” He told them of spending time with her and her father, or how she was willing to stand beside him in the darkness. “And recently, there are moments when there is a distinct feeling that I am falling for her.”

Both dukes flashed indulgent grins.

“Good women tend to do that to the best of us,” Edenthorpe said with a wink. “And we all need more people who bring us happiness, Timelbury. If Miss Marchington does that for you, I implore you to keep her close and do whatever you can to hold onto her. You deserve every good thing. It matters not how it came about.”

“And if I may add something?” Broadmoor nodded. “Men like us need a woman who doesn’t mind being our anchor in this world, we need women who makes us feel that everything we did for England was worth it, and they restore our faith in humanity. If your fiancée does that, you would be a complete nodcock not to let yourself go tip over tail for her.” He held Cornelius’ gaze. “Perhaps it’s time to release the unsavory memories and move forward.”

Could he do that? After four years of clinging to them? “Thank you. I will mull over your words and advice.” Already, he knew there was no one quite like Samantha. His sister had come by his home yesterday after shopping with her, and they’d taken tea together. Out in the corridor, Annabelle had told him what had occurred in front of the shops with Mr. Arbuthnot and how Samantha had defended him—Cornelius. It had both humbled him and encouraged him, and he didn’t take that lightly.

Edenthorpe winked. “Make sure you invite us to the wedding, Timelbury. After everything you’ve done for your fellow club members, we will be glad to support you in any way we can.”

“Don’t rush my fences, my friend.”

Harding House

Manchester Square, Mayfair

London

After meeting with the dukes, Cornelius wished to do something fun for Samantha, something that might make her give him a genuine smile and see him as a man beyond a retired military person with a broken mind.

All week, he’d wanted to take her ice skating, but since it hadn’t been cold enough to freeze the Serpentine and the weather had decided to rain today instead of snow, he had to become creative. With the butler’s help, the entry hall was waxed and polished within an inch of its life. When it was almost as slippery as ice, he greeted her at the door when she arrived, for they were to share tea and then he would drive her home.

“Hullo, Samantha,” he said as he met her at the door, and just seeing her with the black cloak and ever-present bonnet cheered him considerably.

“What are you doing out here?” The slightly lopsided smile she offered had the ability to tilt his world.

“Well, I had you come over because I have something quite different in mind for us to enjoy before tea.” Not for the first time was he thankful for the engagement that allowed them a modicum of freedom from chaperones and the like. “Please, come in and we will ice skate.”

“I beg your pardon, but what?” The confusion in those gorgeous blue eyes was adorable.

“I’ll show you.” He offered her his crooked arm. “Allow me to escort you upon the ‘ice’.” A snicker followed his words, for he couldn’t quite contain his excitement. “With Hartley’s help, we have transformed the entry hall into a frozen pond of sorts.” As pride swelled his chest, he ushered her inside and winked at his butler as the door closed behind them.

As he looked at the entry hall through her eyes, he was pleased with the result. Potted evergreens lined the hall along with potted ferns. One of the maids had even found two wooden ducks and put them at the far end as if it were truly the Serpentine.

“What is this?” Samantha looked about with rounded eyes. “It’s so pretty, though.”

“Since it has been consistently too warm to freeze the Serpentine, I’ve decided that we shall skate here on this high polished floor.”

“How, though?”

“Please remove your boots while I do the same.” He led her over to a chair, and as soon as she sat, he kneeled in front of her. “Allow me.” While she watched with a mix of surprise and anticipation in her eyes, he unlaced her brown leather half-boots, and once they were off her stocking-covered feet, he quickly toed off his boots. “Ready?” he asked as he held out a hand to her, as gallant as if they were at Hyde Park.

A trace of uncertainty went over her face. “I don’t know if I can do this because of my limp.”

“Nonsense. Just hang on to me and I’ll see you through.” When she put her gloved hand into his, he pulled her into a standing position, and then fitting his lips to the shell of her ear, he whispered, “I won’t let you fall.”

“Thank you.” A blush stained her cheeks, but a ready smile graced her lips when he pulled her over the polished floor, and she glided easily in her stocking feet. Seconds later, she squealed. “Dear heavens, this feels exactly like ice skating!”

“Ah, good. I wasn’t sure it the madcap scheme would work.” Inordinately pleased, Cornelius continued to pull her until they reached the far end of the hall. “Now, watch this.” Somewhat arrogantly, he wanted to swan about and impress her, so he released her hands, took off with a running start, and then slid in his socks over to where the butler stood watching.

And it was exhilarating!

As he turned about, he gestured to Samantha. “Come, sweeting. Get up a bit of speed as best you can then sail along the hall.” It was too late to recall the endearment, but had she noticed? It was too difficult to tell.

But she frowned and looked so distressed as she stood there in her raspberry dress and cloak, that he unexpectedly lost a piece of his heart to her. “That’s just it, Cornelius. I can’t run, not anymore.”

With an uneasy glance at the butler, he hit upon the solution. “Don’t worry your head about it. I’ll take care of it.” Then he slid back down the length of the hall until he reached her location. “I’m going to push you. Do you trust me?”

“Yes. More than most people I’ve met.”

Warm pride rose in his chest. “Good.” Maneuvering behind her, he placed his hands at her hips. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Was he? For a moment he wondered if he was asking for something far beyond playing around on a polished floor. “Here we go.” Thankfully, he was able to gain traction against the tile, and midway through he was able to push her quite quickly over the length of the floor. The reward of hearing her giggles and laughter ringing off the walls was priceless.

Again and again, he guided Samantha over the floor until they were both laughing together. When his sides hurt, he gestured to the butler. “Hartley, your turn. Call some of the staff out here. It’s time for you to make use of this before the floor is scuffed up again.”

“Truly, my lord?” An odd excitement filled the older man’s expression.

“Absolutely. Call the staff together. Have at it. You have all earned some frivolity.” And if his servants couldn’t enjoy themselves, then what sort of master was he?

“Thank you. I shall summon them this instant.”

“Good man.” He nodded as the butler departed. “Come with me,” he said to Samantha, and with her hand in his, they claimed their footwear. “I want to tell you about the woman who broke my heart.” Yes, he was ready, finally, to share with her.

“What a fine day indeed.” As they climbed the stairs in their stocking-covered feet, she turned her head and smiled at him. “That was a lovely little interlude you did for me. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

“I’m glad.” In her grin, he felt as if he could do anything, could face anything the world might throw at him. “You deserve to do something just because once in a while.” Once in the drawing room, he led her to a low sofa and waited until she’d settled before he did the same.

Samantha removed her bonnet, cloak, and gloves, and when she gazed at him with anticipation, she sighed. “You needn’t tell me if you don’t wish it.”

“I think I should, merely to set it free.” Because the dukes had been correct earlier in the day. Some things had gone past their expiration date, and they shouldn’t weigh him down any longer. “In two days, I’ll reach the fourth anniversary of being jilted at the altar.”

“What? She didn’t tell you until then?”

“I’m afraid not, and she did it by a short letter the vicar handed me upon arrival.” Damn, but that had been singularly embarrassing.

Samantha gasped. “She didn’t even tell you in person?”

“No.” Then he pulled the slip of paper from the pocket of his jacket and gave it to her. “I’ve no idea why I kept this except to torture myself.”

With shaking hands, she unfolded the many-creased letter. As she read, he sat reliving all the emotions he’d had that day. “Oh, dear.”

“Indeed.” Cornelius nodded. “It was my friend’s dying wish on the battlefield that I take care of his sister. We’d corresponded by letter for years. In fact, I’d asked for her had through a letter, which she told me was the height of romantic.” For the space of a few heartbeats, he watched her face before he continued. “When I came home to England in early 1814, I felt ready for the next phase of my life, and we made plans to wed. I had no idea she wouldn’t be true to me.”

“Cornelius, listen to me.” As Samantha folded the letter, and it fell easily into its creases, she held his gaze with hers. “This was terrible, to be sure. If it had been me, I would have suffered terribly from a broken heart.”

“And broken trust,” he couldn’t help but add.

“Yes, there is that too.” She nodded. “However, this Angelica must never have loved you at, for not only did she betray your love by running off with another man—and encouraging him before she’d ever told you—but she dismissed the man you are by not accepting you fully.”

“No woman should do that anyway,” he said in a low, choked voice. “My mind—”

“Your mind is sound,” she interrupted with authority in her voice. “The war was a traumatic experience for everyone who took part in it. That is not your fault and should never be held against you.” When she stood, he panicked slightly for fear she’d leave him. Instead, she wandered over to the fireplace, looked at him, and then tossed the letter into the flames.

“What did you do?” Cornelius jumped to his feet, staring as the fire licked at the paper and all too quickly engulfed it.

“I am helping you by freeing you from the past.” When she faced him, she didn’t look at him with pity or disgust. Instead, unless he missed his guess, pride and gratitude shone from the blue depths of her eyes. “Just because Angelica didn’t understand or appreciate the man you are, it doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t see the wonderful person you are.”

“I rather doubt I’m wonderful. I’ve done too many horrible things while at war and—”

“Stop.” She closed the distance between them and took his hands in hers. “Who else but you would give me ice skating in a townhouse simply because the Serpentine hadn’t frozen? Who else but you would decorate my father’s drawing room to give an old man a Christmas like the ones he remembered?” When tears welled in her eyes, he wanted to drop to his knees and say words he never thought he’d utter again in his life. “And who else except you would offer me—a veritable stranger—his protection merely because there might be trouble with his fellow club members?”

“Anyone could have done those things,” he said in a barely audible whisper.

“Perhaps, but how about this? Who else but you could kiss me in such a way that I forget my own name and would willingly give up many things in order to experience more of them?” As she smiled, he couldn’t help but stare at her mouth. “My point is that you are a man worth knowing, and a pox on Angelica. She had the chance to marry you, but since she gave you up, someone else will have that joy.”

Except he’d told her more than one time that their engagement wasn’t real and wouldn’t last. Still, she had that much faith in him? He’d be an idiot of the first order if he didn’t marry her right now, yet could he make that ultimate sacrifice without being hurt if something went awry? After all, no feelings had been exchanged between them.

Not knowing, he tugged her into his arms with a soft growl then he crushed his lips to hers, kissed her with enough possession that perhaps she could discern what it was he tried to convey without needing to find the words. For the first time in years, he felt as if some of the self-loathing he carried had slipped from his shoulders, and it was remarkable.

He didn’t know what his future held, but for the time being, there was her and there was him, and he would enjoy wherever that path led.