Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

C harles sat in his usual leather armchair at the club, a glass of brandy untouched before him. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes distant as he stared into the crackling fire. The usual hum of conversation in the club seemed muted, far away, as his thoughts churned.

Despite his demeanor indicating otherwise, he was overly aware of Joseph's eyes on him. Charles knew full well that Joseph had known him long enough to recognize the signs of his brooding. With a sigh, Joseph set down his own drink and leaned forward.

"Alright, out with it," Joseph said, his tone filled with exasperated concern. "What's got you looking like you've swallowed a lemon?"

Charles sighed deeply then shook his head, taking care to avoid his friend's gaze. He glanced at Joseph, then back to the fire. "It's nothing," he muttered, reaching for his brandy and taking a sip of the amber liquid that burned a path down his throat.

Joseph snorted. "Nothing, he says. Come now, Charles. I've known you since we were in short pants. You can't fool me."

Charles took a long sip of his drink, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. He set the glass down with a soft clink, then looked at his friend. "It's... complicated."

"Is it not always?" Joseph leaned back in his chair, a wry smile on his face. "Let me guess. It is about the girl. The one you're engaged to."

Charles nodded reluctantly. "Abigail. Yes."

"Do not tell me you are already having second thoughts, Grouton," Joseph said, raising an eyebrow.

"No... yes... I do not know." Charles ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "It is complicated. I want to do right by her, Joseph. She doesn't deserve to have her reputation ruined because of me."

Joseph nodded slowly. "Noble of you. But that's not all, is it?"

Charles was silent for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost a whisper. "I can't risk it. I can't let it happen again."

Joseph leaned forward, his expression serious. "Charles, about what happened before?—"

"No." Charles cut him off sharply, his eyes flashing. "We're not discussing that."

Joseph held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Alright, alright. But you can't let the past dictate your future forever, old boy."

Charles laughed bitterly. "Can't I? Seems safer that way."

"Safer, perhaps," Joseph conceded. "But is it living? Besides, you cannot give Grace that much power over you."

Charles didn't respond; he took another sip of his brandy instead. Joseph watched him for a moment, then shook his head.

"You know, there's a simple solution to all this," Joseph said, shrugging as he also took a drink.

Charles looked at him skeptically. "Oh? Do enlighten me."

"Just do not care," Joseph said with a shrug. "If you do not care about her, you won't care if she betrays you."

"You make a good point," Charles said carefully. "Only it is not the only problem we have. It's not about caring, it is about my name… Could you imagine the ton's reaction if another of my proposals fell through at this minute?"

Joseph shook his head with a gruff laugh. "I can imagine," he admitted now and Charles sighed.

Joseph looked at Charles sympathetically. "So… this marriage… is it going to happen?"

Charles let out a frustrated huff of air. "It has to, I suppose," he admitted dourly. "Not that I know the first thing about marriage."

Joseph let out a laugh at this and he shook his head. "Wait… are you nervous about marriage? A man of your reputation?"

Charles glared at him. "And what reputation would that be?"

"Oh, come now," Joseph chuckled. "The ton's most eligible bachelor? The notorious rake who never commits? Ring any bells?"

Charles sighed, swirling the brandy in his glass. "Reputations can be... misleading."

"Indeed they can," Joseph agreed. "And we must admit that it is easier for those who do not know us to judge us by those reputations."

He left the rest unsaid and Charles shifted in his seat. What more was there to say, after all?

"She sent me a note," he admitted and Joseph raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What did it say?"

Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Joseph, who read it quickly.

"Hmm," Joseph mused, handing the note back. "Sounds like the lady has some questions for you."

Charles nodded, his expression troubled. "I am meeting her tomorrow. For a walk in the park."

"And you're worried about what she might ask?" Joseph surmised.

"Wouldn't you be?" Charles retorted. "You know the rumor mill in this ton and how fast it works. Who knows what she's heard? The ton's dedicated gossipmongers have been working overtime since the ball."

Joseph leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. "Remember what I said, Charles. Just do not care. It's the easiest way to protect yourself."

Charles frowned, staring into his glass. "Is it really that simple?"

"It can be," Joseph shrugged. "If you do not care about her, you won't care if she betrays you. You won't care what she's heard or what she thinks. It's foolproof."

Charles was quiet for a long moment, contemplating Joseph's words. "You are right," he agreed at last. He shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You make it sound so simple."

"It can be," Joseph insisted. "But enough about feelings. Let's talk about something more concrete. Have you and Lady Abigail set a date for the wedding yet?"

Charles shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Not yet. We haven't had much time to discuss the details."

Joseph leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, you'd better get on with that. The ton loves nothing more than a good wedding. I can imagine they are especially excited about this one, since it involves the notorious Duke of Grouton."

Charles groaned. "Do not remind me. The last thing I want is for this to become some grand spectacle."

"Too late for that, I am afraid," Joseph chuckled. "The Duke of Grouton, marrying the sister of the Scottish duke… It is certainly going to have the tongues wagging."

At the mention of Hugh, Charles's expression darkened. "Ah yes, my future brother-in-law. I am certain he will be a joyous presence in my life."

Joseph raised an eyebrow. "Not on the best of terms, are you?"

Charles snorted. "That's putting it mildly. The man looks at me like I am something he scraped off his boot."

"Can you blame him?" Joseph asked. "You did compromise his sister's reputation, after all."

Charles glared at his friend. "Whose side are you on?"

Joseph held up his hands in surrender. "I am just saying, perhaps you should make an effort to mend fences with the duke — for the sake of your impending marriage if nothing else."

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose I have no choice — though I must admit, her overbearing brother is not making this easier."

At this, Joseph frowned and he looked at Charles through narrowed eyes. "You… Charles, do you care for the girl?"

At this, Charles nearly choked on his brandy and he shook his head quickly.

"No, no," he said quickly. "I… she is a sweet girl and of course I feel protective over her — as I would over anyone of her station. But care for her in the manner you're insinuating? No. We are friends — I will admit that. We have become friends over the last few days. Just friends."

"Alright," Joseph said simply, though his look at Charles was filled with doubt. Charles leaned back in his chair with a sigh and returned his attention to his drink.

What use was it, he thought, to tell Joseph that he thought Abigail had a pretty smile? Or that he enjoyed making her laugh and that she managed to make him laugh more than most? No, he decided firmly. They were friends and nothing more.

He caught Joseph's eye and lifted his glass quickly, clinking it against that of his friend's with a stiff smile.

"To not caring," he announced softly — ignoring the insistent voice in the back of his mind that accused him of lying.