Chapter 8

CHAPTER8

In the peace and tranquility of his London townhouse, Adam wandered from room to room with a half-empty bottle of brandy clutched in his hand, swilling down another mouthful whenever a concerned thought popped into his head. As he went, he lamented the delights and pastimes he was about to give up, however temporarily.

“You shall never wrap yourself around a mysterious stranger again, giving her warmth while I steal away to my own chambers,” he accused the bedlinens in the guest room, his throat burning as he took another sip of brandy. “You shall never hear the sighs of bliss again! Goodness, I would not be surprised if I must become a monk, flagellating myself when temptation bites.”

He grumbled obscenities under his breath as he turned and made his way back down to the lower floor, startling one of the maids who was coming up to change his basin of water.

“Apologies, Your Grace,” she said quickly, blushing. “I did not see you there.”

He sniffed. “No, I am the one who should be sorry.”

“Your Grace?” The maid seemed confused.

Adam waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind. Continue as you were.”

In his townhouse and in his country residence, Stapleton Court, he had made a solemn vow to not even look at his young female servants with an appreciative eye. Now and again, one would attempt to seduce him, but rather than give into temptation, he terminated their employment. Word had spread, and since the last dismissal a few years prior, there had been no mishaps in any of his residences.

“Yes, Your Grace.” The maid curtseyed awkwardly with the bucket of fresh water in her hands and hurried up the stairs as if he might chase her. For though he would not have touched her, she undoubtedly knew of his nature, and the fear of what a rake could do was difficult to shake.

Staggering down the stairs, Adam was about to retreat to his front parlor for the rest of the evening, hoping to finish off the bottle of brandy, when the bell rang.

“Oh, what now?” Adam growled, padding to the front door himself.

He wrenched it open, not at all surprised to find Harold ‘Wild Harry’ Armitage on his doorstep.

“Come to pick the bones clean of gossip, have you not?” Adam said, stepping back to let his friend into the house. “One of these days, you are going to have to tell me where you get your information, for I am beginning to think you are the ringleader of a powerful group of spies. Indeed, you do imbibe as if you are French.”

Harry laughed and clapped his friend on the back. “I cannot, and will not, give up my secrets.” He took the bottle from Adam and gulped down a mouthful. “Are we celebrating or commiserating?”

“You tell me.”

“I thought I did that already?” Harry grinned, heading for the parlor without waiting for Adam.

“Indeed, you did,” Adam called after him. “This is all your fault, you know. You put doubts into my head and made me all… righteous for a moment, and now I am to be married.”

Harry poked his head out of the parlor door. “You should know not to listen to a word I say when I have had too much to drink, Robins.” He ducked back into the room, followed by the sound of glasses clinking and drawers clattering. “Where is your good brandy? I refuse to join you in drinking that pigswill.”

With a weary sigh, Adam made his way into the parlor, to find Harry pouring some of his best brandy into a glass.

“Well, I hope you realize that this is the end of our carousing,” Adam said, retrieving his own “pigswill” from a nearby side table. “From now on, I shall have to be a pillar of society, doing whatever it is that dull husbands do. Mercy, do you think I will have to talk about the weather and the price of coal, and never anything more?”

“Nonsense,” Harry replied, sinking down into one of the large armchairs. “I shall find myself a wife, they shall be firm friends, they shall invite all of their friends and their friends’ husbands, and we can carouse in a more respectable fashion, hosting dinner parties and hunting expeditions.”

Adam pulled a face. “Is that why you put those notions into my head? So that you could finally give up your bachelorhood and find someone to make an honest man out of you? If so, you should have kept me out of it.”

“It cannot be that bad. I hear from my sources that she is exceptionally beautiful and known to be quite witty. What is there to complain about?”

“It is the opposite of what I have pursued for years,” Adam replied, his thoughts drifting to that night by the lake—the moonlight catching the gold in her hair, creating an angelic halo; her ferocious eyes, the color of summer leaves; the pillowy pink of her lips, slightly parted; the way she had gripped his lapel, pulling him closer.

He shook the memory away, blaming the brandy.

“Well, yes, there is that.” Harry sipped his drink. “But I did warn you to ignore the letter that Miss Eastleigh sent. If you had heeded me, you would not be in this predicament. Not right now, anyway, though it was only a matter of time until you made a mistake. You have become too bold in recent months.”

Adam stared at him. “Are you not supposed to be my friend? When did you become my tormentor? I am aware that I made a terrible mistake. Am I not paying for it handsomely?”

“Apologies.” Harry grimaced. “I already had several glasses of brandy at Smithson’s. My tongue is too loose. Of course, I am your constant ally and support, my good man. And you pay for everything handsomely, you beautiful devil.” He stifled a snort. “But you have proposed marriage to her, have you not?”

Adam nodded. “It has been accepted. Swinton could not shake my hand fast enough.”

“That is preferable to him putting a dueling pistol into your hand,” Harry pointed out, chuckling. “Still, if you are having doubts, it is not too late for you to rescind the proposal. The damage is already done, either way, so it depends on the fate you wish to inflict on Lady Nancy. Throw her to the wolves to save your skin, or don sheep’s clothing for a while. It is entirely your decision.”

Adam stared down at his brandy bottle, unused to feeling so somber. He preferred joy and laughter and noise and revelry—anything that could help push back creeping shadows of pain and bitter memories. Among others, with a drink in his hand and a beautiful woman in his lap, he never had to feel small or insignificant.

“As you already know, or you would not be here, my decision has been made,” he said firmly. “I will not make her suffer for my mistake. And though you were inebriated when you said it, you were right to remind me of the vow I made. She must be the exception, there is no escaping it.”

Harry raised his glass. “So, this is a partial celebration?”

“More of a last hurrah,” Adam replied, with a gruff laugh.

Harry sat up straighter, tilting his head to one side. “You truly mean to be loyal to her?” He set down his glass. “I was jesting before. I mean, you would not be the first husband to indulge in a few affairs. No one would scold you for it.”

“For a while, at least, for the sake of appearances,” Adam said. “But it will be just a marriage of convenience. Nothing more. After enough time has passed, we will lead our separate lives, and I will learn how to be more discreet. I will not change who I am, but I shall not embarrass her.”

Harry expelled a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness! I really thought you were abandoning me for a moment there.” He took up his glass. “Do you think she is the sort of lady that will take lovers?”

“I cannot say,” Adam replied, reclining on the settee. “She seems chaste, but how often have we encountered similar ladies and found them to be anything but? Perhaps she shall relish in her newfound freedom, once our confinement is concluded.”

Harry grinned. “I shall toast to that.”

“As shall I.” Adam raised his bottle and took a long swig, still uneasy about the future.

Having never been betrothed before, he did not know how he was supposed to feel about his soon-to-be bride. He doubted there could be many gentlemen out there who were willing to allow their wives to seek lovers outside their marriage, and as he sat back and contemplated it, he was not entirely sure how hefelt about it either.

“It is different for them, I suppose,” Harry said, as if to himself. “There are greater risks.”

Adam shrugged. “Those risks do not concern me. If she wishes to seek a lover, I shall not stop her.” As the words left his mouth, he found that he meant it. “Why should she be denied affection, just because she has been saddled with me? No, because I have saddled her with me.”

“But what of children? If she carries another man’s child, would you raise it as your own?” Harry raised a curious eyebrow as he swirled the brandy in his glass.

A broad grin spread across Adam’s face, his unease suddenly softened by a honeyed wave of satisfaction. “My dear friend, I would be delighted to. Indeed, I doubt anything could make me happier.”

“A child of your own?” Harry said with an awkward laugh.

Adam shook his head. “Not if I can help it.”

“What if you cannot?”

“Cannot what?”

Harry smirked. “Help it.”

“I have more restraint than you think,” Adam replied, a note too quickly, for if thoughts of her beauty and her intriguing charm and her shapely figure kept sneaking into his head when she was not near him, what might happen when she was?

How ironic.

He brought the rim of the bottle to his lips, and as he took another sip, thinking of her, he wondered if he might be the first husband in the history of husbands who would have to do everything within his power to resist his wife.