Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

S lamming the doors to the gallery shut, Adrian cursed low and hard under his breath—the words would make even his aunt blush scarlet.

What just happened?

His hands shook so badly he had to clench them into fists. He turned and stormed down the hall, headed nowhere in particular.

A mess this was and a mess he was. In particular, around Charlotte. Since the moment he had realized the intensity of his feelings for her, he found himself in a muddled whirlwind he could not pull free from. It thrilled him, but most of all, it exasperated him. This left him with little patience for anyone, including himself.

And apparently her. I should never have shouted at her like that. Still, she didn’t cower. Charlotte appears to fear absolutely nothing. Another perfect skill for a duchess.

Shaking his head at the notion, he put it out of his mind, as he knew he could never have her. A union between himself and Charlotte could never work. What had happened in the art gallery a moment ago was proof enough that they could never spend the rest of their lives together.

The temptation lingered throughout the day, leaving him unsettled and agitated. He quit attempting to manage his correspondence only to hover on the threshold of the music room, where Charlotte often played the piano before supper, listening to the cheerful melodies she created.

“If you wish to, you can speak with her.”

Adrian stiffened at the sound of his aunt’s voice. His heart had nearly stopped. How had she crept up on him like that? Caught snooping on another, he warily glanced at Theodosia, who offered him an innocent and pretty smile.

“Go on,” she prompted. “You must have much on your mind.”

“We have nothing to talk about,” he said.

The old woman raised an eyebrow while leaning forward on her cane. “Adrian, there is no need to hide in the shadows when the way to the light is staring you in the face.”

“The sun has already set.”

She huffed. “I think you’re being obstinate because you have forgotten how to do anything else.”

“And if it is?” he asked before shaking his head.

He didn’t want to hear what else she might say about that. As his aunt had disturbed his momentary peace, he immediately took his leave. Though Theodosia called after him, he kept walking till he was outside.

He climbed into his curricle and ordered the driver to take him to his club.

Although there were endless entertainments to be had at a club, Adrian found none of them appetizing. He just needed a place that wasn’t home. Home made him think of her . So he carried on in the hopes of finding a quiet place to enjoy for a short time.

Mr. Borden was seated in the quiet library with a bottle of brandy and a book on his lap. Looking up when Adrian stepped in, he offered a courteous nod.

“Welcome back, Your Grace. Here for another visit? What is it this time? I can see you are disturbed.”

“No, I’m fine, I…” Adrian realized he didn’t believe his own words and neither did his friend. He hesitated, still trying to sort through the emotions warring inside him. “Or perhaps I am not. All the same, I should not be here in London. Yet, here I am. I will need to leave soon.”

Nodding, Mr. Borden watched him walk further into the room and take a seat in the low leather chair across from him. The man poured him a glass of brandy before settling back in his chair. He took his time and never rushed.

“Where will you go?” he asked, at last.

Adrian gave a shrug as he studied the swirling liquid in the thick glass. “It hardly matters right now. I only need to get out of here.” Then he downed his drink.

“If you are not chasing something, then what are you running from?”

Fortunately, there wasn’t time to answer that question. The double doors Adrian had entered through a minute ago suddenly burst open to reveal several men deep in their cups. They waved their glasses and laughed. A few in the back sang a familiar bawdy song. At the lead was Lord St. Anne, a man who had been carrying his title since infancy and a notorious rake. At his elbow was Morseth, who could never hold his drink.

“I thought I saw you!” Lord St. Anne pointed at Adrian. “The Duke himself! Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

All Adrian did was reach for Borden’s bottle of brandy and refill his cup. He took his time. “Why should I say anything for myself?”

Morseth groaned. “Come now, Wakefield. You’re making me lose in the books. I bet one hundred pounds on you. And here you are, pitiful amongst the books.” Every word slurred into the next. “Where are your women? Where are your exploits?”

“You were famous at university,” added Lord St. Anne cheerfully. “One would think you’d enjoy the fun here as well. I don’t mind, as I’m taking the bets from him, but I’m beginning to pity poor Morseth here. Tell us, then, surely you’ve been having fun somewhere?”

Adrian took a long gulp. Exploits? Women? He had no time for that. No time for even these friends he might have been drunk with had matters been different.

Every beat of his heart made him think of Charlotte.

Offering a bitter smile, he couldn’t bring himself to be entertained by the other lords. They could make fools of themselves all they liked. But he was tired of that; he saw how lonely that could be and found himself wanting something more.

Something better, at least. More than someone to entertain me for a day or two. I want someone there every day to keep me company, whom I can entertain and host grand events with, and… Blast it, that nearly describes a marriage. That is not it!

“I must apologize,” Adrian spoke over the other young lords as they hummed another bawdy song. “I’ll get on such matters right away. I’ll start gathering interest now, shall I?”

“Yes!”

“There he goes!”

Half the group began to cheer loudly while the other continued singing. Morseth and Lord St. Anne waved their glasses at him before taking the lead.

The crowd quickly dispersed. Soon, the doors were closed again. It was just Adrian and Mr. Borden.

When Adrian straightened up to face his friend, the man was studying him with a raised eyebrow.

“Something has happened to you,” Mr. Borden declared. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Adrian confessed.

He didn’t want to know either. He just wanted it to end. Looking down at his glass, he studied the deep amber drink. It was a fine vintage that sat on his tongue, its flavor rich and heady. He should be enjoying this much more, but truthfully, everything was losing its flavor to him. Spirits had never held much interest for him, and now everything was fading.

The only brightness in his life was Charlotte. Was he really at this stage of madness where he craved just the opportunity to argue with her?

Adrian grunted in irritation before picking up the bottle again.

“Is it that sort of night, then?” Mr. Borden asked in mild amusement.

“Don’t,” Adrian warned.

The two of them fell silent. While his friend returned to his book, a large volume about the landscapes northwest of London, Adrian sat there and stewed.

It’s true. I wouldn’t care for even the embrace of another woman. What used to be so easy now feels impossible. I can feel Charlotte clawing at me, shouting at me, teasing me. All I want is her. No other replacement would do.

There was no need for him to pay for the attention of a woman who would croon dramatics in his ear as if they stood on a stage. He didn’t want something that wasn’t real. He had passed that point of no return—he needed something different.

He needed Charlotte.

Adrian drank in silence, considering all of the quiet moments between the loud ones. Because even those quiet ones that had been loud to him. The thumping of his heart grew louder while he thought of the way she held on to him so tentatively when they were in public. He thought of the way her dark green eyes sought him out whenever they were out in public. He remembered the feel of her knee against his while going on afternoon rides.

Even when they didn’t have private moments, he wanted to watch her wrinkle her nose when she was confused. He could watch her read a book, the way she would smile and laugh to herself before turning a page.

He wanted all of that, even the way she shouted back at him whenever he could not control himself.

“You’re not like him,” she had told him earlier that day.

He didn’t want to believe her, didn’t dare to hope.

“And just because you fight me doesn’t make you anything like him. I rather enjoy our fights. They don’t mean anything.”

Except that they mean everything, at the end of the day.

“Say, Your Grace,” Mr. Borden spoke up after Adrian had started on a second bottle of brandy. “You’re not trying to drink yourself to death, are you?”

“Is it working?” Adrian asked, his tongue thick and heavy with the sweetness of his drink. And yet, he still couldn’t get Charlotte out of his mind.

“Not in particular. Why don’t we call your carriage around, eh? You can enjoy the rest of your evening in a place where you’ll have a proper bed close by.”

Adrian huffed in amusement. “Don’t be ridiculous. Anything’s a bed.”

Though he’d convinced himself he was merely enjoying the experience of being truly soused where he could hardly keep his thoughts straight, the world became blurry as he was helped out of the club and into his carriage. He finished off the second brandy bottle inside. When he arrived at Bradford House and stepped out of the carriage, the world spun too quickly.

“Good Lord.” Someone grabbed his elbow.

Squinting at the blurry figure, Adrian stumbled over a step. “Lloyd, is that you?”

“I’m afraid so. What have you done to yourself, Your Grace? I never took you for the happy soused sort.”

“I’m not happy. Or soused.”

Something of a grumble escaped the butler as they made it to the front door. Adrian grabbed hold of the doorframe for balance, but his feet wouldn’t work. He and Lloyd had to take his legs one by one to get them over the threshold. A scowl settled on his face once he was inside.

“No,” he decided and started to move back.

Lloyd kept him upright when the world spun, nearly knocking him off his feet. He grunted at the strain. When Adrian straightened up, however, all he saw was the disappointed look on the butler’s face.

“I can do what I want,” he felt the need to point out.

“It would appear so. Why don’t we take you to your bedchamber before anyone finds you in this state?”

Alas, that wasn’t going to happen.

“What state? Goodness gracious! Adrian?” Theodosia’s voice grew louder than the clicking of her cane on the hardwood floor. “You’re about to topple over.”

“No, the world just keeps spinning,” Adrian corrected her.

When he began to sway, Lloyd led him to a nearby chair.

The butler and his aunt talked quietly, but their words flew over his head. He could hardly think straight. He didn’t think he could see straight. While part of him was aware that he’d managed to get himself more drunk than he had ever been in his youth, the other part of him realized it hadn’t been enough.

Even the doorway… it smells of her.

“As though strong spirits would do anything to fix your problems.” Theodosia returned in his line of vision. With him holding tight to the chair to keep from falling off, she grabbed his chin to make him look at her. “You’ll most likely forget this by morning. But I want you to remember two things.”

“I don’t think so,” he managed.

She continued, undeterred. “The first is that I am extremely vexed with you. Disappointed, even.”

“That’s two things,” Adrian slurred.

“It’s hardly one,” his aunt said with a shake of her head. “And the other matter is that you better pull yourself together. You’re fortunate she has already retired for the evening. There is a ball tomorrow evening. You’re going to dance with her then, and afterward, you will marry her, or you’ll find her a better match. One who doesn’t come home reeking of cigars and brandy.”

“It’s good brandy,” he mumbled.

His aunt huffed, muttering under her breath as she took her leave.

Thick as his head felt right then, Adrian found himself morose to ignite a fire in her like that. It was easier to disappoint his aunt when he didn’t have to look her in the eye.

Then appeared Lloyd. “Here you go, Your Grace,” he muttered while helping him to his feet.

No pleasant chatter from the butler on their way to his bedchamber. Adrian found himself rather put out that the man offered not a word on the entire walk. The man had never stayed silent for so long. It unnerved Adrian.

There was a pounding that grew in his head. He welcomed it, needing a distraction when he realized that even the butler was disappointed in him.

He eventually arrived at his bedchamber. Lloyd and Lionel helped him to bed after removing his outer layers, and then they left him in peace as he asked. He couldn’t bear the judgment in their eyes. That had never bothered him before, but a small voice in the back of his head said nothing was as it used to be.

I cannot live like this. Something must be done. I hate to say it, but Aunt Theodosia is right.

He was dimly aware he would have to do something about Charlotte on the morrow. A life of drinking would not help him. He couldn’t bear another evening like this one.

The sooner she was off his hands, Adrian decided as sleep overtook him, the better off he would be.