Chapter 18
“What in the blazes is he doing here?”
“I beg your pardon?” the Duchess of Huntsdown inquired from behind the subtle waving of her painted fan.
“What is he doing here?” Merry gasped under her breath this time.
Andromeda leaned over the balcony, peering across the darkened way. Despite the fact that it was very nearly time for the play to begin, it was still fairly light in the theater. The dusky candle glow made the audience glitter. Their jewels were upon every foreseeable part of their person and glimmered like a firmament.
“He’s quite the fellow, I’ll give him that,” Andromeda said, her voice low but shocked.
And there, directly across the theater in another prominent box, sat the very man she’d left Scotland to avoid.
“Ye’ve the right of it, Merry. It’s no’ possible,” Andromeda agreed. “The man is a devil.”
“Who?” The duchess asked, apparently thrilled that there was something gasp-worthy occurring. She leaned forward, her curls dancing as she looked about for the topic of their conversation.
“John Forthryte,” Lady Andromeda drawled.
“Earl of Mooreland,” Merry reminded. Stunned as she was, she wasn’t about to cast John back to his bastard state.
“Ah. John.” Duchess Olivia turned her gaze slowly to her brother-in-law, lifted her fan and waved it in acknowledgement. John merely gave them a nod, in return. “Interesting fellow. You know him, Meredith?”
“Far too well,” she replied, unaccountably annoyed. She’d spent days in a coach trying to get to London. Trying to get away. Now here he was.
“How well?” the duchess asked with a surprisingly nuanced tune. “You have met or you have. . .”
She whipped towards the duchess, alarmed at the sudden intimation.
“Ah.” The duchess inclined her head and kept waving her fan ever so slowly. “I see you’ve more than met.”
“He is involved in the business that brought James to call me to London,” she whispered.
“He is notorious,” the duchess remarked. “But I like him. Strange fellow. Intelligent. Odd. Handsome as sin.”
Yes, John was all those things and far more.
Meredith stared and stared at him. Good lord. The candlelight cast a golden hue to his blond locks and he didn’t look at all like the crowd of high and low alike packed into the Drury Lane Theatre.
Dressed in black from head to toe, he looked wild as if he’d just ridden across the country. And that is exactly what he must have done.
“Excuse me, Duchess Olivia,” she said, unable to stop herself. “There is something I must do.”
“You mustn't do it alone,” Duchess Olivia said brightly, though there was a brittle note to her smile. “Or our adventure is over before it’s begun.”
Without further ado, the Duchess of Huntsdown stood, took Merry’s hand and pulled her out into the now dark hall. As the play began, the last of the audience took to their seats.
The duchess pulled her further into the shadow of the curved hall. “Tell me, now. What is between you two? Do you love him? Are you lovers? Or did he simply infuriate you in Scotland?”
The list of the scandalous things that the Duchess of Huntsdown suspected possible were awakening and awful to hear.
“I don’t understand you,” Merry protested.
The duchess snapped her fan shut. “Only a woman in love would do what you are doing.”
“That’s absurd!“ Merry protested.
“Is it?” The duchess pursed her lips then observed, “You’re risking a scene. Either you have no brain or you are in love. The two states oft go hand in hand.”
Merry closed her eyes, thinking of John. Thinking of how he’d, no doubt, say a very pointed, I told you so, Merry. “It seems I have learned little.”
“Some of us are doomed to leap before we look,” the duchess said sympathetically. “I understand rashness. I am guilty of it myself. But pause. John is an untamable thing. It is unlikely that rashness with the likes of him will result in a positive outcome.”
“I told him to go to the devil not five days ago,” Meredith replied, hoping the duchess would see she wasn’t totally mad. “The idea that he’s followed me so quickly? It’s most upsetting. He needs to be told again, it would seem.”
The duchess cocked her head to the side, her diamond ear bob dancing. “Do you think he is here for you?”
That stopped Meredith. What if it was sheer coincidence? What a fool she’d look! My goodness, she assumed he’d raced from Scotland to see her. What if he’d merely felt he’d completed his duty and returned to the city he clearly loved so well?
“I’m mortified,” she confessed. “How conceited of me.”
The duchess squeezed her hand. “My dear, tell me what happened in Scotland.”
Should she? It would give her such relief to have it all out and, yet, she barely knew the woman offering her a friendly ear.
“John and I have a precarious history,” she said instead. “I should loathe him.”
“Many people have good reason to despite his charm and good looks.” The duchess looked askance before amending, “But he has reasons for being loathsome.”
“I know that, now,” Merry agreed sadly. “Not the extent. I think no one does.”
“So, loathing turned to liking?” Duchess Olivia teased gently.
“He surprised me.” Merry almost laughed. For she was still surprised. How had all this come to pass? None of it made sense to her. “There is a side to him he hides from everyone and I saw a glimpse of it. And well. . .”
“You desire him,” Duchess Olivia finished with a pitying shake of her head.
“I do.” Good God, how dangerous to say such a thing! What if she was cast out again. Even so, she swallowed and added, “I won’t deny it.”
“Good. Denying it will get you nowhere, though obviously you mustn’t proclaim it loudly.”
“What should I do?” Meredith asked, genuinely desirous of help.
The duchess hesitated, tapping her fan against her gown. “First, we must see if he did come to London for you.”
“How?” she demanded quietly. “You just told me not to make a scene.”
The duchess grinned. “So I did.”
“Then how-”
“Ignore him, Miss Meredith,” she declared. “Ignore him. Men are like cats. The more you pay attention to them the less they are interested. The less attention you pay them? They will seek you out wherever you are.”
The frown which furrowed her brow was impossible to repress. “How perverse.”
“Yes.” The duchess tugged Meredith’s hand ever so slightly back towards the box. “Come and sit and let us see what he does.”
Meredith blew out a relieved sigh. “Thank you.”
With seeming astonishment, the duchess prompted, “Whatever for?”
“Preventing me from looking like an idiot.”
“You know, you remind me of myself,” the duchess replied ruefully. “I, too, struggled to behave as one ought. Many ladies do, I think. And I can see society’s rules will not be easy for you. The least I can do is help you negotiate them to the best of your ability. That is what my family did for me.”
Meredith drew in a shaky breath.
“Now, head up,” the duchess ordered confidently, “shoulders back, bosoms out.”
Merry laughed. She couldn’t help herself as she followed the duchess back to the box. Bosoms out, indeed. Then she recalled what John had said about men like him. The very best thing was to tell them to hie off. And what better way than to ignore him completely?
***
“They hate me.”
Edward leaned over and whispered, “Who doesn’t?”
“That isn’t the point, lad,” John returned with rather more passion than he intended. He gave his brother a dagger stare.
“Who then?” Edward asked, his lips twitching.
“The gods,” John gritted, staring across the theater, wondering why the devil he’d had to run into her. Now. Tonight. “They are clearly determined to make my life hell.”
“Could your moaning wait?” Garret, their middle brother, growled lightly. “Mrs. Barton is particularly good night.”
“Mrs. Barton is always good,” John countered, unable to look at the stage while the object of his obsession was in the same damned building as he.
“And I’d like to enjoy her performance,” Garret mouthed back.
“Do you not care about my fate?” John demanded.
Edward rolled his eyes.
“What the devil are you on about?” Garret asked quietly.
“Her,” John hissed. “That damned woman.”
Edward coughed on his brandy at John’s vehemence, his snifter pausing mid-air. “Where?”
“Do you know who he’s on about?” Garret asked.
Edward’s eyes widened as he looked across the theater. He slunk down in his chair though it was impossible to hide in a box unless one laid on the floor. “Meredith Trent,” he lamented
“No!” Garret said with decided shock. He looked down at his brother who was clearly trying to hide. It was an impossible task for a man of his size.
Half the people about them turned to stare.
“Don’t be rude,” John couldn’t help saying.
“You began all this,” Garret pointed out.
“But I wasn’t shouting,” John defended.
“Sod it.” Garret turned away from the stage. “Meredith is in town?”
“Over there,” John gritted, trying not to make his observation of her entirely too plain.
Garret narrowed his eyes, looking across the theater then he shook his head. “I can scarce believe it. With James’ wife.”
John nodded. “They’re going to sponsor her.”
Garret blinked. “How do you know this?”
Shrugging, John replied, “James told me”
“And why did no one tell me?” Garret asked. “It seems all of you know.”
“Harriet, I’d guess,” Edward informed him, from his crouched slump.
“What about my wife?” Garret asked, eyeing them both as if they’d lost their minds.
Perhaps they had.
“Does she loathe Meredith?” Edward inquired. “She’d have every reason to.”
“No,” Garret said with surprising honesty. “She’s not spoken with Meredith in months, but not out of animosity on her part. Meredith has simply avoided her attempts.
John nodded. He wasn’t surprised. Harriet was a good sort. “Still, we are all missing my initial declaration.”
“Yes?” Edward and Garret asked as one.
“The gods are against me,” he moaned.
“John,” Garret sighed, “the gods are a notoriously fickle lot who’ve never been particularly fond of you.”
“True,” he admitted before he scowled. “It’s worse now.”
“That’s it. We’re clearly not watching the play,” Garret groaned. “We won’t ruin it for everyone else. Both of you, out.”
Garret stood, then strode out of the box without looking back.
John stared across the theater for a long moment, studying the woman who had driven him close to madness these last days. . . Even apart. Even riding like a demon was on his heels, she’d been in his every waking thought.
Now, she was here, in the flesh and it was infuriating. So, he exited the box. Not because Garret had commanded him, but rather because he couldn’t bear the idea of staring across the theater for the next two hours and attempting not to look at the woman who’d somehow managed to seize the upper hand in their relationship. After all, here in the light of the theater, it was clear to him that she would outshine any woman in her vicinity.
No one, not Lady Andromeda, not his brother’s wife, Duchess Olivia, and certainly not the overdone, jeweled creatures of the ton could touch Meredith’s magnificence.
Edward followed him out and they stood in the shadows.
“Where to?” Edward asked.
“Somewhere without women,” John snapped.
Nodding, Edward offered, “The club then.”
John gave a tight shake of his head. “We were just there and women do gamble there.”
“Not in the boxing area,” Edward pointed out.
“Unlike you Edward, I do not feel the need to spill blood.” John was in a foul mood. A mood he couldn’t quite alter yet. So, he added, “I did quite enough of that in my past, thank you.”
They all had, in truth. His brothers had gone to war. And well, he had known a different sort of war on the back streets of London where one could be knifed for looking at another bloke the wrong way.
“Let’s find James,” Garret said suddenly. “I’ve something to say about Meredith Trent.”
“What?” John immediately demanded. “You leave her alone.”
Garret stared. And then stared again. “I say, John, do you care about Meredith Trent?”
“Now you’re being absurd,” John snapped, tempted to head off alone. But that would, no doubt, only increase Garret’s suspicion.
Giving John a strange look, Garret observed, “I was fairly sure you didn’t care about anyone in particular.”
“He cares about us,” Edward interjected.
“Now. And only after nearly destroying the lot of us,” Garret made plain.
“Not true, Garret. You were never in any danger,” Edward protested.
“Destruction is the wrong word,” John added. “I never intended to destroy any of you.”
Garret let out a mocking noise. “Intent and result are different things. It was a near thing.”
“Are you still upset about that?” John asked, a bit surprised. He’d thought they’d all largely been able to forgive each other for their varied mistakes.
“No,” Garret said. He paused then abruptly challenged, “Do you like her?”
John looked away. “She’s tolerable as a person.”
“John,” Garret groaned. “With you that’s tantamount to a declaration of undying love.”
“I do not love Meredith Trent,” John growled, then snapped his mouth shut as even he heard the intensity of his proclamation.
“My.” Edward’s brows rose. “You’ve struck a nerve.”
“No,” John cut in quickly. This nonsense couldn’t be allowed to continue. “There is no striking. There is no nerve. She is an attractive woman that I feel responsible for. Your brother and I are determined to set last year’s events to rights.”
Edward stuck a finger into John’s chest. “It seems to me, it was yours and James’ meddling that actually caused all the trouble.”
“I didn’t meddle,” John said evenly. “I arranged. And you all bloody deserved it.” He hesitated, realizing that wasn’t quite the truth. “Well, not Emmaline.”
“Or Meredith,” Garret put in dryly.
John scowled, unable to deny it. “She was a very unfortunate collateral happening.”
“John,” Garret began, “You’re one degree from being a villain. We all know it.”
“We all are,” John returned. He wouldn’t be the only one painted with a black brush. He knew he had such a stripe, but he wasn’t alone. “Every damned one of us. Circumstance and fortune are what determine our role in this life, not moral fortitude. Did you learn nothing?”
“You keep asking that question,” Edward said.
“Which makes me think that I ultimately failed,” John bit out.
“No, John.” Garret clapped him on the back. Then he said calmly, “You made us all see what asses we were.”
John nodded at last, relieved to hear that it all hadn’t been in complete vain.
Garret leaned in. “Did you see, too?”
“See what?” John asked, deliberately misunderstanding.
“That your manipulations hurt people?” Garret whispered.
John looked away. “Yes.”
Garret squeezed his shoulder. “You didn’t think you’d care, did you? But you did.”
“Garret, I’m going to strangle you if you try to paint me as a soft buffoon.”
“That is an impossibility,” Garret laughed. “You’re never a buffoon. Ever.”
“So then, what are we doing?” Edward wiped a hand over his face, trying to shed his frustration. “Finding James?”
“Yes. And then gin,” John replied.
Garret’s mouth opened but then he dropped his hand from his brother’s shoulder. “Gin is not your usual pursuit.”
“This is not a usual night,” John replied.
“Fair enough.”
Edward gestured to the hall. “Let us go, then.”
As they headed downward and out to the main entrance, John couldn’t deny the deep feeling within him which suggested that Meredith had barely noticed him. She had not met his gaze. Not once.
In fact, it had been as if he weren’t there at all. And that? That was a surprisingly painful thing, indeed.