Absolute Surrender (47 page)

Charles shook his hand, then turned and left. He still had a man to find.

Hugh had no idea what he was to do next. He
’
d gone to White
’
s, made a circuitous appearance, a few well-placed nods, then left. Hugh wasn
’
t in the mood for talk, bets, seeing or being seen. But at least he
’
d been and done his duty. For what was he now if he didn
’
t keep his word?

Now he sat at a table in the back of the Iron Duke, a pint warming between his hands.

Hiding.

At the bottom of a glass.

Coward. Coward. Coward.

The word bounced and echoed in his head. He heard the chair next to him slide as someone took a seat, but he didn
’
t lift his gaze from the deep amber liquid.

“You
’
ve finally turned Amelia over to her future husband then?” It was Perry
’
s voice beside him. Hugh was at least thankful for that. Perry was Lord Peregrine Trumbull, the Viscount Roxleigh, brother to one of the most powerful dukes in the UK and recently married to someone quite beneath him. If anyone knew of scandal, and the quashing of such, it was this man. In fact, if anyone were familiar with mental illness, this man was. His mother had been committed to Bedlam when he was young, and his brother
’
s wife nearly had been as well.

Perhaps—but, no, there was no help for him anymore.

“Husband,” Hugh grunted out.

“Is that so? I hadn
’
t heard—”

Hugh cut Perry off with a wave. “It
’
s not yet official, but she
’
s truly his wife. There
’
s no going back on it at this point.” Hugh didn
’
t mind alluding to what he was with Perry, because he knew Perry would never speak of this with anyone, as he was happily married and had no need to impress anyone in the
ton
and, truthfully, never had attempted to anyway. Perry was safe.

“I see, and what of you then, Hugh? We always thought her father would give up on his sights for the Castleberry, or that she would wait him out and marry you to spite him,” Perry said.

Hugh shook his head slowly. “I would never have been able to protect her. You know more than most. You know how the
ton
treats women. She would have been ruined, could possibly have been committed once Pembroke died—or if she were disagreeable, possibly before then. You understand.”

Hugh saw Perry nod. “I do understand that particular difficulty, but happen to believe, as my brother does, that doctors, conventions, opinions, are not always correct. You have to listen to your heart. If you believe this woman to be sound, or at least sound enough to be a wife, then why wouldn
’
t you pursue and protect her to the best of your ability regardless of the
ton
and her father?”

“I do believe this, with all my heart, it only…the situation is so difficult. She thinks…and now Castleberry believes…that she needs me in her life.”

“Perhaps she does. You may know her better than most at this point. What do you believe?”

“That I was meant for her.”

“Then what
’
s the issue exactly?”

“Her father won
’
t allow us to marry. She
’
s promised, and now, well…”

“Married but not married?” Perry asked.

“Yes. Married but not. I believe Jacks will learn to handle her, and they will suit. I believe this.”

“Does he love her as well?”

“I believe he does, though he has yet to acknowledge the fact.”

“So it isn
’
t merely a cockfight, but that you both love and care for this woman, who loves, cares and needs the both of you, albeit for different reasons. And, finally, the problem, that she cannot have you both. Is this correct?”

“That is…the simple of it, I suppose,” Hugh said.

“So what of you, then?” Perry asked again, a bit more somberly.

Hugh shivered. “What of me? Does it matter? I
’
ll find some woman who wants to bear me children and leave me be. Perhaps that Elliott girl. I know she would be amenable to that.”

“You
’
re an ass,” Perry said after a moment of silence.

Hugh looked at him then.

Perry continued. “Who do you find yourself talking to? You truly believe this kind of martyr speech will set well with me? Try again, and this time attempt to avoid speaking like a buffoon. If you wish for the world to treat women better, then you, yourself, must do the same. Don
’
t pretend to throw yourself away on some chit in the
ton
. We shall cease being friends.”

Hugh blinked down at his ale, then looked back to Perry, who continued to stare at him in challenge. “We were together, the three of us, and it was one of the happiest moments of my life. One that can never be repeated. A situation that would never suffice. I—” Hugh shook his head, quite unbelieving that he
’
d even spoken of what had happened in the Cliff House.

“Well, why is it you cannot be together? The three of you? I understand Castleberry
’
s land is far from London, rather out in the wilds on the coast. Unless you invite people there—”

Hugh shook his head, momentarily shocked by Perry
’
s easy acceptance. “And what happens to me when they don
’
t need me anymore?”

“Oh, so that wasn
’
t the simple of it. I see.”

Hugh felt like he was shrinking into the background. Where once he
’
d been the single most important person to Amelia, now he was one of two. If he continued on this path, he would mean nothing to her. That was something he couldn
’
t stomach. “I am too much the coward,” he said quietly.

“That much is blatantly obvious. Love requires bravery, my friend. You cannot be shy. You cannot be lax. You must stand for something, be someone. Amelia needs for you to be something, and you
’
ve taken that away. In her state, what do you think that
’
s done to her?”

“I haven
’
t seen her. I left her at the Cliff House with Castleberry. Alone.” He knew he was becoming agitated. He should have been watching his words more carefully.

Perry looked around, then grabbed his arm. “Let
’
s go before you damage the lot of you. Come, I
’
ve a sudden need to kiss my lovely wife, regardless,” Perry said.

Hugh grunted as Perry pulled him up, holding on until Hugh got his legs beneath him. How many pints
had
he managed?

Amelia dug through the boxes in her sitting room, wondering what she was to do with all of it. It seemed she
’
d managed to keep so much from her past that her future was to be burdened by it. Trinkets, clothing, even natural artifacts like rocks and leaves. She was overwhelmed both by the thought of moving it and of disposing of it all—for she remembered every single moment attached to every single piece. That was what mattered to her. She had a room like this in both houses, here in London as well as at Pembroke-by-the-Sea. Some of the most important of the boxes traveled with her.

Each little thing took her back, immediately, to the time and place from whence it came, and it calmed her to revisit these things, because they were all joyous memories. That was all she kept in these boxes, the hopeful memories, not the bad, never the dark. She visited the dark enough as it was. There was no use in her keeping remembrances of it. So here she sat in a dim room next to her own bedchamber, full to brimming with boxes of things from the past. And what did it all mean to her future?

She wished she had the reticule, the one Charles had thrown in the pond. But she didn
’
t, and of course she didn
’
t. That reticule was at the bottom of a pond. She regretted that, even that in the keeping of the reticule, the moment that had made it important would never have happened. She considered it, remembered that day so very clearly. The moment he
’
d picked it up and weighed it in his hand to determine the strength with which to toss it. The reticule taking flight, the sun glinting off of it as it sailed through the open air. The beating of the wings from the startled geese as they took flight when the reticule-bomb hit the water amongst them and exploded in a shimmer of water.

She didn
’
t need the actual reticule to remember these things, and she suddenly realized her memory of that moment might be stronger for it. Because, while in some of these things she remembered the moments surrounding them, some of them she remembered more for the keeping of them. The why she remembered, of course, but the moments, the feelings, the exhalation and reasoning behind the wish to keep? Not as much.

She could live a second lifetime in this room just remembering…or she could go out in the world and create new memories with Charles and Hugh.

Hugh
.

Amelia pulled a familiar box toward her. The box held some rocks from trips to the stream and a snubbed candle she
’
d used to sneak out of her rooms to meet Hugh at the back of the house, after which they ran to the Cliff House and lay gazing up at the stars as they fell from the sky. It contained the linen sheet they’d lain upon…well, what was left of it, as it had become so weary-worn with time that it was no longer truly a single piece. Louisa had tried to persuade her to keep just a square of it, but Amelia hadn
’
t been able to part with any bit of it. This box also contained pressed, dried flowers that Hugh had given her that night.