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“N o, I’m sorry, but I won’t. I can’t.” Ellen said, still not turning from the window.

“Ah. I see. Er, why not?”

“I… I simply don’t think it would work… with you. I love you, Richard, but not… not in the way a wife should love her husband,” she admitted, finally turning around to face him.

He gave her a little smile. “We grew up together. It’s not surprising you don’t feel that way about me.”

“Do you?” she couldn’t help but ask.

He gave a little shrug of one shoulder. “I’ve always loved you. I’ve always been mildly attracted to you, but… no. I think… I think I might... well, hopefully, someday I will find someone with whom I am madly, passionately in love. If not, I think I will be just as happy on my own.”

“You were always happy on your own,” she agreed.

“And I’ve always wanted you to be happy.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. It was true, she knew it.

“But what about the annulment? Won’t that ruin your reputation?” he asked.

She nodded. “It will, but it will be all right. I’ve got very good friends who will support me and stand behind me.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

Thinking of her friends, an idea came to her mind. “Would you be interested in one last hurrah?”

“What do you mean?”

She smiled. “I’m going to a ball this evening. Would you care to join me?”

He raised his eyebrows and then swallowed the rest of his drink. “Thank you for the invitation, but no. I have neither the wardrobe nor the desire to attend a ball. You go and celebrate your newfound freedom before you have to work on rebuilding your reputation.”

She laughed, despite the terrifying truth in his words.

~*~

Christopher had eased himself out into public once before by going to Powell’s. Perhaps doing so would work the second time he attempted to do this.

Freddie hadn’t been able to stop smiling the entire time he’d helped Christopher dress for the evening. He’d been smart enough to hold his tongue, but he clearly couldn’t stop his face from adopting that stupid grin and allowing it to stay there.

At the door to the club, a footman bowed him into the establishment. “Good evening, Lord Pennyston.”

Christopher gave him a nod before proceeding into the reading room. He wasn’t certain he actually wanted to speak with anyone. No, he needed to ease into this. First a drink or quite possibly two, then he’d see how he felt.

He had just started his second when Colburne joined him.

“Well, well, haven’t seen you in some time,” his friend said, raising a hand to call for a footman as he took the chair opposite. Before Christopher could say anything, Colburne continued, “Diana told me you were having some difficulties. I meant to come over yesterday, but I’m afraid I was called out on a medical emergency.”

“Aren’t all medical calls an emergency?” Christopher asked.

“Not all, but a good number of them are. The plight of a physician.” Colburne gave a little chuckle. He sobered quickly, though. “I heard you’ve been having a hard time.”

“The ladies’ grapevine?” Christopher asked.

“Don’t be angry. They look out for one another. Think of the Wagering Whist Society as a sort of a family—with all the good and bad that implies.”

Christopher gave a little laugh, but it lacked humor.

“What they don’t do is give details. Care to share?”

“Not particularly.”

“It might help.”

The look Colburne gave him made him both want to hit the man and hug him for being a good friend. So, Christopher told him.

Oddly enough, he was able to give the man all the details he’d been unable to share with his batman. He supposed time did heal all wounds. Perhaps his pain would soon be moving on. It was a positive thought—the first one he’d had in days.

When he’d finished his story, Colburne just sat there, shaking his head in disbelief. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am to hear this. It sounds like it was a horrific experience.”

Christopher sighed, grateful for good, understanding friends. “It was. It truly was. I just… how much longer am I going to have to be the monster, Colburne? Is this going to be for the rest of my life? How am I going to deal with that? Lady Moreton was kind enough to remind me that my wound is so very slight compared to what others have suffered. She didn’t say it, but she seemed to be implying I was making a big deal of nothing.” He paused and then shook his head. “It is my vanity that has been more severely wounded than anything else. I don’t know that I could even call myself a man if I couldn’t let go of that.”

Colburne reached out and placed a hand on Christopher’s shoulder. “You are not a lesser man. We all are subservient to our vanity, and yes, yours has taken quite a beating recently. But I think it’s more than that. The surface wound may seem small, but I have a feeling that it is only the tip of the iceberg. Inside, there is a great deal more that is wounded.”

Christopher frowned at him but knew he was absolutely right. “The way I reacted to that battlefield painting…”

“Precisely.”

“What can I do?”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do. Time and, well, perhaps Lady Moreton’s gentle care is the only cure. But you can’t let this stop you from living your life.”

Christopher could only nod. He knew this to be true—now, thanks to Lady Moreton’s insistence that he get out and go about his life. It had been she who had brought him out of his shell to begin with, and for that, he would always be grateful. “I seem to have treated those who try to help unfairly.”

“Lady Moreton?”

“Many people, but especially her.”

“I think you need another drink.”

Christopher laughed and couldn’t agree more. Colburne ordered a bottle this time.

As they waited, Christopher glanced around the room.

“No one’s staring,” Colburne pointed out.

Christopher turned back to him. “No, they’re not. And there are a number of people here who I haven’t seen before.”

Colburne nodded. “You are not the monster, Pennyston.”

“Colburne, Pennyston, good to see you this evening,” Wickford said, coming over with the footman.

“Evening, Wickford. How are things? Is your new liquor…” Colburne started.

“Sadly, it’s not as popular as I would have hoped. The good news is that I don’t seem to have lost many of the members despite that,” Wickford said. He shook his head as if he could hardly believe what he was saying.

“But that’s brilliant news! And not at all surprising,” Colburne told him.

“Ah, Pennyston! Just the man I wanted to see,” Mr. Sherman said, coming up from behind Wickford.

Christopher stood. “Mr. Sherman, this is a pleasant surprise. May I just say how very sorry I am—”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. No need. I need to speak with you regarding that little matter, if you don’t mind.” Mr. Sherman put his hand on Christopher’s shoulder and guided him away from the other men.

“I beg your pardon,” Christopher said, turning back to his friends.

“Not at all. Go ahead,” Colburne said, indicating for Wickford to take the chair Christopher had been sitting in.

He and Mr. Sherman found a couple of seats closer to the wall on the other side of the room. “I was planning on coming to see you tomorrow. Glad I ran into you this evening,” Mr. Sherman began.

“Of course.”

“I want to buy your building,” the man started.

Christopher was a little confused. Hadn’t his solicitor explained that the building couldn’t be sold since it was a hospital? He hated to turn down such an excellent opportunity, but he knew how much St. Camillus meant to Lady Moreton, not to mention the wonderful care they had given Freddie. “I’m very sorry, sir, but—”

Mr. Sherman lifted both hands, and Christopher stopped speaking. “I know, it’s a hospital, and I’m going to keep it that way. In fact, I’m going to enlist my daughter to work on refurbishing it—new beds, windows, operating theatre—whatever they need. I’ve set aside a sum of money so they can get started, and then Gwendolyn will raise whatever else is needed. I’m quite hoping Lady Moreton will assist her.”

Christopher found himself sitting at the edge of his seat. “Really? But… but why would you do this?” He realized how rude that sounded and immediately added, “I mean, that’s extremely generous, but may I ask what changed your mind?”

Mr. Sherman just gave a little chuckle. “You might say a little bird whispered in my ear, telling me this would be a good thing to do. No, no, I won’t say who the bird was, just, er, what do you say I have my solicitor speak with yours first thing tomorrow morning, and we’ll get this thing done?”

“Of course! I’ll send ‘round a note giving instructions to see the matter finalized. And what of your original intentions for the building?” Christopher asked.

The smile on Mr. Sherman’s face faltered only very slightly. “The same bird pointed out that I was wrong in my estimation of what would make Mrs. Rutledge happy.”

“Mrs. Rutledge?” Christopher asked. He actually had no idea why Mr. Sherman had wanted to buy the building to begin with.

“Oh, er, yes. I’d wanted to turn the building into a home for her, but, well, she would rather move to America, so we’re going to be doing that—after a proper wedding, of course.”

Christopher could only raise his eyebrows at that. “Well, congratulations! America. That’s a big step.

“Even bigger than you can imagine. And you know I can’t simply move to another continent and not start a new business over there.”

“Of course.” Christopher thought about it for a moment. “You have cloth-making factories here, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, that makes sense. They grow cotton in America. It’ll be much easier not to have to ship it. You can simply ship the finished product here to be sold.”

A smile spread across Mr. Sherman’s face. “Precisely! Knew you’d see it right away. It’s why I want you to come with me.”

Christopher nearly jumped from his chair. “I beg your pardon?”

“Said I want you with me. You are just the sort of man I need to help me get started in a new place.”

“Me? I mean, I am? I don’t know the first thing about manufacturing.”

“No, but you’re good with people. You’re a clever lad and have a good head on your shoulders. You know how to deal with adversity too. Even if times are hard, I know I’ll be able to count on you to keep your head and work things out.”

Christopher could only shake his head. “Sir, I’m not too sure you know me as well as you think you do.”

“You would be surprised. I’ve got more than one little bird whispering in my ear, you know.”

“I… have to be honest with you. I am not good in dealing with difficulties. I’m sure your little bird didn’t mention my outing to the panorama with Lady Moreton and the aftermath of that.” Christopher simply could not be completely forthright with this gentleman, despite the incredible opportunity he was being offered.

Mr. Sherman took a sip from his drink. “As a matter of fact, I do know of that. Heard you went sprinting from a painting of a battle scene when some woman started screaming.”

Christopher could only nod, his throat was suddenly somehow too tight to speak.

“That must have been incredibly painful. I’ve heard stories of what soldiers like you have had to deal with.” He paused and looked Christopher directly in the eye. “But you’re here, now, aren’t you?”

“This is the first time I’ve been out since…”

“You are here,” Mr. Sherman repeated.

Christopher stopped fighting with the man. “Yes, I am, thanks to Lady Moreton, who reminded me how very lucky I am to have merely suffered a saber wound.”

“Called you a coward, did she?” Mr. Sherman asked with a chuckle.

Christopher smiled. “Not precisely.”

“No, she’s too much of a lady to do that, but that’s what she meant, I’m sure.”

Christopher laughed. “Almost certainly.”

“She’s a good one.”

“Yes, she is—very much so.” Christopher nodded.

“Well, you think about what I said. The offer is there.” Mr. Sherman threw back his head, emptying his glass. With a nod, he got up and left.

Moving to America, the thought teased Christopher. If he could do that… it would be an entirely new start for him. New place, new people, new opportunities. He liked that thought very much, very much indeed.

He could almost see himself doing so with Ellen, especially now that she was going to get her marriage annulled. But would she want to move abroad? Would she want to be with him?

Mr. Sherman was going to be offering her just what she’d been wanting for some time—the opportunity to remake St. Camillus. She could have a significant role in the refurbishment of that hospital.

Why would she even consider marrying Christopher with all of his problems when she had everything she already knew she wanted right here?