Page 35 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

Lucas slipped away following breakfast the next morning. He’d been to the club only a few days before, but he needed an update on the current situation with the men they’d helped. And a round or two of boxing for both their business and his own sanity.

Charlie stopped him in the hall, blocking his exit. Lucas had been increasingly frustrated with his brother of late. Of course, he knew deep down it was because of his conflicted emotions regarding Miss Faraday, but he did not like to fixate on that, so he’d just stewed in his annoyance.

“Leaving?” Charlie asked.

Lucas nodded.

“Where are you off to?”

“Business.”

“At ten in the morning?”

Lucas pressed his eyes shut. “Business does not wait for London Society’s times.”

Charlie crossed his arms. “I think business waits for most people. What if we went for a ride in Hyde Park? Played a game of chess? Since our outings with Miss Faraday ended, I feel we’ve hardly seen one another.”

“It is no different than it was before the outings.”

Uncharacteristically, Charlie shifted his weight. He almost seemed uncomfortable. “Well, we could make it different. Come, play a game with me.”

Lucas shook his head, the need to move propelling him closer to the door. “I don’t have the time.”

Charlie scoffed but stepped out of the way. “Of course not.”

He did not want to, but he paused, looking back as he put his hat on his head. “What does that mean?”

Again, his brother looked uncomfortable, but he met Lucas’s eyes without wavering. “Honestly, Lucas, you lost a sister when Marietta died, but sometimes it feels as if I lost both a sister and a brother.”

Lucas physically pulled back, the force of Charlie’s unexpected words hitting him painfully. He raised his brows, unable to come up with a response between his surprise and the pain that always accompanied mention of Marietta.

“For a while there, I thought that maybe...” Charlie scoffed again and shook his head. “Forget it. Enjoy your outing.”

Before Lucas could say anything, his brother had spun and disappeared from the hall. Lucas watched the vacated spot for several long seconds. Should he follow? What had prompted that... that comment? It was uncharacteristic of Charlie, but more than that, it had seemed deeply set in pain.

Pain.

Had Lucas caused Charlie pain? Just by... what? What had it meant that he’d lost a sister and a brother? Lucas had gone nowhere. He’d made a point to be there for Charlie. Always cleaning up his messes. Always making sure he was safe.

Anger flared. Lucas had devoted his life to his family and his duties and doing the right thing, but his brother clearly did not see that. What did Lucas need to do more? Where was he falling short?

As it had days before, an image of a disappointed Marietta swam before his mind. Great. His sister’s ghost was upset with him too, and he didn’t have any clue what he’d even done!

The anger burned hot in him, and the only way he could seem to diminish it was by doing something physical. Something difficult.

So he pulled his hat low on his head and left the house.

The ride to the club cooled his feelings somewhat. Enough to remind him of the real need for coming today, the men they’d helped. Yes—he would just focus on helping them and forget everything else for at least an hour or so.

He slid into the back of the crowd, taking in the musky room, noting that even this early in the morning, there were a handful of patrons.

He regretted that he could not join them immediately because the door to Colin’s office was open a foot or two.

He made his way there, sticking his head in the door before pushing it open.

Colin glanced up. “Good, yer here.”

“Have you learned anything more?”

“It’s the company I told ye about. The Heatherdown Canal group. There’s nothing specific tying them to the attacks, but all of the men that have been hurt left their employ within the last month.”

Lucas paced the office. “That hardly makes sense. Why would a canal company worry so much about losing a few employees?”

Colin shrugged. “I dinnae, but we’ve got to do something about it.”

Lucas nodded. “I’ll find out who heads the group. Ask some of my own questions.”

“Good.”

“How is Patrick?”

A grimace crossed Colin’s face. “Better, but it will be months before he can work again.”

Lucas nodded. “Can we move him? To my father’s estate maybe? We’ve enough tenant farmers; I am sure we can find a cottage for him free of charge until he can work.”

Colin frowned in thought. “I’ll see what we can do.”

Would that he could do more. He nearly growled at the fact that he could not control everything going on. Coupled with his residual emotions from earlier, his agitation was worse than usual.

An atypically loud surge of noise came from the main room of the club.

Colin leaned to the side, looking around Lucas, who also turned.

Shouts reached them, and they both ran for the door.

Unsanctioned fights broke out on occasion, but they were usually de-escalated without much trouble. Still, quick action was necessary.

Lucas’s eyes adjusted to the darker lighting of the big room.

If a dispute had been had, things already seemed to have been de-escalated.

One of the fights had collapsed into a clump of individuals.

Lucas and Colin made for the grouping, pushing to the middle.

A man had been knocked down, and his head was bleeding profusely.

Colin reached the group first, dropping to a squat beside the hurt man, inspecting his head.

“What happened?” Lucas asked one of the men.

The man shrugged. “Dunno. Fell down, hit his head funny, and now—”

A sharp intake of breath proceeded Colin’s words. “Luc,” he said, panic edging his tone. Lucas dropped to his side.

“What is—” He’d just caught a look at the man who’d been downed.

“Charlie,” he breathed. His brother’s eyelids moved, lifting briefly to meet his eyes.

He said nothing before they drooped closed again.

Lucas pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it to the side of Charlie’s head.

It was like using a tablecloth to dry a pond. The wound was bleeding heavily.

Panic surged through Lucas. “Help me get him to my carriage,” he demanded of Colin. His friend nodded succinctly, immediately going for Charlie’s legs.

“Make some room, lads,” Colin called, and the crowd pushed back.

Lucas hefted Charlie by the shoulders, careful not to jostle him. The now-bloodied handkerchief fell to the floor, and Lucas ignored it.

Together they got Charlie out the door, knocking into the shoulders of several men who were making their entrance at the same time.

Lucas grunted, shifting Charlie in his arms so as to avoid bumping into the men now retreating out the door.

Jack jumped from the carriage to help them get him in then climbed in after him.

Lucas barked orders to the footman to have a surgeon brought to the house.

“Are you the proprietor of this club?” someone asked Colin.

Not waiting to hear Colin’s response, Lucas pulled the door closed and pounded on the ceiling. The carriage jerked into motion.

***

The sun was high in the sky by the time the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the Cheltenham home.

Charlie had opened his eyes once or twice during the drive but had quickly fallen back to unconsciousness each time.

The blood from his head wound had not ceased, and Lucas had pulled off his cravat to staunch the flow.

Head wounds bled a lot. Lucas knew this. But the sight of the blood staining his hands was making his vision swim, not because he was queasy, but because this was his brother . His brother, who had asked Lucas to stay home with him. His brother, who had been hurt at his club.

What had Charlie been doing at the club? Dash it all, how had this happened?

Lucas adjusted the cravat to continue to staunch the flow as the carriage slowed.

Lucas jumped out first, Jack silently joining him in lifting Charlie out and into the house. The door opened before they reached it, the butler having been watching from the window, and Lucas immediately barked orders for him to call the housekeeper and his parents.

“Lucas, what is going on?” Mother suddenly appeared in the doorway to the drawing room. Her eyes fell to Charlie, suspended between Lucas and Jack. “Good gracious, what happened?”

“He thought to play pugilist,” Lucas said, fear making his words harsh.

This was his own fault. Had Charlie followed him to the club?

Regardless, Lucas should have been more aware of his brother’s movements.

He should have anticipated something like this.

He should have been able to keep his one sibling safe.

“Bring him here,” Mother said. “Or, no... Have you called for a surgeon?”

“Yes. If the footman is fast enough, he should be here any minute. I’ve sent Drake for Mrs. Humphries; she should be here soon. We need to lie him down. Now.” He jerked his head to the drawing room doors.

Mother’s skin was pale and her eyes wide with fear as she scurried out of the way, pressing herself to the side so that the men could carry Charlie through. The front door opened and closed—if heaven was at all on their side, that would be the surgeon now.

Lucas and Jack laid Charlie on the rug, then Lucas jumped back to his feet. The footman was in the doorway, hesitancy in his expression.

“Well?” Lucas demanded of the man.

“The surgeon was not—he was not at home, my lord. His servant went for him but couldn’t say when he’d be back.”

Lucas’s hands lifted to run hands through his hair. His brother needed help now, not whenever a surgeon could be located. How much time would it take to track down another? None were in this part of town. He could dispatch several servants—someone would be bound to find someone.