Page 35 of Not his Marchioness (Daughters of the Ton #2)

Charlotte shivered beside him, and he turned to her. They had been outside for a good twenty minutes, watching the snow fall. It had been beautiful, but he had to admit the cold was getting to him, too.

“I could stand to have another glass of Negus,” he said.

“Yes,” Evelyn concurred. “I am so cold. My fingers are growing numb.”

“Why did you not say anything?” Nathaniel asked.

“Because it is lovely out here. And peaceful. As much as I enjoy a pleasant ball, it can be tiring.”

“I have a mind to get another glass and then sneak away to explore the Woodhavens’ library,” Charlotte admitted.

“What a good idea. Will you join us, Rhys?” Evelyn asked with a wink.

“Goodness, no. You shall have to embark on that adventure on your own.”

Charlotte looked at Nathaniel, who had raised his eyebrows. “Rhys does not enjoy books very much,” she explained. “We are teasing him.”

“And here I was, thinking the two of you made a perfect match.” Nathaniel laughed. “Well, why don’t you ladies go explore the library, and Rhys and I can perhaps find a vacant card table. Perhaps chess?”

Rhys smiled. He hadn’t played chess since his father died. The thought of it was both nostalgic and daunting. Still, he didn’t want to disappoint his new brother-in-law.

He nodded. “If you can find us a seat, I will play with you.”

“I won’t have to look for very long. I happen to know that Lord Woodhaven keeps a chess set in his parlor. Let us go.”

They escorted the ladies inside and then parted ways.

As he let go of Charlotte’s arm, Rhys instantly mourned the loss of her touch. She smiled at him with a tenderness he had rarely seen, and then she and her sister disappeared.

He followed Nathaniel up the stairs to the first-floor landing, where they encountered Lord Woodhaven.

“Woodhaven,” Nathaniel said, “Ravenscar and I would like to use your chess set.”

“By all means.” Woodhaven nodded. “But you’d better watch him, Ravenscar. He cheats.”

“I dare say it is most unlikely that anybody cheats at chess. I am simply more experienced, and I play it better,” Nathaniel declared.

Woodhaven chuckled and turned back to his conversation.

Nathaniel certainly knew how to handle these men. He had spoken to Woodhaven in the exact same tone Rhys had used when he convinced Woodhaven to help with the school.

Perhaps it was the rakes in them that made it so.

They slipped into the parlor, where fire roared in the grate, filling the air with the scent of cedar.

Nathaniel indicated the chess set near the window. Outside, the back alley of London was visible, still covered in snow.

“So Evelyn told me that you helped Charlotte with the school,” he said as he made his first move.

“I did. We had agreed to help each other achieve what we wished out of this marriage.”

“Before abandoning it,” Nathaniel added, without raising his eyes.

Rhys tensed. “It was a mutual decision. Nobody is being taken advantage of.”

Nathaniel looked up at him. “Of course. I was not implying anything of the sort. I see your reputation is fully restored. The Duke of Windsor speaks highly of you—not to me directly, for I have just returned from Portugal, but I have heard things.”

“I am glad to hear it. I thought the venture was foolish, to begin with. Attempting to make gentlemen change their behavior when most of these lords do whatever they please.”

Nathaniel chuckled. “I must agree with you. But you know how it is. Some of the Puritans have a lot of influence, and they like to wield it. Windsor is one of them. Although I know he has no stand behind closed doors.”

“I figured as much,” Rhys said. “But as you said, thanks to Charlotte, I have managed to fix whatever damage there was to my reputation.”

He made his move and waited for Nathaniel to do the same.

“Interesting,” Nathaniel commented. “I should have asked—are you experienced in chess?”

“My father taught me,” Rhys replied. “One of the few things we enjoyed doing together. Aside from riding in the snow, playing chess was one of the few things my father and I were able to do together without quarreling.”

“As did mine,” Nathaniel said. “Well, my stepfather. My real father died when I was very young. But I was fortunate to have a stepfather.”

“Do you ever resent it? Not having a real father. Having lost your stepfather and finding yourself in a position that was never meant to be yours?”

“I used to, all the time,” Nathaniel admitted.

“Unlike you, I wasn’t even a second son.

My uncle was a duke. When my father died, I was the heir for a while.

But then my uncle got married and had a son of his own, so I felt quite safe from having to take on the peerage.

People often look at me as though I were to be envied, for who wouldn’t want a dukedom? I certainly didn’t.”

“People look at me the same. I was never meant to be a marquess. I was the second son. I was trained, of course, just in case, for that is what we were—spares, in case something happened to the heir.”

Nathaniel cleared his throat. “I no longer resent it. I have learned the advantages it gives me. I can improve people’s lives. I have made the lives of my tenant farmers better already. And your reputation—”

Rhys chuckled. “That of an insufferable rake?”

“No, but that of a gentleman who cares. My local man made inquiries on my behalf when I was in Portugal. I heard that you care deeply for people who find themselves in less desirable circumstances. My man informed me that your reputation is stellar even at the houses of ill repute in St. Giles.”

“Yes. They are fond of me because I see the women as actual persons, not merely playthings.”

Nathaniel had been painted by Charlotte and others of their acquaintance as the sort of fellow who could accomplish anything. Rhys hadn’t thought that if the man were here, Charlotte never would’ve been in the position she was in.

After meeting him and talking to him, he could see that Nathaniel might not have been born to the dukedom, but he was certainly suited for it. Moreover, seeing him so devoted to his wife and so committed to accomplishing things within Society was admirable.

Rhys knew from Charlotte that Nathaniel had worked diligently with his friends and some of their fellow lords to introduce some reforms, like the one to assist the climbing boys of London.

A wretched lot, condemned to cleaning fireplaces that no adult could fit into.

They had made some progress, from what he had heard, and Nathaniel seemed truly dedicated.

“It is good to have compassion,” Nathaniel said.

“Do not let anybody shame you for it. In fact, if it were not such a delicate topic, I would have suggested reforms to improve the state of the rookeries. I know many wealthy men enjoy their time in houses of ill repute and gambling halls, but I must say, I doubt those women engage in such work for the joy of it.”

Shame washed over Rhys because he had frequented such establishments for years for his own amusement.

Yes, it was true, he always made sure to treat every woman he dallied with as a decent human being. Just as he had made sure that he had never knowingly ruined any young lady seeking his company, even if she did not work in such establishments.

And yet he had never sought to assist any of them. Even when they told him their stories, which were usually sad.

“It is safer to try to help the climbing boys. More socially acceptable,” he said. “And of course, to establish a school.”

“Yes. But we forget that many of the children who are in need of such schools reside in areas like St. Giles. I think back to my youth, and I must say—I don’t know about your reputation as a rake, but I believe I could rival you.

When I first arrived in London, I went to one of the clubs that employed lightskirts in their back rooms. But nothing happened.

By that time, I was enthralled by Evelyn, though we were at each other’s throats constantly.

But the idea of another woman when my heart was already hers? Impossible.”

Rhys scoffed.

“That scoff tells me that either you have experienced the same thing or you think me a fool.” Nathaniel smirked.

The challenge hung in the air.

Rhys shrugged. “This marriage is an arrangement for both of us, but I cannot deny that I value Charlotte’s opinion. I do not wish to lose it.”

“Which is why you’re helping her with the school.”

“Yes,” he affirmed. “But you are right. It is all well and good to build a school, but there are other matters. There is a young barmaid who frequents a gambling hall in St. Giles. I have not seen her for a month, not since I met Charlotte, but I would spend the night with her on occasion. Lizzie was her name. Sad story. She was young. I often wondered how she found herself in such a position. Her and others like her.”

Nathaniel wetted his lips. “I wonder if some of these people—not just them, but also those who cannot even afford the rundown homes in Whitechapel, and henceforth sleep on the streets—couldn’t have benefited from a school.

Or any sort of attention. Yet nobles look at the rookeries, the poor areas of London, as places to wrinkle their noses at.

Places to venture into when they want the thrill of excitement and the forbidden.

Nothing more. They do not see them as people. Although I hear you.”

Rhys shrugged again. “I made it a point not to care. After my family died, I decided that it would be best for me not to care, not to have empathy.”

Nathaniel chuckled. “Yes. The wretched beast, empathy. I battled it in my youth, too. But it always finds a way back into my heart, and I cannot help myself, especially not with Evelyn as my conscience.”

“Sometimes I feel as though Charlotte wishes to be my conscience.”

“We need that on occasion,” Nathaniel murmured, his eyes back on the chessboard.

He made a move and looked back up. “I have not spent much time with you, but it seems your feelings for my sister-in-law run much deeper than you first wanted to admit. I would not want to see her hurt, and I would not want her to be left wondering. So if there is something, perhaps you ought to talk to her.”

Rhys sat back. It had been six weeks since he got married. Sometimes, it felt like six months.

How their relationship had changed. They had gone through periods of arguing, quarreling, enjoying one another’s company, and had gone through moments of passion and then coldness. And his fear of being hurt had always stopped him.

But what if he wasn’t so different from Nathaniel? What if there could be a future for him, too, with Charlotte?

Nathaniel eyed him narrowly. “Are you afraid to acknowledge what is right for you?”

“I suppose I always feared that I might lose another person I cared for and that it might utterly wreck me,” Rhys allowed.

He was surprised that he could confide in Nathaniel in a way he hadn’t been able to confide in anybody else—not even Gideon.

“I always thought I might not be enough. I grew up a commoner,” Nathaniel said.

But you have to accept who you are now. Your old life is gone.

Yes, it was dreadful to lose your family, as it was dreadful to lose my father and the life that I had thought I would have.

But you can embrace the life you have now.

If you live in fury eternally, you’ll rob yourself of the chance of happiness. ”

Rhys nodded slowly, then made his next move.

Nathaniel smirked. “That was a mistake.” He knocked off his bishop. “I think I may have given you too much to think, and you can no longer focus on the game.”

“No. I assure you, I am quite certain I can do both—contemplate my future and beat you at chess.”

“Well then,” Nathaniel said, rubbing his hands, “let’s see.”

As he focused on the game, Rhys felt something shift inside him. Something opened, like a string tied too tight and finally released with the flick of a knife.

Certainty flooded him. He now knew what he wanted. He had always known. And he wasn’t going to let his fears hold him back anymore.