Page 23 of Vanquished by a Viscount (Tales from the Brotherhood #3)
Eleven
C harlie lay awake half the night contemplating the problem before him.
The problem of his awakened feelings for Grayson, that is.
He should have been racking his brain for ways to calm Barbara’s fraught nerves.
He should have been plotting ways to bring his sister and her husband back together so that the two of them could resume what Charlie was certain was a perfect love match of a marriage.
Barbara had talked a great deal the night before when he’d accompanied her to the gamekeeper’s cottage, but she had said very little.
She had frustrated every attempt of his to delve into the heart of the matter.
Charlie sighed with impatience and rolled over in bed, pulling the covers up around his chin as he remembered the futility of asking his sister to explain why she was so miserable.
She gave the excuse of the house party and the rain, but Charlie knew Barbara as well as he knew himself, perhaps better, because at the moment, he did not understand most of his own actions or feelings, and he knew she was holding something back.
He intended to continue to contemplate the puzzle of Barbara and Robert, but tugging at his bedcovers had renewed the scent of Gray all around him. That familiar musk had his blood racing and his cock twitching and begging him to seek out his lover again.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scolded himself sleepily, burrowing deeper under his covers.
It was ridiculous. The entire bloody thing was ridiculous.
He’d put Grayson aside all those years ago because he did not want to ruin his reputation, and through that, destroy Barbara’s hopes of a good marriage and a place in society.
Barbara had her excellent marriage now, though, and her place in society would likely sort itself out because of her title as countess.
Why should he not renew his affair with Gray?
Because Gray hated him, he answered himself just as sleep took him. And why should he not? Charlie was well aware he had been in the wrong when their attachment ended.
The morning brought thick clouds and a pervasive sense of dampness, though the rain seemed to have exhausted itself.
Charlie woke, washed, and dressed early, hoping to visit Barbara and reason with her before most of her guests awoke.
He wandered downstairs, and almost immediately realized something was amiss within him.
As he left his bedchamber, he paused and stared at the door across from his.
Was Gray awake yet? Had he spent a restless night thinking about the two of them and ways they might repair the damage that had been done between them?
Had one spectacular tupping been enough to change Gray’s thoughts about him to something more forgiving of the past?
Charlie shook his head and forced himself to continue down the hall rather than knocking on Gray’s door, and perhaps sliding into the man’s bed to help him greet the day.
The grass and garden path on the way to the gamekeeper’s cottage was wet and heavy as Charlie trudged across in the early-morning light.
The grounds of Hawthorne House seemed as out of sorts as most of its inhabitants, which did not bode well for the day.
Charlie knocked on the cottage door, half expecting Barbara to either answer it with a wan face and red eyes from weeping all night or to shout at him to go away and never darken her doorstep again.
He was shocked when Barbara threw open the door and greeted him with a cheery smile and a vivacious embrace.
“Brother, I am so delighted to see you this fine morning,” she said, letting go of Charlie and pulling him into the house. “You are looking quite well.”
It was a bald-faced lie, but Charlie was too stunned by Barbara’s apparent joy to contradict her. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.
“Like an angel,” Barbara said with a happy sigh. “It was such bliss to inhabit a bed by myself again, without stray limbs flailing and waking me and without the danger of being drawn into vigorous activity when I would rather sleep.”
Charlie nearly stumbled over nothing as he followed Barbara toward the cottage’s small table.
His face and neck heated, and he scrambled for some way to avoid that particular topic.
“I, er, that is, um, I see that someone has been with tea and toast,” he said, nodding to the refreshment resting on a tray on the table.
“Yes,” Barbara said, still ostensibly happy as she gestured for Charlie to sit at the table with her. “Ivy very kindly brought me my morning tea just a few moments before you arrived. Would you like some?”
Before Charlie could answer, Barbara poured him a cup, added cream and sugar, and set it in front of him. The gesture reminded him very much of when Barbara had been a child engaging in make-believe as she served tea to her dolls.
“Barbara,” Charlie said in a more serious tone, reaching for his sister’s hand across the table after his first swallowing of tea. “We must discuss the rift between you and Robert and discover a way to heal it.”
“I’ve no wish to discuss anything of the sort,” Barbara said, her expression hardening and her chin going up.
“Yes, my dear, but you know as well as I that this sort of feud is not helpful to anyone,” Charlie went on, no real notion of how he could smooth things over coming to him. “You love Robert and Robert loves you.”
“Ha!” Barbara pulled her hand away from his. “I do not love a man who has no consideration for my feelings, nor for the difficulty of….” Her words trailed off, and a sad look took the place of her anger.
A moment later, she shook her head, sat a bit straighter, and smiled, taking Charlie’s hand again. “Tell me about you and Grayson,” she said, eyes suddenly bright with mischief. “The two of you seemed decidedly familiar last night. Can I hope for a reconciliation between the two of you?”
Charlie heated even more and cleared his throat. “Grayson and I have been speaking more than I had anticipated we would, yes,” he said.
He had no intention of discussing what he and Gray had actually been doing, but Barbara seemed woefully unready to let the topic drop. “Nothing would make me happier than to hear that the two of you have let bygones be bygones and that you intend to throw your lot in together.”
Charlie frowned and pursed his lips. “You know that such things are impossible.”
“I do not believe they are,” Barbara said, her eyes going wide as she sat a bit straighter. “I am quite certain that the two of you have a love between you that not even time or disagreement can dampen.”
“As I believe that you and Robert have the same kind of love,” Charlie said, jumping on the chance to swing the conversation around to the actual couple once more.
Barbara’s expression flattened once more. “That was not love, that was youthful infatuation that I already deeply regret.”
Charlie sighed, sitting back in his chair. He took a long drink of tea to calm his frustration.
He should not have given Barbara the opening to renew her wheedling line of questions.
“Have you and Grayson reconciled?” she asked. “Only, it looked as though the two of you had spent some sort of intimate time together shortly before I entered the hallway.”
Charlie tried not to choke on his tea. “You should not know anything about it,” he said hoarsely, putting his cup down.
“Oh, but I do,” Barbara said, though she seemed less excited now than moments before. “I am a married woman, after all, and while I have no knowledge of the particulars, I believe relations of all sorts are possible between all people.”
“And that is the end of that discussion,” Charlie said, pressing his hands into the table like he would muscle himself to stand. He stared directly at Barbara and said, “Are you coming back to the house?”
“No,” Barbara answered quickly, not meeting his gaze.
“You have a house filled with guests, all of whom will question your absence if you do not,” he reminded her.
Barbara peeked carefully up at him. “Perhaps I will return,” she said judiciously. “But only for the purpose of entertaining my guests.”
“Good,” Charlie said, standing. It was not the best answer he could have had from her, but it was a start. He offered his hand to her. “Come along, then.”
“In a while,” she said, stubbornly keeping to her seat. “I have not finished my tea and toast.”
“I’ve no doubt an entire, lavish breakfast is waiting for you at the house,” Charlie said.
“In time, brother,” she said a bit more peevishly. “Now, sit down and tell me all about how you are once again madly in love with Grayson and how the two of you will venture off into the world together, having daring adventures and falling more in love with each other with each passing year.”
Charlie sighed and resumed his seat. He had no intention of spinning tales of things that could never be for his sister’s amusement, but he had to admit that he would rather spend more time with her than rush back into the house, where he might encounter Gray and be forced to reckon with his unsettled emotions surrounding the man.
They stayed at the cottage long enough to finish the tea and toast. Once that was done, seeing as Barbara was already dressed and presentable, likely thanks to Ivy’s help, Charlie escorted her back to the house.
The rest of the house party had only just begun to come down for breakfast. It was clear at a glance that the weather was still taking its toll.
All around the breakfast table were drawn, sallow faces and very few smiles.
Miss Martin even broke into an unbecoming yawn before recognizing her gesture and raising a hand to her mouth, cheeks blazing.
The mood of the room changed entirely, and not for the better, when Robert and Gray entered. Charlie raised one eyebrow subtly at Gray as if to ask where things stood. Gray did not need to answer him, however.
“Good morning, my dear,” Robert said quietly, moving straight to Barbara’s chair and bending as if he would kiss her cheek.