Page 39 of Vanquished by a Viscount (Tales from the Brotherhood #3)

Nineteen

W ar raged within Charlie as he walked away from the sight of Bradford with his hand on Gray’s face.

Every bit of good sense he had screamed at him that he should not jump to conclusions and immediately assume the worst between the two men.

He’d been in Gray’s bed the night before, not Bradford.

There were a thousand explanations for the contact between the two men.

But the heart was difficult to convince to see reason when it was already tender and exhausted. What would stop Grayson from having whatever affair he wanted if he was departing for Australia before the end of the month? Bradford very much seemed like a better man than him at any rate.

The arguments raged in Charlie’s head as he stomped toward his bedroom.

He wasn’t even certain he believed any of the arguments various parts of him were making, he was simply exhausted.

He could not bear to remain at Hawthorne House for a moment longer if doing so would only grow the attachment between him and Grayson. It was time to leave.

Just before reaching his bedroom door, he remembered that Olivier had gone downstairs with one of his jackets that needed repairing. Instead of entering his room, he continued down the hall, heading toward the servants’ staircase that would take him belowstairs.

Except instead of heading down in search of his valet, he marched right past the stairs to the doorway of Barbara and Robert’s bedroom, knocking quickly. He did not need his valet to pack his things so that he could flee back to Downham Manor. He needed his sister.

“Come in?” Barbara’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Charlie let himself in, finding Barbara sitting up in bed with a tray containing breakfast sitting on the coverlet beside her. Her confused expression broke into a broad smile at the sight of him.

“Charlie, whatever are you doing here?” she greeted him with more happiness and enthusiasm than Charlie had seen from her in a week. “Why did you bother knocking?”

“I can hardly walk right into my married sister’s bedroom without announcing myself,” Charlie said, closing the door behind him and going to sit on the bed with Barbara.

“I suppose so,” Barbara said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She used that hand to reach for Charlie’s. “But do tell me, why are you here? Should you not be downstairs, having breakfast with my other guests?”

“Should you not be doing the same?” Charlie turned the question back on her. It was a coward’s move, but he needed to gather his wits about him a bit more before launching into the true reason he’d sought out his sister’s comfort.

“Robert insists that I rest and recover from my fright this morning,” Barbara said, her cheeks pinking suspiciously.

As Charlie most certainly did not want to know what would put such a coy grin on his sister’s face, he asked, “Were you very frightened?”

Barbara stared at him. “I was trapped inside a burning house,” she said. “I would most certainly have been killed if you, Grayson, and Robert had not rushed to save me.”

Charlie felt sheepish for asking the question. He did not want to think what would have happened if they had not reached the cottage in time either.

He took both of Barbara’s hands in his and did his best to smile at her. “I shall thank God every day that you are still here with us,” he said.

“As shall I,” Barbara said.

An awkward silence fell between them as Charlie continued to hold his sister’s small hands.

He stared at them, wondering if he should be ashamed for caring so much for a sister, one who belonged to someone else now at that.

It was not considered manly to cling to such sentimentality, but his poor heart already felt so bruised and battered that he could not help but cling to the one person who had always been there for him.

“He does not have to go to Australia, you know,” Barbara said in a soft voice.

Charlie snapped his eyes up from where he’d been staring at his and her hands. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked, his voice far too tight and thin.

Barbara laughed gently at him and squeezed his hands. “Grayson, you fool,” she said. “You love him and you are sad because I accidentally revealed he’s booked passage to Australia.”

“I am nothing of the sort,” Charlie lied snappishly.

Barbara smirked at him. “Do you know your problem, my dear brother?”

“That I have a teasing, meddling sister?” Charlie suggested.

“No,” Barbara said. “Your greatest problem is that you show your emotions as if they were a new bauble you might pin to your neckcloth.”

“I would not have imagined you would find that to be a problem,” Charlie said, arching one eyebrow.

“I do not,” Barbara said with a nod. “It is not a problem. However, the way that you constantly attempt to hide from that fact of your nature is.”

Charlie sagged a bit, feeling as though his little sister had just scolded him, and that he deserved it.

“Do not wilt like an overwatered flower at the fact,” she went on with her scolding. “I happen to find a man who knows himself and his emotions to be excessively attractive.”

Charlie stared at her again. “I take it Robert is one of these men who knows his own emotions?”

“He is,” Barbara said, drawing her hands away from his and picking at the coverlet over her legs.

“I believe I can see now that both Robert’s effusive emotions and my own will clash from time to time.

” She grinned and her cheeks went bright pink again as she added, “But our apologies will be endlessly enjoyable.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “I do not wish to know.”

Barbara looked sheepish for only a moment before switching course and saying, “You know your emotions as well, you simply do not want to acknowledge them at present.”

“What I do not want to acknowledge is how I seem to have been played for a fool by everyone around me,” Charlie blurted before he could think better of it.

“Charlie,” Barbara huffed, crossing her arms. “No one is playing you for a fool but yourself.”

He did not like that assessment at all and made a face as if to tell her as much.

Barbara relented with a soft exhale and leaned back against the copious number of pillows behind her. “Why are you really upset with Grayson?”

“I am not going to share with my sister why I am upset by my lover’s?—”

Charlie stopped himself, pressing his lips shut. He’d already said far too much by admitting he and Gray were lovers in the first place.

“Fine,” Barbara said. “Then I will tell you why. You are afraid of Grayson because what you want more than anything in the entire world is to come live here with him, and with me and Robert and the children I am determined we will have someday, for the rest of your life.”

Charlie laughed unexpectedly. “That sounds more like what you want than what I do,” he said.

“It is what I want,” Barbara admitted with a happy smile. “And I want Robert’s brothers and sisters to return from their travels or from university so that you might find yourself surrounded by a large and loving family.”

Charlie’s heart lurched at the beautiful possibility.

Just as quickly, it shivered at the idea of attaching himself to all those people, only to have them leave again, leave him bereft.

“I cannot spend all my time in Kent,” he said, avoiding the heart of the issue. “I am responsible for Downham Manor and those whose fortunes depend on the estate.”

Barbara hummed as if she were considering that. Then she sighed, her shoulders rising and falling quickly. “I suppose we shall all be forced to split our time between Kent and Norfolk. And London, of course. I do not wish to miss the delights of the Season entirely.”

Charlie laughed and shook his head. Barbara was so dear to him. He did not know what he would do if she wished to push him aside entirely in favor of Robert.

Which felt like an all-too similar emotion to worrying that Grayson would push him aside for Bradford, or any other man, or even for Australia.

But if one of the loves of his life had every intention of adapting in order to include him, perhaps, just perhaps, the other would be willing to do the same.

“You have a look in your eyes,” Barbara said, drawing Charlie’s attention to the fact that he’d been silent for too long.

When he met her gaze, she smiled, reached for his hand, and said, “Go find him. Do as Robert and I have done and talk through this rut in your road.” She squeezed his hand, then leaned back against her pillows with a luxurious sigh, then said, “And then you might also do what Robert and I did and?—”

“No!” Charlie said, standing abruptly and backing away from the bed. “I am very much in favor of sibling closeness, but there are lines, Barbara. There are most definite lines.”

Barbara burst into laughter, nearly upsetting the teacup that sat on the tray beside her. Charlie gave her one last warning, cheeky smirk before striding toward the door.

As soon as he was on the other side, his courage faltered.

He needed to share his concerns with more than just Barbara.

He’d begun the process with Gray by sharing his true reasons for the break between them, but discussing the past was one thing.

Exposing his present weaknesses was another.

It needed to be done if the two of them ever hoped to find happiness together, particularly if Australia stood between them.

He marched back down the corridor and descended to the front hall, the last place he had seen Gray.

His sweetheart was not where he’d been before, however.

Charlie was uncertain whether he was relieved by the momentary respite searching for Gray would provide him or whether he wanted to get the whole, terrifying confession of his heart over with.

Of course, as he crossed through the front hall, intending to seek Grayson out in the conservatory, worries that Gray had gone off with Bradford for a morning interlude gripped him.

Bradford seemed like exactly the sort who would be up for anything at any time of the day.

Pettigrew’s disheveled state the night before seemed to be proof of that.

No sooner had Charlie called Pettigrew to mind when the man himself came dashing out of one of the morning parlors with a look of terror in his eyes.

“Hide me!” Pettigrew gasped, grabbing hold of Charlie’s sleeve. “You must hide me at once. You must tell everyone that the two of us have been in conversation these few hours, that I was never here to begin?—”

Lady Sandridge’s shout from the parlor threw Charlie even more off-balance. “Scandal! Infamy! My daughter has been irreparably compromised!”

“Oh, Lord,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes.

Lady Sandridge and Lady Eudora rushed out of the parlor a moment later.

The front of Lady Eudora’s gown was askew and her face was pinched in what even Charlie could see at a glance were false tears.

As soon as they made their appearance, Pettigrew leapt behind Charlie as if he could conceal himself there.

“Whatever seems to be the matter?” Charlie asked, uncertain whether he should be angry or burst into laughter.

“That man!” Lady Sandridge said, pointing behind Charlie with an imperious air. “He has compromised my poor daughter, and he must marry her at once.”

Charlie turned slightly, giving Pettigrew a scolding look. Not for compromising anyone, since he knew full well Pettigrew would never so much as look at a woman inappropriately, but for allowing himself to be caught in the trap anyone with eyes could see had been set for him.

“She claimed to be experiencing shortness of breath and pains in her chest,” Pettigrew said, reluctantly standing straighter and tugging at the bottom of his jacket. “I took an oath as a physician not to ignore anyone with a medical complaint.”

“He took liberties with my person,” Lady Eudora said with breathless excitement, her eyes shining with triumph. “I must go and tell my friends at once. I am to be Mrs. Dr. Pettigrew!”

Before Charlie could say or do anything to stop the foolish young woman, she raced away at pace toward the conservatory, squealing with glee.

Charlie frowned at Lady Sandridge and said, “You will pay for this, madame.”

“Me?” Lady Sandridge pressed a hand to her chest with indignant shock. “Dr. Pettigrew is the one who cornered my sweet Eudora alone in a parlor and loosened the front of her gown. Only a husband has that right to a woman’s person, so a husband the man shall be.”

She turned up her nose and stormed off after her daughter.

“You know I did nothing of the sort,” Pettigrew sighed.

“I know,” Charlie told him, thumping his shoulder and steering the man so that they could both follow the miserable, conniving ladies. “But if you explain why you could never do such a thing you will land yourself in a hotter stew.”

“And if it becomes greater public knowledge that a lady was compromised at your sister’s house party, Lady Felcourt’s reputation could be the real damage.”

Any attempt to smile and see the situation as amusing that Charlie might have had withered. After everything he had done and sacrificed for Barbara and her standing in society, he would be damned if he had a silly cow of a girl and her meddling mama destroy her standing.