A Dream of Desire (23 page)

She should have accepted Ridley, Talia thought as angry tears sprang to her eyes. At the very least, that would have shown James that she was no longer in love with him, that she could move on with her life as easily as he had.

“Out here alone, my lady?” a male voice inquired.

Talia swiped at her eyes, turning to see Lord Margate leaning against the doorjamb, his fair hair gleaming in the light. Talia’s dismay intensified. A decent man had begun to court her, no matter the instigation, and she had rebuffed him because he could never offer her the type of marriage for which she secretly longed.

Yet other men like Margate would forever look at her with that knowing gleam, making no attempt to hide the salacious nature of their thoughts. A respectable marriage might provide some protection from such speculation, but never one contrived by James Forester.

Talia sighed. She could not win. And she was growing weary of the battle.

“Not enjoying the ball, are you?” Margate pushed away from the doorjamb to approach her, his stride casual. “The crush, the noise, the smell, the heat…I can’t imagine why you’d want to escape all that.”

Talia smiled without humor. She edged a little closer to the door, but didn’t bother trying to escape his presence. Though Margate had always been a bit too arrogant for her comfort, he’d been the only person to express interest in supporting her testimony to the House committee.

“I confess I’d rather spend an evening at home myself,” he remarked.

Talia rather doubted the truth of that statement. Another waft of cold washed over her, and she shivered. Margate glanced at her, then shrugged out of his coat to put it around her shoulders. The smell of smoke and brandy wafted from the material, and Talia slipped quickly away from his reach.

“Just trying to be polite,” Margate muttered, tossing the coat onto the terrace railing.

“I need to find my aunt, as I’m certain she’d like to leave soon.” Talia turned to go back inside, wincing as Margate’s hand closed around her bare arm.

“You’d prefer the crush to my company?” he asked.

“Yes, I would.” She tried to pull her arm from his grip. “Please let go of me.”

A hint of alarm spiraled through her when his fingers tightened.

“What is it you seek, Lady Talia?” he asked. “Surely you haven’t attended so many soirees this season merely at the behest of your elderly aunt or because of your foolish school. You’ve gained quite a reputation as a recluse, haven’t you? What…or rather,
who
…has brought you out into the world again?”

“Certainly not the likes of you,” Talia muttered.

“It’s your allure of mystery that intrigues me,” Margate continued. He gave her arm a tug, which forced her a few steps toward him. “Other men as well. Everyone still speaks of the passion your mother appears to have possessed, which I’m certain fires your own blood in—”

“Let go of her.” James’s voice cut through the night air.

Relief flooded Talia when he stepped toward them, his expression dark. He reached out to unlock Margate’s grip from Talia. “Go away before I kill you. And never touch her again. Don’t even
look
at her.”

Rather than react in defense, Margate smiled with amusement. “You’re going to defend her, Castle? Word has it that she’s visited your residence without the benefit of a chaperone…or perhaps it’s
to
your benefit that she—”

Margate grunted as James’s fist connected with his jaw, his head snapping back. Talia’s heart lurched. She grabbed James by the arm to stop him from throwing another punch, his muscles rock hard beneath her grip.

“Well.” Margate straightened, swiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. “To her honor and all that sort of rot, eh, Castle?”

“Get out,” James said through gritted teeth, his muscles bunching beneath his coat as he pulled back for a second blow.

Margate gave Talia another smile before sauntering back into the ballroom. Talia tightened her hand on James’s arm. Her pulse raced with a combination of fear and exhilaration that he had defended her, as he always had before. James turned, his eyes simmering with anger.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Talia nodded, forcing her fingers to unclench from his arm.

“Margate can’t do anything to hurt me, James.” She looked up into his dark eyes, wrestling with the wisdom of telling him the truth. Finally she did, because she had never given him anything less than the truth.

“You’re the only man who can hurt me,” she said, the admission making her throat ache.

James took a step back, as if she’d struck him. “What?”

Talia took a breath and sought for the words to explain. “After my mother left, I hid for a long time, not wanting to contend with men like Margate. Not wanting to endure sly glances and comments. I thought…I actually believed that such things would hurt me. And I’m just now realizing that they don’t. They can’t.”

James frowned. “I will not have such—”

“James. They can’t hurt me because men like him don’t
matter
. I care nothing for Lord Margate or what he thinks of me. And his rudeness certainly can’t compare to the storm my family has already weathered.”

The ache in her throat spread through her chest and into her heart. “But you…”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

“And yet you have.” The words broke apart in her mouth, bitter and cold.

James stared at her, his breath escaping on a rush. “Don’t…don’t tell me that.”

“Why did you want Lord Ridley to court me?” Only as she asked the question did Talia realize there was another layer to her hurt. She’d thought that Ridley was actually pursuing
her
. Not because James had suggested it, but because he’d wanted to.

“Christ, Talia.” James shook his head. “I
didn’t
want him to. I never wanted him to. I tried to pretend I wanted him to because your aunt told me he’d be a good match for you.”

“My aunt?”

“She came to visit me one afternoon and delivered quite a convincing speech as to all the reasons Ridley would make an excellent husband for you. Then she asked my help in arranging a meeting.”

Talia’s heart sank. She felt as if she were standing on a precipice with no idea how far she might fall if she took one step forward. “And you…you agreed?”

“Of course I agreed,” James snapped. “What was the alternative? Tell your aunt that I wanted to strangle any man who even looked at you with admiration? Persuade her that no, actually, I am a better prospect than Ridley even though I’m so clearly
not
? What should I have done?”

“Oh, James.” An ache expanded through Talia from the inside out. “You should have come to me.”

James cursed, his shoulders slumping. Talia struggled to absorb the pain as she gazed at him—the gleam of light on his dark brown hair, the masculine planes of his features. His cravat had loosened, exposing the strong column of his throat that she knew felt warm against her lips and tasted like sea salt.

A surge of longing filled her, even as she turned away from him. Her longing for him would never fully die, much as she wished it would. But she’d told him the truth, as she always did, when she’d said that he was no longer the man she once knew.
That
James would never have thought so little of her wishes.

“Talia…”

“No.”

“You must marry me. If word is out that you’ve come to my residence alone, and if Margate—”

“You had your chance, James.” Talia stopped, resting her hand on the side of the door to steady herself.

You must marry me.
A year ago she’d desperately wished she could say the same words to him. Of course Talia and James
must
marry. It could simply be no other way because they belonged together.

Until now.

Talia looked over her shoulder at him. She hardened her heart against the guilt in his eyes. “James, what if I did consent? How would anything change? You’re still leaving in a fortnight.”

“I won’t go.”

“And then I’ll feel guilty for having forced you to stay.” Talia shook her head, realizing with sadness that the fates would forever conspire to keep her and James apart.

No. She and James would forever keep themselves apart.

She straightened her shoulders and returned to the ballroom. He didn’t follow her.

Talia went to find Aunt Sally and pleaded a headache as her reason to want to return home. She already knew her aunt’s motives for going to James about Lord Ridley. Despite Aunt Sally’s remarks about what constituted a blissful marriage, in the end she wanted Talia to find a husband as much as the rest of her family did.

“You were the one who told me what I should look for in a perfect marriage,” Talia told her aunt, unable to keep the hurt from her voice. “Did you think I’d find all those things with Lord Ridley?”

“Possibly.” Sally appeared entirely unrepentant. “Or that James would finally come to his senses about you.”

“Nothing will ever happen with me and James, Aunt Sally.”

For the first time, that statement quashed the flicker of hope that had never ceased burning in Talia’s heart. Once back home, she asked Soames to fetch her an empty box from the kitchen. He returned with a wooden crate, which she took up to her bedchamber. She opened the desk drawer that contained James’s letters and removed them all, dumping them unceremoniously into the crate.

Then, hands trembling and her eyes stinging with tears, she opened her curiosity cabinet and took out all the artifacts and trinkets he’d sent to her over the years. A decade’s worth of explorations around the world, all encompassed for Talia in polished stones, bright feathers, coins, seashells, figurines, shark’s teeth, bracelets. She put them all into the box with the letters, then hefted it into her arms.

She pushed the door open and stepped into the corridor just as Aunt Sally came puffing toward the stairs, her white hair peeking out from beneath her cap.

“Oh, I thought you’d gone to bed already, my dear.” Sally paused, her gaze going inquiringly to the box. “What on earth is that?”

“Just some old things I wanted to get rid of.”

“It looks terribly heavy. Wait here, and I’ll fetch Soames.”

“No, I can—”

“I was going down for a glass of milk, anyway.” Sally went toward the stairs, calling for Soames.

A few seconds later, the footman came to take the box from Talia.

“Put it out with the rubbish, please,” she said.

“Yes, milady.”

Talia fought the ache threatening to break open her chest as she watched him walk away with all her tangible memories of James contained in one old crate.

Soames’s voice mixed with Aunt Sally’s lilt as they headed down the stairs to the kitchen. Talia returned to her room and closed the door, swallowing hard against the tears. She’d cried enough for James Forester.

She rang for Lucy to help her out of her gown and into her night shift and dressing gown. She dismissed the maid with a word of thanks before climbing into bed. Despite the tangle of her emotions, she drifted into a welcome, dreamless sleep that restored some of her resolve. No matter what James did or didn’t do, Talia still had work to do and an obligation to Brick Street and its students. Nothing could stop her from that.

In the morning, Lucy came in with a basket of muffins and a cup of coffee. She placed the tray on the table, then went to open the wardrobe. Talia realized she’d forgotten to put James’s coat in the crate as well. After she’d dressed and Lucy left, Talia went to the wardrobe and took out the coat.

Suppressing the urge to run her hand over the soft wool, she tossed it onto the bed and sat at the table to eat breakfast. She’d taken one sip of coffee when there was a knock on the door.

“Talia?”

“Come in, Aunt Sally.”

“Talia, come quickly.” Her aunt bustled in, her eyes bright with excitement. She clapped her hands together. “We’ve a surprise visitor.”

“Who?” A sudden apprehension filled Talia.

Sally smiled. “Come downstairs and see.”

Talia pushed her chair back just as Aunt Sally hurried to ring for the maid. Sally paused when she saw the man’s coat lying on Talia’s bed.

“That’s…er, I borrowed it from James last night.” Embarrassment heated Talia’s face. “It was chilly and I…I’d forgotten my wrap.”

“Oh.” Sally’s confused—and somewhat intrigued—expression cleared. “James is so chivalrous, isn’t he? Do hurry up, Talia.”

“Who is here, Aunt Sally?”

“Your brother!”

“My…”

The words faded as Talia’s throat closed over. A thousand thoughts flew through her mind—explanations, reasons, rationales—even as she knew the ugly truth to her very bones.

James had done it. He’d told Alexander her secrets, betrayed her to keep his promise. And now Alexander was here.

N
icholas?”

Talia stopped on the stairs, shock flooding her at the sight of the disheveled, long-haired man standing in the foyer. He wore a ragged sailor’s coat, torn trousers, and boots that had tracked muddy footprints over the marble floor. For a moment, she could only stare at him, hardly daring to believe he was truly back.

He lifted his head to look up at her, and then a wide, gleaming smile broke through the darkness of the bristly beard covering his jaw.

“Hullo, brat.” His deep voice boomed through the foyer. “Aren’t you a sight?”

“Aren’t
I
a sight?” Talia hurried down the stairs, her heart racing with a combination of relief and excitement. “You look as if you’ve crawled from a swamp!”

Nicholas scrubbed a hand over his beard and chuckled. “Likely I have.”

Talia reached the bottom step and threw herself at her brother, laughing with delight as his arms closed around her and lifted her clear off the ground. Love filled her, washing away the despair she’d felt only a few moments ago.

“You smell dreadful,” she remarked, hugging him tight and not caring that his filthy coat was sullying her dress.

“Fresh off the boat, milady. Just landed at the East India Docks not an hour ago.”

“Why didn’t you send word that you were coming?”

“I didn’t know I was.” Nicholas set her back on her feet and held her at arm’s length to study her. “Intended to set a course for Greenland, but heard there’s a prospect of a northwesterly gale so rather than risk the steamer transport, the commander ordered us back to London.”

“How long will you stay?”

“Don’t quite know.” Nicholas shrugged out of his coat and tossed it to the waiting Soames, who barely managed to suppress a grimace as he caught it. “Commander might change his plans, so I’m to await orders.”

“Come in, come in.” Sally, who had followed Talia back downstairs, opened the morning room door to usher Nicholas inside. “Your father will be so disappointed he missed you.”

“The old bird is out and about again, eh? Good to know.”

“Shall I have a bath drawn, milady?” Soames asked dryly.

“Please.” Talia wrinkled her nose at Nicholas, even as happiness and love buoyed her spirits. “Send tea in as well, Soames.”

“And food,” Nicholas added.

Talia followed her brother into the morning room, suppressing the urge to pepper him with questions until he’d had a chance to settle back in.

“Do you know when you’ll receive your orders?” Sally asked.

“Should get word within a day or so as to what’s planned next.” Nicholas flopped down on the sofa and put his booted feet on the table, ignoring Sally’s glare of disapproval. “Was hoping to have enough time to visit Bastian, meet his new wife.” He scratched his bristly beard. “Has Alex returned?”

“He and Darius are both still in St. Petersburg,” Talia said.

Nicholas paused to look at her. “They’re all away?”

“They’ve been away for months now, and Papa left a few weeks ago.”

“Left you alone?”

“I’m not alone. Aunt Sally came to stay until Papa returns. Everything has been fine.”

Nicholas frowned at her. Talia frowned back.

“You left three years ago, Nicholas,” she reminded him. “Not terribly concerned about leaving me alone then, were you?”

A sudden tension coursed between them, diluting the happiness of their reunion. Talia turned her attention to the tea tray when the maid deposited it on the table. Nicholas swallowed the tea in a few gulps and studied the plate of scones and muffins.

“Where did you last visit, Nicholas?” Sally asked brightly.

“The Malay Peninsula, my lady,” he said, around a mouthful of scone. “Charted the course of several rivers.”

“Lord Castleford tried to secure an expedition there, but was unsuccessful,” Talia said.

“Castle, eh?” Nicholas bit into a currant muffin. “Good man. Bit of a stick-in-the-mud, but worthy commander, from what I hear.”

“You’ve not commanded an expedition yet?” Talia asked.

“Don’t see the point, really. Too much responsibility. By hiring myself out, I can go where I please when I please.”

And never stop anywhere
, Talia thought. At least James had a place to hang his hat—when he chose to use it, of course. Nicholas would always be welcome at any Hall residence, but he had no place to call his own.

“I’ll see about your bath and having a room prepared.” Talia stood and embraced her brother again.

“You look well, brat.” Affection softened the lines around his eyes. “I’m glad to see you.”

Talia patted his bristly cheek. “And I you. I’ll see if Papa’s barber is available as soon as possible. I’ve little doubt you have small creatures living in that tangled beard.”

She returned upstairs to see to the preparations for his stay, then let the servant Kinley take over to help get her brother into respectable shape again.

“Soames.” She hurried to the footman as he passed in the corridor. “Send word to Lord Castleford’s residence, please. Tell him that Mr. Hall has returned and he’s welcome to call this morning, if he’s available. If not, ask him to come for supper.”

She knew James and Nicholas would like to see each other again, and certainly the two would have plenty to discuss about their various adventures.

Her spirits lifted for the first time in weeks, Talia asked the cook to prepare more cakes and muffins she knew both James and her brother liked. She returned upstairs to ring for Lucy again, wanting to wear something brighter and prettier than the gray dress she had on.

James’s coat still lay on her bed. She hung it back in the wardrobe just as the maid appeared to help her change into a blue morning gown sprinkled with yellow flowers.

“Talia?” Aunt Sally emerged from the dining room as Talia descended the stairs again. “We’ve just got a note from James. He won’t be able to visit this morning.”

Disappointment speared through Talia. “Did he say why?”

Sally shook her head. “He didn’t say he’d pay a call later today, either, and declined the supper invitation. I’d have thought he’d be eager to see Nicholas again. It’s been years, hasn’t it?”

“Years,” Talia echoed, turning away from her aunt toward the morning room.

Her chest tightened. James had developed close friendships with all four of her brothers over the years, first with Alexander and then Nicholas, owing to their shared love of exploration. They’d spent many hours discussing shipping routes, maps of the colonies, weather conditions, expedition equipment, and provisions.

Any other time, especially with the two of them having just returned to London, James would have hurried over to see Nicholas and hear of his latest journey.

Which meant there could be only one reason for James to balk now.

Talia pressed her palms to her cheeks and closed her eyes. Images flashed behind her eyelids—James’s hands on her bare skin, her lips against his chest, their legs twining together. Heat filled her veins.

“Can’t decide if I feel like myself again or someone else entirely.”

Talia opened her eyes at the sound of her brother’s voice. She smiled. With his dark hair cut short again and his beard shaved to reveal the planes of his face and wide mouth, Nicholas looked like the handsome brother she remembered. His skin was darker, and new lines had formed around his mouth, but his eyes still held that mischievous twinkle that belonged only to him.

“I knew you were still somewhere underneath all that hair,” Talia remarked.

Nicholas frowned and plucked at the sleeve of his gray coat as if it were some foreign material. “Bit of an adjustment, I’m afraid.”

Talia approached and reached out to straighten the crooked knot of his cravat. “I hope you’ll stay for a while.”

Only as she said the words did she realize how much she meant them. She’d missed her brothers for a long time, but that ache had deepened since James returned. Her shaky relationship with him reminded Talia just how much everything had changed. Having at least one brother back at home might provide her with some much-needed stability, even if she didn’t yet know how much she should reveal about Brick Street.

She dusted a nonexistent speck of lint from Nicholas’s lapel and went to the fresh tea tray that the maid had left on the table.

“So tell me everything,” she said, pouring him a cup. “Where you went, what you saw. I’ve loved the packages of books you’ve sent.”

“I’ve got more for you too, somewhere in my trunk.” Nicholas settled into a chair, folding one long leg over the other. “Thought you could use them for your schools. Last I heard from Bastian that’s your primary charity these days.”

“Has been for over a year now. I find it very fulfilling.”

Nicholas accepted a cup of tea, studying her from beneath his dark brows. “Bastian also wrote that you’ve shown no intention of marrying.”

Talia sighed. “Lovely to know my brothers are discussing such things with one another rather than me.”

“I’m discussing it with you now, aren’t I?”

“Very well, let’s discuss,” Talia said tartly. “You’ve not shown any intention of marrying either.”

His grin flashed. “Touché, Lady Talia.”

“Have you seen Darius recently?”

Nicholas shook his head, his gaze skirting away from her. If Talia hadn’t been watching him closely, she might have missed the faint tightening of his jaw. Her heart sank at the thought that there might be tension between the twins. Different as they were, Nicholas and Darius had always had a strong bond.

“He’s doing well.” She smiled, anxious to divert his attention from any unpleasantness. “I saw him last fall in Russia before he returned to London for a short time. Something to do with a cipher machine.”

“He’s back in St. Petersburg now?” Nicholas asked.

“Yes, Alexander and Lydia live not far from his residence on the Fontanka.” She paused. “You ought to pay him a visit.”

Nicholas shrugged, shifting in the chair as if it were uncomfortable. He seemed bigger somehow, as if all that time spent on ships and trekking through unknown lands had expanded his position in the world. Hardly a wonder that he’d feel awkward sitting in the frilly morning room again.

He wouldn’t stay in London long, Talia thought with a pang of sadness. Like James, he’d want to return to the open seas as soon as he could.

“What will you do today?” she asked.

“Pay a visit to the club, I suppose. Call on a few old friends.” Nicholas rubbed his chin, then looked surprised by the fact that his beard was no longer there. “Castle is still at his Arlington Street place?”

“Yes, but he sent word that he couldn’t visit today,” Talia said. Irritation pricked at her suddenly. “I’ll see if he can come tomorrow, perhaps. I’ll have John ready the second carriage for you to use while you’re here.”

She stood and approached him. “Please don’t be in too much of a hurry to leave.”

A frown tugged at his mouth. “You all right, then, brat? Not been horrid for you, has it?”

Talia shook her head. Yes, it had been horrid, but there was no point in telling him that. She no longer wanted to dwell on the past.

“I’d just…I’d like having you here,” she said. “Perhaps I can go with you to visit Bastian and Clara.”

“I’ll send word and see if they’re available. Would be a good trip, eh?”

“Indeed. I’ll see you at lunch.”

Talia bent to kiss his forehead before she went to request the carriages be prepared. Pleased at the thought of having family around her after James left again, she went upstairs and collected her things.

She stopped at the printer’s for a stack of notebooks and pencils, then the Exeter Hall offices of the Ragged School Union. Sir Henry wasn’t in his office, so Talia left the supplies on his desk along with a note before returning to the carriage. She went to Mudie’s Library for some new books and stacked them on the opposite carriage seat to bring to Brick Street.

After paying a visit to the modiste to check on a recent order, Talia found herself directing the driver to James’s town house.

Anxiety clutched at her as she went up the steps and rang the bell. The maid, Polly, answered, a dishrag in her hand.

“His lordship is in the study,” she announced importantly before allowing Talia to pass her.

Talia glanced around the house as she walked to the study. She was pleased to see that everything still looked neat and tidy after her decorating overhaul last week.

“James?” She knocked once and pushed the door open.

He was standing behind his paper-strewn desk, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out the window at the back garden. At the sound of her voice, he turned with a frown. Talia’s heart stuttered. He looked tired, his eyes lined with dark circles and his hair a disheveled mess.

“I knew it.” She closed the door behind her and strode to the desk, irritation biting at her. “I knew you didn’t have any other plans, James. You wouldn’t come to see Nicholas because of all that has transpired between us.”

“Talia—”

“Did you think you wouldn’t be able to hide it?” Talia snapped, her hands shaking as she put them flat on his desk and leaned toward him. “That Nicholas would somehow know we’ve been intimate? Are you ashamed of what we did, even though
I
was the one who initiated it, the one who proved yet again that you cannot resist me? For the love of God, James, what kind of
coward
—”

“Talia!”

She stopped short at the harsh note in his voice. James muttered a curse, dragging his hands over his face and through his hair.

Behind Talia, someone coughed.

Oh, no.

She stared at James, her pulse thudding. He grimaced. Slowly, Talia turned to find herself looking at Sir Henry, Lady Byron, and…Nicholas.

Hot embarrassment swept up her throat and stung her cheeks. She couldn’t move.

“Lady Talia, I’ve…” James cleared his throat. “I had an appointment with Sir Henry and Lady Byron to discuss the patronage of the Brick Street school. Your brother just stopped by a half hour ago…unexpectedly.”

Talia swung her gaze to her brother. Nicholas just looked at her, his face expressionless. A torrent of memories barraged Talia of all the vile gossip that had followed their mother’s affair—whispers of her wanton behavior, her betrayal, her immorality. The scandal had driven Nicholas from London almost four years ago. Now he’d just learned that his sister…