The Clarendon Rose (11 page)

She was so full of a ripe sexuality he wanted to pluck and taste for himself.
 
Yet, for all that, his indiscretion had been prompted by a far deeper need.
 
For a few moments, holding her against him and tasting her lips, he had managed to forget those faces that had haunted him across the years.
 

Still, he had little idea what in God’s name had prompted his maudlin reminiscences of the bad old days.
 
Being back at the manor undoubtedly had something to do with it.
 
And then, of course, there was Miss Merriweather herself.
 
She had a soothing presence—and he had even been reflecting earlier on how easy it would be to confide in her.
 
But this—this went far beyond confidence, instead straying well into the region of weak sentimentality.

Yet, she was not even his to confide in.
 
Just as she was not his to embrace.
 
And since those mad moments of intimacy, she had avoided looking at him, undoubtedly repelled by a man who had so little honor as to make advances upon his own brother’s betrothed.
 
He had felt her response, but he discounted it—she was clearly an innocent, and she had unconsciously played into his desires.
 
It wasn’t her fault that she made him want to cast aside propriety, fraternal regard and even honor in favor of the silken heat of her body.

But of course, he would not—must not—do that.
 
For, despite his embittered words, Clarendon was still very much a believer in the notion of honor.
 
He had simply learned that there was no such thing as an absolute definition.
 
His teachers and military superiors would have him believe that it consisted of obeying orders without question.
 
For that kind of “honor”, he had been lauded a hero.
 
On his journey to the Caribbean, he had thrown that damn medal into the ocean and watched with cold satisfaction as it sank below the surface and disappeared into the murky depths.

Still, after years of bitter, intoxicated living without honor of any kind, he had pulled himself out of the mire and realized there was another version of it he still believed in.
 
Personal honor—the capacity of one man to take on his responsibilities and ensure that they were met to the best of his abilities.
 

And he hoped that if he pursued that kind of life, ensuring his family, his tenants and his staff were well cared for and properly employed, he might even find a redemption of sorts.
 
A way to atone for those other lives he had commanded into oblivion.

He glanced over at Miss Merriweather, tasting the familiar tang of self-recrimination as he acknowledged that for all his good intentions, he had made a profoundly ignominious start.

As they entered the Manor, an elegantly dressed, handsome young man emerged from the sitting room to greet them.

“Edmund!” Tina exclaimed as she started forward to greet him.

“Tina!
 
You’re looking well!”
 
Edmund returned her grin as they embraced affectionately.
 
“A little tired, though.”

“I’m so glad you’re back.
 
I missed you,” she said, pulling away to regard him with fond eyes.
 
He seemed well, though his own face was also marked with fatigue.
 
His gaze shifted to behind her and his grin widened once more.

“I see you’ve met my notorious brother,” he commented, raising his voice to include the duke.
 
Tina hoped Edmund didn’t notice her guilty flush as she turned to look at Clarendon, who wore a cool expression, his perfunctory smile never reaching his eyes.

“Indeed.
 
Your betrothed has graciously consented to help ease me into my new duties,” he said, his tone clipped and precise.

“She’s brilliant, isn’t she?
 
Father found her completely indispensable, I know.”
 
Then, Edmund grew serious.
 
“Would you excuse us a few moments, brother?
 
I have some matters I need to discuss with Tina while I’m here.”

“Of course.”
 
Clarendon gave them a stiff bow and turned to leave.

“I’d like to speak to you as well, Clare, once I’ve given Tina my news,” Edmund called.
 
Tina noted Edmund’s expression had grown troubled as he watched his elder brother.

“I shall be in the study,” the duke replied, not pausing in his progress.

Once he had gone, Edmund glanced at Tina, a puzzled smile quirking his mouth.
 
“He seems in a bit of a mood.
 
I hope he hasn’t been too awful with you.”

She shook her head as she allowed him to lead her to the drawing room.
 
“No, no.
 
He’s been fine.
 
He’s certainly been an attentive pupil.”

Edmund nodded.
 
“Even when I called on him in London, he was entrenched in sorting through stacks of Father’s papers.
 
I do believe he means to settle down at last.
 
Now he has only to find a wife who can provide him with an heir, and he’ll be all set.”

Tina swallowed, unprepared for the stab of jealousy that assailed her at Edmund’s casual comment.
 
She already resented the gently bred, undoubtedly lovely, creature who would someday fill that role for the duke.
 
She forced a smile.
 
“So what’s all this news about, Edmund?
 
I have some things to discuss with you as well.”

“Fair enough,” he said, as they sat down beside each other on a sofa that had been part of his mother’s redecorating zeal a year or so earlier.
 
“Why don’t you go first?”

Though Tina had been impatiently awaiting his return just so she could have this particular discussion, she now discovered that it wasn’t easy being faced with the immediate prospect of ending a betrothal.
 
And, with half of her mind once more occupied by thoughts of the duke—his future wife, her own ludicrous desire for his company and his attention, her increasingly pressing need to make arrangements that would get her as far away from him as possible—she had trouble formulating the words that would be needed to end the attachment.
 

Because of course, now, more than ever, she knew she could not marry Edmund.
 
Though she felt secure with him, for he’d never make her feel the dangerous temptations that the mere thought of the duke presented, marrying him would be utter lunacy.
 
After all, it would put her in regular contact with the duke.
 
Regardless of which estate Clarendon chose to offer Edmund as a residence, they would undoubtedly be meeting regularly.

I must sever my connections with the family and get away from here, before I do something completely stupid—like fall in love with the man.
 

Then, glancing at Edmund, she shook her head, unequal to the task of formulating a sensitive, tactful withdrawal from the betrothal.
 
She needed a few moments to compose herself.
 

Forcing a smile, she spoke, “Edmund, you said you also had news.
 
I’m writhing with curiosity, so do tell me.
 
We can talk about what I wanted to discuss after.”

Tina became uncomfortably aware that he had been watching her as she frowned and paused, for he now hesitated, and continued to examine her expression for a few moments.
 
Then, he shrugged.
 
“All right.
 
But I should emphasize that I haven’t begun to make any plans yet.
 
If you don’t like the idea, then you can consider it dismissed, all right?”

That caught her attention.
 
“All right.”

“I’ve been offered a position as a collector in India.
 
I’m very tempted to accept.
 
There are many excellent opportunities there—and you know how I’ve always been fascinated by distant lands.
 
But I didn’t want to agree to anything until I spoke to you, Tina, because of course, I shall need your resilience, your strength and your support even more should we decide to move there.
 
You must understand that it will mean leaving England for several years at least, if not longer.
 
Who knows if we will even come back, once we’ve made a life for ourselves there?”

Tina released the explosive breath she had been holding while he spoke, all her plans shuffling and rearranging themselves at his words.
 

“India?” she said, the word conjuring up wild oriental images from the battered old volumes of Galland’s
1001 Nuits
in Uncle Charles’s library.
 
And then the other implications began to sink in.
 
…will mean leaving England for several years at least, if not longer…
 

Edmund nodded.
 
“We’ll have to face many challenges as we build our life there together.
 
It won’t be easy.
 
But I’m confident that if we have each other, we’ll be able to weather any difficulties we encounter and come out the other side triumphant.”

Tina looked at Edmund, her good friend and surrogate brother.
 
She swallowed.
 
He had originally offered for her out of concern for her future.
 
But, even she recognized that he spoke the truth when he said he would have need of her in India.
 
After all, while he might have his pick of women should he choose to stay in England, far fewer would consent to accompany Edmund all the way to India, no matter how eligible a
parti
he might be.
 
As well, though Edmund was too polite to say as much, Tina knew her business and administrative skills could prove invaluable in such a context.
 

And of course, the bond of affection they shared
would
allow them to support each other through the harder times.
…will mean leaving England for several years at least, if not longer…
 

Perhaps it would be the perfect solution,
she reflected.
 
It would get me away from the duke.
 
And I should love to see India—everything I’ve read about it has intrigued me.
 
Would it be so very wrong to marry him after all, if he’ll have genuine need of what little I can bring to the union?
 
Other people have married with even less affection than what we share.
 
After all, I love him.

A smile began to quirk at her mouth as she looked at his beloved face.
 
Yes,
she thought, nodding slowly.

“It seems a capital idea, Edmund.
 
Let’s go to India!” she exclaimed, the notion taking hold of her imagination.
 
Her relief at the idea of escaping her dangerous feelings for the duke was exceeded only by the ache of knowing she might never see him again once she left England.
 
And that is exactly why you must go,
she assured herself.
 
You are in far too much danger of becoming a pathetic sort of creature, languishing after a man who is in all ways out of your reach.

Edmund chuckled at her enthusiasm.
 
“Excellent.
 
I’m so glad the idea appeals to you, Tina, for I have to admit, I’m very excited by it myself.
 
To be honest, if I hadn’t been so worried that Clarendon might get himself killed and leave me heir, I probably would have left the old country long before this.”

“These were the plans you always hinted at so mysteriously, weren’t they?”

“Not specifically, love.
 
I had some notion of traveling, seeing a bit of the world.
 
India in particular has always fascinated me, but I didn’t necessarily expect to have the opportunity to go there.”

“Why didn’t you tell me of all this before?” Tina asked, feeling a little hurt by his reticence—though of course, she had not confided all her plans to him, either.

“I suppose part of me feared that if I spoke of such hopes, they might never come about.”

Tina chuckled, shaking her head.
 
“I don’t know where you get these notions, Edmund.
 
You must own that
some
of them are rather odd!”

“The Practical Miss Merriweather speaks and we must all bow to her pronouncements,” he intoned, giving her a playful nudge.

“Oh stop!” she exclaimed, laughing at the familiar gibe.
 
“So tell me, how did you come to learn of this position?
 
As a collector, you say?”
 

He nodded.
 
“It was actually a direct result of that bloody errand Mother insisted I run in person.
 
Her cousin was hosting a fellow named Montgomery.
 
He’s based in Delhi, from what I understand, or somewhere thereabouts.
 
At any rate, once he learned that I had read law, he told me about the need for collectors and basically offered me a position if I wanted it.”

“How exciting!”

“Indeed,” he agreed, looking more animated than Tina had seen him in a long time.
 
“But Monty’s going to be heading back soon.
 
I made him promise to wait until I had a chance to come back here and discuss it with you.
 
Now that I have, I’ll need to ride on to London so we can work out more of the details before he leaves.”

“But you’ve only just arrived!
 
And you seem tired, Edmund.”