The Fairest of Them All (22 page)

“I love you for what you've done for me,” ­Charlene answered, and then added with a new maturity, “but this man has become my family. Sarah, I can't imagine living without him. My home is with him. I would have you come with us—­”

“Oh, I won't do that. I can't. My plays . . . George promised Sunday that he is thinking of staging one this summer. This is my chance. I've worked hard.”

“Our door will always be open to you, won't it, Jack?”

“Absolutely.”

Sarah placed her hand on Char's shoulder. “It hurts to give you up. My life was empty until you came into it. And now, well . . .”

“I love you, Sarah. I can never repay you for what you've done.”

“Yes, you can,” Sarah answered, realizing a truth. “You can repay me by living your own life fully and completely. You have my blessing, Char. Be happy with your life.”

Any response to her gracious words was cut off by the sound of shouting outside. It was the duke. The horses were apparently protesting being asked to move after finally reaching what they had hoped was their destination. They had been ready for a good rubdown and their dinner.

Sarah turned back to the couple. “Actually, there is one request I have, Char. Ask Lord Jack to make peace with his brother before it is too late.”

“I did not invite him up here,” Jack answered.

“He had Jack locked up in a storage room,” Char agreed. “He kept him prisoner.”

“And he is your
family
,” Sarah said. “Your twin. I agree that he is infuriating. After the first day with him, I thought Char was wise to run. However, don't let matters end this way, my lord. Family is important. You and your brother both know it. You are just too stubborn to cry quarter first. However, once you've settled the matter, I'll serve as witness to your wedding.”

O
ne thing Jack had learned over the past days with Charlene was how much she admired and loved her aunt. When she spoke about Sarah ­Pettijohn's bravery in confronting the current Lord Dearne and how much she had taken on to protect her niece, his opinion of this woman had soared.

And now she was telling him he needed to make peace with his twin.

“He will not want it,” Jack predicted. “His ­actions have been inexcusable and he knows it.”

“Then all the more reason for you to be the larger man,” Mrs. Pettijohn said. “Go.”

Jack walked out of the smithy, not for ­Charlene but because Mrs. Pettijohn had let him see reason.

The day's light was waning. Only a fool would set out on a trip at this hour, and Gavin definitely qualified for the description.

His team was balking. They were tired and didn't wish to work together. Consequently, Gavin had rolled over a small stacked stone wall and caught the back left wheel. Jack was well aware of what such a silly accident could mean to such a reputed whip.

The woman who owned the wall was not pleased, either. Gavin had climbed down from the vehicle and was trying to speak calmly to her. Jack went to the horses, who stamped ­nervously.

“I will pay to repair the fence,” Gavin told the woman.

“I want it repaired right now,” she demanded. “I don't need money. I need my fence mended.”

“I will help you,” Jack called out.

“I don't need
your
help” was the answer.

Jack took a deep breath and tamped down his temper.

Seeing his brother in this disarray made him realize that Mrs. Pettijohn was right. “Well, you have it anyway.” He began unhitching the horses. “Seriously, Your Grace, you are a pain in the arse.”

“It takes one to know one.”

Jack stopped, his hand on a leather lead, at the childish rejoinder. “Did you really just say that? Please, promise me you haven't said that since we were boys.”

His twin ignored the barb. “Stop unhitching my team. I'm
not
staying here.” He was reaching in his pocket for his money purse. “How much for the damage to the wall?” he asked the woman.

“I've never known you to not think of your horses,” Jack continued. “You can leave, but you'll have to do it without this team. They are spent.” He whistled over some lads who had gathered to see all the commotion. “Take these horses up to the inn's stables. That man will pay you handsomely,” he said, pointing to Gavin.

Meanwhile, the woman said, “I don't want money. I want you to
repair
the damage.”

What was there for Gavin to do?

He pulled out some coins and gave them to one of the boys waiting expectantly. The lads took the horses.

Jack walked over to inspect the injury to the wall and the wheel. “You are lucky. The wheel is fine. We just need to lift it up and over. The two of us can do that easy enough.”

“And my wall,” the woman said. “Repair my wall.”

“We will,” Gavin assured her.

He'd said “we.” Jack took that as a good sign.

Gavin went to the other side of the vehicle. “Lift on the count of three.”

Jack complied and they picked the phaeton up and over the low wall. For a few coins more, the boys pulled the lightweight vehicle to the inn as well.

About twenty stones had been knocked over. Jack started stacking them back into place. Gavin came over and helped.

On the tip of Jack's tongue was a comment about the duke dirtying his hands . . . and then he realized that wasn't what he wanted to say to his brother. Yes, he was angry at his twin. Furious, even.

But he was also tired of resentment between them. He would have been crazed with fury if Gavin had won Charlene. Loving her had filled an emptiness inside him, a longing he'd not been willing to recognize until she'd shaken him up.

Perhaps Gavin had hoped she would fill in the same way. Disappointment was always a bitter pill and, for Gavin, this one came with the ­humiliation of knowing all his contemporaries had watched his courtship and would know he'd been rejected.

Both he and Gavin reached for the last stone at the same time. They found themselves practically eyeball to eyeball. Jack stood.

Gavin placed the stone. He looked to the disgruntled cottager. “Is this correct?”

She took her time reviewing their work and then said, “It will be good enough.” On those words she marched back into her home and shut the door.

“Well,” Gavin said, imitating her manner with a bit of humor. “We shall keep this incident between us.”

Jack laughingly agreed.

The two of them faced each other. They did not move.

Gavin's gaze drifted back to the smithy. “Lady Charlene is a true pearl.”

“Aye, she is, but she is also a willful lass. I don't doubt for a second that she will play me a merry tune and yet I love her. I'd do anything for her.”

“Even lock up your own blood?” The humor had left Gavin's eyes. A tight muscle worked in his jaw.

Jack braced himself, not knowing what to expect.

“The trip up here has given me time to think,” Gavin said. “I'm not proud of what I did.”

“Why did you do it?”

“I felt betrayed. I wanted to hurt you the way you wounded me. I wanted to break you. I'd opened myself to you, Jack. I shared what I would not tell anyone.”

“Are you speaking about telling me you haven't slept with a woman—­”

Gavin took a step back, tensing as if he didn't even want mention of the subject. “It is an odd place to be, my age and not having experienced what almost every other man from the rat catcher to the king has.”

“It is nothing to be ashamed of and easily ­remedied.”

Gavin ignored him. Instead, he continued. “When I found out she preferred you, it raised old emotions. And it was like when you left years ago. I was shocked then, Jack. I'd always thought you shared everything and then you just left. For a while I wanted to believe you were dead because then there was an explanation. However, I knew in that way we have that you were alive.”

“Did you tell Father?”

Gavin shook his head. “No.”

Now it was Jack's turn to feel uneasy. To ­explain. And how does one put into words rash behavior and make it sound palatable? Especially when he had no regrets.

“I have no explanation for why I left, Gavin, other than a belief I'd go mad if I had to spend more time with books and being under Father's thumb. I hated being the cupbearer. You are the one he valued. Ben and I were just spares in case something happened to you. And he was a hard taskmaster. I will say he was more demanding of you than he was with us.”

“He had to be with me. His standards were high.”

“Maybe, or maybe not. You don't want to be a paragon, Gavin. There is no breathing room there. You can't live your life meeting a dead man's ­expectations.” He paused a moment and then added, “Any more than I discovered I could spend mine in your shadow. Our wills are too strong, brother.”

“But to give up your country?”

“I've lived out of it longer than I've lived in it. However, the adventure of carving my own ­reputation suits me. And here is my advice to you, live the life you want.”

“A duke cannot be that free—­”

“That is nonsense. There are hosts of them who are rascals and rakes.”

“I'm not cut of that cloth.”

“I imagine you could be if you gave yourself half a chance. I was and I bet Ben has had his moments. Gavin, you deserve happiness. Even Mother has Fyclan Morris.”

“Not actually. She was telling me before all of this nonsense started that they were having a parting of the ways. She told me that although they are friends, Fyclan may never recover from his wife's death. He loved her deeply and Mother doesn't wish to be Jenny's shadow.”

“I can understand. Although he may change his mind with time. I never thought to love again after Hope. If anything happened to Charlene, I would go mad with grief. However, is Mother all right? She appeared to enjoy having an escort when she went out.”

“She told me she wants to be free to find a man who will give her all of himself.” He fell quiet a moment. “Do you remember telling me that I needed to be attentive to Lady Charlene?”

“You wanted me to entertain her whenever you were called away.”

“Is that when I lost her?”

“No, Gavin. I would not be so dishonorable. However, what lies between Charlene and me started when we first met, which was weeks before your ball.”

“Weeks?”

Jack nodded. “I caught her picking Matthew Rice's pocket.”

“You knew she was a thief?”

“Did you?”

“Not until Mrs. Pettijohn informed me. I was shocked.”

“I was shocked as well—­first when I actually caught her and tried to shake Rice's purse out of her.
That
is when I discovered she was female.”

“Did she give you back the purse?”

“No, she almost gelded me.”

“Oh,” his brother said as if this was new, and troubling, information.

“The second time I was shocked was when I recognized her on your arm,” Jack confessed.

“You could have warned me,” Gavin said.

“Would you have believed me?”

He didn't even have to consider the matter a second. “Probably not. I was bowled over by her. However, now, hearing what you have to say, I may be lucky she chose you.”

Jack laughed his agreement.

Gavin took a step back. He looked tired, weary. He held out his hand. “Can you forgive my actions in London? I've cost you your opportunity to make your mark.”

Jack pushed aside the hand and he gave his brother a hug. “My mission was a wild shot from the beginning. Lawrence and Rice had been forced upon me to undermine me.”

“At least they sent you. That was good. You did try and your cause is noble. But in the end, Jack, I didn't have anything to do with your delegation. No one wanted to listen to even me speak about the grievances.”

“Will they be surprised when my country ­declares war?”

“Sometimes I suspect it is the only way to get men to think.”

“A pity.”

“Yes and a waste.” Gavin turned again to the smithy. “Well, shall I go witness your marriage?”

“I would be honored.”

“Then let us do it.”

Side by side, they walked toward the building. Jack felt compelled to say, “My actions have never been against you, Gavin. Ever. I was just trying to be my own man.”

Gavin nodded. He might not have been ­convinced. Jack would have to give him time.

But a new thought struck him. “Mrs. Pettijohn is a widow. Do you not find her attractive?”

Gavin's answer was a sharp bark of laughter.

“Well?” Jack pressed.

“You would wish on me an old actress with the tongue of a harpy?”

“She's our age, brother.”

“No, she is older than we are. I know because at one point I made her so angry she said that never in her four-­and-­thirty years had she met a man who made her want to bite through nails. I took it as a victory of sorts.”

Jack shrugged. “She is a redhead. They are known for strong personalities.”

“True, but I'm not going to marry one. A man needs peace at home.”

And on that note, they entered the smithy together.

Charlene had been watching for them. She approached them and Gavin took her hand and apologized for all that he had done.

“If it wasn't for you, Your Grace, I would not be here marrying the man I love.”

Gavin released her hand. “You are lucky, Jack.”

Jack clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder and said quietly. “It will happen to you in good time. Have faith, brother.”

Gavin's smile turned rueful. He looked to Mr. Lang, who sat on a stool waiting. “I'm ready to witness my brother's marriage.”

T
he vows were said quickly. Sarah and the duke signed as the witnesses, and Jack and Charlene were legally married.