DefeatedbyLove (10 page)

He wiped his cheeks, not surprised to find them wet. It was
just such a relief to be here. He raised a hand and watched it shake. Maybe it
was fatigue, but he’d guess it was just the overwhelming emotions coursing
through him. He’d felt it coming on, this little breakdown. That’s why he’d
insisted on a bedroom. He wasn’t ready to share this yet. It was a weakness,
and he didn’t want to appear weak to Daniel. As if he was still that stupid boy
who couldn’t take care of himself or anyone else.

He’d imagined Daniel would be angry but overwhelmed at his
return and his declaration of love. Perhaps he might have been a bit hesitant
and required some chasing, as he had during the war, but that he’d be willing
just the same. Kensington had told him that Daniel was not with anyone, that
he’d had lovers, but most were for one or two nights only, to never darken his
door again. He’d closed himself off from love and devoted all his time to his
friends. He’d painted a picture of a sad and lonely Daniel, and Harry had eaten
it right up. He should have known it was too good to be true. Not that he wanted
Daniel to have been sad and lonely for ten years—although God knew Harry had
been—but
that
Daniel would have welcomed Harry back a sight more
enthusiastically than the one who’d punched him at the door.

Christy’s presence complicated things. He’d known that he’d
have to deal with her. She deserved more, much more than she’d gotten with him.
He’d assumed she was living the life of a married but available woman, similar
to a widow but with a little more freedom since marriage wouldn’t have been an
option for any of her dalliances.

How had he miscalculated so badly? Daniel was cold and
arrogant and Christy was pregnant with some burly coachman’s baby, and his
loathsome father and cousin—who he had quite forgotten about—were up to their
old tricks. At least Christy didn’t seem to harbor a lingering tendre for the
cowardly coachman. She still seemed practical as ever, his Christy.

He’d hoped for an annulment or a divorce or something of the
sort. Seeing as how he’d run off days after their wedding it wouldn’t have been
hard. But now she was pregnant. He was going to have to think about it and
consult his attorney. Somehow he’d find a way to free them both without making
her life worse. It was obvious Gantry wanted her. And Harry was more than
willing to let her go to him if that’s what she wanted. Honestly, he hardly
knew her at all. Just a few days of desperate confessions and an abysmal fuck.
He had no idea what she really wanted.

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He was just
so bloody tired. He couldn’t think anymore. He needed sleep. When he woke up,
he’d figure it all out.

Harry crept quietly down the hall with his small trunk of
possessions. Most of the house was still asleep except for several of the
servants. He was still on sea time, waking with the sunrise. He was also
starving, having slept through supper the day before.

He was very careful not to wake Daniel next door when he
entered the guestroom. The ticking clock on the mantel set his nerves on edge.
It reminded him of how much time he’d spent too far away. With alacrity he
unpacked the trunk and moved into the room. He might not have much, but it was
still a victory of sorts. It was harder to eject a man who had taken up
residence. He had no intention of leaving now that he was there. What better
place to woo Daniel than in his own house? People tended to let down their
guard when they were at home. He wanted to see Daniel at home, actually. He’d
never had the opportunity during the war. It was always rushed and clandestine,
secrets shared before Daniel had to run off and kill someone. Harry thought it
might be nice to see him with his feet up, brandy in hand, reading before the
fire. The thought made him a little lightheaded. Or maybe that was hunger.

He looked around at what he’d accomplished. His extra
clothes, as ragged as the ones he still wore from yesterday, hung in the
armoire. Two moth-eaten books he’d collected on the way sat on the table by the
bed. A comb—missing teeth, naturally—and a brush rested on the washstand, next
to a toothbrush and powder. He’d traded his third book for those. A man had to
have priorities. He’d tucked his knives and the gun he usually carried into a
drawer, sure he wouldn’t need those this morning. He looked again. That was it.
That was all he had to his name when he appeared to win back Daniel. What a sad
state of affairs. After he’d eaten he was off to see Beanne. He needed funds,
clothes, a haircut and whatever else a gentleman in London required.

For the first time he looked around the room. It was quite
well furnished for a guestroom. Nary a dust speck in sight. The walls were
painted dark blue and partially paneled with dark wood, which matched the
furniture. It was a very masculine room and made him curious about the rest of
the house. He’d only had eyes for Daniel yesterday. Now it was time to explore
his domain. The more knowledge he had, the better to win the day.

He wandered out and down the hall. There were expensive oil
paintings on the wall interspersed with a watercolor or two. Harry wasn’t
familiar with the artist names, but that didn’t mean much. He’d never been an
aficionado of art. But it looked as if Daniel was. The two tables in the
hall—one along the wall between bedrooms, and one against the end wall—were gilt
and cream marble, a nice touch in the rather dark space. The floor was
carpeted. It seemed a luxury, but Harry vaguely remembered how cold and damp
English winters were. Four bedrooms in all. That was a bit much for a bachelor.
Then again, at least three were full now, so it was good that Daniel thought
ahead.

He took the stairs down to the second floor. The banister
was gleaming from a recent polish. The whole house gleamed, actually, between
the polish, the marble and the gilt. There were mirrors on quite a few walls as
well. He wondered if it was for light or for vanity. Either way, he didn’t
care. Daniel could look at himself all day if he wished. Harry would look with
him.

“May I help you, sir?” The butler stood at attention on the
other side of the entry hall. Harry had heard him coming up the servants’
stairs.

“I find that I am famished,” Harry said with a friendly
smile. “Do you know where I might find some breakfast?”

“Of course,” the butler replied. He gestured to a door on
his right. “This way.”

He opened the door and Harry was ushered into a small room
bright with sunshine. It was going to be a glorious day. He grinned at the
table set before him. “Thank you.”

“I am Matheson,” the butler replied. “If you require
anything else, please ask. I shall let Cook know you are awake. Breakfast
should be arriving shortly.” He glided out, his footsteps eerily silent on the
thick carpeting. Harry wasn’t sure what to make of him. Friend or foe? Time
would tell.

He sat for a minute or two and then grew bored. He got up
and walked around the room. There was a nice watercolor of the seashore. Not
sure where it was. He squinted. Looked like some sort of temple on the hill.
Maybe Greece? He’d only made a short stop in Athens, so didn’t know too much
about it. Yet another country at war, a civil one there, though England was
bound to get involved. He hadn’t mentioned that stop to Daniel. What a bloody
mess the world was. Seashore looked nice, though. He’d like to take Daniel to
the seashore. Swim in the ocean with him. Harry sighed contentedly. Now that he
was here thoughts like that weren’t as impossible as they’d once seemed.

He wandered over to the window and drew aside the draperies.
He’d never been to Bloomsbury before. The hackney driver hadn’t wanted to take
him here. He’d lectured him on making trouble for his betters. Apparently he
looked worse than he’d thought, but he’d been hanging about on a freighter with
seamen. He didn’t have much perspective on fashion.

The street outside was quiet. A few wagons passed, delivering
the day’s groceries to houses along the lane. Some footmen dashed down the
street, probably to fetch
The Times
for their masters. There was a sort
of stillness to the morning that spoke of routine and traditions here. In St.
Louis, where he’d made his home, this sort of morning silence had an
expectation to it, a calm before the storm. There was an energy on the streets
there and it infected you, until you bounded out of bed and started running,
looking for something, anything, to do, to try, to own. It had grown a bit
exhausting.

He let the curtain fall. Like other chapters in his life
he’d let St. Louis go. He’d enjoyed his time there. The city had fostered deep
and abiding friendships that he would always hold dear. But his heart was here.
It beat in this strange house, on this strange street in a familiar old world.
He knew as soon as he saw Daniel yesterday—and his heart had slowed, his mind
had cleared, and he breathed easily for the first time in ten years—that this
was where he belonged. Everything here sang of Daniel, and his heart beat the
same rhythm.

The door opened behind him. “Oh, bloody hell,” Daniel said
irritably. “I was hoping it had been a bad dream.”

Harry grinned. He’d even missed Daniel’s bad moods. “Sorry,
no such luck.” He spread his arms out to his sides. “Here I am.”

Daniel rolled his eyes and sat down at the table. He snapped
his paper open and lifted it to block Harry from sight. Then he abruptly
lowered it. “Matheson!” he called. The door immediately opened and the butler stepped
in. “Where is my breakfast?” Daniel asked in clipped tones.

“Right here, sir,” Matheson said, stepping aside to allow a
footman and a maid to enter bearing steaming dishes, which they put on the
sideboard.

Harry walked straight over and picked up a plate.

“Don’t you dare,” Daniel warned. He slapped the paper down
on the table and stood up. “You may have whatever I leave.”

Harry laughed. “Go right ahead,” he offered, stepping back.
“I shall follow your lead.”

Daniel made a face and picked up a plate. He took a great
deal of time trying to decide which steak was the best and nearly emptied the
platter of eggs. Harry didn’t mind. He had a feeling more food would be
arriving. He filled his plate with steak and eggs and crumpets and tomatoes. He
nearly cried with joy when the coffeepot was brought in.

He sat and dug into his meal. It was several minutes, and an
empty plate, before he noticed Daniel was staring at him, annoyed again.
“What?” he asked, looking around.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” he asked. “You
eat like a starving beggar.”

“Well, the starving part is right,” he said. “I suppose it’s
been a day or two.” He actually wasn’t sure. He’d been so nervous about their
imminent arrival in London that he’d hardly touched his last meal on the ship,
which might have been two days ago at least. No wonder he’d been so hungry.
“The fare on the ship, as you can imagine, was merely passable.” He pointed to
his plate. “But this is a feast. Do you eat like this every day?”

Daniel looked very smug. “Yes I do. Cook is a genius.”

“Well, it’s just steak and eggs,” Harry said. “I’m not sure
I’d go that far.” A coffee cup clattered behind him and he turned to see the
butler glaring at him. “What I meant to say,” he tried again, “is that genius
is not good enough to describe it.” He cleared his throat. “Coffee, please?” he
practically begged.

The servants’ door opened and more steaming dishes appeared.
At the same moment the door to the hallway opened and Christy came in, her nose
in the air sniffing. “Oh, beef pie,” she said as if she’d discovered gold.
“Matheson, you must thank Cook for me. I know she only makes it because I love
it so.”

“Of course, madam,” Matheson replied. “I shall give her your
regards.”

Christy headed straight for the sideboard and Harry wasn’t
sure she even noticed him and Daniel sitting there. She filled her plate with
several delicacies, including beef pie, pigeon, and plum tart. “For breakfast?”
he asked Daniel quietly.

Daniel shrugged and held out his empty coffee cup. Matheson
immediately filled it and Daniel went back to reading the paper.

“Good morning, Harry,” Christy said with a smile as she
spread jam on a crumpet. She looked damn good today. Positively glowing. Her
cheeks were rosy, her eyes bright, her smile contagious.

“Good morning,” he said. “And how are you today? You look
lovely.”

She blushed. “Thank you,” she said politely. “You look…fit.”
She blinked a few times as she took in his appearance.

Daniel laughed. “He looks like hell, pardon my saying so.
The maids were airing out his bedchamber as I came downstairs.”

Harry sniffed himself. He didn’t smell that bad. “Well then,
my plans for the morning are fortuitous,” he told them.

“Why? Are you leaving?” Gantry asked as he strolled in the
open breakfast room door. “I let myself in.” He held up a key.

Harry wasn’t sure he liked the notion of Gantry coming and
going from Daniel’s as he pleased. He frowned. “Do you live here?”

“Practically,” drawled Daniel, “but not by invitation.”

“I invited him,” Christy said. She held out a hand and
Gantry kissed it lingeringly.

“Good morning,” he said. His tone spoke of good night and
Harry frowned some more. Christy blushed and yanked her hand back before taking
a bite of pigeon.

“Where are you going?” Daniel asked. “Dare I hope it is to
lodgings of your own?”

“Don’t be silly,” Christy said, saving Harry the trouble.
“Harry doesn’t have a London house. He doesn’t have a house at all, except mine
in Surrey, and that’s too small. And neither of us are familiar with London.
And what about his family?” She looked so upset she might cry, and she put down
her fork. Daniel looked quite alarmed.

Gantry glared at him and Daniel. “What are you trying to do
to the poor girl?” he snapped. “She shouldn’t be moved at this stage. You ought
to know that. You could jeopardize her health.”

Harry wanted to kiss them both. “Well, if that’s the case,”
he said gravely, “we shall have to stay here. Christy has been through enough,
don’t you think, Daniel?”

Daniel looked as if he wanted to do away with them all. “Of course,”
he said smoothly. “Consider my home yours. Temporarily.”

“Why, thank you—” Harry began.

“By temporarily I mean until other arrangements can be
made,” Daniel cut him off. “As in a few days, a week at most. A few days to
look for apartments, and a few days to sign the papers. Temporarily.”

“Understood,” Harry said, nodding his acquiescence even as
his mind whirled with victory. “Temporarily. Just until Christy finds someplace
she likes. And where she’s comfortable, of course. And we’ll have to find servants
for her too. You can’t expect her to make do for herself in her condition.”

“Oh, good point,” Gantry rushed to agree. “Servants. And, of
course, we’re still waiting on her new clothes from the seamstress.”

That took Harry aback. “New clothes? What happened to her
old ones?”

“Well, I brought some,” she said with a sniff into her
handkerchief. “But I lost them when I was almost kidnapped. I was afraid to go
back home for more.”

“Of course you were,” Harry said staunchly. “I don’t blame
you a bit.” He turned to Daniel. “Just give me the bill.”

“I intend to,” Daniel said. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

“Speaking of new clothes,” Harry said, deeming it prudent to
change the subject, “I need some. Christy, you and I need to visit the
solicitor today, and I can get a bank draft and then you can help me choose
some new clothes.”

“Me?” she squeaked. “I don’t know anything about men’s
clothes.” She looked a little panicked. Maybe she was still afraid to leave the
house after the attack. Before he could reassure her she pointed to Daniel.
“Take Daniel. He knows all about men’s fashions. Simon says he’s infamous for
his dapper attire. Take him.”

“Marvelous idea,” Gantry chimed in. He was filling a plate
at the sideboard. “I shall stay here to keep an eye on Christy. Mrs. Ashbury.”
He cleared his throat.

“An eye?” Daniel said with mock surprise. “I was under the
impression at least one hand was required for that.” Harry coughed to cover a
laugh while Gantry glared. Christy blushed and looked miserably down at her plate.
Daniel took pity on her. “I meant, of course, to help her navigate the house
and any other tasks she needs done.”

“Of course,” Harry said, maintaining a straight face. “So
you’ll come with me? Excellent.” He stood up before Daniel could protest. “We
should leave soon.”