Romancing the Rogue (164 page)

Carolina's cheeks had never hurt so much from laughing; or pretending to, at least.

Edward meant well by trying to entertain her with stories of John as a boy, but if he meant to distract her, it wasn't working.

And judging by the worry lines on his face that seemed to get deeper by the minute, he wasn't any more able to put John's earlier actions out of his mind than she was.

“I hate to be impolite, but I think it's best if we all go to bed,” Carolina said, offering the entire room her best smile.

“I quite agree,” Regina, Lady Watson agreed with a smile of understanding. “Come along, Alex.”

“But I want to hear more about when Papa had to save Uncle John from drowning in the creek because he'd tied himself to the boat,” Alex protested, looking up at his papa with the widest eyes Carolina had ever seen.

Edward sighed. “How about I tell you the story of how your mama broke that very boat when we get upstairs?”

Alex blinked up at his father, clearly weighing his options. He scrambled down off his father's lap and ran across the room to his mother. “You didn't really break the boat, did you?”

Her face grew pink. “I'm afraid I did. But if you want your papa to tell you of my shame, you'll have to come upstairs.”

“All right,” he said at last. “I've heard the story of Uncle John enough. I've never heard this one.” The adorable boy turned around and waved for his father to accompany them.

Carolina stood up, too, and led them up the stairs to Gabriel's old room. “You must forgive the lack of space. Father built the house right after he and Mother married and could only afford to build three bedrooms. This was Gabriel's before the war, and unfortunately there is only one bed.”

Regina's gentle hand landed on Carolina's shoulder. “There is no need for you to explain anything. We are accustomed to sharing the same bed, so anything you can offer will be quite sufficient, I assure you.”

Carolina accepted the older woman's reassurance and opened the door for them.

“See, just as I said, it's perfect,” Regina said, gliding into the room that had been cleared of almost everything save the bed and armoire. Regina immediately started to unpack their luggage, which Dalton had brought up earlier.

“Have a good night,” Carolina said, stepping out of the room.

“Carolina,” Edward said, joining her in the hall.

“Yes?”

He sighed and combed his fingers through his blond hair the same way she'd seen John do when he was frustrated or uncertain. “Don't give up on him. I have no idea what goes on in that brain of his, but I do know he didn't mean those words he said earlier.”

“I know,” she said simply. “I might not have known him as long as you have, but I think I know him just as well.”

At least, she hoped she did.

The John she knew wouldn't have made that declaration and disappeared for the rest of the day. There had to be more than what she knew. Of course, it'd be a little easier to convince herself of this had he thought to inform her of anything before he vanished.

Blinking back the tears pricking her eyes, brought on by yet another emotionally difficult day, she opened the door to her room and froze.

“John?”

His smile didn't quite meet his eyes. “Is now a good time to talk?” he asked, extending her a glass of water.

“I suppose so,” she said laughingly as she closed her door, but did not take his offered glass. “Although I do wonder why you've waited so long to speak to me when you've had all evening to do so, and yet, you seemed to have made yourself scarce instead.”

He swallowed and set the glass down on the little end table next to him. “I know. And I'm sorry.”

“Oh? Was your evening as charming as mine?”

He frowned. “Are you angry with me?”

“Can you blame me? I spent the evening with both of our families while you were relaxing in solitude.”

“No, I suppose not,” he said quietly. “But you must know my evening wasn't any more enjoyable than yours.”

She doubted that. “Unless you think to convince me that you had to sit idle and hear tales of your past as a means to attempt to ease the suffocating tension, then I think I might have you beat. It was so awful, even my father excused himself early.”

“I have no plan to convince you of such,” he said quietly, his face grim. “However, while you merely had to listen to tales of my past, I had to spend the evening standing in dark corners reliving them and thinking of what I'd say to you when this moment arrived.”

Carolina cocked her head to the side. There was a rare look in his eye. Not uncertainty necessarily, but he was clearly uneasy and upset. “What's happened?”

“Why don't you come sit down?”

Her stomach lurched at his quiet tone and solemn expression, and she forced herself to walk to the bed and sit on the edge. “All right.”

John clasped his hands together behind his back and took a deep breath. “I want you to know that whatever decision you make regarding me once I'm finished, I'll respect.”

Bile rose in her throat. “Just tell me,” she croaked.

“I won't be able to return to England,” he said matter-of-factly.

“H-how come?”

His throat worked and his eyes grew shuttered and dim. “Because of a mistake I made in the past, I will have no future there if I do.”

“I—I don't understand.”

“I know,” he said; his voice terribly uneven. He grabbed the chair that was under her writing desk and moved it so he could sit in front of her. “When I was sixteen, I was sent down from school for the last time, and with the help of Edward, I began training to become a vicar.”

“John, there's no shame that you didn't finish school,” she said, reaching up to smooth back the hair that had fallen in his eyes.

He pulled away. “That's not the problem. I'd planned to go back to England and take my place as a vicar. But now I can't.”

“Because you got into trouble at school?”

He nodded.

“What could a sixteen-year-old boy have possibly done that was so bad his entire future has been tainted?” she asked, unable to hide the disbelief in her voice.

“Actually, I was fourteen when this particular incident happened,” he said without much emotion. “It was just never forgotten. In the following two years, I was sent home so often that Edward gave me the option to go to Harrow—the only other school suitable for a young man of my station—or to persuade the archbishop to allow me to start seminary early. I chose the latter. I didn't want to make new friends, or explain why I was joining in the middle of the academic term. I spent the following two years under the instruction of the archbishop and had just finished when I decided to leave for America.”

“Because he found out you'd been expelled from school?”

He shook his head. “No. I never told him. I was too ashamed to and believed Edward, when he told me not to worry, one mistake at fourteen wouldn't ruin my life.” He idly rubbed his jaw. “He meant well. He couldn't have predicted this.”

“Predicted what?” she burst out. For all his sudden interest in talking, he sure wasn't saying much.

“That I'll not be granted a vicarage because of it.”

“Because you were asked to leave school at sixteen or what happened when you were fourteen?” she asked, confused.

“The latter.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his long fingers up and down his face. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and uneven. “When I was thirteen, my father died and Edward took his place as baron. Being a baron demanded a lot more of his time than I was able to understand at thirteen. My entire life, he'd been there. Taking me on wild adventures down the creek or racing horses in the pasture. He always answered any question I could possibly think to ask.” A slim smile took his lips. “When I was ten and he sixteen, I asked why grapes tasted so good and raisins were horrid. He just smiled and said, 'God had to make some fruit so awful that when threatened to be made to eat it, you'd stay on your best behavior.'.

“But then, when Father died, it seemed that my closeness with Edward died right along with it. He made time for me, of course. But it wasn't every day of the summer like before, because he had a wealth of new responsibility to which he now had to attend. His answers to my questions went from being thought out and fun to clipped and rushed. We were both adapting to the changes that were filling our lives
—
his with new responsibility and mine, the awkwardness of becoming a young man
—
and I suddenly couldn't bring myself to ask the things I wanted to know. So when an opportunity to have my curiosity satisfied, without involving Edward, presented itself, I took it.”

Carolina had a feeling she already knew what he'd been curious about, but
her
curiosity demanded she ask, “What did you want to know about?”

“Ladies,” he said, unable to meet her eyes. “I know for those of your sex, interest in the opposite sex doesn't happen at such an early age, but for mine, it does; and I had no idea what to do or who to ask.”

Dread washed over her for the second time that day, sending every drop of her blood straight to her toes. She thought she knew him. She'd trusted him, not only with
her
body, but her heart, too. How could she have possibly been wrong?

Either oblivious to her distress or under the belief that if he confessed everything, his own conscience would be cleared, he continued. “Not long after Edward married Regina, one of my friends got a girl from a nearby tavern to agree to meet a little group of five of us out in a field south of the school one night.”

Carolina's stomach lurched, and that bile she'd swallowed earlier returned as horrible images of what she imagined he was about to tell her cycled through her mind.

“We all brought money to pay her, only things didn't go as planned.” He swallowed and took a deep breath. “She arrived as agreed, and we stared at her as if she were the most beautiful creature in existence—though to be blunt, she wasn't. But she was there and willing to give us the answers we sought but were afraid to ask our brothers.”

“And did she?” Carolina hated the way her voice wavered and her lip quivered.

“Not all of them.”

“Then…
What happened?”

John gripped his knees with his palms and his jaw ticked. “We decided on an order. I was to be last.” His lips formed a thin line that made little white lines appear around his mouth. “She'd brought us each a pint of ale with her, and despite my not drinking a drop, in a matter of minutes after Matthew Finch began taking his turn, I was just as sick as Oliver Vine, who'd consumed his pint and mine as if it were water.

“I tried to hold an impassive face and convince myself nothing was wrong. She'd come willingly. Besides, it was her profession. This wasn't anything she hadn't done before. They weren't hurting her. In fact, she acted as if she enjoyed their enthusiasm. But no matter what I told myself as I tried to find anything else to look at to distract myself from what was going on, I couldn't quell my unease. Then, my turn came.”

Without thought or hesitation, Carolina reached her trembling hand to his. Though this was a story no new bride would love to hear, it seemed it was just as hard for him to tell as it was for her to hear.

He turned his hand over and wrapped his fingers around her hand, giving her an affectionate squeeze. “I couldn't do it, Carolina.” His voice and her heart cracked simultaneously. “I couldn't shame her and my family that way. My brother didn't deserve to bear the shame for my actions. And, for as absurd as it might seem, considering she'd just entertained four of my friends, I didn't think that woman deserved to be shamed that way, either.”

“What of you?” She heard herself ask.

His cloudy blue eyes met hers. “For a boy of fourteen, it would seem that it was more shameful
not
to take my turn. My friends openly questioned my ability and taunted me as I helped her to her feet and gave her my shirt and breeches to replace the now filthy and torn garments she'd worn to meet us,” he said thickly. “I don't know what happened to her after that. I made sure she had all the money I'd carried with me and rode my horse back to Eton clad in only my smalls. That's when I was caught.”

“I see,” she said, commanding her numb fingers to squeeze his for reassurance. “You were sent home the next day?”

He nodded.

“Why didn't you explain your part?”

He shook his head. “It wouldn't have mattered. It wasn't that I was in trouble for hiring a prostitute, but for sneaking out.”

“Oh. And the other boys?”

“I didn't turn them in, if that's what you're wondering. But a few days after I'd been sent home, the story spread, and we were all called back to discuss the matter again,” he said almost off-handedly. “There wasn't an actual rule that said anything about what boys did in their personal time; however, the schoolmaster was a prig and took every excuse to send me home that he could.” He twisted his lips. “Not that I didn't sometimes deserve it. This particular incident wasn't the first time I'd gotten in trouble, but it was by far the worst and was never forgotten.

“And it seems six years later, it still hasn't been. That's why I can't go back, Carolina. The archbishop has somehow been informed of what happened that night, and he no longer believes I am fit to lead the lost souls of England to redemption.”