Accepting one’s fate and making the most of opportunities were said to be the secret to happiness. Dr Taylor might have found a miracle cure for the pox had he focused on his skills in botany. But a bitter heart is its own poison. Every wicked deed is like another dose.
Christian closed his eyes as his head fell back against the squab. He waited to feel a crippling bitterness, too, and yet love was the only sensation burning in his chest.
Sucking in a breath, he opened the door and jumped down to the pavement. The soft glow of candlelight broke through a gap in the drawing room curtains. Hopefully, someone was waiting to share a brandy with him, even if it was Mrs Hibbet.
Bamfield opened the front door as Christian approached. “Welcome home, my lord.” The butler took his hat. “Have you eaten? I can arrange for a light supper.”
“There’s no need. I had dinner with the Home Secretary.” Indeed, Christian had sent for a clean change of clothes. Still, the smell of sewerage clung to his nostrils.
The butler inclined his head. “Lord Trevane is in the drawing room should you wish to join him.”
“Thank you, Bamfield.” The butler opened his mouth to speak, but Christian tapped him on the upper arm. “Get yourself off to bed. It’s been a long day, and I shall retire shortly.”
“But, my lord, you have—”
“Don’t fret, Bamfield. I shall snuff out the candles.” Christian strode into the drawing room to find Vane, minus his boots and cravat, sprawled out on the chaise. Something troubled his friend, but Christian was so absorbed with his own problems he’d not had a chance to broach the subject.
“I’m awake, Farleigh,” Vane said as Christian crept closer to the chaise. “Fetch a glass and have a drink with me.” Vane sat up and dragged his hand through his hair. “There’s enough left in the decanter.”
Christian poured them both a brandy, handed Vane a glass and then dropped into the seat opposite.
Vane took a swig. “I believe congratulations are in order.”
“Congratulations? Are you referring to my problems at Everleigh?” Christian frowned. His note made no mention of the doctor, only that he was meeting Peel.
“I am referring to your upcoming nuptials.”
“Do you know something I don’t?” While he had every intention of asking Rose to marry him, the words had not yet left his lips.
Vane gave a devilish grin. “Your lady love is upstairs and has been waiting for hours.”
Christian’s heart skipped a beat. “Rose is here?”
“Indeed. Lord and Lady Dovecot were passing as she entered, and I gave them a little wave. As my reputation is not without blemish, if you don’t marry her I’ll have to.” Vane swallowed a mouthful of brandy. “I don’t suppose it would be a hardship. The lady is rather unconventional, just the sort of wife a man in my position might find appealing.”
Christian raised a challenging brow. “Be thankful you’re my friend else you’d be on your arse for that comment.”
“Be thankful you’re my friend else I’d have pressed the lady for a little more than a smile.” Vane sat forward. “Rest assured, Farleigh, your love has spent the evening with my sister, your over-friendly housekeeper, and those bundles of noise you call children.”
“Is Rose with Lillian now?” The urge to dash upstairs proved overwhelming.
Vane shrugged. “Everything went quiet almost an hour ago,” he stared at the amber liquid in the glass, “although that might be down to the brandy numbing my brain.”
Christian considered his friend. The man was punishing himself for something. It could only be his failure to protect his sister.
“What happened to Lillian, it wasn’t your fault, Vane.”
Vane shot out of his seat. “Damn right it was. I might have fought the war, but Lillian bears the battle scars.” He dragged his hand down his face. “I seem to have a knack for ruining the only women I’ve ever cared about.”
Women? Despite his many encounters, Vane could mean only one other person.
“You’re not to blame for Miss Darcy’s fate, either.”
At the mere mention of her name, Vane sucked in a breath. A darkness passed behind his bright blue eyes. Whether it was pain or a warning to tread carefully, Christian didn’t know.
Vane turned his back and strode over to the decanters on the side table. “Why are you wasting your time here with me, when the answer to all your prayers is waiting for you upstairs?”
Christian sensed his friend retreating. The barriers were up. Not even a horde of vicious Vikings could break their way through.