“My God! Why?” He stared as the awful suspicion formed. “Surely this is not about Joanna!”
Reggie actually smiled. “Dear Joanna. You still do not realize what a jewel you have, do you?”
He slammed his glass onto the table.
“Relax, Sedge. I have no designs on your wife, though I will admit this once that I love her. Deeply. But she has never returned my feelings, thank God. I am merely a friend and brother.”
“You are not making sense.”
“I suppose not.” He bit his lip, swallowed more brandy, then released a long sigh before finally meeting Sedge’s gaze. “You have never believed my vow to avoid marriage.”
“Who can predict the future? You might meet someone who can return your love one day.”
“God, I hope not!” He swallowed hard. “You’ve no idea how thankful I’ve been that Joanna doesn’t care. Any hint of infatuation would have meant cutting all contact. Treat her well, Sedge. She will bear the next marquess.”
“How can you—”
“Please!” interrupted Reggie. “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” His eyes glistened in the afternoon sunlight. “I’ve always vowed I
would
never wed, but it would be more honest to say I
can
never wed.”
“Do you have a secret wife tucked away?” Preposterous, but better than any other possibility.
“No.” Pain filled his voice. “I should have told you years ago, but it never—” He swallowed. “You deserve the truth before I leave. I cannot function as a husband should.”
“Oh, my God.” His knees buckled. Reggie was right. He should have sat down. “What are you saying?” he whispered hoarsely.
“It doesn’t work.”
“Doesn’t wo— You feel nothing?”
“I wish it were that simple. Unfortunately, the desire is there, but I can do nothing about it.”
“You have nev— But what about your mistresses?”
Reggie shrugged. “They have been aging courtesans, abused by previous protectors, who needed a safe place to recover and a friendly ear to listen to their problems. Most of them chose to retire to country cottages. I may take Pru with me – she has no family left and is fascinated by talk of foreign places.” He shook his head. “But that is irrelevant.”
“Are you sure the condition is permanent?” Fatigue and shock made their conversation seem unreal.
“Yes. It has never worked. I consulted the best doctors in Scotland some years ago – anonymously. They’ve no idea why, but all agreed the problem is unlikely to disappear.”
“Yet you said nothing.”
“How could I?” His eyes revealed unimaginable torment. “Have you any idea how hard it is to confess I’m only half a man?”
“I don’t consider you so.”
“I do.” His raised hand halted further protest. “Living with deceit is no longer possible. I cannot remain in England, for life will become intolerable once Father dies. Since I am not cut out to be a hermit, my only chance for a comfortable existence is to adopt a new name and build a life in another country – probably America.”
“You sound so calm. I can barely think.”
“I have been planning it long enough. This day was bound to come.”
“At least remain until Father’s death.” Tears stung his eyes.
“No.” His voice hardened. “You do not understand, Sedge. Father and I have fought for years. Bitterly. Last night’s argument was the last straw. I no longer care whether he lives or dies. Nor do I care what Mother wants or what Society thinks. I would leave tomorrow if there were not loose ends I must tie up. My solicitor is drawing up papers that will give you control of my affairs, including everything to do with the marquessate. I would give you the title if I could. The fortune I already control should be sufficient to cover my needs, so everything else will be yours. And I must say good-bye to Joanna.”
“I see. There does not seem to be anything else to say. But please stay in touch.” This time, his tears spilled over.
“Don’t,” begged Reggie.
“I can’t help it.”
“You must. I cannot afford to collapse yet. In fact, Mother’s latest start means I must leave sooner than I’d planned. Lady Dorothy’s reputation might be salvaged if I am gone before she arrives. Meet me at my solicitor’s at ten in the morning.”
“Very well. But I expect to hear from you.”
He sighed. “If you insist. I will travel for a year or two before settling down to become an eccentric. But I will write.”
Downing the last of his wine, Reggie straightened his shoulders and left.
Sedge poured himself another drink. Back-to-back confrontations had left him feeling limp.
Cannot function as a husband.
Poor Reggie. He could not imagine a worse hell than feeling desire he could not satisfy. No wonder Reggie refused to wed. How could he put any woman through that? A lady’s primary duty was to provide an heir. Failure was always laid at her feet. And Reggie risked becoming an object of ridicule if Society learned the truth.
But dwelling on Reggie’s problems served no purpose. His own pressed heavily on his shoulders. His life was changing in ways he had never expected. He must make peace with Joanna and build a real marriage with her, inform his parents that Reggie would not return, take up the burden of the marquessate…
He shuddered.
He knew little of the Glendale affairs, for he had never expected to deal with them. Nor did Reggie, for that matter. Their father had been loath to involve his heir in estate matters, lest doing so reduce his own power.
Reggie was right about their mother. Unless he moved her out of the Close the moment she became a widow, she would cling to her position, refusing to believe that Reggie was gone forever. Whether he moved into the Close himself would depend on where she lived. He would not subject Joanna to her spite.
But that was for the future. He needed to talk to Joanna. If Reggie was right – and he prayed his impressions were correct – then he had wronged her yet again. She did not love Reggie. In any case, she must know the truth, for Reggie’s departure would affect both of them.
Dear God, he hoped Reggie was right. He needed her. She was the only rock left in his turbulent world.
But he could not find her. When he reached her room, he spotted a letter on her dressing table. A letter addressed to him.
I cannot cause a breach between you and your family, she had written in a hand that visibly shook. Nor can I inflict further damage to your reputation. Marriage was a mistake, as you must know. I regret allowing you to press me, for I knew that you did not want so low a connection. Even your vast credit cannot force the dowagers to accept me. Persisting can only hurt you. My training did not prepare me for entering your world, as events have proved. With your family’s connections, there should be no problem getting an annulment. Perhaps one day you will find someone you can care for.
His glass shattered on the floor as the realization hit him. She had heard part of his mother’s tirade, though she must have fled before his own response – not that she would have believed it. His mother’s insinuations threaded every word of this note.
This third shock left him teetering on the brink of total collapse. How much could a man take in one day?
Shaking his head, he read the note a second time. Why should he be surprised at her regret? He had made little effort to hide his anger before leaving town. He had left her to his mother’s vicious tongue. And they had had no chance to talk since his return.
He groaned. He had treated her badly. Even his anger was not her fault. In retrospect, he had been using her love for Reggie as an excuse to vent fury over his own carelessness.
She had been blameless.
The admission hurt. He had ignored her objections to marriage, believing they were an attempt to present a demure image. But she had been serious. She did not want him.
Yet he did want her, he admitted as he left her room. She was intelligent, caring, and altogether delightful. In fact, she possessed nearly every virtue of that ideal wife he had envisioned finding. But he had been too stubborn to admit it. What an ass he was. Something about her had attracted him from the first, though his conceit had balked at the idea. Perhaps his carelessness had been less inadvertent than he’d thought.
He had to find her. They needed to talk with no misconceptions to cloud their thinking. Where might she have gone?
A moment’s thought dismissed Wicksfield House. No matter how grateful Harriet was feeling, Lady Wicksfield would not welcome her. Would she seek Lady Hartford’s help?
He frowned. They had formed a fast friendship in recent days, though he doubted she would risk seeking out one of his friends.
But he suddenly knew where she was. While protesting against marriage, she had mentioned her mother’s burdens. She had gone home to the vicarage.
Damn! He did not know where her father lived. Wasting no time on summoning a servant, he headed for the stables.
“I need help,” he admitted when he reached Reggie’s rooms.
He glared. “Is this some misguided attempt to keep me here?”
“Devil take it!” He inhaled to curb his temper. “No. Joanna overheard Mother’s tirade and bolted.” He handed over the letter. “I think she’s headed home.”
Reggie’s eyes blazed by the time he finished reading. “What the devil did you do to her?”
“Dumped my fury and resentment on her innocent shoulders, then left her to Mother’s vicious tongue,” he admitted. “You can curse me some other time. Right now, I need to find her. Where is her father’s living?”
Reggie stared a long moment. “Gloucestershire.”
“Could you be more specific?” He drew in a deep breath. “I admit I never asked a word about her family. But you are right,” he added. “She is a jewel.”
Reggie examined his face, then smiled. “Her father lives near Cavuscul Hill. But she is probably taking the mail, which doesn’t leave until six.” He pulled out a pocket watch. “If you hurry, you can catch her at the Swan With Two Necks. We can postpone our own meeting until two.” His smile broadened into a grin.
* * * *
Joanna fought her impatience as men loaded luggage onto the mail coach. The marquess’s illness had disrupted the household so much that Sedge might not know she was gone. Yet she would not relax until she was away from London. He would feel honor-bound to stop her, but with luck, he would not follow her until Glendale’s health improved. She would remain at home for only a single night. Once he admitted that she was serious, he would annul their marriage and get on with his life.
She sighed. It might be better to disappear directly, but she had to explain to her parents. Papa might be shocked, but he would understand. And he might even know where she could go.
The call finally came to board. Pulling her cloak tighter, she headed across the stable yard. The inside seats had been claimed before her arrival, so she must endure an outside perch. At least it wasn’t raining.
“Joanna!”
Her heart leaped as she spied the figure jumping down from a familiar phaeton, but she immediately quelled its pleasure. “Go home, Sedge. Honor has led you too far astray already.”
He flinched. “Joanna, we must talk. Please? I will never hold you against your will. If we cannot come to an understanding, I will provide transportation to wherever you wish to go. But at least hear me out.”
He was more tense than ever, but the quality had changed almost to fear, though that seem absurd. Unless his father was worse.
“How is Glendale?”
“Awake. Incapable of speech or much movement. Dying.”
“You should not have left him.”
He glared. “You are far more important than he is. Even if we return to find him dead, I will not regret following you.”
“Can’t you let go of your pride long enough to admit the truth?” she demanded.
“What the devil is that supposed to mean?”
“Marrying me was less a matter of honor than of your overweening conceit. London’s premier dandy would never tarnish even the lowliest female. Never mind that we were strangers who had no interest in marriage. Never mind that you disliked me even before that night. You care for nothing beyond appearances. Why else are you here?”
He clenched his teeth. A coach clattered into the yard, splashing him with a sloppy mixture of manure and horse urine. “I never disliked you, Joanna. Distrusted you, perhaps, though that did not survive the masquerade. I was angry even before you arrived that night, and I was furious at my own stupidity, but none of it was aimed at you.”
“So you admit that marriage was a stupid idea.”
“Never. It was right then, and it is right now. The stupidity was placing you in a compromising position and thus drawing Society’s censure onto your head. Please forgive me for not making that clear earlier. I wronged you in many ways, Joanna, not least of which was using you as a target for my irritation over other things. But I want to make a fresh start. Perhaps something good can come out of this day. God knows everything else is collapsing.”
“Give ’im a chance, miss!” shouted a groom.
“’E’s jes tryin’ to turn ye up sweet,” warned a maid. “All the fancy coves lie. Don’t let no purty words turn yer ’ead.”
Joanna flinched, but Sedge seemed oblivious to their growing audience. His eyes were anxious, but blue. He radiated tension, but not antagonism. She shrugged. “Very well. We will talk.”
Two grooms broke into a cheer as the guard tossed down her bandbox. Sedge lifted her across a mudhole, holding her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe. His cheek brushed her forehead in what might have been a caress. By the time he placed her in his phaeton, the mail coach was gone.
Gathering up the ribbons, he headed for Mayfair.
She stared at his profile, trying to decide what he really wanted and why. Huge circles rimmed his eyes, reminding her that he had been up since dawn yesterday. Lines around his mouth added a grimness to his countenance that she had never seen. But his first words caught her by surprise.
“You overheard Mother, didn’t you?” He stared at her, ignoring a flurry of curses when his team nearly ran down a sailor.
“Not deliberately. I despise eavesdroppers.”
“Too bad. If you had remained longer, you would have discovered that neither Reggie nor I agreed with her tirade.”