“The wager?”
With a groan, Morgan cast his sister-in-law a long-suffering glance. “Really, Juliet, must we talk about that today? It’s so pleasant out and—”
“Don’t tell me he hasn’t told you about his wager,” Lady Juliet exclaimed. “Why, Morgan, that’s too awful of you!”
“Yes, Morgan,” Lord Ravenswood chimed in with a smirk. “You should have told her.”
“Well,
somebody
should tell me,” Clara put in. “My curiosity is thoroughly roused now.”
As Morgan sighed, Lady Juliet explained. “About eight months ago, Morgan claimed that I wouldn’t be able to tell him and Sebastian apart if they were both presented to me dressed exactly alike. I told him he was wrong, and we laid a little wager upon it.”
Clara shot Morgan a teasing glance. “Really, Captain Blakely, how could you even take such a wager? A wife not be able to tell her husband from her husband’s brother? It’s ludicrous.”
Morgan raised one brow. “I thought the identical twin thing would present an obstacle.”
Clara and Lady Juliet exchanged one of those men-are-so-stupid glances. Deciding that she liked Lady Juliet already, Clara smiled impishly at Morgan. “I could distinguish you from your brother, I assure you.”
“Could you really?” His eyes darkened to smoldering coals. “Even though I’m not yet your husband?”
The word
yet
hung in the air, and her mouth went dry. She really wished he wouldn’t say things like that. It made Lady Juliet look speculative and Lord Ravenswood frown. “That’s got…nothing to do with it. Anybody with good observational skills could tell the two of you apart.”
“I don’t know—I have trouble with it myself,” Lord Ravenswood said dryly.
Morgan smiled his wolfish smile, clearly pleased at her claim.
Juliet clapped her hands. “Oh, we should do the wager again! We can use the same terms. Then Morgan shall be forced to spend yet another year staying out of trouble.”
Morgan’s smile vanished at once. “Don’t even think it. I don’t trust you two. And I learned my lesson the last time.”
But Clara was more interested in Juliet’s comment than
all Morgan’s grousing. “What do you mean—he’d have to spend another year staying out of trouble?”
As Morgan glanced away, jaw tightening, Juliet said, “That was the agreement. When he lost the wager, he agreed not to leave England for a year and not to put himself into any danger.”
A slow smile spread over Clara’s lips. So
that
was why he was lying to his family about his activities in Spitalfields. Why, the little cheater!
When she glanced over to see that Lord Ravenswood had suddenly taken a great interest in straightening his gloves, her eyes narrowed. She knew exactly who’d put Morgan up to cheating on his wager, too. Both of them were scoundrels and sneaks, and they deserved to be put in their place.
“Tell me,” Clara remarked, “is Morgan so eager to put himself into danger that you can only keep him from it by a wager?”
“Oh, yes,” Lady Juliet answered, “Morgan is always throwing himself into the thick of things. Only last year he was nearly killed capturing a highwayman at Lord Ravenswood’s request. And before that, there were the pirates and the smugglers. Why, Sebastian used to worry about Morgan’s safety endlessly. Until the wager, that is.”
“I see,” Clara said. “Then I feel just awful, Lady Juliet.”
Morgan’s head shot up, and he glared a warning at Clara, but Lady Juliet merely asked, “How so?”
Clara smiled blithely at Morgan. “I’m sure it’s been terribly difficult for Captain Blakely to stay in Spitalfields under such circumstances. What with the fences and the rough men causing trouble, he’s probably wanted to break his wager a thousand times.” She flashed Lord Ravenswood a mischievous grin. “And you, his friend—how could you ask him for such a favor? Forcing him into a situation where trouble dogged him at every turn, yet he’s not allowed to act—”
“I figured he could handle it,” his lordship retorted. “Morgan has always known what’s most important in life.”
“You mean his duty to his family?” she asked with an arch smile.
“And his country.”
“Yes, but in this case his duty to his family conflicts with his duty to country.”
“Then it’s a good thing Morgan always makes the right choice, isn’t it?” Lord Ravenswood said, eyes glittering.
Her gaze locked with his, and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him exactly what she thought of his machinations. Especially when she knew how they’d affected Morgan.
Then Morgan said, “Ah, look, we’re here.” As if to give credence to his claim, the carriage jolted to a halt. “So that’s enough talk of Spitalfields. I want to eat.”
Lady Juliet laughed. “You always want to eat. I swear, Morgan, you have a stomach the size of a cavern.”
Morgan opened the door and climbed out. “Don’t tell Lady Clara, or she’ll know where all the Home’s food has been disappearing.”
Lord Templemore appeared to help Lady Juliet down, and Morgan stepped forward to provide Clara with the same service. But he didn’t release her hand right away. He merely used it to tug her close and whisper, “I’ll get you for that later, you teasing wench.”
“As long as you don’t put yourself into danger in the process,” she whispered back, “I don’t think it’s a problem.”
With a searching glance, he took her arm. “What my family doesn’t know can’t hurt them. I only want to protect them.”
“You have a funny way of doing that.”
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing more as they joined the others.
The next two hours passed more enjoyably than Clara
had expected. The pleasure garden had long ago ceased to be viable—the formal walks were overgrown, the stone fountain of Cupid riding a swan had been overtaken by lichens, thus giving the young God of Love a green beard, and the elegant bridges crossing the nearby Fleet River had not been kept up.
But the place held a ruinous charm that made strolling about it in the company of friends a soothing experience. Especially when Morgan accompanied her as closely as any courtier of old, holding her hand when nobody was looking, even stealing a kiss once behind a cherry tree in full bloom.
His unfailing attentions gave her second thoughts about her decision not to marry him. Was she being unfair to expect him to give up his chosen profession? Throughout the afternoon, she heard a great deal about his years in the navy, enough to show her he did have some stake in that life. If he’d wanted to captain a ship again so badly that he would break his wager to his family and risk his life in Spitalfields, then who was she to expect him to give it up?
Especially when his only alternative was a gentleman’s life, existing on the undoubtedly comfortable allowance his brother gave him. Though his family clearly wanted that for him, Morgan wouldn’t be content to live like that for long. He needed activity. Like her, he needed to feel useful. He had ambition, and the navy seemed the only avenue open to him.
He’d probably been too proud to admit it, but what options were left for a second son? Depending on his brother’s largesse or living on her income would chafe at him. No matter how little or how much he liked the sea, he probably saw it as his only chance for advancement.
Yet could she bear the life of a naval officer’s wife? How could she stand seeing him only from time to time? Yearning
for him while he threw himself into danger at every turn? How long would it be before she hated his absences, resented raising their children alone, tired of worrying about him constantly?
Then again, whenever he kissed her…
No, she must think this through rationally. She would regret any decision made solely on the basis of one night spent in his bed, no matter how glorious and thrilling that night had been.
“Juliet,” Morgan called out to his sister-in-law as they all strolled away from the river. “Don’t you think you’ve made me suffer long enough without sustenance? Are we ever going to eat?”
Lady Juliet laughed. “As a matter of fact, the servants are setting up our meal now, over there at the top of the hill. And there’s plenty enough even for you, I expect.”
“Thank God,” Morgan stated, tucking Clara’s hand more firmly in his elbow. “Come on, angel. Dinner is finally served.”
Dinner consisted of an astonishing array of viands, breads, and cheeses, all neatly spread upon blankets beneath the open sky. Wine and punch had been provided, as well as fruit and cold tarts. Clara hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she saw it all there.
She wasn’t the only one. The outdoor air had heightened their appetites, so they fell upon the food like ravenous hounds, sparing little energy for conversation.
But once the first edge of hunger had been blunted, Lady Juliet grew chatty again. From her seat beside her husband, she stretched out one dainty foot to poke Morgan in the knee. “You see what you’ll be missing if you sail away from us? I dare say you don’t eat this well aboard ship.”
Morgan laughed. “Why do you think I eat so much while I’m
not
aboard ship? I’m storing it up for the future.”
The tart Clara was eating suddenly tasted dry as dust. The mere thought of Morgan sailing away killed her appetite.
As if noticing Clara’s response, Lady Juliet turned to Lord Ravenswood, who was stretched out on the blanket with his eyes closed. “Can’t you do anything about this, sir? Must you always send him off to sea and away from his family?”
Lord Ravenswood cracked open one eye. “Don’t look at me. I’ve already offered him a lucrative position in the Home Office. It’s his for the taking whenever he wants it. Thus far he’s refused it. So I’ve done all I can to keep him here.”
Clara sucked in a breath, then cast Morgan a questioning look. Surely this could not be true. He would have said something, he would have told her…
But she could tell it was true by the way he stared down into his wineglass, not meeting her eyes.
So it wasn’t that he had no choice. It wasn’t that his pride would not allow him to live off her or his family. Oh, no. He would simply rather be anywhere than here with her.
Her meal rose in her gorge, and blood rushed to her head. She had to get away from him, from all of them, before she betrayed herself. Rising unsteadily to her feet, she forced a wan smile to her lips. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to find…is there a necessary on the grounds?”
Lady Juliet nodded and pointed down the hill. “Through the woods leading to the river. By that arbor we saw earlier.”
“Thank you,” she choked out, then charged off down the hill and into the trees.
How blind is that Man,
Who scorns the Advice
Of Friends, who intend
To make him more wise.
A Little pretty pocket-book,
John Newbery
M
organ knew in an instant what had made Clara so upset. He leaped to his feet and started after her. “I’ll go help her find the arbor.”
“Is something wrong?” Juliet called out.
He shook his head. “Just give me a few minutes alone with her, all right?” He wished Ravenswood had kept his damned mouth shut. Morgan would never forget the hurt that had spread over Clara’s face the moment Ravenswood spoke.
Morgan felt his brother watching him, probably sensing in his unerring way that Morgan was upset, but he ignored his twin to hurry off after her.
“Clara!” he called out when he caught sight of her ahead,
but that only made her break into a run. Cursing under his breath, he ran after her. He lost sight of her for a moment, but kept heading for the place Juliet had spoken of. He reached it just in time to see Clara dart through a curtain of honeysuckle and into the arbor. No doubt she thought to hide from him, assuming that he’d look for her in the necessary instead.
But she didn’t need the necessary—she was trying to escape him, and he wouldn’t let her. He’d worked too hard today to tear down her defenses only to watch her erect them against him once more.
Ducking beneath the honeysuckle, he found himself plunged instantly into a semidarkness barely penetrated by the late afternoon sun. Long ago this arbor had probably held only enough vines to trail prettily over its flimsy trellis structure, but time had thickened the honeysuckle until it choked out nearly all the light, creating a cave of fragrant flowers.
But not so dark a cave that he couldn’t see her. She sat hunched over on a stone bench beneath the overarching framework. Her face was turned away from him, and her shoulders moved convulsively.
She was crying, damn it. He’d made her cry.
“Clara—” he began.
“Go away,” she choked out, twisting her upper body away from him. “I…just need a moment alone, Morgan.”
He stepped nearer, feeling helpless in the wake of her obvious distress. “It’s not what you think.”
“You don’t know what I think.”
“I turned Ravenswood’s offer down long ago. But even if I hadn’t, I could never accept it. It would mean…” He groped for words that would make her understand.
“Staying here,” she finished for him. “It would mean staying here with me. Which of course you don’t wish to do.”
“No! I mean, I want to be with you but…confound it all, it has nothing to do with us.” Taking a seat beside her on the
bench, he laid his hand on her shoulder. When she shrugged it off, the bottom dropped out of his stomach. “I’m just not suitable for the sort of position he’s offering.”
She lifted her head to stare off across the arbor. “I told myself that you were too proud to take your brother’s money or mine. That you felt you had no choice but to go back to sea. I thought…” Her breath caught. “I thought you…truly meant it when you said you wanted to marry me—”
“
Bon Dieu
, I did!” He caught her by the shoulders, trying to make her look at him.
But she jerked free of his grasp and rose to step away. “No, you didn’t, or you wouldn’t throw aside the obvious solution to our problem. You wouldn’t wish to flee me the first chance you get.”
“It’s not you I’m fleeing.” He rose, too. “You don’t understand, angel. It’s not you.”
“Don’t try to tell me again that you miss the sea, because—”