Tom returned to Corbin House to find it bustling. Two carts were parked in the courtyard with footman hurriedly unloading crates. The staff had no warning to expect the family’s arrival, and Mrs. Robbins was clearly overcompensating. She’d ordered enough food to feed an army.
Entering through a side door, Tom was nearly bowled over by a delivery boy.
“Easy there, lad,” Tom grunted, stumbling out of the way.
“Sorry, sir!” the boy called, not slowing his steps.
Two more servants swept past him, cleaning buckets on their arms. Down the long hallway, the housekeeper emerged, trailing a maid behind her.
“Ah—Mrs. Robbins!” Tom called. “Where is Miss Harrow?”
The housekeeper’s smile was warm and inviting. “Bless my eyes, is that you Mr. Renley? My, how handsome you look in your officer’s uniform.”
“Yes. I—”
“Renley!”
Tom turned to see James striding towards them.
“When did you arrive? Is Burke with you?”
“I just got in,” Tom replied, looking around at all the scurrying servants. “Where are they?”
James gave a look to Mrs. Robbins, dismissing her. She bobbed a quick curtsy and took off. “They’re not here,” he replied, voice low. “I arrived home to find Mrs. Robbins in a state.”
“A state?” Tom didn’t like the sound of that.
“Aye, apparently Burke barged into the morning room while Rosalie was being fitted for gowns and demanded to see her alone. Then they up and left.”
Tom’s gut twisted. He was too late. “Where did they go? Are they—they’re coming back, right?”
“The footman said they were going to Cheapside,” James replied.
That gave Tom some relief. “Her aunt lives in Cheapside. They must have gone to visit her.”
“Where have you been?” James repeated.
Tom tugged off his hat and tucked it under his arm. “I was seeing Marianne home and—”
A side door burst open and a trio of men staggered through balancing a heavy rolled carpet between them.
“’Scuse us, m’lord,” the front man muttered as they passed.
James sighed. “Come to my study. If we talk here, we’ll likely be run over.” He led the way down the hall to his study.
Tom glanced around as he entered. The dark blue walls were lined with cases of leather-bound books. The curtains were tied back, letting a shaft of late afternoon sun slant over the large desk. James sat behind it, reaching for a decanter and two glasses. He poured a measure of port into each glass and slid one across the desk at Tom. “Go ahead and say it.”
Tom sat, snatching up the offered glass. “You shouldn’t have taken off like that. Do you have any idea the storm you’ve left in your wake?”
“How bad is it?” James muttered, eyes focused on his glass.
“I believe the word ‘pincers’ were used…”
James grimaced. “And Miss Harrow?”
“General sentiment was that you must have kidnapped her. The Swindon sisters thought it appropriate to act it out last night to everyone’s general amusement.”
“Bloody perfect,” James muttered.
“The focus is on you at the moment…not her.”
“Thank god for that.” James drained his glass. “The story is that we are planning a surprise engagement party for George and Miss Nash. We’ll celebrate here with a large party on Friday. The whole ton is to be invited.”
“Ah…that explains the chaos,” Tom said, taking another sip of his port. “James…why did you do it?”
James sighed. “I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“And now?”
“Now?” He refilled his glass. “Now I am so goddamn tired I can barely see straight. And there is still Burke to deal with.”
“I take it you haven’t seen him yet?”
“No…they were gone by the time I returned.” He glanced up, meeting Tom’s eye. “How mad is he?”
Tom let out a slow breath. “On a scale from one to ten…I’d say a solid eight.”
“Damn…is that an eight like when I broke the ladder to the treehouse? Or an eight like when I promised him that new horse and kept it for myself?”
“He’s out for blood, J,” Tom admitted.
“I guess I deserve it.”
He sounded so dejected that Tom felt his own resentment fizzling away. His thoughts turned to Rosalie. “Is she alright?”
James nodded. “She will be.” He glanced up. “But I’m glad I caught you. We need to talk…”
Tom stiffened. “Is it my turn for an admonishment?”
“No admonishments,” James replied calmly. “I’m not your father or your confessor that you need a lesson in morals from me…But I do feel obligated to ask about your intentions. Do you mean to compete with Burke to win her?”
“Win her?” Tom couldn’t help but laugh. “This is not a race, James, and she is not a trophy. Besides, she doesn’t want to get married.”
“What lady of sense does not eventually succumb to marriage?”
“Succumb? That’s quite a romantic word for it.”
James took another sip from his glass. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I’m not sure that I do.” Tom leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “Are you to imply we shouldn’t trust her at her word?”
“Trust a young lady who thinks of marriage as nothing but a cage? Hardly,” he replied with a dry laugh. “Marriage is a sound opportunity for advancement. It is social security. It can be an advantageous partnership. Surely, all these are merits in its favor.”
“Yes…to you. But James, you are a viscount. In your social circle, marriage is a convenient means of solidifying titles and estates. Of course you would see it as a useful business transaction…but Rosalie doesn’t.”
“You buy her nonsense then of marriage being a cage? I thought all you Renleys were meant to be romantics.”
“I buy her ‘nonsense’ as you call it, because it is her lived experience,” Tom replied, struggling to contain his annoyance. “It is not nonsensical to a woman who has never seen anything but a bad marriage to assume that marriage has no redeemable qualities,” he explained. “I doubt very much that a rousing speech from you will change her mind…especially if you’re going to use words like ‘succumb’ in its defense.”
It was James’ turn to shift awkwardly, looking pointedly down at his glass.
Tom narrowed his eyes. “Oh, hell…you’ve already tried haven’t you?” He leaned further over the desk. “You gave her a James speech, didn’t you?”
James’ eyes flashed in indignation. “A James speech?”
“Aye, a declarative speech by James Corbin, whereby the listener feels wholly incapable of allowing any opinion to rest in the mind except the one James puts there. A James speech. You gave her one.” It wasn’t a question. Tom already knew the answer. “Well, how did it go?”
James was quiet for a long moment. “She yelled at me if you must know,” he muttered.
Tom laughed deep, crossing his arms over his chest.
“So where do you fall then?” James challenged. “No doubt you harbor romantic notions about marriage as a blessed union?”
He was quiet for a minute, considering all that had happened in the last days and weeks. “You know…I really thought I could do this,” he admitted. “I thought I could set my feelings aside and marry out of obligation. And I thought I would find peace with it because it was the right thing to do…”
“And now?”
“Now?” He sighed, stretching out his legs under the desk. “Now, I believe that to marry without love would break me. I cannot live in such a way—to have someone so close, so intimately woven into my life, and not feel a deep and abiding love for them…it won’t do. I am resolved to find more than a wife.”
“What the hell does that mean? What is more than a wife?” James stiffened. “Oh…please don’t tell me you’re taking a page out of George’s book and seeking two women—”
“No,” Tom said, raising a hand with a laugh. “I don’t—God, I don’t even…you know what I really want?”
James raised a brow as he brought his glass to his lips.
“I want a tree.”
James snorted. “You’ve lost me completely.”
Tom laughed again. “I think I’ve lost myself, but I’ve only just had the idea.” He mused for a moment. “Have you ever wandered through the forest and seen two trees growing together?”
“Of course,” James replied.
“Well…that’s what I want. I want to find someone who can grow with me, sharing in strength and purpose. I want roots buried deep. I want to be so entangled in another person that I don’t know where they end and I begin. I want—” He paused, taking in the look on James’ face. “I’m…not making any sense, am I?”
“It makes sense,” James replied. “But it also sounds bloody exhausting…all that twisting and bending and supporting of limbs.”
Both men laughed.
“I imagine that if I ever find the right person, it will feel as easy as breathing,” Tom replied.
James eyed him. “And…is Miss Harrow your tree?”
Tom groaned, snatching up his glass. “Christ, you’re relentless.”
“Answer the question.”
Another quiet moment stretched between them.
“She might be,” Tom admitted. “I’ve never felt this way about a woman, J. She is…she’s like a song I can’t get out of my head. But I can’t make her want the same things as me. And I’ll not try to change her. If she is meant to be in my life, she will have to be the one to make that choice.”
James’ frown softened. “So you don’t intend to pursue her then?”
Tom gave another exaggerated sigh. “You know, if lording ever loses its charms, you’d make an excellent hound. Always on the hunt—”
“Renley…”
“I have no intention of walking away,” he replied.
“You’re as bad as Burke,” James muttered. “He thinks he can have her without any question of marriage and no one will bat an eye. It’s madness.”
Tom just shrugged. “She’s her own person. Yes, she’s a lady. And yes, she’s a ward of this house, but she has every right to make her own choices. If she wants Burke on terms that are acceptable to him, who are we to stand in their way?”
“They’ll ruin each and you’re content to just sit back and watch?”
Tom huffed a laugh. “James, I’m going to tell you something my father used to love to say: ‘You can lead a horse to water, you can even make it drink…but you can’t lead a stubborn man anywhere.’”
James rolled his eyes again. “And I suppose I am the stubborn man?”
Tom got to his feet. “You are all the stubborn man,” he replied. “You, Burke, and Rosalie. You are perhaps three of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. And I will tell you this now, and pray you heed me: If they think they’re being managed, they will both dig their heels in and fight you every step of the way.”
James’ mouth tightened into a firm line. “You think I intend to meddle?”
Tom gave him a knowing look. “I love you, James. A better man surely does not exist…but I think you quite literally cannot help yourself. Not when it comes to Burke. He has always been your greatest weakness; the only knife worth twisting.” He drained his glass, setting it down with a clink.
“I can control myself, you know,” James challenged.
“I’m not the one you need to convince, J. Best say those words again in a mirror.”
James scowled.
“If you care for them, which I know you do, you’ll leave them to manage their own…affair,” he finished with a smile. At the sound of James’ frustrated groan, he snatched up his hat and slipped out of the room.
