Absolute Surrender Page 10

  There was a gentle sweep at her temple, and she opened her eyes to find Louisa there, rubbing circles into her back, sweeping her hair from her face. She sat up and held the girl. Took her into a tight embrace and held on as though this embrace was all that held her to the earth.

  “Hush now, sweet girl. I’ve got you. You’re safe. No need to fret.”

  “Louisa, I…I don’t understand what’s happening. I feel so terribly frightened about what’s to come of me.”

  Louisa nodded against her, Amelia felt her squeeze tighter, then release her and take her hands. She was too afraid to open her eyes just yet.

  “Listen to me, my lady, you are one of the most incredible souls I’ve ever met. And there’s a place for you. We just have to figure out where that is. Whether with Lord Endsleigh or the Castleberry. You’ve a place. Perhaps it’s with neither. I’m here. I’ll help you. Whatever you need of me, I’m here. We’ll see to this together. I promise you.”

  Amelia nodded and looked at her then. “When you say things like this, I can’t help but believe you. I’d be lost without you.”

  “But you’re not lost.”

  Wasn’t she? She twisted her hands in the sheets. “Louisa, I need to get out of the house tonight.”

  “Oh, miss, I’m not sure this is an idea worth our attentions.”

  Amelia pushed her away and stood. “Quit being polite. Of course it’s a bloody stupid idea. But bloody stupid be damned, I need to see him.”

  “Which him?” Louisa asked quietly.

  Amelia stopped suddenly, then smiled.

  Charles had quit Pembroke House as quickly as possible. He went straight to the Iron Duke taproom, desperately in need of a pint and some time to think through everything that had happened. Now he was off to see Ender, hoping, possibly beyond hope, that he was there. When it was announced that he was in, Charles took it as a good sign—after all, he could easily have been placed on Ender’s disallowed list. Charles was led to the library, but Ender wasn’t waiting for him. The door closed stoutly behind him, somewhat like a final bell.

  He moved about the library, reading the few titles on the mostly barren shelves, wondering if the man read them or simply kept them from some previous owner. The library was a chaotic assemblage of volumes, novels, and periodicals. He pulled a well-worn copy from a particularly full shelf: PUNCH, it read in large lettering across the top of the cover. A periodical known for humor, both literary and visual. He nodded and riffled through the issue before hearing the footsteps approach. He replaced the periodical carefully on the shelf, moving to a chair in front of a large desk.

  It was an all-too-familiar position, and Charles believed, once again, that he was asking permission for something he really shouldn’t ought to be asking permission for. The door opened.

  “So soon, Jackson? I was expecting—”

  Charles stood. “I witnessed an episode. I’m at a complete loss. I understand now that I may be in entirely above my head.” Well, that was putting it all out there.

  “When?” Ender had stopped moving when Charles spoke, as though there was no moving forward until he had all the information.

  “Today, after the outing to the park. I fear I may have been at fault. I may have—”

  Ender moved closer. “Explain,” he ground out.

  Charles did, quickly and quite thoroughly, and swallowing much pride in the act of it. He even explained the reticule. He did not, however, go so far as to speak in detail of his advance in the parlor.

  “So you tossed her reticule in the pond,” Ender said finally as he moved forward, apparently appeased that immediate action on his part was unnecessary.

  “Much like a javelin,” Charles said.

  Ender laughed. “It’s not you. It’s her. Quite honestly. Well, mostly. Though, to be sure, if you had the skills to help her, the episode would not have been…well, was it bad?” He turned toward him, and Charles could see the concern. Could almost feel that concern as a palpable force.

  “When I saw her on the floor, her mother—yes, in my estimation, yes, the episode was bad. But I have no basis for comparison, as you must have. It occurs to me the reason I was often turned away was to keep me from being witness to this. You…were not.”

  “Of course not, because her mother didn’t want to take the time to discern what Amelia needed, and I happened to be available. I was pushed into the position and then…well, there was only me. You were sent away to protect her future. I’m sure that’s not what you wish to hear, but that’s the truth of it. Amelia’s position with you was to be protected at all cost.”

  Ender motioned to the chair, and Charles took his seat. Ender sat in the chair next to him, instead of across the great hulking ship of a desk. “I assume she is well now, since you’re here,” Ender said.

  “As best I know, yes. I removed her mother from the room. Her maid—she seemed to be helpful.” Charles had liked her maid and wondered then if she would be allowed to move with Amelia to his household. He was sure Amelia would appreciate that.

  “Louisa? Yes, she is. I chose her for the position once I realized how alone Amelia would be when I left for school. Louisa wasn’t born to service, and she’s quite intelligent. When we met, she’d needed a friend and somewhere to go. I believed her personality was one that would suit because Louisa was protective and delicate. She needed protection herself and a place to live.” Ender paused as he seemed to asses Charles. “You did well to remove Amelia’s mother. The woman does naught but make Amelia’s condition worse for her. As you seem to have recognized.”

  Charles nodded, remembering the scene. It had been difficult to watch—he’d never felt so helpless—but he’d no basis to intrude, or interfere, or help. He believed himself as much to blame as he wished to help her. So he’d retreated.

  Charles thought for a second, considering his next words carefully.

  “You should know I entered into an agreement with her father. This is quite possibly the only reason I’ll not be barred from the household should I return. I’ve a feeling her father knows more than he allows about her…episodes? Is that what you call it? Her mother seemed to want to keep information from him.”

  Ender nodded but seemed lost in thought even as he appeared to take the news of his official suit in stride. “But she was well when you left her?” His face was tense.

  Charles knew Ender felt a great deal of sadness, possibly helplessness, and he found this a disturbing kinship with the man. Was it enough that Charles could leave her to him and not look back? Just the thought shook him to the core.

  “I suppose as well as could be expected, considering the circumstances.” Charles paused and took stock of his adversary, such as he was. “Endsleigh.”

  “Castleberry.” The man returned the regard, then attempted a grin. “Ender is sufficient. I’ve a notion we’ll become much more familiar in the near future.”

  Charles narrowed his eyes. “Will we?”

  Ender paused, then nodded. “If this is to work, we’re to become very close indeed. For in truth, the things you need to learn can’t be explained. They can only be shown. If you want this, if she’s prepared for this, this is how it should be done.”

  “Truly? I’m not sure either of us is prepared for what lies before us. I have so many concerns,” Charles said. He tried to list the concerns in his mind, but they were such a jumble, he could not find the beginning, nor the end of them.

  “Understandable, as do I. And yet, for Amelia…you see, I simply would do anything. Tell me of your concerns. Let us see if we can alleviate at least some of them,” Ender said.

  Charles thought for another moment, then decided to tackle the one concern that was foremost in his mind. “My immediate concern is you,” he said carefully.

  “I understand…please believe me when I say that I also want to spend as little time in this situation as possible. I wish to be done with it. With all of it,” Ender said stiffly. “I… If we are to work together, I imagine
that will require a measure of trust. Though we’ve never been more than acquaintances, I’ll trust you at your word, and hope that you’ll trust me. I will do nothing to undermine what trust we build.”

  Charles waited a moment. He didn’t want to like this man, the boy who had teased him mercilessly. “Do you truly wish to be done with it? Because Amelia led me to believe that that was not at all your intention this morning.”

  Ender nodded. “This morning it was not. In fact, I’m still unsure of my intentions, other than to see that my Amelia is safe and well cared-for.” He held Charles’s gaze. Quite an unspoken challenge, that.

  “And something has changed that you allow me to attempt this?” Charles asked carefully.

  “Yes, quite drastically, in fact. For one—” Ender paused and looked Charles in the eye. “You threw her reticule in the pond.”

  Charles was quite tired of discussing the reticule and was believing that action to be a grave error. Until Ender continued.

  “You gained a measure of trust there.”

  Charles stalled. “Did I?” But that had been such a silly maneuver. So ridiculous, really. “I believe it was an action taken out of desperation. I’d no idea what to do, and she gave me a tangible foe. I simply…removed it.” Charles hadn’t thought much of his actions at the pond, beyond the fact that throwing her reticule had drawn out that laughter that had haunted him for so many years.

  “Slayed the dragon, did you, Saint George?” Ender replied with a wicked half-grin.

  “I suppose, of a fashion. Though her reticule seems to pale in comparison to her mother, as far as dragons go.”

  Ender laughed at this. “I believe you just may understand. You’ve met the desperate feeling with which I’ve come to be so familiar.”

  “Desperate?” Charles considered this. “I suppose it is, of a fashion. For at the moment we both want desperately to help Amelia, and thus…well, here we are.” Throwing reticules into ponds was left unspoken. He may have been convinced that this man was not at all bad.

  Damn.

  Ender wagged a finger toward him. “Yet she’ll not have us out of desperation. She is…she’s quite true to herself, and her feelings. I cannot express enough how strongly her soul plays into this. She’s not one for games. She’s not one for lies. She’ll know, beyond doubt, if one of us is false. She has a keen sense of justice, ethics. In fact, she does know, beyond doubt, that I’m not false. It’s merely you that has to be proven.”

  Charles leaned back at that, seemed to take stock of Ender for a moment as he considered the words. “And you? What do you believe? Do you believe my intentions to be false? Uncaring? Filtered somehow?” Charles asked, attempting to hide his annoyance at being labeled shallow.

  “I know not. At this point, I only know the situation on its face.” Ender held up a hand. Apparently, Charles hadn’t hid his annoyance enough. “She cannot marry me, but she can marry you. Her father disallowed me years ago. It’s the reason we were so close…in part. Because there was none of that allowed between us. It’s so much more difficult when there’s another level of threatened intimacy between a man and woman,” Ender said quietly.

  Charles nodded. “And this intimacy you speak of…is that what frightens her?” He thought back to her response in the carriage, then the parlor. She’d seemed frightened at first, but he knew when she’d relaxed. He could feel her supplication. She’d responded to him, and that response had been truly lovely. “Is that what keeps her from trusting me? Because I am happy to—”

  Ender let out a great peal of laughter then, cutting Charles off. “Happy to…what? Remove sex from the equation? We all know that isn’t possible, as you’re required an heir. Or am I now mistaking the requirements of your duties to Her Royal Highness?”

  Charles shook his head. “No, there are certain requirements, certain expectations, the begetting of heirs being one of them. I meant only to belay the action of it…should that be necessary.” He cringed. That was an untruth. He wasn’t sure he could keep himself from her, considering the feel of her against him. He believed they could be well suited in bed. It was the rest of their life together that concerned him.

  Charles rubbed his temples with one hand stretched across his eyes. Tried to hide his reaction to the realization that he wanted her so baldly.

  “And for how long? I’m a man, as you are, and then what? Because I know Amelia would come to believe you are satisfying those urges outside the marriage bed, if not with her. And do you realize? This is possibly one of the reasons she’s terrified.”

  “And what of the duchy? I need to know she can manage it, not merely for me, but for her sake. I do not want to put her in a position that would hurt her. As much as I wish for her to be my duchess, I also wish for her to be comfortable. In your estimation, with whatever it is that she has to deal with on a daily basis, can she handle the management of a duchy? The societal requirements of it?”

  “I wholeheartedly believe she can, if she knows that whomever she is with will support her without fail, no matter what were to happen. Yes, if she has your unwavering support and trust, yes, she can manage a duchy—and quite brilliantly at that, for sure.

  “That being said, at the moment our Amelia is in a situation quite beyond her control, and this”—Ender motioned between the two of them—“in and of itself is enough to cut her tethers, but that there is so much more here…Amelia’s mind is very much at the brink of complete and total destruction because of the situation. There’s so much pressure on her. I know her as I know myself, and though I don’t wish to pursue this, for her sake, I will. I understand that she thinks…overthinks every situation to the detriment of her health, and therein lies your conundrum. You cannot be responsible for this, because in her mind…I will be hurt. This is something that must be dealt with. But for you to tell her that I am not hurt will not suffice. She’s much too smart for that. This fact must come from me.”

  “And are you…hurt?” Charles asked quietly, dropping his hand to rest on his thigh.

  “Am I? That has yet to be determined, I suppose. At the moment, I’m undecided.”

  “As you are undecided in other areas.” This time, pursuing the woman promised me was left unspoken.

  “My suit, you mean? Well, that was decided long ago. It’s only wrapping it through my brain that must be done. You see, the heart wants what the heart wants. Getting it to believe otherwise is the difficult task.”

  “How easily you speak of hearts,” Charles said quietly. Men tended to shy from speak of hearts, love, anything of softness and lacking an edge. Not this man. It was unexpected. Charles had assumed him much colder, more distant.

  Ender grinned as if he knew he’d just shattered a misplaced opinion.

  Charles continued, “And how can I ask you to help me, if you are here for you?”

  “Oh, but you misunderstand. I’m here for Amelia. I always have been. That’s the simple truth of it. My bearing on the matter is inconsequential to me, and therein lies another catch. As inconsequential as this is to me, it’s not to Amelia.”

  “Were it that simple,” Charles said.

  “Does this all sound simple to you? I wish you would explain it to me then, for I’m having difficulty understanding why it is I’m here. This morning I went to break with her, but found I simply could not. Then to see you…very well played, sir, I might add. Had you called me out this morning, I would have been none too happy to fight your suit. But as it happens, between that and the reticule, you’ve now shown me a genuineness of character I find I quite like for my Amelia. In truth…I believe you.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Charles said distractedly. He bounced a fist on his thigh, debating whether to truly be honest with Ender, or hold back his—possibly misguided—intentions.

  Ender studied him. “Meaning?”

  “Upon leaving Pembroke House, I was determined…to pursue…what was best for Amelia. Whether that be my suit or yours.” Charles watched from the corner of h
is eye as Ender’s jaw dropped.

  “You can’t be serious,” Ender said finally.

  “Quite, in fact. The thing of it is…I have that specific duty to the crown, as do you. But in my determination today, I found my concern for Amelia far outweighs my…want of her. Though ‘want’ seems a tawdry and unacceptable description for what I have, mind you. I do want her, in every way. But if the duties of duchess are more than she can take on, I would wish to see her happy…with you. A baroness is no simple chore, either, but not so much as a duchess—as my duchess. The expectations of such are…”

  “Extensive.”

  “Quite. So, you see, I cannot make this decision for her, not by measure. She has to be ready, prepared, able to perform the duties to the crown required of her. After today, I’m not sure these are duties she’s interested in taking on.” Charles paused, working up to what he decided he must say next, and when he did, he spoke so quietly, he wasn’t sure the air before him could even hear it. “I’m not sure these are duties she’s capable of taking on, even though you say she is. Though I wish it. I do. I want for it.”

  Silence.

  “So where do we go from here?” Charles asked quietly.

  “I…am unsure. We must determine that Amelia is truly up to the challenge of a duchy, I suppose.”

  “That seems unfair, that we should be the ones to determine it. She wants this. That should be enough,” Charles said determinedly.

  “But it isn’t. No offense to you, but she has quite a bit of pressure from her mother to pursue your suit. She may not be seeing what will be required of her…after.”

  “So my suit comes down to the technical of the position. How perfectly terrific.” Charles leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He let his head drop into his hands, his fingers sinking into his hair, pulling, requiring some tangible source of feeling.

  “I sincerely hope not. You and I, we’ll work together. We’ll determine what’s best for her, where she’ll be safe, cared for…loved.” He said this last bit as though it wasn’t a possibility. That rankled a bit.