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If she found his love repugnant, he’d simply have to learn to live without his heart, for it would remain with her no matter how far away he went. Such would be the penance for his selfish act, for having robbed her of the life she would have had with someone more deserving.
Chapter Nineteen
Pacing the familiar length of the salon, Sorin was more nervous than he had ever been in his life. He’d tiptoed out at dawn to walk the short distance to Charles’s house, something he hadn’t done since before his days at university. But he had needed to get out before Mother awakened—before she could hear of his disgraceful conduct last night and panic over the unfolding disaster. He would explain everything to her later, after it was done.
“My apologies for keeping you waiting. I came as soon as I could get away,” said Charles, coming in. “What brings you here so early? Has Yarborough been arrested?”
He’d forgotten all about that, actually. “It should be happening as we speak, but my visit is
not about that.” His gut tightened at the perplexed look on his friend’s face. “I can see the gossip has not yet reached you. I’m glad. I wanted to tell you myself.”
“Tell me what?” Charles shook his head. “What gossip? Bloody hell!” he exclaimed as he came closer. “What happened to your face?”
Sorin put a hand to his sore, purpling jaw. “It’s nothing. Charles, I’ve done something that I fear will have significant consequences for all of us.” He took a deep breath. “Last night while Marston and I were at the club, Yarborough came in and began speaking ill of Eleanor to his fellows. I’m afraid I quite lost my temper.”
Charles frowned. “I don’t…” Comprehension dawned across his features. “You hit him.”
Though he tried to dredge up a modicum of remorse for his actions, Sorin couldn’t fool himself and wouldn’t attempt to fool his best friend. “I laid him out on the floor in front of nearly a dozen witnesses,” he said unabashedly. “I challenged him, but the coward refused to face me. He offered a full apology for the insult. I accepted. It’s done.”
Quick as lightning, his friend’s bewilderment turned to anger. “The man is going to prison this morning!” he spluttered. “Could you not have held your peace for one bloody night? No one would have believed him! But now—you should have walked away and let him be!”
The very idea made Sorin’s blood hot all over again. “To do so would have been to let his lies go unchallenged and let everyone think I cared nothing for her honor!”
“Her honor was not yours to defend!” snapped Charles, his face reddening. “But now everyone will assume otherwise!”
“Believe me, I know what a bloody mess this makes of things, Charles!” He lowered his voice. “Which is why I’ve come to ask for her hand. At least as my wife, Eleanor will be safe from the storm that is about to break.”
“A storm of your making!” accused his friend, jabbing an angry finger at him. “None of this would be happening had you simply kept to the plan. Your plan!”
“I’m keenly aware that the fault is mine, and I will do everything I can to minimize the damage,” Sorin vowed. “A marriage will help. We are, after all, already well-associated in Society’s eyes.”
“If she’ll agree to it,” said Charles, clearly doubtful.
“She must. And for more reason than just her reputation.” He stood before his closest friend and steeled himself. It was time. “I’d hoped to woo her slowly over the course of the Season, but now everything has gone wrong and there is simply no more time.”
“Woo her? What the devil do you mean, ‘woo her’?” Charles’s wroth expression transformed to one of profound shock. “Are y—are you in love with Eleanor?”
Sorin forced himself to meet his eyes. “I’ve tried to deny my feelings for her, but my efforts have proven ineffectual. I did everything in my power to stop it, Charles. I even left England. At the time, travel was a welcome escape from the torment of watching her succumb, as I thought she surely must, to some other man’s charm. But year after year I waited for the news that never came, until I finally had no choice but to return.”
“Upon my word,” whispered Charles with wide eyes. “I think I need a brandy.” Rising, he went to the decanter and poured out a glass. He downed it, and then poured himself another. Lifting the decanter, he offered his guest a glass.
“Thank you, but no,” Sorin responded, feeling slightly queasy. “I had enough last night to have lost my taste for it today.”
Charles came and sat back down. “Why the devil did you not say something before now?”
“I did not wish to put a strain on our friendship, especially after you entrusted me to act as her chaperone.” A trust which he’d broken in the most flagrant manner possible.
A frown again creased Charles’s brow. “Though I admit to being displeased by the deception, I understand why you felt it necessary. But surely you must know I would not have objected to your suit. Eleanor could ask for no better match, in my opinion.”
“That is exactly what I told him,” said Rowena, entering the room.
“You knew of this?” said Charles with unconcealed hurt.
She entered and closed the door behind her. “I began to suspect it during our journey to London, but I learned the truth of it only a short time ago.”
“And yet you shared neither your suspicion nor its confirmation with me,” her husband said grimly.
“Don’t blame her,” Sorin told him. “I made her promise not to tell anyone, including you. I felt it only right that I should be the one to inform you of my intent. As to why I waited to do so, I could not risk Eleanor learning of my true sentiments prematurely.”
