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Chapter 19
Seeing Bridget was the last thing he needed right now. Their last kiss had left him dumbstruck, yearning for more, yet he knew that he needed to keep his distance from her. It was a most terrifying realization that the only person he wished to have by his side could never be there.
As if to spite him, she looked more ravishing today than ever before. He had charmed many women with his silver tongue, but once his eyes fell upon her, she left him speechless. All he could do was drink in the sight of her as Sarah spoke of their reason for finding themselves there on the same street as him. Bridhry was wearing a sapphire-blue silk gown with patterned details in lace that matched her pale complexion. Her body was curved beautifully in it, and he had to fight his every urge not to take her into his arms and shower her lips with kisses as he had done in the darkness of that evening.
He was horribly indifferent with both of them, and neither of them had deserved it. Yet, that was the only manner in which he could keep his distance from Bridget. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her in any way. He had promised Oliver that he would keep away from both his sisters, and it was a promise he intended to keep.
Half an hour later, he reached his home, and as soon as he had walked in through the door, Pembroke announced that his cousin had arrived ten minutes prior and was waiting for him in his study.
“Thank you, Pembroke,” Joseph nodded, heading straight for the study. He pushed the door open, catching Seth in the act of skimming through one of the books from his bookshelf. “I wasn’t expecting you today,” he said instead of a greeting.
Today was apparently a day for unexpected visits and meetings. Joseph was not particularly fond of surprises, especially if they were not of the pleasant kind. His childhood was devoid of pleasant surprises thanks to the efforts of his late father, and Joseph had grown into an adult who liked to plan every moment of his life. Surprises were too impulsive, too unrehearsed.
“Well, we haven’t spoken since the evening of your mother’s dinner party,” Seth clarified. “I wished to call upon you and see how you were doing.”
Joseph tilted his head as he gazed at his cousin. “I am quite all right, given everything. And yourself?”
“I would not say no to a glass of port or sherry,” Seth grinned as he placed the book back on the bookshelf then walked around Joseph’s writing desk and took a seat there.
In all honesty, Joseph himself would welcome a glass of hard liquor. Perhaps Seth’s visit was a blessing in disguise. Otherwise, if he were alone, who was to say whether he would not sit at that very same writing table and write Bridget a letter, explaining his arse-like behavior of today. This way, he was unable to do that.
Joseph walked over to his liquor cabinet and opened it. He glanced at the several crystal decanters filled with liquids of different color. He recognized the one he wanted then poured two glasses. One he offered to his cousin while the other remained in his own hand. A single dose of liquid courage.
“Have you seen Lady Bridget since the evening of the dinner party?” Seth did not beat around the bush. In a way, Joseph appreciated that.
“Yes, in fact,” Joseph affirmed, looking down at his glass. He could almost see his own, twisted reflection in it. “I saw her and her sister this morning.”
“But you said–”
“I know what I said,” Joseph retorted. He needed no reminders of his own decisions, whether or not they were erroneous. This particular one felt more wrong than any other decision he had ever made, yet he knew there was nothing he could do to change the way things were. “I have not changed my mind if that is what you have come to ask, yet again. I stumbled onto her in Oxford Street.”
“I just came to see if you need any help,” Seth explained. “You know you can count on me for anything, Joseph.”
Immediately, Joseph felt once again like an arse as if that one time was not enough. “I know,” he sighed, “and I do appreciate it. I just cannot seem to get her out of my mind still, and it’s making me moody and tense.”
“I suppose that stumbling onto her by accident isn’t very beneficial to your cause.”
“Not one bit,” Joseph replied, lifting his glass to his cousin then downing the contents in one gulp. “However, I am adamant at remaining true to my decision. Bridget deserves someone who will truly know how to cherish her, not someone like me, someone with a past that will haunt him for the rest of his life.”
“It will be all right,” Seth used the phrase that had been said a million times before, yet Joseph was certain that it was not correct even a single time.
“I’m certain it will,” Joseph lied back because it was the simplest way of ending this conversation. “Have you read about the explosion on Her Majesty’s shipSovereign?”
Joseph would rather talk about explosions than the storm that was still brewing inside his heart. For the explosions would be easily forgotten, giving way to other misfortunes while his misfortune was solely his own to mourn.
* * *
“Now, will you please tell me why you look as if you just saw someone drown a kitten?” Sarah asked once the two sisters had returned from their hat shopping and found both solace and privacy in the drawing room of their home.
Bridget knew that she could speak freely, for Oliver had gone off hunting while their parents were visiting Lord and Lady Claremont and were not expected to return until that evening. The house was a set of pleasantly solitary walls, and Bridget welcomed the sensation.
“Your similes can be quite black, dear Sarah,” Bridget noticed.
“Usually, they are not,” Sarah corrected her, “but today, both you and the Duke were such a grim lot. I was surprised to see you act that way with each other.”
Bridget inhaled deeply, feeling the anguish clutch at the very recesses of her heart with a distant realization that this sensation would follow her for the rest of her days. She would never be rid of it, just as she would never be rid of the feelings she had for him.
“I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Bridget finally admitted, every word feeling like a heavy stone rolling off of her lips.
