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“A gambling problem is a gambling problem, Lord Dalton.”
“I didn’t have a gambling problem. I was desperate.” Desperate and poorly skilled at the tables, a deadly combination.
The condescension on her face eased only slightly, replaced by a frown of confusion. “Explain.”
“Do you recall my sister’s first season?”
She nodded. “Yes. The poor woman was an unmitigated disaster thanks to her run-in with Baron Wardely. You should know that I didn’t believe his words concerning her virtue for a second. The man was a snake.”
The thought of the malicious baron still made him tremble with rage. Despite their parents, Sophie had been holding her own as well enough as she could during that first season until she’d been charmed by Lord Wardely, who hadn’t taken her rejection of his romantic overtures well. His sister had been ruined after the man had spread malicious rumors about her supposed affairs, and it had taken much tearful persuasion on her part to dissuade James from calling the man out. “I’m afraid my dear sister’s troubles with the man had not ended with that season, though she was unaware of that fact for a long time.”
“Does this have anything to do with Lord Amberwood calling him out shortly after marrying her? I had wondered why Wardely had said such nasty things about her again, and in the middle of a ball no less.”
“It had everything to do with it.” If Amberwood hadn’t already banished him to the continent, he would have likely done far worse to Wardely than toss his glove at him.
At least the coward hadn’t shown up to the duel with Amberwood, forcing him to flee into obscurity. “I’ll start from the beginning. That year, my parents’ spending had become untenable. The debts were so severe that they were planning on selling our country house. It is not included in the entail, you see.” In the preceding years, James had all but begged them to economize. He and Sophie had done their best to curb their own expenses, but there was nothing they could do in the wake of their parents’ extravagance.
“You wanted to keep the house?”
He shook his head. “No, a building would not make me so desperate, but the same could not be said for Father. Somehow, Wardely caught wind of the situation and approached him concerning the matter, offering to pay off a large portion of the debts.”
“There was a catch, I take it?”
“Oh,” he replied flippantly, “Only my sister’s hand in marriage. They ordered me to bring her to London under false pretenses by the spring in the chance that she would attempt to run.” He could still remember the rage he’d felt when his father had informed him of the plan, as if Sophie were a mere trinket to be sold. It had been the only time they had come to physical blows, though it did nothing to dissuade the viscount from his course, their mother also giving her tacit approval. “Naturally, that was unacceptable.”
Realization bloomed across her lovely face. “Oh. That was why you began gambling.”
“Yes. And when that resulted in myself accruing my own ludicrous amount of debts, I grew more desperate.”
“And deplorable.”
He swallowed with a painful nod. “That too.”
“What the late Lord Dalton had schemed was indeed horrendous, but that didn’t give you license to ruin another in the process.”
“I will not argue with you on that front. My actions were wrong. I am fully willing to acknowledge that, hence why I seek to make amends.”
Lady Aircourt looked away from him, her lips pursing together. “Would you still feel so contrite if Amberwood hadn’t managed to wrest Lady Francesca away from you?”
Here was one thing he need not have felt guilty about, even if the reason was a small one. “That is a moot question, considering that the marriage wouldn’t have happened even if Amberwood hadn’t chased us down. I was the one who called things off.” In the end, he’d realized he was no better than his father, merely shifting the misery from one woman to another.
Lady Aircourt turned to him sharply. “You? I assumed Lord Amberwood scared you off, and then you fled to escape the creditors.”
“No. In exchange for paying off my debts, he banished me to the continent. A fair punishment. I would likely still be abroad had my father not died.” Sailing from England, watching the land disappear with no assurance that he would see it or his sister again, that day had been the worst of his life and the memory of it burned through him as he watched Lady Aircourt’s contemplative expression. The rain eased, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to mount his horse and gallop away after baring his soul in such a pitiful manner to a near stranger. “The rain has stopped. I should go.”
“Yes, that would be wise.” It was the answer he’d been expecting, but not the one he’d been hoping for. Somehow more melancholy, James stood and made his way back to his horse, unwilling to speak lest his tone betray how pitiful he was feeling at the moment.
“Dalton, wait a moment.”
He stopped at the sound of her dulcet voice and turned his head. Her face was wary, but not entirely hostile. “Yes?”
“If you make an earnest attempt to apologize to Lady Clifton or The Duchess of Ashford, I might reconsider your sincerity.”
He wasn’t sure how at all to go about that request, but if it meant succeeding in his mission, then he would make the attempt. As foolish as he knew it would be. “I will try.” With that, he mounted his horse and trotted away without looking back.
