When Love is Enough (The Brotherhood Series) Page 3

  "Yes."

  The two men looked at each other and Austin knew they didn’t think it was wise to move him. Knew they thought Gabe would die before they got him back to camp. Only one had the courage to say the words out loud.

  "He’s hurt real bad, Cap’n. Mayhaps it’d be best if we left him be. At least the end will be more comfortable-like if we don’t move him."

  "He needs to get to the surgeon. Now!"

  "But—" the other soldier started, then stopped short when Austin gave him a stinging look.

  "Right away, Cap’n. We’ll get the major to the surgeon right quick, we will."

  The two men picked Gabe up and moved him onto the stretcher. He moaned and Austin’s heart lurched in his chest. His friend looked more dead than alive.

  "We’re going home, Gabe. Just like we promised. We’re leaving here together. Both of us."

  Austin walked beside the stretcher as they made their way through a battlefield littered with dead.

  He’d give General Simpson the papers. Then he was taking Gabe home.

  CHAPTER 3

  London, England

  June 1, 1855

  What a crush! What an absolute crush!

  Lydia pasted a smile on her face and made her way from one group of long-time friends to another. She reminded herself for the hundredth time that this is what she’d have to learn to love about London: the endless rounds of balls and parties and social gatherings, buying new gowns, getting dressed up, and staying out nearly all night. There must be plenty of good reasons to enjoy the excitement, invitations, and laughter.

  London during the height of the season should be her favorite time of the year.

  So why did she wish this night were over?

  She walked through Lady Puttingsworth’s exquisitely decorated ballroom and told herself it was no wonder she was reluctant to jump back into the whirl of social life. Gabriel’s cruel rejection of her, followed by her father’s unexpected death only weeks later had delivered a doubly harsh blow. Austin’s abrupt departure to follow Gabe and fight the war in the Crimea had prompted her to spend a year of mourning in quiet solitude at Southerby Manor. After the peacefulness of the country, the number of people here tonight was a bit overwhelming.

  From the minute she walked through the door, she was inundated with greetings to welcome her back from her long absence. She wanted to blame her desire to escape on the number of well-wishers vying for her attention, but she knew that wasn’t it.

  Coming here tonight forced her to leap back into a world that no longer contained Gabe.

  She made her way to the room the Marchioness of Puttingsworth reserved for her lavish array of foods and refreshments and took a glass of spiced punch from the table. The tangy liquid was still relatively cool and Lydia welcomed its relief. For the first time in her life she felt like an outsider stepping into unfamiliar surroundings. How odd, since this was the life she’d been born into, the life she’d been raised to expect, the only life she’d ever known – until Gabe let her glimpse a life that would have been different.

  She felt a heavy weight press against her chest and pushed the hurt away. In the last twelve months she’d become expert at replacing the pain with an emotion that was limited in the feelings it recognized. It was a trick she hadn’t mastered completely, but was getting better at each day.

  She didn’t hate him yet, but she would - soon.

  She pushed all thoughts of him far from her mind. It had taken her a year to recover from the hurt. A year to realize that the promises he’d made had all been empty, that he’d only wanted her for the money he thought would come with her. It had taken a year to accept the fact that he was never coming back, and even if he did, it wouldn’t be to her. Because she wouldn’t have him.

  When he’d first left, she doubted she’d survive. Now, she knew she would. She’d not only survive, but she’d have everything from life she’d always dreamed of having: marriage to the perfect husband, a home with children to nurture and care for, an enviable position in Society.

  Everything Gabriel took away from her.

  She lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip, blaming the tartness of the liquid for the burning in her throat. She swallowed hard and looked up, her gaze focusing on the open doorway.

  Her heart gave a startled leap at the man walking toward her. He was a breathtaking sight - tall, golden blond, with perfectly chiseled features. Probably the most sought-after catch of the Season. Except he wasn’t interested in any of the debutantes falling at his feet. He was already linked to her.

  Lydia looked up at the Marquess of Culbertson and smiled.

  "Lady Lydia, you can’t imagine how surprised I was to hear you’d finally returned to Society."

  "I came with Harrison. He convinced me it was time."

  "He was right. You’ve been in mourning long enough. Your father wouldn’t have wanted you to give up any more of your youth to grieve for him."

  "No, he wouldn’t have," she added, although it wasn’t only her father’s death she’d mourned for the past year.

  "I can’t believe there isn’t a horde of eager young men vying for your attention." He raised his thick, golden brows in an enchanting gesture. "Or have you come to get something to drink to escape your press of admirers?"

  "Of course not," she said. "I simply needed a glass of punch to quench my thirst."

  Culbertson took the empty glass from her hands and smiled. "Perhaps you’d like to step outside on the terrace for a breath of fresh air?"

  Without giving her a chance to refuse, he turned her toward the open patio doors and ushered her out into the cool, crisp London evening.

  She didn’t mind. In fact, she’d anticipated having a conversation with the Marquess of Culbertson tonight. He’d been far more than patient with her. After all, a year had passed since his father had been to see her father. The Marquess of Culbertson had been her father’s hand-picked choice to be her husband, but when he’d come to make his intentions known she’d been too distraught over Gabriel’s rejection to see him. Then, only weeks later, her father had died in a hunting accident and she’d welcomed her year of mourning.

  Now, however, the year since her father’s death had passed and it was time to resume her life. Now that she’d reentered Society, she’d let her relationship with Culbertson proceed at whatever speed the marquess determined.

  "I intended to send a note to inform you of my return," she said, "but Harrison told me you were gone from London on business."

  "Yes. Estate business takes up a great deal of my time. I regret that I wasn’t here. We could have spent several weeks in each other’s company."

  Lydia waited for the rush of heightened anticipation to warm her blood. The thought of spending time with Gabriel always set her heart racing. Culbertson’s announcement, however, caused no reaction. Damn Gabriel. If the opportunity ever arose, she’d make sure he paid for what he’d done to her.

  "Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, walking at a leisurely pace as they exited through the open doorway and into the cool, crisp spring evening.

  "I am. The Marchioness of Puttingsworth can’t be outdone when it comes to entertaining. An invitation to one of her affairs is coveted by everyone in Society."

  "Perhaps that’s why there’s such a crowd."

  "Yes. There’s always a crush at her balls. Such a throng of people makes it all the more exciting."

  "And the perfect event to mark your return."

  She smiled as she walked beside him.

  He led her to the far side of the terrace and held her hand to help her sit on a curved stone bench.

  "I must apologize," he said, sitting beside her on the edge of the bench.

  Lydia brought the skirts of her peach satin gown closer to give him room, then looked into his face. "For what?"

  "For not commenting on how stunning you look tonight. You stole my breath the minute I saw you. But I was so pleased to see you here that my manners escaped
me."

  Her cheeks warmed. It had been so long since anyone had noticed how she looked. It had been even longer that she’d cared. "Thank you."

  "If I had known you were going to attend tonight, I would have asked permission to escort you." He turned his head and looked at her. "Would that have been agreeable?"

  She knew his question included more than escorting her here tonight. It meant being her escort from here on. She took a deep breath and smiled.

  "I would have been delighted."

  "I’m glad." The marquess rose. "I don’t know if anyone told you, but I came to see you shortly before your father’s accident. I’d just discovered your father and mine had planned our futures. I thought it might be prudent to see if their plans met with your approval."

  "I appreciate your concern."

  The marquess paced a small area in front of her. "I wanted you to know that I had no part in their matchmaking."

  She sensed the marquess’s unease. "Would you have rejected the arrangement if you had known about it?"

  He stopped and looked at her. "I would have made sure you were open to such an arrangement before any details were discussed. As I remember, all of Society thought there would be a match between you and Talbot. Even your brothers seemed certain there would."

  "Well, they were wrong."

  "May I ask what happened?"

  "That was a long time ago. I’ve forgotten."

  Culbertson arched his brows. "Have you?"

  Lydia saw the open question on his face. He deserved an explanation. "Anything that might have been between Captain Talbot and myself was finished the day he left."

  "Talbot’s a major now. Did you know?"

  Her heart tripped. "If I did, I’d forgotten. Thankfully, my father saw Major Talbot’s true nature and exposed him. I’m grateful to have escaped marriage to him before it was too late."

  Culbertson clasped his hands behind his back. "Then I see no reason to avoid pursuing our relationship. My father is quite insistent on a match between us, and I certainly have no objections. You are beautiful beyond measure and you come from a very prestigious family. Your brother, Lord Etherington, has a reputation for being an astute man of business with a keen intelligence. The improvements he’s made to the Landwell holdings in the last year are remarkable."

  Lydia realized she hadn’t paid the slightest attention to the condition of their estates. Before her father’s accident, she’d thought they might be in financial difficulties, but since money was never a topic that was discussed, she had no way of actually knowing.

  "And your younger brother," Culbertson continued, "is already a captain in Her Majesty’s Army. He’s received acclaims too numerous to mention. Is it any wonder, then, that only the bravest of men would dare to compete for the sister of not one, but two brothers with such amazing attributes? Not to mention the fact that your name was closely linked with Major Gabriel Talbot’s. The standards he set are quite daunting."

  "I wouldn’t know," Lydia interrupted with a little more sarcasm than necessary.

  She didn’t want to hear of Gabriel’s bravery, or his accomplishments. She didn’t want to hear anything that would remind her of him. She only wanted to get on with her life. A life that would never include him again.

  "You haven’t heard the tales of his heroism?"

  "I’m hardly interested in anything Major Talbot does." She lifted her gaze and stared at Culbertson. "You sound as if you’re intimidated by the major. You needn’t be."

  "I’m not intimidated. Perhaps a little in awe, though."

  "In awe?"

  "Who wouldn’t be?" He sat down beside her again. "The major is already rumored to have saved hundreds of lives. His valor on the battlefield is renowned, as if he defies death with the risks he takes. Who wouldn’t wish to be half so brave?"

  "Then you wish to be part of the military?"

  He sighed. "Taking a post in the military was never an option for me. I’m the only son of the Duke of Chisolmwood. I can hardly risk getting killed and allowing the Chisolmwood title to pass down to a distant cousin now, can I?"

  "No, I imagine you can’t. But if what I’ve heard is correct, you’ve contributed more than most of our titled nobility where foreign affairs are concerned."

  "Oh, really? Just what have you heard?"

  "Nothing much." She noted his reaction, one of surprise. For some reason it puzzled her. Maybe because she expected a denial and didn’t receive one. "Just that you are included in many of the meetings where our military objectives are discussed."

  Culbertson laughed. "Oh, that. Yes, well, I’ve found that rank has its privileges when it comes to being included in military strategies. I’ve always been fascinated with the military, and being the son of the Duke of Chisolmwood allows me to satisfy my fetish. Luckily, I’ve found if I sit quietly and offer no examples of my ignorance, those in command allow me to stay." He looked at her and smiled. "I always remain the silent observer, I assure you."

  "You make the role you play sound very insignificant."

  "Oh, I promise you, I play no role. Neither Lord Fenton nor Lord Rediger of Her Majesty’s Foreign Service would put much credence in anything I might be foolhardy enough to offer. They tolerate my intrusion because my father is one of the military’s largest supporters. It’s all about money, my dear. Everything is, you know."

  Lydia studied the serious expression on Culbertson’s face. The marquess was much more complicated than she’d imagined. But he was right in one thing. Everything was about money. Wasn’t that the reason Gabe had wanted her? Because of the dowry she would bring with her?

  Wasn’t the lack of it the reason he’d given her up?

  At least money wasn’t the reason the Marquess of Culbertson wanted her. Everyone knew his father was one of the richest men in England.

  Lydia smiled. Perhaps Culbertson was the perfect match for her.

  "I intend to take a carriage ride through Hyde Park tomorrow afternoon," he said, taking her hand. "Say around five o’clock. It would be my pleasure to have you accompany me if you aren’t otherwise engaged."

  His eyes gleamed with a keen intelligence she admired and his mouth lifted slightly.

  Lydia waited to feel the surge of warmth that had always engulfed her when Gabriel touched her. It didn’t happen.

  She paused.

  What did that matter? This was the man her father had chosen for her. The man Gabriel had gladly given her over to. As she pondered his invitation, she realized that even though she didn’t experience a stirring warmth when he touched her, neither did she find him unappealing.

  "I’d be delighted," she said, knowing she’d just taken the first step in showing Society that she’d accepted Culbertson’s declarations.

  "Very good." Culbertson rose and held out his arm to help her to her feet. "The air has a definite chill to it. We’d best go inside before our absence is noticed."

  "Of course."

  She placed her hand on Culbertson’s arm and walked back into the crowded ballroom. So what did it matter if her fingers didn’t tingle when she touched him? So what if a shiver of expectancy didn’t race down her spine when he looked at her? So what if her blood didn’t thunder in her head when he held her? There was more than love to any marriage.

  Everyone knew that.

  ___

  "Lydia."

  She turned from a group of friends with whom she’d been conversing to see her brother walk toward her. It was impossible not to notice the anxious expression on his face.

  "What is it, Harrison? Is something wrong?"

  "I have to leave. I just received a message from Austin. He’s home. Here in London."

  Lydia clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle her cry of elation. "Austin’s home?"

  "Yes. I’m leaving immediately, but you can stay if you’d like. Lady Henshaw said she would see you home when they left."

  "Don’t be ridiculous." Lydia placed her hand on Harrison’s arm. "How could you th
ink I would want to stay?"

  Her brother laughed as he escorted her to the door. "I can’t wait to tell Austin his arrival caused his sister to cut short her first ball in more than a year."

  She ignored his teasing remark and kept pace with him as they walked up the stairs of the ballroom. They said their farewells to the Duke and Duchess of Puttingsworth, then made their way to the entrance.

  "Did you know Austin was coming?" she asked while they waited for their carriage to be brought round. "I thought he couldn’t come for months yet. Do you think something’s wrong?"

  Harrison smiled. "Austin always said you were the most curious female he knew."

  Lydia stepped up into their carriage when it arrived, but she couldn’t erase the niggling unease. "You haven’t answered my question. What do you think it means that he arrived so unexpectedly?"

  "That they transported him on the first available ship and he didn’t have time to write us."

  Lydia turned to look out the window as they made their way down the quiet London streets. "Or that he wasn’t able to write us."

  "Don’t borrow trouble, Liddy. We’ll find out soon enough. We’re almost home."

  When the carriage came to a halt in front of Etherhouse, Harrison dismounted before the groom had the carriage step in place. He helped her to the ground then they both raced through the door the butler held open for them.

  "Captain Landwell is upstairs," Ruskins said as he took their cloaks.

  Lydia raced across the foyer and looked up. Her breath caught. "Austin?"

  Austin stood above them, his hair mussed and his clothing still dirty and wrinkled from weeks of travel. But he was whole and healthy, with all four limbs still intact. He leaned against the balcony railing as if he needed support, then pushed himself away and staggered before taking his first step.

  She ran up the stairs and into his arms.

  "Austin!" she cried, touching his stubbled face and mussed hair. "Are you all right?"

  "I’m fine."

  His voice was little more than a whisper and he pulled her to him again and held her so tightly she could barely catch her breath.