Engagement of Convenience. Georgie Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ no more commissions and encouraged—insisted, one might say—James enjoy his fortune while he still could.

      In the end, despite his disappointment, he’d secretly been relieved. It shamed him to admit it, but he couldn’t lie to himself. Death had passed over him. Ten years ago he’d have shrugged it off and raced to face the devil once more. This time he couldn’t. He wanted to live free of violence and risks, to take care of his family and see his sister’s future children grow up, but without his command he saw nothing, no meaning or activity, just an endless set of days stretching out before him.

      James refilled his drink from the small decanter of brandy on the table near the window. He hated this emptiness. It made him feel like a ship in a storm with a broken rudder at the mercy of driving winds and an unforgiving sea. He took a deep drink, careful not to enjoy too much the burning in the back of his throat. He’d seen other men come home and lose themselves in gin, women and cards, their energy wasted by a lack of duty and direction. He put the glass down, knowing his future wasn’t at the bottom of a bottle, but was it really as close as Cable Grange? Perhaps an estate would give him a sense of purpose again, a chance to do something more than grieve for his past and the future he’d planned for himself.

      James watched while George calculated his next shot. ‘Why isn’t your little Artemis already married?’

      ‘Says she’s not interested.’

      ‘A woman not interested in marriage? Next you’ll tell me you believe in mermaids.’

      ‘I do. I saw one off the coast of Florida once. She’s not interested in marriage. However, a man with an estate could change her mind. If you’re determined to buy Cable Grange, she’s the woman you need to run it.’ George took his time lining up his shot, looking quite proud of himself for what he considered a brilliant idea.

      James couldn’t resist the opportunity to rib his old friend. ‘So your niece is only interested in marrying a man for his estate?’

      George whiffed the cue ball then straightened up, indignant. ‘She’s not that kind of young lady. She’s clever, a real woman of substance, made running Knollwood her life, but the place isn’t hers. Charles plans to assume control when he comes home at the end of the month. Where will she be then?’

      ‘You could leave her Creedon Abbey.’

      ‘I probably will...’ George floundered. Clearly he hadn’t thought of this and James enjoyed watching the older man work to recover himself. ‘But I’m not at death’s door yet. I plan to live at least another twenty years. Spend some time with her, get to know her, you’ll see what I mean.’

      James walked to the window, noticing the threatening clouds gathering overhead. Their darkness layered the hills with damp shadows, making the hour feel late. Somewhere across the hills and valleys sat Cable Grange. Watching the wind shake the tall hedges of the garden, he tried to picture himself as lord of the manor, spending his days in land management with all its hundreds of concerns, but he had trouble imagining it.

      Reaching up under his jacket, he felt for the jagged, raised scar. Yes, he was lucky to be alive and sometimes it made him think he wanted a wife and a family. What would it be like to enjoy the kind of happiness he’d witnessed between his parents before his father died or the love he saw in his sister’s eyes when she walked with her husband? He’d tried so many times while convalescing to imagine the future, but always it remained shrouded in a grey fog of uncertainty. The sudden end to his naval career made the years before him seem meaningless while old wounds and betrayals arose from the past to dominate his mind.

      A bolt of lightning split the distant horizon and the image of Miss Howard atop that beast of a horse commanding him like a common seaman seared his mind. Tight desire coursed through him at the memory of her tongue tracing the line of her lips and the curious need illuminating her face. Her free spirit and courage reminded him of Caribbean ladies, bringing a smile to his face at the memory of warm afternoons and even warmer nights in the islands. Those days seemed like a lifetime ago yet today, in Miss Howard’s presence, their carefree ease sparked deep inside him for the first time in over a year.

      The feeling made him uneasy. He’d experienced something like it once before, allowing it to guide him, and he’d come to regret it.

      He downed the last of the brandy, forcing back the encroaching sadness. He wasn’t ready for another life-altering change and certainly had no intention of courting Miss Howard.

      As James examined the cut-crystal glass, an idea suddenly came to him, so simple yet brilliantly amusing. George was determined to meddle with yet another scheme. Why not catch him up in one of James’s devising, give him a friendly taste of his own medicine?

      ‘Perhaps you’re right. I should give more thought to the idea of marriage,’ James announced, strolling back to the table and scrutinising the position of the balls.

      George’s smile broadened. ‘Indeed.’

      ‘A man needs a woman to make a comfortable home for him.’

      ‘One with a sense of how to run things properly.’

      ‘The perfect mistress to complement him.’

      ‘Exactly.’

      ‘A woman like Miss Taylor.’

      ‘Annette?’ George sputtered. ‘You must be joking.’

      ‘I’m quite serious. She’s well brought up and pleasing to view.’ James leaned over the table to take a shot, pretending not to notice George’s stunned expression.

      ‘But there’s nothing there, no substance.’

      ‘Good. It makes life less complicated.’ James hit the cue ball, sending it bouncing off the side to hit the red ball. Straightening up, he worked to contain his laughter as George stared slack jawed at him.

      ‘Annette?’

      James smiled to himself, realising just how much fun this harmless revenge would be.

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