Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Here, now—”
“And immediately upon your return, betrothing yourself to the wrong woman only to get back at him. Rather impulsive, wouldn’t you say? Maybe it’s something in the Townsend blood.”
His friend launched at him with fists raised, but Marlow expected it and shoved him off. Another brawl? Fine. He was ripe for it after enduring the stringent “acceptance” of his wife’s family this past week. Townsend was bigger but he was angrier. He threw a punch, then ducked Townsend’s answering one and tackled him down on the hard marble stone.
“No, you won’t,” August said through gritted teeth, pulling them apart by brute force. “It’s bad enough Wescott had to marry with a couple shiners. Townsend, help him up. He’s your brother now.”
“Curse him.” Townsend shrugged off August’s grip. “I’m not ready to forgive what he did.”
“He didn’t do anything,” said August. “Aside from save your wayward sister’s life and bring her back to you and your family in one piece.”
Marlow stood apart from his friends, watching them argue about him. Pointless, at the end of it. He would never be good enough, had never been good enough. He wanted to find Rosalind and huddle in her arms because she was the only one who made him feel like anything worthy, but that would be weak.
He had to be strong for her.
“Do you know how much I love your sister?”
He shouted it as they argued. August and Townsend turned to him in surprise.
“Do you know how much I adore her, how much she has taken up residence in my soul? When I thought she would drown, the world seemed as nothing. What if she had died? What if I had lived, and she had drowned? I would have had to—”
His voice caught in his throat. He felt close to breaking down. He was so weak without her. He was nothing.
“She didn’t drown.” August’s practical voice grounded him, pulling him back from the edge. “She might have, without you.”
“She wouldn’t have been in that water if not for me. I understand.” He looked at Townsend. “I understand why you’re angry. It was my fault, even if it wasn’t my fault. I wouldn’t have wished any of this for her.” He swallowed hard. “Brittingham should have married her, I know. He would have been better for her.”
Townsend stood with his arms across his chest. Marlow knew all of his expressions save this one. Did he want to forgive? Did Marlow want to be forgiven?
“I don’t know about Brittingham,” Townsend finally said, grudgingly. “He’s a bit of a boring stick, and my sister…” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess she has more craving for adventure than I gave her credit for. A bit of a daredevil, underneath.”
“She was never afraid of anything,” Marlow pointed out. “Gossip or weather, or spirited horses. Just because she’s so very good…” He hoped he wasn’t going red, thinking of her secret, naughty side. “Just because she’s so very good and proper a woman, it doesn’t mean she’s not a bit wild deep inside.”
“A bit mad, I think, to stow away to India only to have you.”
Marlow laughed at that, and Townsend laughed too. August still stood between them to break up any fisticuffs, but the storm seemed to have passed.
“She’s not mad at all,” Marlow said. “Not like me, but she’s not perfect either. And I’m glad, for if she was perfect, it would be that much harder for me to be deserving of her. It’s hard enough as it is.”
Townsend turned to look out at the lawns, his dark hair framing a pensive face. “The plight of every husband is to feel undeserving of his wife. Look at how my marriage started. Yes, I proposed to Jane only to have a go at Wescott. Somehow, she forgave me.”
“Because she loves you,” said Marlow. “That’s clear enough.”
“And Rosalind loves you.” He turned back to Marlow. “That’s clear enough. Take care of her, won’t you? I don’t know how she’ll be received when we return to London. Or you. Your antics were accepted when you were a dashing bachelor, but now…”
“There will be no more antics,” Marlow promised, and he meant it. “I only wish her to be happy and safe. I suppose I’ll have to fix up my house in London. It’s got good stables for her horses, but it needs a better parlor for callers. She’s so social, after all. It must have a nicer garden, and—” He stopped at his friends’ ogling expressions. “What?”
“Marlow, concerned with parlors and gardens? I’m astonished,” said August. “Now, truly, I shall be on my own. None of you have a bit of bachelor left in you, Wescott, Townsend, Marlow. Not a bit.”
“Because we’re all married,” said Marlow. “When will you find someone? That’s the next step.”
“I don’t know. We’ll see.”