The Merchant and the Clergyman (16 page)

“Hooligans do like to prey on the weak and
the elderly. Did you get them in trouble?”

“Oh yes. Not from the law, but from the
parents. There were hidings all around, including mine. My father
couldn’t keep my name out of it or protect me from retribution. I
earned a serious beating from my former friends before the matter
finally faded into the past. And worst of all, I had to face the
ladies and beg their pardon. I’ve never forgotten the surprise and
disappointment in me expressed in their eyes.” He laughed. “But
several valuable things came from it all. For a time, I did errands
for Miss Lane and Miss Peters. and they taught me how to sew. I can
mend my own clothing when it’s torn, which is a useful skill. And
those dear things took such an interest in me, they helped send me
to boarding school the next term. Odd how my bad behavior opened
new doors for me.” He considered telling Declan how much he missed
the old ladies who’d died years ago, but supposed he already
appeared to be a man-milliner.

Declan clapped his hands together. “That
story ends exactly as I would expect. You are good deep in your
core, James Fletcher, and deserve all good things to come to you.
Your sincerity is the quality that immediately attracted me to you,
and I recognized your gentle spirit despite the fact you’d kneed my
cousin in the balls.”

“Now you make me out to be some sort of
saint,” James scoffed. “I’m not. We both know that. The secret
things I enjoy prove it.”

A slow lascivious grin curved Declan’s lips.
“The secret things you enjoy are fine with me. In fact, I think
they add texture and depth to who you are. An imperfect man in an
imperfect world, but with kindness enough to lift you above the
rest of us sinners.”

Embarrassment and, yes, pleasure at the
compliment made James’s face burn. “Enough. Stop. Now, turnabout is
fair play. You tell me something.”

Declan leaned even farther back in his chair,
making himself comfortable with his legs sprawled before him, so
handsome in this casually lounging position that the hot glow from
James’s cheeks spread to the rest of his body.

“Well, I must admit, if I were in your story,
I’d likely be the ringleader of those boys—minus the housebreaking.
That was the sort of boy I was, the one to organize games and
activities and get into trouble now and then. I was never much
given to contemplation or quiet like you. I liked to keep things
happening all around me. Distractions, I suppose, so that I didn’t
have to examine my own thoughts and feelings too deeply.” He shook
his head. “Perhaps I live that way still. My family’s business
concerns are important, but maybe I like to see them as a little
more important than they are so my work seems indispensable.”

“A busy man doing worthwhile work is a happy
man,” James suggested.

“Unless that work becomes his life and he
makes no home for himself in the world.” Declan clicked his tongue.
“I’ve been considering that recently. The stays at boarding houses
and hotel rooms. The brief encounters that take the place of true
friendships. I feel time slipping past and me, unchanging in it.
One fire flares up, and I quench it. I’m called to yet another city
to do it all over again. And at the end, what have I got other than
the satisfaction of a job accomplished.”

“That can be enough.”

“Can it? Can it really? Are you satisfied
with knowing you’ve served your parishioners? Is that all the
fulfillment you need?”

“It will have to be. I can’t…” James took a
deep breath. “I can’t marry some poor girl and start a family just
to keep from being alone. I wouldn’t do that to any woman. And
there is no alternative for men like us. You know that.”

Declan frowned, clearly at a crossroads in
his life, one James had witnessed during his counseling of people.
What man doesn’t wonder if the choices he’s made are the right
ones?

“After I get my Aunt Mary ensconced with Mum,
I intend to take some time off. I’ve been working in one way or
another since I was a boy. I need to pause and simply…breathe.”

James nodded. “A rest sounds like exactly
what you need.”

“Family expectations be damned, I wish to
arrange an apprenticeship of sorts under the tutelage of a chef. I
don’t expect to make a career of cooking, but… I have to see if I
have any talent.”

“Then you must pursue it,” James said
emphatically.

Declan leveled a gaze at him, searing James
with those cool blue eyes. “Tell me what makes
you
happy,
James.”

You do
. “Helping people to feel
happier in their lives,” he answered. “I think, in the end, that’s
the best thing any of us can do, be a support and a comfort to each
other. When one does that, he discovers his own happiness.”

A smile broke through Declan’s serious
expression. “And you say you’re not a saint, James Fletcher.
Liar.”

Another blush threatened, so James tossed his
head and answered lightly, “I didn’t say I was successful at it.
But that is my goal, and I strive to achieve it.”

“God
damn
but I like you.” Declan
vaulted from his seat and pulled James up, dragging him away from
the single window in the office, lest anyone should see them
embrace.

Being enfolded in those strong arms was pure
happiness, James decided. Not the giving to others kind but the
selfish kind, and at the moment, he was content to be interested
only in his own joy. He snuggled against Declan’s hard chest and
gripped his back.

“I wish we had more time,” Declan spoke into
his hair, warm breath tickling James’s scalp. “There is yet another
party for guests arriving for the wedding—more of Kip’s friends
coming up from the city. You’re not invited, are you?”

“No,” James said with relief.

“Such a big fuss for a wedding that shouldn’t
take place,” Declan’s sigh shifted James. “Though most of my fellow
guests seem to be having a fine time.”

“It is the biggest event this village has
seen in years,” James reminded him.

“I’d rather spend time with you. I’ll slip
away again tonight, and we will make the most of the hours we have
together.”

“Yes.”

“But I don’t want to put you in any danger by
returning here too often,” Declan said. “Should we meet someplace
secluded yet not too distant? Do you know of such a place?”

“I do,” James murmured into the intoxicating
tobacco-infused coat. “A mill, long abandoned. The tributary that
powered it went dry some years back, and the owner simply left the
property to deteriorate. If we met there after dark…”

Declan nodded as he rocked James’s body
slightly to and fro. “I know the place you mean. It was still in
operation when I visited here as a boy. I’ll stay for a few dances,
then sneak away. I’ll bring refreshments.”

“And I’ll bring a blanket to lie on.” James
felt more daring and lighthearted than he ever had.

Declan laughed. “We’ll have a small feast and
then feast on each other.”

A shiver of anticipation passed through
James. If this was to be their last opportunity together, they must
make a memory that would sustain him through the drought to come.
For this one night, he’d seize happiness for himself and offer it
to Declan. No guilt or shame or doubts allowed.

“I’ll meet you even if it’s later than
midnight,” he promised.

Chapter Fourteen

His uncle’s valet had starched Declan’s white
shirt front until it squeaked when he moved. The man was far less
accomplished than his predecessor—another sign of the squire’s
parsimony.

Declan thanked the valet, sent him on his
way, and finished dressing himself for the ball. As he adjusted the
cufflinks and pulled on his jacket, he imagined shedding them again
in only a few hours. Desire lurched through him. Not the time, he
reminded himself sternly and went to face the music—and
dancing.

Downstairs, the crowd had already gathered.
Unlike the balls he’d attended, the family didn’t stand and welcome
guests for more than a half hour, perhaps because his aunt kept
wandering from the line. Miss Parker, flushed and bright eyed as if
she had a fever, stood with Aunt Mary.

“You look lovely, Miss Parker,” Declan
said.

She touched the delicate arrangement of
flowers in her elaborate hair. Her gown had layers of filmy stuff
and was a shade of pink that almost matched her cheeks. She grinned
at him. “I do look wonderful, don’t I?”

He laughed. “Yes, and I’m sure your dance
card is full already.”

She nodded, and lifted the fan-shaped card
tied on her wrist. “Several of Kip’s friends, in fact, but I have a
mazurka open. The third dance,” she said and raised her brows, her
meaning clear.

He reached for the tiny golden pencil
attached to her card and added his name to the dance.

The music began, and Kip came to claim her
for the first waltz, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek. He
directed a glare at Declan and led Miss Parker to the dance floor.
Kip’s smile for his fiancée was as wide and charming as always, but
Miss Parker tilted her head away. She examined a huge vase of
flowers, the glittering chandelier—looking anywhere, it seemed,
other than at Kip.

That could not be a good sign.

Declan remained with his aunt and talked
about the beauty of her childhood home. She smiled and nodded when
he mentioned taking her there “just for a visit.” Before the end of
the waltz, her maid came to lead Mary away to her rooms.

Restless and wishing to be gone, Declan
walked to the French doors and gazed out at the fairy lights. From
behind him came his uncle’s voice. “I’m sure this isn’t up to your
usual London standards.” The squire stood just at his shoulder, too
close.

Declan turned and eyed him. “I’m rarely in
London, and I’m often too busy for parties like this.” He waved a
hand in a circle to indicate the room and garden. “This is lovely.”
How did you afford it?
he thought.

His uncle’s sharp gaze didn’t soften. “Even
we rustics may enjoy ourselves.”

Declan suppressed his usual snide responses.
He once again tried to respond as James might. “Of course. And
you’re providing entertainment for quite a few grateful
families.”

His uncle glared, a repeat of Kip’s narrowed
eyes. Clearly he didn’t trust Declan’s friendly mien. “I have a
reputation as a generous host.”

Declan decided not to ask him if that was
where all of the family’s money had gone.

As he tried to think of a more neutral
remark, his uncle said, “I hope your business in Huddersfield was
successful?”

“Oh. Yes.” Declan realized he hadn’t hidden
his surprise well, so he added. “It’s odd that you know I went
there. I don’t recall telling anyone where I was going.”

“Of course you did,” the squire said. His
smile was broad and showed many teeth. “Or perhaps a friend told me
he’d seen you there.”

The squire seemed at ease, yet his gaze
remained sharp on Declan as if he waited for something. Declan gave
up pretending to be polite. “Uncle, I am not very good at
subtleties. Are you trying to send some sort of message? Threaten
me, perhaps?”

“I?” His uncle’s laugh was hearty and
unconvincing. “You are an imaginative young fool.” For just a
moment, he pressed his lips tight and his nostrils flared. Then the
smile reappeared. “First you wonder if there’s something sinister
about your poor aunt’s condition, and now you think I’m after you.
What on earth do you think we get up to here in Bishop’s
Hartfeld?”

“I have no idea,” Declan said, and his
impatience broke through completely. “But I wonder why my natural
concern for my aunt upset you to such a degree.”

The smile remained in place, but his uncle’s
voice dropped. “You accuse me of hurting my wife. Of course that is
upsetting.”

“I felt I must understand what has happened
with my aunt, and I have not been diplomatic about my inquiries.
When I see a crisis, I step in. I’m used to giving orders without
concern for the feelings of others.” He added with less truth, “If
I have offended you, I am sorry.”

His uncle still didn’t look away. “Your
apologies and explanations are of no interest to me.” He drew in
such a deep breath that his gold studs looked as if they might pop
off his chest. “Never mind all that. I came over here for one
reason. I want you to stay away from my son’s fiancée.”

“What?” He was so astonished, he took a step
backward.

“I saw the way you looked at her earlier. You
want her.”

Declan tried not to smile. “I assure you, I
have no interest in Miss Parker except as my future cousin.”

“I watched you write on her dance card.”

Declan coughed to cover his laughter. “Many
other gentlemen are going to dance with her.”

“She didn’t smile at them the way she did at
you.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

His uncle blazed up. “I don’t see why this is
amusing to you. Don’t you dare come nosing around and interfering
with my family.”

Declan understood at last that the squire was
worried. Perhaps he’d seen Miss Parker’s chilly manner with Kip.
The squire didn’t want the bird escaping before he had a chance to
stuff her—and her money—into the cage.

“I promise not to flirt with Miss Parker,”
Declan said. He moved toward the door and the garden. “I am going
for a stroll outside. You should enjoy your party.”

His uncle followed him. “You stay away from
Miss Parker.”

He looked back from the doorway. “Come now,
Uncle, why are you so worried? I have no plans to elope with the
girl.”

Uncle Darnley moved close again. “You put a
bee in her bonnet. I don’t want you even talking to her.”

Declan held his stare. “I truly do not
understand why you are so upset.”

Darnley’s gaze shifted around the room. He
spoke in a low voice, difficult for Declan to hear over the music
and chattering guests. “Earlier today, she was asking me about my
wife’s condition, and the girl was almost impertinent. She must
have heard some of your idiotic ideas.”