Page 1 of Scars of a Passionate Revenge
Chapter 1
“Well, my friend,” Cecil said, raising his glass with a flourish. “It is good to see you back in town, at long last.”
Benedict lifted his glass and chinked it against his friend’s. “Cheers, Chalmers. I must say that I am glad to be back.”
Benedict took a swig of whiskey, feeling its heat burning pleasantly as it coursed down his throat, and looked around the room. Nothing had changed at White’s in all the time he had been away. The same oak-paneled walls, the same groups of gentlemen drinking, playing cards, and exchanging news. But out there in the wide world, everything was changing faster than anyone could even imagine.
“So what are your plans, now that you are home?” Cecil asked.
Benedict glanced at the fair-haired, smiling man who was sitting opposite him. Cecil Grant, the Viscount Chalmers, had been one of his closest friends for many years; he knew all his secrets—well, most of them—and the two had shared many adventures over the course of their lives. This next phase of life, though, was going to be different.
“I have seen the world, now, you know,” Benedict said, somewhat pensively. He raked a hand through his dark hair, and flexed his muscular shoulders. He was still stiff from the many hours stuck in his cramped cabin, onboard the ship on which he had travelled home from the Americas.
“There is so much to see, so much to learn. It will not be long before we have railways here. If those old codgers in Parliament would just pass the act, and let the real men get on with the work… well, then everything will change. You’ll see.”
Cecil laughed softly. “I am sure that not everything will change. But men like you will thrive, Benedict, no matter what happens.”
“You flatter me, Chalmers,” Benedict said smoothly. But he knew that his friend was right. He had worked hard all his life. And here he was, drinking with a viscount at White’s, even though he had no title and his father’s career had ended in disgrace.
He had proved himself, through his determination to be successful. He knew that he could have his pick of the young ladies of theton, and of the women found in less respectable places too. But there was one thing he still had not achieved. Revenge.
His brow furrowed in thought. “There is some outstanding business, as you well know…”
Cecil held his gaze across the table for a moment, then took another sip of his drink. “All this from your childhood? It still troubles you so?”
Benedict drained his glass then set it down on the table in front of him with a thud. He gestured to a nearby waiter to fetch them another decanter, before he began to speak again. “It is impossible to forget. All those years of service that my father gave to that man, the baron. All those years I spent living alongside them, but never accepted by them. We were not their inferiors!
And yet my father felt that every day, until that last day when they betrayed him.” Benedict could hear the barely suppressed rage in his own voice as he recounted the story that his friend already knew so well.
He took a breath before making his final declaration. “You ask what I will do now that I am back in England. And the answer is that I am here to right some wrongs, at long last. The Baron of Danneville cannot go unpunished forever.”
Cecil let out a sigh and refilled both their glasses from the decanter of whiskey which had appeared on the table, almost as if by magic. “Do you not think it’s time to let it go? It is ancient history, and you have achieved so much in life. I know that the memories cause you pain, but honestly, what happened all those years ago has not hindered your success in life.”
Benedict huffed. “If only I could remember it all! That is the problem, as well you know. I cannot remember what happened leading up to the fire, and I am determined to find out. I cannot for a moment believe that my father was guilty of what they accused him of. He was not a thief! I must find out the truth, and have my revenge.”
“Well, I see you are decided,” Cecil said with a wry smile. “And I know you well enough to know that once you have set your mind on something, there is nothing that will persuade you to relent. So you have my support on this, as in all things, Benedict.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Benedict replied. “Now, I will have another hand of cards out of you shortly, but first, I must remind you of your promise.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice; he knew that most of the gentlemen in the room would not care two figs about what he was saying, but he was not prepared to risk jeopardizing his plans, should the wrong person overhear them.
“You promised you would accompany me to the Riversdale ball, in a few days’ time. That is the best way, you see, to meet the baron again and hone my strategy to expose him.”
Cecil nodded. “I promised, and I will stick to my word. But I still think you would be happier if you tried to let it go, to forget about it, and to appreciate what you have now. Perhaps once you have seen him, you will feel differently about it all.”
Benedict rolled his eyes. “I will not. I will be all the more determined to proceed with my plans, once I have set eyes on the old wretch. But let us forget about it for now, and I shall thrash you again, and take all your money!”
Cecil grinned. “Or perhaps I will take all of yours,” he said with a smirk, then gathered up the cards on the table, shuffled them thoroughly, and began to deal out their hands for another round.
***
“Well, now that I have indeed relieved you of all your money, I think we should call it a night,” Benedict said a while later. He had drunk perhaps a little more whiskey than he ought to have done, but he still felt fully in control of his faculties as he got to his feet and prepared to leave the club.
Cecil followed him down the stairs into the opulent entrance hall.
“Shall I summon a hackney coach for you, Sir?” the footman at the door enquired.
“I think I should prefer to walk back to my rooms. What do you say Cecil?” Benedict turned to his friend, who was swaying a little as they stood in the hallway. “I rather think that the fresh air will do you good.”
Cecil nodded. “You are right, Benedict, of course,” he replied.
