Page 32 of It Takes Two to Tumble
“I only meant that you deserve better than what I have to offer.”
Now the same anger that had plagued Ben earlier this evening was seeping back into his mood. “Youdeserve better. You deserve better than a family you keep at arm’s length and a lover you push away. You deserve better than that. And now I’m going to go back to my room.” He dropped a kiss onto Phillip’s worried brow, just to show him that his words were meant in a spirit of kindness, and left Phillip alone in his bed.
Chapter Fifteen
Alice greeted Ben with a loud, “Thatwas your Captain Angry?” as soon as he entered the Crawfords’ drawing room.
“Good to see you too, Alice,” he answered. She was sitting in a Bath chair, which was an improvement over being propped up on the sofa like a rag doll. He was conscious that he had perhaps missed a few key stages in her recovery; he had only visited her once in the two weeks since Phillip’s arrival. “And in a chair, rather than Hartley’s death trap or the sofa. I congratulate you on finding a reasonable middle ground.” Hartley was there as well, sipping tea and watching him with curiosity.
“Your captain behaved like a perfect gentleman,” Alice continued. “I had been expecting a grizzled old man with elaborate mustaches.”
“What do mustaches have to do with it?” Hartley asked.
“You should have heard your brother go on,” Alice said, turning to Hartley. “He would have had us believe Captain Dacre was an ogre. And instead he seemed an amiable man. Young, too, unless you consider five-and-thirty to be old. He was talking with you, Ben, while his children frolicked about like monkeys in the jungle, which doesn’t sound like something a strict disciplinarian would do much of, does it, Hart?”
“No, Alice. I quite agree with you. I think our Ben has slandered his new friend.” He looked shrewdly—too shrewdly—at Ben. Ben sighed. Hartley saw too much. That was the problem with having a brother so close in age to oneself. Hartley could read him like a book.
Ben thought back to how Phillip had been yesterday, his jaw unshaved, the bridge of his nose slightly sunburnt, a smile on his lips as he watched his family. How very unlike the stiff, cold man Ben had first thought him. Then he thought of Phillip—on him, under him, kissing him, and—no, he could not let his thoughts wander in that direction. Not in Alice’s drawing room, not with Hartley’s knife-sharp gaze on him.
“Captain Dacre is a prince among men and I viciously slandered him,” Ben said lightly, as if he weren’t dead serious. He was hiding the truth in plain sight, because this was the only way to end the conversation before he said something that confirmed whatever lewd suspicions Hartley was—quite justifiably—currently forming. “I thought you were going to wait until August to visit. What made you come home now?” he asked Hartley. Because he could read Hartley as well as Hartley could read him and he knew those lines around his brother’s eyes hadn’t been there the last time they had seen one another. “Is it Will?”
Something passed over Hartley’s face. “No,” he said, and they both knew it meantnot this time. “He’s much the same.”
“Good,” Ben said. “But then why—” He stopped short when he saw Hartley’s gaze cut momentarily over towards the sofa where Alice sat. So whatever had brought Hartley home couldn’t be mentioned in front of Alice. That was not a good sign. He doubted his brother was in a scrape, because Hartley was too concerned with what other people thought of him to get into trouble. Perhaps he needed money? No, it couldn’t be that, because Ben and their father were the last people on earth to have cash at the ready. Whatever it was would have to wait until they were alone, he supposed.
Evidently they were being unsubtle about their intentions, because Alice rolled her eyes. “If you two boys need to be left alone, just chuck me outside. This infernal Bath chair won’t fit through the garden door, but you can just pick me up and toss me out like the contents of a slop bin. I’d hate to stand between you and your very manly conversation.”
Ben couldn’t help but laugh. “Such a shrew. So unladylike.”
“I know,” Alice said. “Poor Hartley is going to go into fits. He’s used to traveling in much more exalted circles and dancing attendance upon ladies infinitely more refined than I.”
“I already knew you were a pair of rustics.” Hartley sniffed.
“Yes, well, this rustic took three steps without assistance this morning, and I’m dreadfully proud of myself. Hartley brought me a set of paints from London,” Alice said, turning to Ben. “I’m going to paint his portrait as some kind of Greek god. I was thinking Apollo—”
“Narcissus is more to the point,” Ben interjected.
“This is all in shockingly bad taste,” Hartley said languidly, buffing his fingernails on the lapel of his coat. “This is why I seldom leave London. My sensibilities are shocked by these lapses into vulgarity. Take me back to the inn, Benedict.” And with that he rose to his feet, kissed Alice’s hand, and swept Ben out of the room.
“Do you recall how Sir Humphrey left me that bit of property?” Hartley said when they were out of doors. “Well, Martin is contesting his father’s will.”
Ben knew nothing about legal matters, but thought one needed grounds to contest a will. “Can he just do that?”
“He’s saying I had undue influence over his father.”
“But that’s nonsensical.” Ben was conscious of Hartley’s gaze intently on him. “He was your godfather and he was always very fond of you. People give money to their godchildren all the time.”
“People give one another money for all sorts of reasons,” Hartley said with a sigh.
“What aren’t you saying?” Ben stopped walking and turned to face his brother. “And why couldn’t you have told me that in a letter rather than coming all the way from London?”
“I just...” Hartley, usually so polished and confident, looked young and embarrassed. He shook his head. “Never mind. I want you to be careful in case Martin turns his sights on you. Be safe, Benedict. If you’re going to marry Alice, now is the time. She is Easterbrook’s cousin, after all.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Of course you can. She needs to marry and you need a wife. Besides, you adore one another.”
“Not like that,” Ben whispered.
