Anthony groaned, and Fitzwilliam chuckled.

“Seriously, Anthony, I do apologize. Did you care for this person very much? I mean, will you be able to explain to him what happened?”

“That a bloodthirsty, murdering, bastard of a soldier knows our secret? Of course, I am certain he will be thrilled. No, what I will tell him will be some sort of lie, and he’ll believe me because he wants to believe me. He really is a good fellow, you know. I am certain that when he stops to logically consider this, he will find it highly unlikely that I would choose you over him, and he will come back to me.”

They stared at each other silently for a moment.

“I believe I have just been insulted.” Fitzwilliam puffed on his pipe, and they turned to study the fire again, continuing in companionable silence for a time.

Richard was the first to speak. “So, tell me, Carlos, why doesn’t Amanda want me? I can almost understand your rejection of me, but why hers?”

“No, no, no, my dear friend, you are not approaching this the right way. It is not you she is rejecting, although now that I know you better, it would be the path I would recommend.” Fitzwilliam grunted his protest. “No, no, she is restricted by the custody issue of her child, as I have explained to you at least three times by now.” Anthony stubbed out his cheroot and lit another. “Hearing is the second thing lost to old age, or so I am told,” he mumbled under his breath. Fitzwilliam scowled.

“Shall I tell you how I met her?”

“I really wish you would not.”

“Very well, then, I shall. I met her almost directly after her marriage to Augustus…”

“It’s very late. Will this take long?”

“Yes, it will. Be quiet, and maybe you will understand better. Open up that bottle of red substance, whatever it is, and listen. Now you will learn all.”

***

“I knew who Amanda was before even meeting her. As you might suspect, a part of my social life is centered among a rather select and discreet circle of the aristocracy.” Anthony held out his glass for Fitzwilliam to refill. “Amanda’s husband, Augustus, was a well-known, if not particularly well-regarded, figure at many of our social gatherings.”

The room became quiet as a tomb as Anthony allowed that particular revelation to settle. Fitzwilliam’s raised eyebrows were the only indication of his shock. Anthony nodded. “And, Richard, that is something which she must never know.

“He had been involved with another for many years, a devoted couple, as if married in every sense of the word; however, there could obviously never be an heir from their union. It was the incessant harassment from his mother that sent him to America in search of a wife, both mother and son feeling it too dangerous to choose from among the upper classes here and thereby risking exposure. Amanda’s father was physician to one of Penrod’s American relatives, and she would oftentimes accompany him. Augustus requested an introduction, courted her, easily impressing her with his title and manners. She was so very young, unsophisticated by ton standards, but all he really required from her was an heir. In his defense, I believe he did care for Amanda at first, but not in the way she deserved, more like one would love an adorable child or pet. Do not become offended at what I am saying, Colonel, please.” Richard’s eyes had narrowed dangerously. “He also quickly became embarrassed by her.

“I personally grew to know her later, when she came to worship at St. James Chapel on Spanish Place. There are so few places here where Catholics are allowed to worship that we all eventually become acquainted with each other, no matter what status or rank. My own ancestors headed the Spanish Court that founded this same chapel centuries ago, and now I sit beside poor Irish potato farmers and displaced French counts. It is all very odd, but what can one do?

“I found I liked her very much. She was exceedingly spirited, enormously pretty, and quite tenderhearted. We became very close friends, the best of friends. She began to volunteer at the hospital, confiding in me a great deal. She realized she had married in haste without knowing her husband’s true character, said he had grown cold and unfeeling. I knew better than she that her marriage was doomed to failure. When she did begin increasing, it was a huge relief to them both. They could now go their separate ways. In the end, sadly, Augustus turned his back on her and the child, hating them both for the rift that had developed between him and Andre. I am afraid he was very vindictive and harsh.”

Fitzwilliam rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “It makes me heartsore to think she has been so mistreated. I am grateful to you, Anthony, for being a friend to her all these years.”

Anthony shrugged. “I, too, love Amanda, Colonel. She was there for me when no one else came forward. Four years ago, someone I cared for deeply was killed in Portugal. He was a courier for Wellington when he was captured and… tortured. Och! Terrible business—war. It destroys so many more lives than is obvious.” Anthony cleared his throat and continued. “I received a letter telling me that Mario had been killed, telling me how bravely he died. He is… he was, my life.” Tears began to slide down his cheeks, tears which he quickly swiped away.

“I locked myself in this room and cried for hours, the poor servants terrified I would do something rash. My butler, Bascome, sent word to Amanda, and she immediately came.

“I unlocked the door, and she walked in as I threatened to kill myself. I was extremely dramatic in those days.” He laughed softly at the memory, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “ Dios mio, but she was angry with me! By that time, she knew the truth about my life, had lectured me to death about it, and still does, I might add. She was quite forthright with me, saying I was behaving dangerously and that I would soon be exposed by my behavior. She was patient but firm.” He sighed deeply and smiled for a moment.

“I believe it was his mother who prodded Augustus into suing for sole custody of the child, considering Amanda an encumbrance. He accused her of kidnapping their child when she returned to America to nurse her father. Eventually he applied to parliament to sever any privileges she might have. He was actually on his way to America to claim his son when his ship went down.

“It was not until her return to England that she was informed she had lost custody of her child. She was told to either leave the child immediately or risk being imprisoned.

“Well, the child became so hysterical that the mother-in-law had to relent, allowing her to remain. That is where she stands today, a sort of tenant at sufferance, a poor relation. If her mother-in-law even suspects that she has interest in another man, she will consider it a final insult to her son and throw Amanda out.”

After a long time sitting in silence, both staring into the fireplace, Fitzwilliam relit his pipe, stood, and walked toward the windows. It appeared that in a matter of days his universe had changed focus, centering now upon one exasperating but adorable young woman. He resented the people who had laughed and taunted her, evaluated her unfairly, and found her wanting.

And they would never accept Amanda or any other person without the requisite familial associations, proper ancestry, certainly would never acknowledge someone whose family had physically worked to provide hearth and home, even a physician and teacher as her father had been.

“You know, Anthony, I have begun to yearn for a home and a spouse, children.” He puffed on his pipe absently. “I had actually meant to properly court Amanda toward an eventual offer for her hand.” He shook his head sadly.

“No, she would never leave her son, Colonel, not even for you, and she would think a liaison the height of sinfulness. What a coil. You would have made a good husband for her.”

“Who said I won’t marry her?”

Anthony’s lips twitched a little. “Ah, you perhaps also have difficulties with the English language? I seem to have just wasted an inordinate amount of time and energy explaining why she will never marry.”

“I must have missed that. All I heard is that she won’t leave her son, perfectly natural and understandable. I simply won’t ask it of her, but we shall marry.”

At a loss for words, Anthony began to laugh, shaking his head in mild amazement.

They sat for quarter of an hour listening to a gentle rain outside before Fitzwilliam spoke again. “You know I had a similar conversation to this not long ago. My God, was it only weeks ago I swore that I would never marry, that it was something that held no interest for me? What a pompous ass I am.”

Anthony grinned devilishly, and Fitzwilliam cocked one eyebrow in mock hauteur. “May I know the reason for your amusement, sir?”

“I hope I do not offend you; however, I cannot but wish you had a brother I could meet.”

Fitzwilliam’s eyes wrinkled in humor, and he turned to his new friend. “Well, actually, I do have a brother, and we have been wondering why he has no interest in marriage and in producing the requisite heir. I wonder…”

***

“Is all well, your lordship?” The ancient butler, who had fallen asleep in Anthony’s chair, attempted to rise as his master walked into the bedroom’s dressing room.

“Sit, Bascome, rest. Why don’t you pour us both a drink? I have quite an enjoyable tale to tell you.” Anthony allowed his valet to help him shrug out of his jacket.

“I am very sorry that your lordship’s friend left in such an agitated state.”