Page 92 of The Duke's Impossible Deal
“It is being repaired. A tree crashed through the roof, and the repairs have been rather extensive.” Rowen poured herself a glass of whiskey.
James furrowed his brow. “So you moved in with Rothwell?”
“That does tend to happen when one gets married, yes.” Rowen arched an eyebrow at him.
“You are married? To my sister?” James gaped at Tobias. “Good Lord. I thought it was a silly rumor, but it is true.”
“You asked me to look after her should anything happen to you.” Tobias did not look at Rowen. “We thought you were dead.”
“I did not think you would marry her.” James shook his head in disbelief.
“And what did you think he would do?” Rowen eyed her brother narrowly.
James shrugged. “I suppose I had not really given it much thought.”
“Typical.” Rowen threw her hands up in the air. “You never think anything through.”
James took a step back. “I wanted to make sure you were taken care of, and it seems like that is what has happened. So really, it has all worked out.”
Rowen’s nostrils flared. “James, we all thought you were dead, and now you have the gall to pretend like all is merry. None of us has heard anything about you. We have not received any letter—nothing. You turned my life, my children’s lives,allof our lives upside down, and then you have the gall to be glib about it?”
“Rowen…” Tobias moved towards her, but she shook her head.
“No, he does not get to smile his way out of this. You called in so many favors trying to find him. You have worked tirelessly to find out what happened, and now we learn that he is not even dead!” Rowen shook her head. “I cannot tell if I am relieved to see you or if I want to kill you. Where have you been?”
“Falmouth.” James coughed and sank onto an armchair. “And I know that this has been rather a lot for all of you, but it has not been easy for me either.”
“I think you should tell us the full story, Jenkins. Ro—Your sister is right to be upset.” Tobias gestured for them all to take a seat,sipping his whiskey as he did. “I have received no reports of any aristocrat being washed ashore nor of one being under any kind of care.”
He had taken great pains to describe the clothes he knew James preferred to wear, and to give the men a general description of his friend.
Though that was before he bore these scars, and who knows what kind of state he was in when he was washed ashore?
He should have been more thorough.
He had let himself get distracted.
James tugged on his collar. “Ah, well, you would not have received such reports. You see, the night the ship went down, I was dressed as a commoner. We were planning to go ashore, and well, things tend to be a little more enjoyable in seaside towns when they think you are one of them. So I convinced one of the crew to lend me his clothes.”
“I see,” Tobias said.
“As we neared the Cornish coast, the storm kicked up—you know how treacherous those waters can be. We struck rocks, and the boat started to sink.” James took a sip of his whiskey, and Tobias noticed the way his hands shook. “I do not remember much of that night. I thought I was going to die. The water was so cold. Men were screaming.”
He let out a shaky breath. “They found me clinging to some driftwood and brought me into one of the locals’ homes. I was delirious. In and out of fever.” A shadow crossed his face. “I do not know what was real and what was false. I scarcely knew my own name. Fever wracked my body, and I grew weaker and weaker. In that part of the country, things move more slowly. They thought I was dying. Hell,Ithought I was dying. But a week or so ago, the fever broke, and my body finally started to heal.”
“That was why you did not write to us,” Tobias said numbly. “You were too sick.”
“I did write to you a few days ago, but I seem to have beaten the letter here.” James scratched his beard. “It has been a difficult time convincing people of who I am, though. So it may simply be that they never delivered the thing. I only managed to make the journey here because one of the farmers had to come up to London and offered to give me a lift. I stopped trying to convince people of who I am, eventually, lest they think me a madman.”
“Well, if you shaved that thing on your face, it might have helped your cause.” Rowen wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, you look like a mad hermit.”
“I rather like it.” James grinned at her, then coughed and rubbed his chest. “Truth be told, I feared that I would slit my own throat if I tried to shave. This damned cough just will not go away.”
Tobias’s chest tightened. His friend had nearly died. How could he have been so foolish? He should have broadened the search, should have gone down to Cornwall to visit the survivors.
Why did I not do that?
His eyes drifted to Rowen, and a chill crept into his bones.
