He no longer had his buoyant personality or his sister. Henry wasn’t even acquainted with his own niece or Karrington’s sons. And the woman he once loved was lost to him forever.
He would have failed her as he had failed Amelia, but he wasn’t that man anymore.
There were two swift knocks on his cabin door before it opened and in walked his friend, Elijah Edwards. He stood tall and knowingly in the doorway, his dark skin a contrast to the crisp white room.
“Another nightmare?” Elijah’s deep voice pierced through the fog of his mind. Obsidian eyes could see into Henry’s very heart. “I thought they had become less of a burden?”
Although born in Sierra Leone, there was little hint of Elijah’s native tongue from his years working at sea. Over the two years Henry had known him, the man had become closer to him than anyone, except perhaps the Duke of Karrington, who was more brother than friend.
Henry met Elijah six months after he departed London. He had spent all of the pin money he allowed himself to have and found work on a ship bound for Jamaica. After serving in the Royal Navy for over twenty years, Elijah had become Second Mate on theSeahorse, where they became close friends.
“Bugger off,” Henry muttered in annoyance. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He rose and shook his head, trying to forget about the dream that had plagued him since the day after Amelia’s death. He had no intention of discussing something that still made him feel weak.
Elijah ignored him with a cheery smile on his smooth, dark face. “It will continue to haunt you, because you refuse to speak of it. One day you will have to let it out, Henry.” He pointed his long index finger, his jaw set.
“I’ve dealt with it. I’m coming home because I’m no longer that damned wounded person!” Henry slammed his hand down on the small dresser. He couldn’t believe he was still affected by it three years later. He felt like a damn child.
“You’re no longer that person I met in Spain, but the loss of a family member is always great. I know that more than anyone. Their death can linger over you for years.” Elijah tilted his head to the side as if he was surveying Henry for damage. “But for now, you need to get dressed. We’ve arrived.” He folded his large arms over his chest. “Are you sure your mother won’t mind me? I can find some other accommodations.”
“It’s my home and you’re my friend. She has no choice but to accept you,” Henry growled. He didn’t want to deal with his mother and her particular disposition.
He’d dealt with it all of his godforsaken life, smiling and agreeing with everything she told him, even scorning his only sister for years. The year he befriended Amelia and stood up to his mother had felt good. The following Season it was Lady Julia. His mother had despised the match, but God, did Henry want Julia from the moment he saw her.
A pang of regret pierced his heart as blue eyes as clear as the morning sky filled his mind.
Julia.
“I just wish you would’ve warned her. It’s not every day a free black man comes home with her white son. It is bound to be a bit of a shock.” Elijah placed his hand on the doorknob.
“It doesn’t matter. You are my guest, and without you, I wouldn’t be here. Now, do you plan to stay and watch me dress?”
“No, you’re too ugly for me. I like women who are so dark and beautiful they look like they were kissed by the sun.” Elijah released a deep hearty laugh that filled the small cabin as he left.
Henry laughed, glad he had Elijah with him these past years. His own company had quickly become tiresome. Now they were back in London, under the ever-watchful eye of London’s society at the height of the Season.
God help them.
Henry gazed out the small window above the wash basin. The cool water removed the last sleep from his eyes but did little to ease his mind.
London. He was finally home after running away from his nightmares.
The day after Karrington’s wedding, Henry had finally been well enough to leave everything behind. Boarding a ship bound for India, he had stayed and toured the country for months. He had drowned himself in liquor and strange women before boarding another ship, this one bound for Spain. He then boarded theSeahorsewhere he met Elijah. Before the ship reached Jamaica, they encountered a hurricane. If Elijah hadn’t saved him, he would’ve perished in the Caribbean Sea.
Now, he was back, and he did not know what awaited him. He could no longer run from what he left behind. He had to take control over his own life. He had a niece he didn’t know, and surely his title and the estates needed his attention. His uncle had no head for running their ancestral lands, but Henry had granted him full authority upon his departure.
An unsettling feeling had settled in the pit of Henry’s stomach over the past year. The news that Baron Bromswell was going to hang for the murder of his sister had reached him. It was one of the many reasons it was time for him to return home. He needed to watch the life drain from the despicable creature with his own eyes.
His mind wandered to his former betrothed. Surely, the damage to her reputation was not so permanent. It was Julia after all, and she could handle anything. It was time for him to stop running and take control of his life and duties.
Henry dressed quickly, grateful that he still had the function of his hands. The doctor had said he was lucky there was no lasting damage. Thankfully, gloves hid the sight of his failure.
Staring out of the small window, he noticed that the docks were bustling even in the depth of night. His heart sped up, his hands shook, and he could feel sweat at the nape of his neck. Henry couldn’t help the trepidation and excitement that spread throughout his body at being back.
Once a rare diamond, now a jilted wallflower, how does Lady J live with herself? Better yet, how will she handle the dashing marquess being back in her life?
Lady Julia St. John loathed everything about society and the London Season. It was a strange occurrence to be sure, as just three years past she had absolutely loved it. Everything about the Season had captured her young, naïve mind. She had been eager to please, impatient to marry, and anxious to be a part of society for once, and she had been.
For a tiny perfect moment, it seemed that Julia had everything she had ever wished for. Society adored her, and she had the handsomest fiancé in all of London. There was nothing she could not do; no one that would not receive her. She was envied by all. Every lady wanted to be her, gaping at her when she passed on the arm of the Marquess of Heartford. They wondered what it was about the St. John ladies that caught the attention of society’s most desirable bachelors.
