“No, thank you,” James forces out. “I’ll join you tomorrow. Need to pack, and—” He pauses, thinking.
Albert opens the door, looking back at him, giving him thechoice. It’s not snogging Bobby senseless, but telling Albert would be something, at least.
“I need some time to make a proper apology.”
Albert considers him for a long moment. “You’re going to be good to him, make him happy?” he asks, his voice low and just a hint dangerous.
James doesn’t know quite how he’s going to do it, but like standing up to his stepfather, the choice is finally, ultimately, easy. “Yes,” James says, his chest full. “Yes, I will.”
He’s not going to let anyone, least of all Raverson, take away his chance at true happiness, love, and family. Not again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Bobby
Sitting next to Albie as the train sways below them, light flickering through the windows to cast all six of them in swatches of greens and blues and whites, Bobby can’t figure out what to do with his hands. Because across from him, James Demeroven is sitting in a most ungentlemanly fashion, leaning across the aisle to chat animatedly with Gwen, filling Beth and Meredith in on the bets they’ve agreed to make for the week.
He looks fantastic, in a light linen suit with blue accents that bring out the blue of his eyes. His hair is flopping adorably into his face. And unlike during their horrible standoff in the hallway the week prior, James now looks relaxed and excited. More importantly, far from ignoring Bobby, he blushed when he and Bobby first locked eyes as they got on the train.
Now Bobby doesn’t know what the hell to do with himself. His conversation with Beth roils in his chest as he listens to Gwen and James bounce ideas off one another. They could all have what they want, if only Bobby can be brave enough to reach out and take it—to ask James to marry him. Well, to ask James to marry his cousin, actually, but functionally—
If it were appropriate, he might shout out the request right here, on the train, in their private car, like an undignified schoolboy. But though James blushed, he hasn’t said two words to Bobby so far. Hurt and butterflies war in his stomach, pushing his heart into his throat with a burn that aches. He might combust before they arrive at Southampton.
“I was thinking, if we win all of our bets, we’d at least triple the money your father gave Albert and me, and perhaps we could put that toward expanding the children’s ward at the Foundling Hospital?”
Bobby blinks and the car goes silent, all of them staring at James, who looks around, flushing.
“That’s a lovely idea,” Beth says softly, glancing over at Bobby. “I’m sure it would be of use.”
James’ smile widens and he sits up a little straighter. “And I had thought perhaps we could start a fund to house the children separately from the hospital. In a proper orphanage with lots of space and air and grounds. There must be a manor off in the country we could buy. There’s a... community I could reach out to. Gwen said Lady Ashmond was already working with Thomas Parker.”
Bobby feels his heart skip. “Thomas Parker?”
James looks over at him, almost conspiratorial. “You don’t think his clientele would have interest in funding an orphanage?”
“I—I do,” Bobby says. “It would be an excellent cause and a good bit of public relations.”
“Wouldn’t it just?” James says, his eyes bright, before he turns back to Gwen, Beth, and Meredith.
His ears are ringing. James just mentioned Thomas Parker, like it wasnothing. All the fear and panic that drove him away mere weeks ago, and now he’s mentioning the D’Vere clientele just like that? Whathappened?
“Beth and I will arrange a meeting with Lady Ashmond and Thomas Parker when we’re back,” Gwen says happily. “And we can discuss your roster of physicians then too.”
“I think we should focus on making sure there’s a few Welsh physicians. And if there are any qualified men from abroad as well, the population at the hospital has a lot of immigrants, and it would be wonderful to have physicians who spoke the language and knew their cultures,” Beth says.
“Sounds like we’ll need to put together an international arm of our research, then,” Albie says, stroking Meredith’s hair as she begins to doze on his shoulder. “Bobby, you’d be up for a trip to the Continent, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course,” he says. He’s always wanted an excuse to go on a world tour, but his father would never have approved nor funded such an extravagance. He’s not totally sure where Albie would even get the money, for that matter.
“I bet Cunningham would be willing to join, and I have always wanted a tour year, even if it’s only a few months,” James says, glancing over at him again.
Bobby holds James’ look, full of promise. There’s hesitation there too, but something has changed. He hopes it’s for the better. Even as his bruised and broken heart cautions him to be careful, hehopes. God, he needs the next several blasted hours on this train to pass, now.
By the time they reach the Southampton station and make their way to the hotel, he’s nearly vibrating with nerves and exhaustion. He hasn’t formulated a plan, or a big speech, or anything useful. Instead, all he’s managed to do over the past few hours is work himself up so badly it feels like his tongue is swelling in his mouth.
He hovers at the edge of the hotel foyer, barely taking in the charming wallpaper, brightly lit lamps, or towering bookshelves. It’s a lovely inn, but his stomach is all knots and he’s sweating.
“All right?”
