Charlotte squeezed his fingers. Ned’s fears were unfounded. John had made peace with staying in England. They’d spent the past few days planning a future together, one split between London and their country estates. John would never be comfortable in the social whirl, but the image they’d painted together of their future was one that met both their needs—a happy compromise.
“I shall not leave you, brother. And John will not ask it of me. You’ll see.”
***
Dancing with Lady Hastings and Lady Pembroke was almost as uncomfortable as arguing with Wilde. In stark contrast to the duke, both women made it very clear they approved a match between John and their friend, and that they expected a proposal imminently. Their hints were not remotely subtle. His assurances that yes, hedidthink Charlotte the most beautiful, most elegant, most amusing woman in the room were not sufficient for either of them. Neither would let up, yet he would not spoil Charlotte’s opportunity to tell her friends the news herself.
His only recourse was to escape to the card room earlier than planned. It was full to the brim. One table was crammed with younger bucks who seemed hell-bent on getting as drunk as possible as early as possible. The other table was more reserved—no doubt because at its head, flanked by footmen in elaborate livery, sat the king.
John was about to turn and leave when the sovereign caught his eye, raised an eyebrow, and whispered to a man who stood at his shoulder. The man studied John for a moment and whispered back. The king crooked his finger in John’s direction.
No one ignored a royal summons.
Footmen raced to find an extra chair. The other men at the table scowled and shuffled their seats to make room. Taking a deep breath, John crossed to the table and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty.”
“Viscount Harrow. Sit.”
John inclined his head and took the empty seat, throwing a banknote into the pot and accepting a stack of chips from Lord Haddington. He murmured his acknowledgments to the other men at the table, and they nodded in return.
Many of them he knew only by sight; Charlotte had been giving him a who’s who at each gathering they attended. One though, Dickey Trembly, Lord Rhinehurst, had been John’s peer at school. They’d shared a dormitory, and if John had realized Dickey was at the table, he would have left the room, the king’s presence be damned.
Rhinehurst had been the most awful of John’s tormentors. From the moment John had stumbled over his words on arrival until the day he left Oxford, Dickey had made his life a living nightmare. It hadn’t stopped at verbal insults. Dickey had been quite a talented artist. The caricatures he had drawn and posted around various dorm rooms had emboldened others to partake in the teasing.
It’s been twenty years. People change. You changed. No one will misbehave in the presence of their sovereign.
John raised his glass in Rhinehurst’s direction, an olive branch of sorts, though it turned his stomach. The cruel smirk he received in return set his heart thudding.
Oblivious to the undercurrent, the grey and stately Lord Haddington continued the conversation John had interrupted. “If we can get them both to agree, we have a good chance at passing the resolution before the session ends.”
Another gentleman shook his head as he picked up the deck of cards and began to deal. “Passed or not, the resolution will have no impact if we don’t have the Americans on our side, and their lawmakers are less in love with the British aristocracy than the wealthy cits we see in London.”
The king sniffed. “What are your thoughts, Harrow? You’ve spent time in the Americas recently. What do they truly think of your sovereign?”
Rhinehurst smirked at the difficult position John found himself in. “Yes, Harrow. You’ve spent more time in the Americas than the rest of us c-c-combined.”
All heads turned in John’s direction. He tried not to let Rhinehurst’s mockery affect him, but his jaw shut tight, and his tongue locked behind his teeth.
The king regarded him with heavy expectation.Hell.John picked up the cards that had been dealt and studied them, taking it as a moment to gather his thoughts and work his jaw so that he could respond. He would give the truth, even if it displeased the most powerful man in Europe. “They believe the new world and the old world should remain separate hemispheres, Your Majesty.”
The words came out slowly, too slowly. He likely sounded like a simpleton. But at least they came out clearly. He took a deep breath, trying to relax his body. He could do this.
The king’s lips pursed. “That is…disappointing.”
Haddington grunted. “But not unexpected. How will they react to this proposition?”
John rolled his shoulders, trying to shift the enormous weight that threatened to suffocate him. “Any European country that attempts to gain influence in the Americas, north or south, will be strongly op-p-posed.”
Rhinehurst snorted at his misstep.
Damn.One stutter always led to another. It was a blasted loop that, once started, was almost impossible to break free of. He could go days without tripping over his words, but the moment he felt under pressure, his old self came back.
The king’s expression darkened, and John prepared himself for the royal’s wrath. The rest of the table stilled, no cards or tokens moving as the congregation waited for the king’s response.
Eventually, the king looked at his hand and threw in an absurd number of tokens. “I appreciate your honesty, Harrow, though your comments displease me. I cannot lay the fault of that sentiment at your door.”
John let out a long breath. The rest of the table loosened and the game resumed. Haddington dropped his cards on the table. “I fold,” he muttered. He signaled to a nearby footman, who offered a tray of cigars. “You know,” he said, looking at John. “I’ve yet to see you at the Lords.”
John twisted his brandy glass. “Managing my brother’s affairs has consumed much of my t-time.” The truth was, he didn’t feel worthy of his spot at Westminster. Walter was always supposed to be the one with the power. He was the one born to it. John was a poor substitute with a head for science, not politics.
