Robert took another blissful sip of his drink.
First, his fiancée, Charlotte Walker, had run off with his cousin. A few years later, his good friend Charles Townsbridge – nay, Charles’s sister, Athena – had broken up his wedding at the church in front of all creation, claiming his bride loved Charles instead. And then, when Robert’s life was finally starting to gain a bit of equilibrium again, his father had died, leaving behind a crushing amount of debt. His own financial situation at the time had not been the best, so the last thing he’d needed was more worry.
At least his financial troubles were starting to ease a little. As for the rest...
According to what he’d learned, Charlotte was desperately unhappy with a husband who liked to drown himself in a bottle of brandy each evening. Robert couldn’t say he was sorry to hear it. She’d treated him abominably.
Charles Townsbridge, on the other hand, was happily married. And while Robert didn’t exactly harbor ill will toward him or his wife, Bethany, a part of him envied the perfect life they’d made for themselves. It really wasn’t fair that he, who’d been wronged, had suffered the most.
Crossing to the window, he glanced out at the dreary landscape, at the leafless branches reaching toward the sky as if begging for spring to dress them. Bethany should have been his. He’d met her first, proposed, and gained her hand. Hell, he’d stood with her before the priest on the very cusp of making her his when Athena, that blasted hoyden of a child, had ruined it all. She might have meant well, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d made a mockery of him. The articles and caricatures he’d seen in the papers for several weeks after confirmed it. No experience had ever been more emasculating. Fresh on the heels of Charlotte’s betrayal, the situation had been insufferable to say the least.
Robert blew out his breath and forced an inner calm upon himself. This was all in the past. Six years lay between the man he’d been then and the one he was now. He’d come to terms with what had happened, had finally moved on.
Perhaps, he considered while watching a cluster of birds scatter across the greying sky, it was time to start thinking of marriage once more. A nerve ticked in his jaw at the thought. Very well. Perhaps he’d wait a while yet.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Enter!” Robert turned to face his butler with the impatience of a man who wished to be left alone. “Yes?”
“You have a visitor, my lord,” Dartwood said in an even tone. He raised his chin ever so slightly, then added, “She says her name is Miss Athena Townsbridge.”
Robert’s grip tightened on his glass. Every muscle in his shoulders and back knotted in defiance. His jaw clenched. What the hell was she doing here?
“Offer her some refreshments. Then send her on her way.” He turned his back on Dartwood. “Let me know when she’s gone.”
“Very well, my lord.” The door closed with a snick.
Robert closed his eyes and forced himself to exhale a slow breath. Between the burden of holding onto his properties, taking care of his tenants, and figuring out how to pay the taxes and his servants’ wages, the very last thing he needed was for that Townsbridge brat to show up and complicate things even further. Good God! He inhaled slowly – deep calming breaths to undo the tension and infuse some calm – and exhaled.
Athena had been what, three years of age the first time he’d met her? He’d been thirteen. It had been summer and Charles had invited him home to visit his family for the holidays. Robert had joined Charles on several similar occasions in the years that followed. He remembered Athena whispering secrets in her older sister, Sarah’s, ear. She’d balanced along the top of the property fence when she was eleven. One day, she’d arrived for supper covered in mud because of a tumble she’d taken. At twelve she’d harpooned a fish using a spear she’d whittled. Her triumphant smile from that long ago day was still branded in his mind.
He shook his head. Athena Townsbridge was a tempestuous handful, as evidenced by her lack of regard for propriety.Bethany and Charles are in love with each other, but they are prepared to sacrifice their happiness for you. Her words had been loud and clear, unwaveringly bold. He couldn’t remember much from the moments that followed, except for her face, her mouth set in a firm line, eyes blazing with fierce determination.
And then he’d punched Charles, because he sure as hell couldn’t punch Athena.
Another knock sounded at the door.
“Yes?”
“My apologies, my lord,” Dartwood said, “but the lady refuses to leave without having met with you first.”
Damn.
Robert downed the rest of his drink and set his tumbler aside with a clank. “Have her make an appointment then, for the day after never.”
Dartwood made a choked sort of sound. Robert raised an eyebrow.
“I shall pass the message along,” Dartwood said and departed once more. He returned ten minutes later looking more perplexed than Robert had ever seen him. “My lord. It would appear that the lady refuses to budge.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She will not leave her chair.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
“Shall I ask the footmen to carry her outside?”
Robert scrubbed his palm across his brow. Why couldn’t his life be simple and free from complications? Why did Athena Townsbridge, of all women in the entire world, have to be the very one who decided to pay him a visit?
