Page 18 of Stay Here Forever

“I’m glad you’re here. Mail has been piling up for you, I was just about to send it over.” Stephen signaled to the footman who had ushered Luke in, and he left to retrieve the missives.

Luke looked around and took in the changes. It had been years since he’d sat in this room, still belonging to his father at that time. Stephen had added his own touches, a few less dreary landscapes and additional bookshelves, but it still felt familiar.

“Took you long enough to make your presence known. Been too busy out and about town with Miss Jacobs? There is buzz about the two of you being seen together. It seems you’ve been occupied since we chatted last week.”

Luke sat back and eyed his brother. He couldn’t determine whether he was mocking him or being supportive. “I have been enjoying Miss Jacobs, and I plan to spend a lot more time with her.” Stephen stayed silent but lifted a brow. “Does that concern you?”

“Not at all. She may have a bit of a reputation, but none of it is truly detrimental. Though people view her as an odd duck, as far as I can tell, they have no real opposition to her. She’s simply had bad luck, being jilted and all. But everyone understands that her family’s prospects have changed.”

“Yes, I’ve learned all about that, and believe me when I tell you that Miss Jacobs is not to blame. She’s been neglected and disregarded by those closest to her. But I’ll not allow it any longer.”

“Ah. So it’s love then, is it?” Stephen looked at him pointedly after his passionate defense, and Luke realized that indeed it was, though he’d yet to name it himself. A smile grew across his face as the footman reentered carrying a small stack of letters, a maid following behind with a tea tray.

Quickly identifying the senders to see what might be of import, Luke halted at the penultimate letter in the stack. It looked official, and he had a sinking feeling that it might be new orders. Quickly ripping open the dispatch, he paled as he read through his next assignment.

“Bad news?” Stephen asked, reading the despair on his face.

“New orders. They want to send me to India, and quickly.”

“That’s a good assignment, is it not? Our presence is growing there every day.”

Luke shook his head and stared at the directions before him. When he first arrived back in England, he’d been anxiously anticipating this letter, wanting to go somewhere new, needing a fresh start, far from everything he’d witnessed during Napoleon’s reign. But everything had changed. He didn’t want to leave again. He wanted time with Audrey, to see what they could be to one another as she resolved her feelings and worked through all she’d learned. And the idea of venturing to India made a sinking feeling open in his belly.

“I don’t know if I can go,” he whispered. “I’m not sure I can accept this directive.”

Stephen was looking at him with concern. “Is this because of Miss Jacobs? It’s not like you to turn away from your duty so easily.”

“No. Yes—I mean, partially. I am anxious to see what could develop with Audrey, and I don’t like the idea of leaving again so quickly, but . . . I don’t know. Something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m not sure I would be comfortable advocating for what we are doing there.”

Stephen gave him a puzzled look, and Luke took a minute to organize his thoughts and let alone find the right words to express them.

“I haven’t told you much about what I saw on the peninsula and at Waterloo. But the past years have changed me. I can’t help but feel that some of my actions and advice led to the meaningless death of so many, and for what? I’ve been struggling with that, but at the end of the day, I feel our cause was just and the work I did necessary. Napoleon was trying to march into sovereign lands, and it could not go unchecked.”

Stephen was nodding along. “What you did was absolutely in service to the King and our allies. You were ensuring the threat wouldn’t reach British shores. I’m sure it was difficult, I can’t imagine what you experienced, but what you did was commendable.”

“And that’s why, as difficult as it was, I can still look at myself in the mirror.” He walked over to their father’s side table where liquor had been kept and was relieved to see it was one part of the room Stephen hadn’t changed. Picking up the Scotch whiskey, he added a splash to his teacup. Stephen held out his own, and Luke obliged.

“I can’t help but feel that our ambitions in India are no different than what Napoleon attempted, waltzing into someone else’s country and claiming it to be under your control. Why is it suddenly acceptable for us to impose our will simply because we are the ones acting with authority? I’m not sure I can serve on Britain’s behalf for this cause.”

Stephen took a long draught of his spirited tea before setting the cup carefully in its saucer. “Many wouldn’t take kindly to such thoughts, brother. The general belief is that we are bringing civility to India and helping those who fall under the Commonwealth.”

“Civility by whose standards? It just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Then perhaps it is time to resign from your position. You won’t fare well if you feel ill at ease about your duty.”

Luke leaned back and rubbed his eyes. He needed to make a decision, but now wasn’t the time. Picking up his teacup, he raised it in salute to his brother and downed the contents.

A few hours later, Luke reentered the Kent flat, uncertain about the assignment but relaxed after an enjoyable afternoon with his brother. He was hopeful Audrey would turn up soon and that Rufus’s letter wasn’t too upsetting. He wasn’t sure when he had changed so drastically from his old friends, but neither was a man he could respect any longer based on the way they’d disregarded Audrey.

Walking into the sitting room, he saw a letter had been left on his desk. Picking it up, he noted there was no sender listed, only his name written on the outside of the packet. Breaking the seal, he swiftly flipped through the pages to see the name at the end, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of Audrey’s.

My darling Luke,

I sometimes find it easier to express myself through writing, so I’ve sat down to try and find a way to arrange my thoughts into some semblance of order and explain to you how I feel.

First, I cannot thank you enough for these past weeks. You’ve helped me feel more alive again than I have felt in years.

You see, I was stuck in a holding pattern, waiting, and I sometimes feared I’d be forced to stay there forever, frozen in the memory of life in 1804 though so much changed as the years marched on. But that memory wasn’t true—it was fantasy, an idealized version of Rufus that I created, separate from the reality of who his actions proved him to be. I was too weak to deal with that reality and shut out everything else, clinging to the hope that he still loved me and would return. I would not listen to the rational part of myself that knew it had been too long, that something was wrong. And as we now know, Felix never tried to dissuade me from my misbeliefs.