Free The Offer by Catherine Coulter Page A

with Miss Elliott to continue her concert. Cross your fingers that he will succeed.”
    Miss Elliott broke out into another song, a doleful rendition of a French ballad of the last century. “At least she sings well,” Charles said.
    â€œCome, Charlie, tell me what happened.”

9
    Charles eyed his sister thoughtfully, wondering why he had brought up the matter now, after so many years. Of course he knew why. After their good friend Rohan Carrington, Baron Mountvale, had married, Phillip had fallen into a funk. He’d said once to Charles last fall, “Rohan is happy. Happy. Can you believe it? And Susannah is happy as well. Just maybe sometimes there is something that is honest and good between a man and a woman.”
    Charles said now, “Very well, Margaret, but you must promise to keep this knowledge tucked under your chestnut hair. Most people know a little of what occurred, but not everything. Rohan Carrington is the only other one to know the whole of it.”
    â€œI promise, Charlie.”
    Miss Elliott hit a high F. A champagne goblet trembled on a nearby table.
    â€œPhillip asked Elaine to marry him and she agreed. The date was set for the following April, for no marriage could take place during Phillip’s year of mourning for his father. It is too long ago for you to recall it, but during the fall of 1809 there were many violent skirmishes on the Peninsula. Phillip felt it his duty to rejoin his regiment, over Elaine’s objections. I sometimes wonder,” Charles added, “how we all could have been so wrong. A bloody pack of fools we were.Phillip returned to London on leave in early February to resign his commission and set Dinwitty Manor in order for its new mistress. He had changed somewhat, I can remember thinking that, as if he had been catapulted too quickly into manhood. Remember, he was now only twenty-one years old.”
    â€œYes, a veritable young lad for a gentleman and a spinster for a lady. Grossly unfair.”
    â€œThat’s as may be but not to the point.”
    â€œDo you know, Charles, I have sometimes thought that Phillip’s eyes mirror his deepest thoughts. I’ve seen laughter in his eyes when there was none about his mouth, and sadness too. I’ve never known what to make of it.”
    Charles had no idea what she was talking about. Better yet, he didn’t want to know. He said, “I’ll never forget the night he came to my lodgings on Half Moon Street, vilely drunk, his face so white and set that I thought he’d been in a battle with the devil himself. I was scared to death.” Charles spoke more slowly now as he remembered Phillip’s young face, his mouth flattened in bitter humiliation, his eyes cold and dead, mirroring his disillusion. He could still hear his voice, cold as ice. “Elaine wants to wed now, Charlie, not in April as we had planned.”
    Charles had stared at his friend. What to say to that? Phillip was so young. None of his friends wanted him to wed. He said carefully, “Is it that she missed you more than you had believed? Surely this is a good sign.”
    Phillip’s laugh was low and mean. “Miss me? God, that’s a rare jest. Give me a glass of brandy, Charles, and be quick about it.”
    Silently, Charles moved to the sideboard, poured brandy from the crystal decanter, and handed it to his friend. Phillip tipped the brandy down his throat and,with a growl of fury, hurled the empty glass toward the grate, where it shattered.
    Charles was now seriously frightened. “Dear God, Phillip, what happened? What’s wrong with you?”
    The viscount raised his eyes and said in a voice so flat and soft that Charles had to lean close to make out his words, “Elaine—my Ice Maiden—is pregnant, my friend. It took me quite a while to pry it out of her. Rest assured that I’m not the father.”
    Charles reeled back on his heels. “But