An Earl’s Broken Heart by Ella Edon
Chapter Nineteen
The streets were cold and unaccommodating, but Alexander was in no mood to sit at Michael’s home. Tonight, he wanted to take his mind far away from Isabel.
He climbed back into his carriage and directed his coachman to cross over into St. James Square where his favorite gentleman’s club could be found.
Winman’s Gentleman’s Club occupied was a place where Alexander could drink and gamble to his heart’s delight. He had never been a heavy drinker but the roaring emotions within had invested in him a desire to find a state of nothingness for a time. Strong drink seemed the only gateway to a semblance of reprieve from the feelings that had so tormented him. Winman’s was neither the most exclusive nor the most unsavory establishment in London. It occupied a happy middle ground in London’s social circle. It made no bones about being a place that catered to people from all walks of life and long before being bequeathed the Earldom of Carter, Alexander had known that both Doorman and Duke were welcome at Winman’s so long as they were in possession of the silver token of membership stamped by the manager of the club, Mr. Samuel Winman.
Alexander happened to be in possession of one such token of membership. The last time he had been to Winman’s had been under similar circumstances: the night before he went into service to his country. Still roiling from the bitter pain of Isabel’s rejection, he had sought solace in the revelry of Winman’s gambling floor. It had worked then albeit with the disbenefit that he could scarcely remember the night, but he knew that for a time that night he had forgotten his problems. Tonight, he would need to do the same to run far away from everything. Everyone.
His coachman drew rein beneath the club’s triumphal arch and Alexander straightened his tailcoat before dismounting. Almost as soon as he alighted from the carriage, the low scent of brandy and bravado affronted him. If he wanted to drink his problems away, Winman’s was the place to be for the night.
He produced his silver token and nodded to the doorman politely. At the sight of the flash of silver, the doorman opened the door with a bow and held it open. Alexander greeted the waiting attendant who took his coat and darted down the stairs. He bit the inside of his cheek as he came to the foot of the stairs and entered the room. It was as he remembered and imagined. There were a good many people indulged in all stages of gambling and drinking. The main cellar was decorated with gilded Grecian columns and pilasters, glimmering medallions, and very large mirrors. Paintings of storied gentlemen of ages past stared down approvingly from their perches on the wall. Light was provided exclusively by elaborate cut-glass luster which carried a soft candlelight glow.
The most earnest of the gamblers at Winman’s occupied the tables at the far end of the red-carpeted dais on the upper end of the room. That was where the most fun was to be had.
Alexander approached the dais with an anticipatory slant to his walk. Once he had mounted the dais, he slid into the first table he saw. The game was vingt-et-un and the players about the table looked like they had their minds set on a gentle game. Alexander joined the table and, the simple truth was, he was no good at it. Before long, he was getting beaten like a dusty carpet. He didn’t mind. He had wagered only the smallest amounts and stood no risk of losing a fortune. Winning was not the object of his adventure, only a good time.
A passing attendant offered a glass of brandy and Alexander heartily obliged, knocking the drink back with a single gulp. The first taste hit him like a slap and his smile widened.
“Unlucky, my Lord,” said the waistcoated attendant from his podium on the other side of the table. He swiped Alexander’s bet from the table as he lost another hand. He took another drink from a passing attendant and knocked it back with a sharp snap of his wrist.
He nodded to the attendant and rose from the table. The liquor was beginning to do its work and the thoughts of Isabel were starting to fade. He ventured to another table where two men were sat in preparation for a game of Whist.
“May I join you?” Alexander enquired of the two men.
The taller of the men nodded. “You may indeed. Have you a partner?”
Alexander shook his head. “Unfortunately not, perhaps another player would like to join us.”
The taller man nodded. “We shall wait then. Forgive me, my name is Thomas Sutton and this my good friend Edward Floodwater.”
“Alexander Steward.”
He did not want to arouse their interest by divulging his full title. Though there was an unspoken code of secrecy amongst the members of Winman’s, it was not uncommon for gossip to travel from within its hallowed walls to the very highest reaches of the peerage. For all he knew Messrs, Sutton and Floodwater may have been Lords themselves. They certainly dressed the part.
“May I join you?” Came a voice from behind.
Alexander glanced back. It was none other than Michael Follet, his friend and solicitor.
Alexander snorted and looked away.
“Indeed, you may,” offered Mr. Sutton.
Michael took the seat and muttered under his breath. “I knew I would find you here.”
Alexander turned to him and whispered. “Then why didn’t you leave me be? Is it a crime to visit a gentleman’s club on account of leisure?”
Michael shook his head. “It’s high time you go back home, Alex, you cannot run from your emotions forever.”
Alexander ignored the question and looked to Mr. Sutton. “Shall we begin?”
Sutton nodded and began to deal the cards. The game was played at ferocious pace and Sutton and Floodwater proved themselves to be equally fierce players. They played for pitifully low stakes and Alexander found that his plan was working after all. Isabel remained far from his mind.
In between the second and third rounds, Michael stared at him, his face a picture of earnest concern. He gestured for him to turn from the table to speak in private. “I used to envy you, Alexander. The way you had this mysterious ability to put aside your pains and do what you thought was right. I can’t imagine what has brought you to this place. You’ve never been a drinker or even a gambler for that matter.”
Alexander gave a sardonic smile. “I am glad to have lost your envy. It was no benefit to me in the past.”
“Go home, Alexander, my carriage outside can take you.”
Alexander fixed him with a blank stare. “If I have been such a burden on you, please forgive me. Tonight, I will leave for an alternative accommodation and will no longer prevail upon your generosity and favor.”
“That’s not what this is about, Alex! You could stay with me forever and it would not stretch my patience an inch. My concern is for your marital home. You cannot leave your wife like this, what will people say?”
“People will say whatever they want. It has nothing to do with me.”
Michael’s face fell as though utterly disturbed to receive Alexander’s words. “Well, if that is the case, you leave me no choice.” He nodded to one of the attendants at the far end of the room and the attendant disappeared behind a red curtain. Alexander watched this with a hint of suspicion but said nothing.
After their third hand they decided to call an end to the game.
Alexander bowed to Mr. Sutton and Mr. Flood. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I have greatly enjoyed your company.”
The two gentlemen rose and nodded politely.
A servant passed idly by and charged Alexander’s glass. In a swift motion, Michael scooped the glass up and placed it back on the servant’s tray.
“That’s enough for you, I think,” Michael whispered.
Alexander glanced at him with narrowed eyes. “What are you, my mother?”
Michael smiled. “I may not be your mother, but I know the closest thing to her.”
Alexander quirked an eyebrow and studied Michael. “Whom? Isabel?”
“Not quite, come with me.”
He led Alexander outside where an ornate carriage lay in wait. At the sight of Michael, the footman drew the carriage door open. Alexander peered inside to see who was waiting in the carriage. At the sight of her, his heart lurched forward violently.
“Cousin Emily,” he exclaimed, bowing with profound supplication. “What are you doing here?”
“Michael wrote to me to come, and I heard you were recently married. I did not receive an invitation.”
Alexander swallowed. “It was done in haste, Cousin. I had none of my own in attendance save for Michael.”
His cousin narrowed her eyes. “That is one of a number of matters for which I will not hear your excuses, Cousin. Shall we find a private room to discuss?”
Alexander nodded. “Of course.”
He stepped into the carriage and sat opposite his cousin Emily. She was a most formidable woman, slight and narrow at the shoulder but possessed of an air of command which allowed her to get her way more often than not. She was older but moved with the youthful spry of a woman half her age. Her marriage to one Lord Branthwaite had only added the wealth to her already luxurious aura. She was the closest thing to a mother that Alex had ever had, and she was completely right; there was no excuse for not making sure she was in attendance at the wedding.
Michael began to slowly close the carriage door to leave them in privacy. “I’ll be…” He trailed off, leaving the sentiment incomplete.
“You’ll be somewhere close, Michael,” said his cousin.
“Of course, my Lady,” Michael said, favoring her with a bow before departing.
She drew in a deep breath and eyed Alexander with consternation. He waited in silence for her to speak.
“Why did you come here, Alexander?”
“To enjoy myself,” Alex said.
“Why are you not at Carter Manor? With your wife?”
Alexander let out a breath. He couldn’t keep much from his cousin. He had to tell her the truth.
“I’m afraid, Cousin Emily.”
“Afraid of what?”
He hesitated before speaking and let a long silence pass. “Of being hurt.”
“That’s not true. You’ve never been afraid of being hurt. Dare I say you’ve always been too brave. You enrolled without the faintest concern for being hurt.”
“This is different,” Alexander said, studying the floor. “My wife, Isabel. She hurt me once and I fear she will do it again.”
“I used to flick you about the ears when you were young. But you did not stay away from me though you surely feared I would do it again. Never have I seen a relationship of any sort where harm was not dealt one to another. We are all human. What matters is that through love and entreaty we are able to heal, forgive, and find our way back despite the fear.”
“I cannot forgive this, Cousin Emily. This I cannot forgive.”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “When you have lived as long as I have, you learn that there is always room for more forgiveness.” She put an arm on his shoulder. “Go home to your wife, Alexander, I will take no other answer from you. I cannot stay here long for I must return to my husband but when the time is right, I will come to visit you in the hope that you and your wife have found a way to forgive. That is how we were raised, Alex, not to be hard-hearted but to be supple.”
Alexander gritted his teeth stubbornly, but he respected his cousin too much to argue further. “I will return home, but I cannot promise to forgive. Not yet.”
She smiled as she rose to leave. “You will see in time. I know you will.”
Alexander watched her leave and let out a heavy breath. He did not agree with her entirely, but he allowed all the emotions he had fought to come flooding back. He still wanted to see Isabel’s face again and fill his ears with her voice. Try as he might he could not run away from the truth of his abiding desire. Forgiveness, however, was not on the cards. He had been made to look and feel once. Never again. He would return home but would never return to being a fool.