Laurel Ames - Playing To Win

Kerry and Joshua were married within the month, the groom seeing it as a better alternative than jail. Sera hoped he would be more reconciled to his fate than Tony was to his.

* * *

They spent a somber Christmas. Sera’s father and Lady Jane, now married, had gone to Paris. Their only company were neighbors, mostly Lord Cairnbrooke’s age, who plagued Tony with their advice on estate matters until Sera thought he was ready to bolt. She nodded and listened to the advice of their wives, firmly vowing not to follow any of it. They did raise her consciousness of the poverty of the surrounding hamlets, so she sent a pair of servants one day each week to buy large quantities of bread and vegetables of whatever kind they could find and distribute them to each cottage. Tony got wind of this, and called her into the study to give her a lecture.

“I hear you have been buying food for the poor.”

“You say that like an accusation.”

“You can’t feed them all.”

“But I can feed the closest ones, and hope that our neighbors are embarrassed into doing the same for those closest to them.”

Tony stared at her.

“It might work,” she said defensively.

“They are proud people. They won’t like you for this charity.”

“Why should they like me for a few potatoes and onions? I only want them not to starve.”

“Sera, I can’t afford it,” Tony said regretfully.

“It’s my pin money. I can do with it as I please.”

Tony went rather white about the mouth and said tightly, “Yes, I suppose you can.”

“Unless...unless you need it,” she offered, seeing she had hurt him.

“No! Do as you please. You will anyway.”

Tony realized that, never having been in need or in debt herself, Sera had no inkling what it felt like. As often as she trampled on his feelings in this way, he would manage to overlook it. Whether his tenants would be as generous he had no idea, but he could not bring himself to berate her for her generosity.

He walked out and was gone the whole rest of the day, even though a slicing rain started falling in mid-afternoon.

“He must have taken shelter somewhere, depend on it,” Lady Amanda assured her as she made ready to go up to bed. “He was probably caught miles from home, and is toasting himself in front of a friend’s fire, or at some inn.”

“I’m sure you are right,” Sera said warmly. “But I want to finish this book anyway. I shall come up later.”

It was long past midnight when Tony finally blundered into the hall, rousing a servant to dry and clean his gun. Sera was so glad to know he was alive, she ran to him.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, just fine,” he said with a slur.

“There’s a fire in the drawing room.”

He followed her in and warmed his hands, swaying a little as he stood upright.

“I shall have them heat some food for you.”

“Don’t bother. Most likely I couldn’t keep it down. Too much brandy.”

“But then you should eat something.”

“I don’t want anything, and will you stop trying to run my life?” He collapsed on a chair and tried, unsuccessfully, to pull off his wet boots.

“I’m sorry I’ve ruined your life,” Sera said, coming to tug at the unwilling boots.

“I said run, not ruin, but it amounts to the same thing.”

She stopped her efforts and turned to leave him, hiding the hurt on her face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It’s I who have ruined your life. You got a bad bargain, my dear, but none of this was my idea.”

“Well, you don’t imagine it was mine!” Sera vowed with a spark of anger.

“What?” Tony asked as he sat up and tried to focus on her face. She looked so blurry to him, he could not decide if she was crying or not. “Whose idea was it, then? I can’t remember.”

“Actually, it was Lady Jane’s,” Sera said, getting control of her voice.

“Who is Lady Jane?” Tony tried to rise, but as he had one boot half-off, he stumbled and hopped most ungracefully until he finally fell over a footstool. Sera came resignedly to help him up, but he waved her away and tugged at the offending boot until it finally came off.

“Father’s new wife. I told you, they have been wanting to marry for years. I was very much in their way.”

“But I thought you wanted to marry.”

“No, not particularly.”

“But why me? Surely you could have done better than this,” he said, looking about him as he struggled to his feet.

Sera smiled at him through her tears. “Lady Jane has a liking for you. She thought I might be able to keep you from getting killed in another duel.”

“I suppose Mother and Father had the same thing in mind. Why ever did you agree?” he asked as he leaned on a table.

“I had no intention of doing so. I thought the whole idea was very silly, until I met you. I liked you so much, and we seemed to get on so well, I thought it just might work.”

Tony stood staring at her in disbelief. “On the strength of one meeting?”

“Yes.”

“You are naive.”

“Why did you agree?”

“I was worn down with hurting and feeling guilty about everything. I wasn’t thinking properly.”

“I see. You were deranged,” she said, disappointed.

“I still am.”

“And still feeling guilty?”

“About you, as well, now.”

“Well, stop it,” she commanded. “Stop feeling guilty about me, for I was not deranged when I married you, and I like you still.” She got under his arm to steady him up the stairs. “And stop feeling guilty about your father. You couldn’t have saved him.”

“It’s not that. I never really cared about him until he died and it was too late.”

“You idiot. Don’t you realize everyone feels that sort of regret? They just have less of a conscience about it.”

“What do you mean?” he asked as he gained the door to his room.

“They shake it off and get on with their lives a lot quicker. Don’t you feel you have punished yourself enough?”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“That’s the only thing you are accomplishing.”

“I wish I could see things as clearly as you.”

“I wish you were as easy to talk to sober as you are drunk. Most likely you won’t even remember this conversation in the morning, and I shall be right back where I started.”

Tony laughed weakly and heard a thump from the dressing room that indicated they had awakened his valet. “I shall try to be both more sober and more easy to talk to in the future, and you have my permission to recite this entire conversation to me over breakfast. I know your memory is capable of it.”

“You look suddenly quite pale.”

“That is because I am going to be disastrously sick in a moment, so I wish you would go and leave Stewart to help me.”

“Gladly, and I shall remind you of that, too, if you seem inclined to drink again.”

“You are a heartless woman,” he said as Stewart helped him into his room.

* * *

Tony made a late appearance at breakfast and had weak tea and bread as a palliative for his queasy stomach. “What shall we do today?” he asked Sera.

“If I have not got to recite, I think we should take a drive. Fresh air is good for a headache,” Sera answered.

Lady Amanda looked rather mystified by all this, but declined an invitation to drive. She did wish the children, as she thought of them, would get out from underfoot for a few hours so that she could have the gloomy morning room stripped and get the wallpaper started.

* * *

Lady Amanda was so engrossed in redecorating Oak Park that she might have been content to stay there in February, when Tony began to prepare to return to London. But Lady Amanda felt strongly that all was not right with Tony still, in spite of his somewhat more cheerful manner. When she broached the subject with her new daughter, Sera begged her to come to London with them so sincerely that she could not refuse the girl. If Sera needed her, she must be there to support her.