Of Moths & Butterflies by V.R. Christensen

Author:V.R. Christensen [Christensen, V.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-06-16T12:40:17+00:00

Chapter forty

RCHER ARRIVED IN London. How he got there was something of a mystery to him. He had gone to the station out of habit. As though he were some automaton, he had boarded the train. Once arrived, and without thinking, his legs carried him to the entrance of his club. But what was he to do here? He had no allowance to gamble away. What he possessed, everything he possessed, was hers. His by law, yes. But his uncle’s to direct and dispose of as he saw fit. It was what he had agreed upon just to have her. It was what was required of him. To pay the debts. To restore the house, and the family, to the image of respectability. Would there be anything left when they had finished?

Great day, what had he done? He had not bought her. That would have been more honourable than the truth. No, he had sold her. He had stood by and allowed her to be sold. No wonder she could not trust him. Perhaps it was too much to expect she ever should.

Standing, blind, numb and bewildered in the foyer of the New Saxon Gentleman’s Club, Archer at last realised that a question had been put to him. Blinking, he awoke and turned to the porter standing beside him.

“Is there anything I might do for you, sir?”

“No,” Archer answered. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You’ve come to dine, perhaps?”

“Yes.” That was it. “Of course.”

“Very well, sir,” the porter said and, bowing, he led the way to the dining room. Archer entered. Then turned again to make a hasty exit.

“Hamilton!”

Devil take it!

“I hadn’t expected to see you here two weeks after your marriage,” Roger Barrett, said to him, and with an arm held out, beckoned him to share a table.

Archer, seeing no alternative, sat, as he was bid to do.

Barrett resumed his own chair and poured a drink for his friend and former rival.

“Things are well, I trust?” Barrett asked in a tone that suggested he expected the answer to be to his liking.

But how to answer such a question? He couldn’t.

Barrett persistent. “Mrs. Hamilton is well?”

Taking a drink, Archer stalled for time. At last he set his glass down. “She’s in perfect health, Barrett. Thank you.”

“She is not with you, I take it.”

“No.”

“You’ve come alone?”

“Yes.”

Barrett cleared his throat and set his drink aside. His voice, when he spoke again, was taut. “Is there trouble at home?”

“I’m not sure what business it is of yours.”

Barrett leaned back in his chair, affecting a calm Archer knew quite well he didn’t feel. “You are my friend. She is my cousin. I’m concerned. I wish to see you both happy.”

“A little time, I think, is necessary. It all came about rather suddenly, you know.”

“You’ve not quite adjusted, then, to your change in circumstances? Or she has not, perhaps.”

“No, not quite.”

“I confess I’m a little put out to hear it.”

“Well you didn’t expect it would be all bliss and sunshine from the start, did you?”

Barrett didn’t answer right away, but examined Archer long and hard.

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