Love in the Afternoon (The Hathaways #5)(58)

“I want my own bottle,” Leo said feelingly, leading the way.

Aside from leaving out a few intimate details, Christopher told them everything. He was unsparing when it came to his own flaws, but he was determined to protect Beatrix from criticism, even from her own family.

“It’s not like her to play games,” Leo said, shaking his head after Christopher told them about the letters. “God knows what possessed her to do such a thing.”

“It wasn’t a game,” Christopher said quietly. “It turned into something more than either of us expected.”

Cam regarded him with a speculative gaze. “In the excitement of all these revelations, Phelan, one could easily be swept away. Are you very sure of your feelings for Beatrix? Because she is—”

“Unique,” Leo supplied.

“I know that.” Christopher felt his mouth twitch with a trace of humor. “I know that she steals things unintentionally. She wears breeches, and references Greek philosophers, and has read far too many veterinary manuals. I know that she keeps the kinds of pets that other people pay to have exterminated.” Thinking of Beatrix, he felt an ache of yearning. “I know that she could never reside in London, that she could only thrive by living close to nature. I know that she is compassionate, intelligent, and brave, and the only thing she truly fears is being abandoned. And I would never do that, because I happen to love her to distraction. But there is one problem.”

“What is that?” Leo asked.

Christopher answered in a bleak syllable. “Me.”

Minutes ticked by as Christopher explained the rest of it . . . his inexplicable behavior since the war, the symptoms of a condition that seemed akin to madness. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised that they received the information without apparent alarm. But it made him wonder: what kind of family was this?

When Christopher finished, there was a moment of silence.

Leo looked at Cam expectantly. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Now is the time when you dredge up one of your blasted Romany sayings. Something about roosters laying eggs, or pigs dancing in the orchard. It’s what you always do. Let’s have it.”

Cam gave him a sardonic glance. “I can’t think of one right now.”

“By God, I’ve had to listen to hundreds of them. And Phelan doesn’t have to hear even one?”

Ignoring Leo, Cam turned his attention to Christopher. “I believe the problems you’ve described will lessen as time passes.” He paused. “Our brother Merripen would attest to that, if he were here.”

Christopher looked at him alertly.

“He never fought in a war,” Cam continued quietly, “but violence and damage are hardly limited to the battlefield. He had his own demons to fight, and he conquered them. I see no reason why you can’t do the same.”

“I think Phelan and Beatrix should wait,” Leo said. “Nothing will be lost by waiting.”

“I don’t know about that,” Cam said. “As the Rom say, ‘Take too much time, and time will take you.’ ”

Leo looked smug. “I knew there would be a saying.”

“With all due respect,” Christopher muttered, “this conversation is leading nowhere. At least one of you should point out that Beatrix deserves a better man.”

“That’s what I said about my wife,” Leo remarked. “Which is why I married her before she could find one.” He smiled slightly as he contemplated Christopher’s glowering face. “So far, I haven’t been all that impressed by your flaws. You drink more than you should, you have trouble controlling your impulses, and you have a temper. All of those are practically requirements in the Hathaway family. I suppose you think Beatrix should marry a quiet young gentleman whose idea of excitement is collecting snuffboxes or writing sonnets. Well, we’ve tried that, and it hasn’t worked. She doesn’t want that kind of man. Apparently what she wants is you.”

“She’s too young and idealistic to know better,” Christopher said. “I fault her judgment.”

“So do I,” Leo shot back. “But unfortunately none of my sisters let me pick their husbands for them.”

“Easy, the two of you,” Cam interceded calmly. “I have a question for you, Phelan . . . if you decide to wait indefinitely before proposing marriage to Beatrix . . . do you intend to continue seeing her in the meantime?”

“Yes,” Christopher said honestly. “I don’t think anything could keep me away from her. But we’ll be circumspect.”

“I doubt that,” Leo said. “The only thing Beatrix knows about being circumspect is how to spell it.”

“Before long there would be gossip,” Cam said, “and criticism, which would harm Beatrix’s reputation. With the result that you would have to marry her anyway. There’s not much point in delaying the inevitable.”

“Are you saying you want me to marry her?” Christopher asked incredulously.

“No,” Cam replied, looking rueful. “But I can’t say I’m all that fond of the alternative. Beatrix would be miserable. Besides, which one of us will volunteer to tell her that she’s going to have to wait?”

All three were silent.

Beatrix knew that she would get precious little rest that night, her mind too engaged with worries and questions to allow for sleep. Christopher had not stayed for dinner, but had left soon after his talk with Cam and Leo.