Chapter 22: Complications

Parkland Street, Brighton, England. August 1st, 1815.

It was 8 o'clock in the evening, and James and Captain Clinton were standing in the same street where the Gentleman's Club was, but they were staying outside.

"If I may, Sir," Clinton said. "Why are we not going inside?"

James's gloved hands were clenching and unclenching at his side. His starched collar was suddenly too tight and he needed air. His top hat was like a heavy stone on his head and he had the urge to go back to the Pavilion. Could he admit his fears to the captain? Yes. He trusted him with his life, why would he not trust him with his emotions as well?

"Because I am terrified none of them came and I will be an arse alone in the club."

Clinton nodded solemnly, but James could see from the corner of his eye that he was actually trying not to laugh. "I am certain at least some of them will have come, sir," he said. "Maybe not all seventeen, but some."

"Fine." The prince took a deep breath and let it out slowly, adjusting his collar so he could breathe again. It was indeed time to put his plan into action. He took the first step and the second one followed as he walked with purpose to the grand entrance of the Gentlemen's Club. He had asked his driver to drop them off a little away from the entrance so he could make a run for it if needed. But now he was not running and he let the Club's butler open the door for him and his bodyguard.

The valet waiting inside took his hat and his gloves and they walked in. The air was full of cigar smoke, making a cloudy ceiling above everyone. And to his surprise, the Club was full of men despite it being the middle of the week. And he recognized most of them!

"James!" a familiar voice said above the low hum of men's voices. "We thought you would never come!"

"Aleksander," James said, welcoming his cousin. He had quite mixed feelings about his presence, but now that he was here, he realized how much he had missed his mischief and his good humor. "It is nice to see you again." They shook hands before more men came over to greet the prince.

"Lord Cornelius Cavendish," he said, seeing his wife's friend, for it was because of her that he and Cornelius had become friends in the first place. "It has been quite some time. Thank you for coming."

"I am really glad you wrote to me, Your Highness," the blond man replied. "You know I would never refuse an invitation from you."

James nodded once before turning to the next man. "Votre Grace," he said in French to the Duke of Burgundy. "Je suis honoré de votre présence ici-même ; Merci d'être venu." I am honored by your presence here; thank you for coming.

"Of course, Highness," Jean-Luc de Rosier replied in very good English. "I was about to sail back to France when I received your letter, so I postponed my travels." He looked around. "I see you have invited many… friends?"

James nodded. "Yes. My father made me do this, so I am doing it my way." He looked at the others around him. "I can assure you the ladies are all proper women and I am certain most of you will find one that will make you happy."

Prince Aleksander laughed. "James the Matchmaker. Who would have imagined?"

Some of the men present laughed at that, knowing quite well that James was never the matchmaker and he wondered how he was going to survive the next weeks with his cousin's teasing.

He greeted Diego de Alcántara Álvarez de Toledo y Salm-Salm, Second eldest son to the Duke of the Infantado of Spain, or more commonly known as Diego Culpepper when he was in England, exchanging a few words of catching up since they had not seen each other since Christmas a year and a half before.

Lord Thomas Woodson, Marquess of Woodson, also exchanged a few words with James, as well as with Viscount John Nicholas Hartford, his close friend Lord Charles Brooks and some others. Even Sir Nathaniel Thornbury exchanged a few words with him, thanking him for the invitation, after which James asked him how his business was going. He also exchanged a curt nod with Lord Graham Colborne, for he did not know him that well, and exchanged a few words with Lord Stephen Russell, one of his friend's younger brother.

Once the greetings and introductions had been made, James ordered drinks for everyone along with cigars. "As a said earlier," he started, "I wish to thank you for coming all the way here to Brighton. I wrote to you that I needed your help with a matter, and I do hope you will be able to help. There are twelve of you- yes, Captain, I am counting you as well," he added to Clinton, "and fifteen ladies." He paused. "If it is possible and if you wish, you may find yourself a bride. Think of it as a private little Season."

"Do they know we are coming?" Prince Fyodor Andreyevich Kostarev, Lieutenant Colonel in the Russian army, asked.

"No," James said. "It is a surprise." He sipped on his brandy and put the glass down. "In two days' time," he continued, "there will be a ball – that they are fully aware of – and that is where you will meet them, and they you. You shall all be arriving one after the other, not all at once. My friend Henry does not know of your arrival."

"Ha!" Viscount Riddel, Lord Nicholas Hartford said. "The man will have an apoplexy when he sees us coming."

Right, James thought. I had entirely forgotten that Nicolas and Henry loathed each other. That should be interesting… He is really going to have my head.

James spent the rest of the evening catching up with his friends and acquaintances, not talking about the ladies at all, but simply reveling in the success of the first part of his plan: having the guests in Brighton. He knew the rest would follow since most of the ladies wanted to marry and because he also knew that most of these men were also looking for wives.

It was past two o'clock in the morning when James finally excused himself and bid his guests goodnight, knowing he would see them in two days' time.

"James," someone called after him as he was leaving. He turned around to see his favorite cousin. "May I have a word with you?" he asked. "In private."

James looked around, but apart from Clinton, there was no one close enough to hear them. He nodded and they made their way to a gaming room down the corridor, the three men standing in a triangle. "What is it?"

"I simply wanted to let you know that I have brought two other people with me," Prince Aleksander said, holding his hands behind his back and holding his back straight.

"Two? Who?" James asked.

"Their Lordships Charles and Alistair Schreave." Aleksander's smirk revealed that there was something hidden behind all of this. "My twin boys," he finally said.

"Your–" James laughed. "Since when you do have sons? Who is their mother? If you are already married then–"

"Let me stop you right there," Alek said, holding a hand up. "The boys are six-years-old, which means we have not spoken in a very long time, and I am surprised no one told you. Secondly, I have no idea who their mother is, and thirdly, no, I am not married."

James raised an eyebrow, though he did not know if he wanted to laugh or punch him in the face. But considering he was a gentleman, he did none of those things. "I see." he paused and took a deep breath. "How are you certain they are yours if you do not know who their mother is? How–"

"You will see by yourself that they look exactly like me, and they were dropped off on my doorstep. The mother could be anyone, really…"

James shook his head and made for the door. "You are such an impossible rake, Aleksander. I do not know why I invited you here." Then he came back and pointed a gloved finger at the blond man's chest. "And don't you dare dishonor any of the ladies, or you shall have to deal with me."

Aleksander did not move but laughed. "I thought you could not care less about them and that was why you summoned us here, to take them from you."

"To marry, yes. Not to sleep with and discard like you usually do." He poked his cousin in the chest and frowned. "I will have my eye on you. And I do not want your boys talking with Eleanor." With that, he turned around and left.

"But why?" Alek called after him.

"Because if they are anything like you, I do not wish them to influence my daughter."

"I'll tell them to behave!"

But James was already out of the door and regretting inviting him, of all people. He should have known better…

/ / /

Pavilion, Brighton, England; August 2nd, 1815.

Eleanor's birthday party in the garden had been all cleared out, and what was left was trampled grass and some pink ribbons still floating in the wind from the highest tree branches. No one had dared climb that high and risk breaking their necks. So they were still up there, reminding James of that bittersweet day.

He was standing on the patio, drinking a cup of tea and watching the ladies chat amiably in small groups or play games on the lawn. His gaze always went to the same couple of ladies, even though he tried not to.

"So," a familiar voice said next to him, making him jump a little and spill some of the tea in the saucer.

"Valery," he admonished her. "Do stop creeping on me like that. You are going to have me do an apoplexy."

She smirked and tucked a red curl behind her ear. "You need to stay alert," she said. "Have your… guests arrived?"

"Thankfully, yes," he said, putting the teacup down on the stone railing. "Out of the seventeen invitations I sent, eleven came."

"Eleven? That is a good number, indeed," she said. Valery quickly looked at the ladies on the lawn and counted them. "And there are fifteen ladies."

"Fourteen," he corrected her. "The Countess of Hailey does not wish to marry. And you can add Captain Clinton in the male counterparts, as well as Henry if he wishes to marry as well. That would make thirteen men for fourteen ladies."

Valery laughed. "I wish you good luck in convincing Henry to marry at all, even for convenience. So you can take him out of the list and maybe put you instead?"

"No, the plan is to have them all married to the men."

"There aren't enough–"

"Enough what?" Henry said, coming over. "What are you two conspiring about?"

"The ball," James said, quickly diverting the conversation. "We fear there will not be enough… candles to light up the room for the whole night."

"Candles?" Henry laughed. "Leave that to the servants; it is not yours to worry about my friend." He offered him his best smile before joining the ladies on the lawn. James and Valery shared a look but refrained from laughing.

"I do hope he will be able to forgive you, James." And with that, she also stepped onto the lawn and joined another group of ladies for a chat. James stayed there, unmoving. He, too, hoped Henry would forgive him. Maybe he should tell him? No. He needed to stick with his plan, otherwise, it might backfire on him.

His thoughts had taken him away from the present moment, and he had completely missed the moment the servants had set up a new game for the ladies. A loose rope had been strung in the middle of the lawn, and four ladies – two on each side, Jemima and Rowena against Frederika and Cerys – were bouncing some sort of feathery ball on rackets back and forth. James had often seen it played alone or for two people, but never for four at a time.

"They look ridiculous, do they not?" someone said right next to him. James turned his head to see who had spoken to him – had they not learned not to speak unless spoken to? But then again, they had all been living together for a month, such rules could be bypassed after a while – and saw it was Lady Rebecca Howard.

"Not necessarily," he replied. "I simply do not understand the game."

Rebecca adjusted her gloves. "I think they should not make fools of themselves playing a ridiculous sport in your presence, Your Highness," she explained. "It does not become a lady of the Ton, do you not think?"

James shrugged. "I think you are very quick to judge, Lady Howard," he said. "Playing a sport should be for anyone who wishes to do some physical activity." He paused and looked at the blond girl with whom he had seldom found common ground or at least teasing ground. "Do you not play sports?"

"Sports of the mind, sir," she replied with a perfect and practiced smile. "You should play those as well." And with that, she left his side with a small curtsy before joining a small group of non-playing ladies, leaving him alone again.

/ / /

Pavilion, Brighton, England. Later that same evening.

Everyone had retired for the night, and James found himself alone in his room, but he could not decide to undress for bed. Something was pulling him outside again, and he wondered if it was his wife calling him. Without hesitation, he pulled on his boots again and put on his waistcoat in case someone saw him, but left his flowing sleeves uncovered, and his cravat was undone.

He tiptoed outside, not wanting to wake anyone if anyone was sleeping already, and stood on the patio, waiting. Then he saw something move in the distance, towards the east side of the lake where the moon was already reflecting itself. At this distance and in the dark he could not say if it was a ghost – his wife? – or if it was really someone in the flesh. All he could tell was that there was someone out there.

His gentlemanly upbringing pushed him to go in case it was a lady in distress and he could help her in any way possible. The candles burning on the patio lit his way for a bit, but then it was dark and he mentally cursed himself for not taking a torch with him.

As he approached the movement, he slowed his steps to listen more carefully, and he could hear some soft sobs and sniffles. So it was a lady in distress, after all. James came closer, trying to make some noise so as to not scare whoever it was, but the lady in question – blond hair undone without a bonnet and pink dress without a jacket – was not paying attention to him, or anything else. She was holding a letter in her hands and reading it by moonlight, though she could not have been able to read anything in the darkness, regardless.

The Prince cleared his throat. "Lady Grierson," he said. "Are you alright?"

She slightly jumped at the sound of her name and looked up at the prince. "Yer Highness," she said. "I'm awfully sorry, I–" Her Irish accent was thick, unconcealed by the proper London English she had been using for the duration of the Selection. Louise took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trembling a little.

"What is it?" the prince asked, taking a step towards her, but not wanting to scare her either. "Have you received bad news?"

Louise scoffed. "It is not bad news," she said. "It is terrible news, indeed!" She was getting angry by the minute, which surprised the prince: he had thought she was sad.

"I am afraid my eyes are not as good as yours and I cannot read in the dark," James said. "Will you tell me what is in the letter, Lady Grierson?"

"Will you promise me you will not send me home if I tell you, sir?" she asked, suddenly feeling very small.

James frowned. "I cannot promise you anything, but I shall do my best. Please do tell me what is going on?"

Louise nodded and handed him the paper. "It is about my sister," she said. "I received this letter from my father this morning, but I had not taken the time to read it until now." She paused. "There is one thing you need to know about her: Aideen is a catholic pro-Irish Independence activist, and she is always getting herself arrested, by Papa bails her out. But not this time."

James tried to read what was in the letter, but he could not. He would have to go back inside and read by candlelight if she let him keep the letter a bit longer. "And why would you think I would send you home over this?" He raised an inquiring eyebrow, though she would probably not see it.

"Because you might think my loyalties lie elsewhere than to you and the British Crown."

"Do they?"

"No. I would not be here if they were."

"Hmm," he said. They were silent for a moment, taking in all of this. "And why has your father not bailed her out this time? How long has she been in custody?"

"The letter is dated a week ago. And he says he wanted to teach her a lesson." She paused. "But there is another problem: she evaded whatever prison she was in and is now on the loose, as a vulgar wanted criminal."

"I see." Now that complicated things indeed, James thought. "And they have not found her yet?"

"Not a week ago at least," Louise said. "Oh, Your Highness! I am so dreadfully sorry about all of this…" She had barely finished talking when she burst into tears again, holding her face in her hands.

"Miss Grierson– Louise," James said softly, putting a hand on her arm – and knowing very well that if someone saw them, he would not hear the end of it. "It shall be alright. Whatever your sister is doing, you are safe here, and you are not your sister."

"Truly?" she asked through tears.

"Yes, truly. Now," he continued. "Shall I walk you back to the Pavilion? And we shall try not to slide into the lake, alright?"

That actually made her laugh, and James was glad for the sound; he never knew quite what to do when there was a crying lady. They walked together through the grass, Louise holding on to his arm so they both would not fall, and by the time they had reached the lit patio, Louise had full control of herself and her accent again.

"I do thank you for coming to my aid, sir," she said. "And I hope you will stay to your word: I am not my sister."

"Of course," he said. "If you receive any news, please do let me know."

Louise nodded before curtsying and bidding him good night. James wondered how two sisters could be so different, yet have the exact same family. He really did not know much about the ladies' families, and maybe he should.

That would be a waste of your time since you are not planning on marrying, remember? a little voice inside his mind said. He listened to it and went to bed.


Hello and thanks for stopping by ;) I hope you enjoyed this chapter! chaos and complications indeed. The next chapter will be the long-awaited ball, so it might take me some time to write it and get better acquainted with the new characters as well! speaking of which, I have added their sections to the Pinterest board if you want to go take a look-see, in alphabetical order after the ladies... (if you've created a dude, you can add stuff to their sections as well! and I haven't invited you on the Pinterest board, let me know and I'll do asap!)

Thanks for reviewing! and I would like to do a shout-out to the few of you who review (almost) every single chapter here on FF! namely Sloth, Dreamer, and Shades ;) and to all of you who chat on the Discord after a chapter is posted, because I love these moments ! eeeek

okay, see you next time!