Sasha Cottman - Two of a Kind

L ondon 1817

A crowded, dirty, riverside tavern.

Im getting married.

James Radley choked on the large mouthful of ale he had just taken, coughing some of it out. Most of the beer ended up down the front of his clothes, a little on his chin, the rest he somehow managed to swallow. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before looking at the soaked mess that was now down the front of his shirt.

What do you mean you are getting married? he replied.

Guy Dannon, his old school friend from Eton, met Jamess gaze. A wry grin sat on his lips. It was clear Guy knew exactly what sort of reaction his sudden announcement would receive from James. He was a master when it came to manipulating people.

Decided to run for parliament. A chap needs a wife in order to secure preselection for a safe seat, so I am going to get married, said Guy.

James carefully set his tankard of beer down on the table, not wishing to risk choking on another mouthful. It was bad enough that he now stank of beer. The one thing he was certain of right at this minute was that he had never heard the words Guy and wife used in the same sentence. Until now.

Why do you think I went and bought a house and some land. It wasnt from some sudden need to display my wealth. I cant vote if I dont own property, and I cannot run for parliament if I am not a land owner. Its all part of my grand plan.

James looked down at his ale and wondered if someone had slipped something into his drink. It was the only thing that made sense. Guy had always declared that marriage was for other men, it would never be for him.

Dont take this the wrong way, but you are an unashamed rake. You only see women as a means to sate your sexual needs. How on earth are you going to make any sort of a decent husband and father? said James.

Guy gave a one shoulder shrug before draining the last of his own tankard. The whole disinterested movement immediately giving James cause for concern. While his friend appeared serious enough about his political ambitions, it was his less than lukewarm attitude toward marriage which had James feeling more than a little awkward.

Dont fret about it. I have chosen a young lady from a politically connected family. She understands how these things work, and what sort of marriage a politician needs. My securing a seat in parliament is what it important. Though for appearances sake, I will have to make a good show of the wedding. The best of everything so that the right people can see I am a man of means and worthy of their support, replied Guy.

James didnt like the sound of that at all. He had two sisters and numerous female relatives, and he knew they all held firm opinions about the subject of marriage. Given half the chance, a woman would not marry purely for the sake of convenience. It was love or nothing. He felt sorry for the girl Guy had chosen as his future bride.

So, who is this poor chit who is to be saddled with you for the rest of her days? he asked, only half in jest.

Her name is Leah Shepherd, from what I understand your sister Claire knows her. The good news is that you will get to meet her tomorrow at the garden party in Richmond, replied Guy.

James leaned across the table and stared at his friend, unsure as to whether he had heard Guy correctly. Had he just said that they were going to a garden party?

I am not going to a bloody garden party. Those things are dangerous. Every unwed young miss in London will be in attendance, and they will all be in search of the one thing. A husband. Cupid will have his little sharp arrows trained on every bachelors arse and I for one am not going to be target practice for him. Hell will freeze over before I willingly set foot inside a garden party, said James.

The whole notion was preposterous. Garden parties were always full of love struck couples making doe eyes at one another. Shudder.

Guy smiled. I tell you what James. Let me buy us a large bottle of whisky and then we can discuss what you will or wont be doing tomorrow.

Fine, sounds like a plan, replied James.

Guy could buy all the whisky he wished; James Radley was not going to a garden party.

R ichmond, London

Hell has frozen over

James gave Guy the filthiest look which his monstrous hangover would allow him to summon.

It was a low dishonorable thing that you did last night, he muttered, his voice rough.

Stop whining. I didnt hear you complaining when I pressed any of those ten glasses of whisky into your hand. Granted it took until the seventh glass for you to agree to come to the garden party, but you did, and thats that, snorted Guy.

I honestly didnt think you were serious about us coming here today, I thought it was just the drink talking, said James.

Guy raised an eyebrow. Which would explain your state of disheveled undress when I arrived at your home this morning. Trust me James, I have never been more serious about anything in my life, replied Guy.

But if you have already chosen this girl, why are we here? asked James.

To help seal the deal. I might not believe in love or any of that sentimental nonsense, but the ton likes to think it does. A chap has to go through the motions of courting a young lady. Society expects me to pay Leah special attention and lavish pretty compliments on her before I make an offer of marriage, replied Guy.

The carriage pulled up at the end of a long line of similarly painted black glossy carriages outside an elegant country house. The younger adult members of Londons social elite were all gathering for a pleasant Saturday afternoon; while James just wanted to go home and climb back into his bed and not appear again until he felt more human.

With undisguised reluctance, he climbed out of the carriage after Guy. Then he stopped. He had been in a foul mood since Guy had unexpectedly appeared at his bedroom door earlier that morning and demanded that he dress and make himself presentable.

And much as it had been Guy who had pressed glass after glass of whisky into his hand, James knew that he had no one else to blame for his hangover but himself. A gentleman should learn to suffer for his sins in silence.

Go on ahead, I shall catch up with you in a moment. I need to find my good humor, said James.

He silently chided himself. As his friend, Guy would expect him to be supportive of his efforts to secure a suitable marriage. Yet his conscience pricked at him. The way Guy was going about securing a wife was all too cold and dispassionate for his liking.

Guy shrugged and headed toward the garden gate which was gaily decorated with bright yellow ribbons. Footmen in black and yellow livery lined either side of the entrance. This was one of the most highly sought after party invitations in the final days of autumn, soon it would be too cold to host outdoor events. James frowned as he watched his friend depart. The prospect of James and Leah both willingly entering into a loveless union sat heavily in his mind.

He pulled a cheroot out of his coat pocket and lit it. Leaning back against the side of Guys town carriage, he drew back on the petite cigar. Other carriages continued to make their way up the long driveway and James watched with interest as various groups of young people, and their chaperones, alighted. There was laughter and smiles on everyones faces, all except his.

It was a surprisingly warm day, one of only a handful which London had been graced with this year. Lots of his friends would be attending today and he knew he should be in a better mood.