"There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution." Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
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XXVII.
Joe was quite certain that he was going to send himself mad with his own wretched guilt. He had meant to leave. He had meant his words when he had proclaimed that statement to Perrie.
Leaving seemed as though it could be the only way to alleviate at least some of his sins without doing unto Perrie and her family what his own father had done to him. History had already begun to repeat itself and Joe needed to stop it.
Joe, of course, had had nowhere to run to, but anywhere would have been better than to continue to trespass upon the duke's good faith.
He had been about to tear apart his bedroom and pack his belongings into his trunk when the duke had appeared in his doorway and informed him that they were travelling to London for a short break.
"I cannot go, Your Grace," Joe had informed the duke regretfully as he prepared himself to bed Adam's forgiveness for everything that he had done and could do.
But before he could, Adam had firmly replied, "Oh, that was not a suggestion. That was an instruction. You are to accompany me to London, my boy."
That was how Joe had found himself in a carriage seated opposite Adam and his father, and beside his brother, who seemed just as perplexed at the whole situation as Joe was. Their father seemed to be in quite the jovial mood to be invited to the Duke of Ashwood's London residence for a short holiday of cards, whiskey, and no doubt, women.
It apparently was not a great distance from Ashwood to London, but to Joe it felt like the length of the Continent. Joe knew that at some point during this trip he would need to take the duke aside to inform Adam of his decision, and he would pray that he did not appear ungrateful. Joe could not have been more grateful for Adam's dedicated tutelage over the last few months.
Joe simply was not worthy.
Perrie poignant observation echoed inside Joe's mind as the carriage travelled along. Someone had made him feel unworthy, and that man was sitting only inches from him happily chatting about a club he knew of in town.
"Forgive me, Viscount," Adam said, interrupting, "but I am sitting here and admiring your two strapping boys, and I simply cannot tell them apart. I know which is which because I observed them speaking to one another as we got into the carriage, but I cannot discern between them by appearance alone. How do you do it?"
The change in conversation brought both Joe and Ed out of their thoughts. Joe met the hazel eyes of the duke and Adam offered him a warm smile. Was it knowing? It reminded him a little of Perrie's smile, only her blue eyes were far more devious when she smiled like that. Often, she was thinking of some sort of sinister prank.
But could Adam tell the twins apart? Was he playing along, like Perrie had pretended to, when she claimed that she had not known? Joe realised that he had never asked Perrie how she had known it was him. And he suddenly desperately wanted to know the answer to that.
"I have always known," John replied in a far less cheerful tone. "They appear very different in my eyes."
"What are the differences you see?" Adam probed.
Joe did not look at his father, though he could feel John's cold, steel gaze upon his face.
But John couldn't answer, at least not truthfully. Because Joe knew the answer to this question. John that proclaimed it once, many years ago, when he had been intoxicated to the point of oblivion.
"I will always know when it is you. You killed your mother. I will never forget your face."
"I had hoped that in getting to know Master Edmund that I would be able to tell the difference between the boys by their temperaments. But I find them both to be clever, quick-witted, kind, young gentlemen. They are equally as amiable and as good as each other and are perhaps the definition of the word 'identical'. You have been blessed, Viscount, to have two such exemplary sons."
Adam spoke of the virtues of both Joe and Ed, but he looked directly at Joe as his delivered his message.
"I suppose there is one clear difference to assist you in telling them apart, Your Grace," John said sharply. "Only one of them is deaf."
"Joe is deaf in one ear, Father. He can hear perfectly well out of the other," Ed replied defensively.
Joe suddenly wished that he was seated on the right of the carriage instead of the left so that he would be spared from this conversation. He could hear so much more in his father's words than the simple physical difference. His voice was riddled with his condemnation of Joe's horrendous and humiliating failure. Joe's deafness was not a tenth of the everlasting punishment that he deserved according to their father.
"And yet, by the grace of God, Joe is still with you, with us," Adam interjected firmly. "Many others are not as fortunate and are struck down by what ails them. My father and the duchess' father were both lost to their sickbeds. What a gift you were given to have your child live. I do not know what I would do were it one of my children."
"Or your wife," John added coldly, and Joe knew that was said explicitly for him.
***
"Brother!"
Adam beamed as a tall, exceptionally dressed gentleman marched confidently across the luxuriously decorated smoking room at White's. Adam stood up from the emerald-coloured wingback chair and embraced the man, his brother, warmly.
"What an occasion to have you in my part of the country," Adam's brother teased. "I will have to bring out my best china and alert the town crier."
Adam laughed. "I will, of course, require a troubadour to follow my every move and serenade my momentous presence."
"He's waiting just outside with a fifteen-stanza poem describing your glittering smile. Shall I summon him?"
Adam embraced his brother once again, before muttering something quietly that sounded rather like, "I have missed you, Jack." He placed his arm around his brother's shoulders as he brought Jack before their small party, which up until that point had been a rather dim affair.
John's mood had improved remarkably after two generous glasses of whiskey and was quite happily smoking a pipe. Ed was far more gracious, perhaps was the word, when engaging in conversation, and that could have been a hint to the duke to help tell the twins apart. Joe supposed that Ed was used to rooms and clubs like this one at Cambridge. Even if their father was not there, and he had not reminded Joe of his place, he still doubted that he would have felt like he belonged in such an establishment with good people like Adam Beresford.
But in looking at the embrace of brothers, Joe saw a likeness between the Beresfords and the Parishes. There was a clear and unmistakable bond between Adam and Jack, and Joe knew that he shared such a bond with his own brother.
"Jack, may I introduce you to my guests. This is the Viscount Evesham. Viscount, meet my brother, Lord Jack Beresford."
"Delighted," Jack nodded as the Viscount stood up to make Jack's acquaintance.
"Likewise, milord," John replied with a bow of his head.
Joe and Ed both stood up next as Adam drew Jack's attention to the twins. "And these are the viscount's sons, Mr Edmund, and Mr Joe Parish."
Both Joe and Ed bowed their heads as Jack received them in a friendly manner.
"Goodness," Jack then remarked, looking between Joe and Ed. "I don't suppose anyone has ever told you this ..."
Joe and Ed exchanged a glance. Just as they both were about to comment that 'yes, we are identical, and no, we are not the same person repeated, and no, there is not a mirror in the middle of the room, there really are two of us', Jack spoke.
"... but I am actually the twin brother of Adam, here," Jack continued, grinning devilishly. "I am the better looking of us both. It is a heavy burden to be this handsome, but I bear it with grace and humility. Please do not remind Adam of his inferior looks as he is quite sensitive about it." Jack tapped Adam's chest pitifully.
Joe could not help but welcome the strange feeling of ease that washed over him in that moment. After feeling like a wicked imposter for the entire duration of this trip, being involved in a simple joke was refreshing and necessary.
"Are you twins really? The non-alike kind," John asked curiously. "I never realised."
Jack laughed lightly. "No." He shook his head. "Adam is my much, much older brother. Elderly. Ancient. I am but the second son. Second, but the best. Not second best."
"Jack is two years younger than me," clarified Adam. "But I quite agree. The best, even if he came second."
"You are the second son?" Joe found himself saying out loud, which brought Jack's attention to him.
Jack nodded. "Which of you is older?"
"Me," Ed replied, "by a mere six minutes."
"So, you are the second, and the best?" Jack's eyebrows rose as he looked upon Joe.
"Yes, he is," Ed confirmed, coming to hook his arm around Joe's shoulder the same way that Adam had embraced Jack.
***
The addition of Jack to their small party was a welcome distraction and provided many new avenues of conversation that did not allow Joe to drown in his guilt despite it still being right there in his mind.
Jack enjoyed telling them all about his successful publishing business, but much preferred to speak of his family. Joe learned that Jack had married the duchess' younger sister, and they lived very happily together in London with their two teenaged daughters.
As Jack spoke, Adam continually interjected to celebrate his brother's triumphs despite the order of their birth. But the duke was not perhaps as subtle as he meant to be as Joe quite quickly understood that these stories were for his benefit.
What did the duke know? What did the duke presume? Whatever it was, he seemed to think that introducing Joe to his brother would help in some way. While Joe appreciated that this was presumably meant in kindness, it only added to Joe's undeniable failures.
Joe's crime was not that he was a second son. He could have made any sort of career for himself as a second son even without his father's affection. His crimes had started at birth, and he had only made them worse in adulthood.
Unless Jack came out and confessed to murder and then detailed his redemption, Joe knew that his own salvation was not near.
But that did not answer the question of why the duke was doing this. He must not have known everything. Perhaps his father had shielded his failure in the navy from him. Joe had never spoken of it and Adam had never expressly asked.
It was Joe's responsibility to tell him. He knew that in his gut. He would need to overcome his own cowardice.
That was what Joe told himself as he lay in bed that night, staring up at the canopy ceiling above him. He did not know what time it was. Sleep eluded him, and that was why he had been awake to hear the quiet groan that the door to the bedroom beside his made when it was opened and then closed.
Joe climbed out of bed and managed to walk through his dark room to the door, which he promptly opened. Upon looking out into the dark hallway, he spotted a single illuminated candle being held by his brother as he made his way down towards the landing fully dressed.
"Ed?" Joe called out in a whispered hiss.
Ed froze. Joe did not think that he had ever seen his brother so stiff.
Joe's concerns and anxieties for himself evaporated in that moment and he immediately walked out into the hallway. "Ed, are you alright?" He kept his voice low so as not to wake their father, who was no doubt sleeping off the whiskey and was quite unconscious.
Ed slowly turned around, and the expression on his brother's face was enough to send Joe into a panic. Ed was frightened. No, he looked terrified. Even in the dim light, as Joe rushed to reach him, he could see that Ed was ashen, having lost all of his colour.
"I thought you were asleep." Ed's voice was hushed, but trembling.
"I couldn't sleep. Tell me what's wrong. Where are you going?"
"Nothing is wrong," Ed hurriedly assured Joe, taking in a staggered breath. "You must go back to bed and get some rest."
Joe's worries were not at all alleviated by Ed's pathetic reassurance. He reached out for Ed's arms, and as soon as he made contact, he could feel that his brother was shaking. "Ed, what is wrong? Tell me so at once."
Ed shook Joe's hands off of him and stepped backwards. "Nothing is wrong," he said firmly. "Joe, please. Leave me be." There was a desperation in Ed's tone that Joe had never heard before.
"Only if you tell me where you're going," Joe challenged.
But Ed shook his head. "I can't," was all he said in reply. "Please, go back to bed. I am begging you to leave me be. Forget that you saw me leave. I will return before the house is even awake."
Joe couldn't believe that Ed was asking this of him. If their roles were reversed, Ed would have never allowed Joe to escape with so little reassurance and explanation. Was Ed really wielding his six minutes of seniority over Joe so that he could escape needing to explain?
Ed took another shaky breath. "For me, please. Do not ask any more questions and go back to bed. I love you more than anyone, brother. I beg that you will never ever forget that."
And with that, Ed turned back around and continued on towards the landing, leaving Joe standing in the hallway. Joe was still as he heard Ed quietly descend the stairs before his heeled boots walked across the marble foyer as delicately as he could muster.
If Ed thought that Joe loved him any less than Ed loved Joe, he was a lunatic. There was no way that Joe was going to allow his brother to leave this house like that. Joe had made far too many mistakes in his life but failing to follow Ed would not be one of them.
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Where is Ed going? Will it lead to all of the pain and sorrow and torture that we're all used to from this SICK, TWISTED AUTHOR?!?!?!!?
You guys, I really wanted her to reveal this one in this chapter, I said to her, "You can't leave them on that cliffhanger, Laura. They're in anxious anticipation as it is. They know you're reputation. They know what you've got plan is going to ruin them. Put them out of their misery!"
And do you want to know what she said? She goes, "Oops, it's bedtime. I s'pose they'll have to just anticipate a little bit harder as to what's going to happen next ..."
SICK!! SICKO!!! I tried you guys. I really did.
.....
But, guess what?!?! The most book boyfriend thing ever happened to me yesterday I'm literally still buzzing.
I was at my boyfriend's house and he was gaming (I have zero interest or know-how) and so I was sitting on the opposite couch curled up under a blanket and reading my book as I needed to sit near the powerpoint and charge my phone.
He suddenly pauses his game, looks at me, smiles, and goes, "Look how beautiful you are."
WHEN I TELL YOU I WAS DYING SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP --- THIS ROMANCE NOVEL LINE HAPPENED TO MEE???!!! ME??!!
I invent these men that say things like that.
And he's just out here stealing my lines ... and my heart :P
They're out there, friends. I know, I was sceptical too. But I didn't imagine this one up. What the hell??!!
I really should tell him he's plagiarising me, but anyway hehehe.
It was just such a nice out of the blue thing to happen, and for a boy to pause his game, too. wow hahahaha
Anyway, vote and comment xxx