The River of No Return

say about the bill?”
    Clare sighed. “He was all in a twist about it. I honestly don’t know what his opinion is. I don’t know what to make of him in general.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He’s changed. I don’t know how he thinks anymore.”
    Jemison polished his second apple on his breast. “War changes a man,” he said carefully. “He was at Badajoz. No man who lived through those days will ever be the same again.”
    “What happened?” Clare’s voice was soft, pleading.
    But Jemison only glanced at her with those dark eyes. “No, my lady. That’s between a man and his God.” He put the fruit between his lips, and the bright, jolly sound of a crisp apple yielding to the teeth filled the room.
    “You probably know Nick better than I do, having served with him.”
    “I’m sure I do,” Jemison said. “But I don’t love him, and you do, and that’s a different kind of knowledge. So tell me.”
    “It’s like he’s two different men. I wish you could have heard the conversation when I told him about almost selling Blackdown. At first I thought he was more excited by it even than I. But by conversation’s end, it was as if he were the oldest, goutiest, most backward old duke in the Upper House. Ranting at me!”
    “That doesn’t surprise me. He’s a brave man, but I suspect he always felt guilty about leaving Blackdown. Now that he’s back he’ll dig right in like a tick.”
    “Don’t talk like that about him. He’s my brother. I know you hate him and are sorry he’s returned—”
    Jemison’s eyes flew wide. “Is that what you think?” He laughed. “Good God, woman, I almost wept, I was so glad to see him, landlord scum that he is!” He put his apple to his mouth for a bite but lowered it again, and spoke softly. “If I could tell you what I’ve lived through, side by side with your brother. What our eyes have seen. And then at the last, when he . . .” Jemison was holding the apple in front of his heart; Julia could see the red of it between his fingers. “And not to know where he had gone, or how . . .” His eyes were focused on a distant horror.
    “Jem?” Clare touched his knee.
    “Yes. Enough of that. I’m sorry. Tell me more. So half of him is the great lord, storming around his estate. And the other half?”
    “The marquess seems to think that women should be the equals of men. He claims to be a follower of Mary Wollstonecraft.” Clare crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you make of that, Mr. Glorious Future of the Workingman?”
    Jemison took a big bite and chewed, his eyes merry. “I think he’s mad,” he said with his mouth full.
    “Yes, or maybe you still have some thinking to do.”
    “‘UP, man of reason! Rouse thee UP!’ . . . mercy, mercy!” Jemison cowered, laughing, beneath Clare’s brandished papers.
    “But how will Blackdown vote?” Julia asked.
    “He won’t,” Clare said. “He won’t take up his seat.”
    “No, no, Clare! You have heard the truth, and out of the mouths of babes!” Jemison waved his apple at Julia. “Which of the two marquesses will vote on the Corn Bill? My Lord Backward Looking, or My Lord Forward Looking? He’s taking the oath of allegiance tomorrow, so he’s planning to have a voice.”
    “He’s taking the oath ?” Clare looked astounded.
    “Yes, indeed. Prinny sent him a Writ of Summons and by God he’s answering it. Word is, he’s supposed to give his maiden speech on the Corn Bill. Nobody knows which side he’s on.”
    “Well!” Clare propped her own behind on the table beside Jemison’s. “I never.”
    Julia looked at them both in some confusion. “What’s so strange about Blackdown’s voting?”
    “It’s like I said.” Clare leaned back on her hands. “He’s changed. He left Spain a scapegrace. I would have laid money on his never entering the House of Lords. Now he’s so much more serious in his demeanor. And his face! Maybe it’s that scar, but he looks older than he should. As if he’s seen something terrible . . .”
    “He has,” Jemison said. “Believe me. He has. And when he disappeared—”
    “What do you mean?” Clare turned to him, eager.
    Jemison’s face closed in and he stood away from the table, walked away a few steps, and turned back. “You know as well as I. He was lost in Spain for years on end. . . .”
    “Yes. And he’s told me nothing about that, either.”
    Why had Jemison closed in like that? There was something he knew about