The Perfect Gentleman (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book)

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The Perfect Gentleman (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 14

by Deborah Wilson


  Lore had thought the same at first, but now he wondered just how much control she had over it. Her mother seemed to control her eating habits. Did she ensure Brinley remained hidden so that Arabella shined more brightly?

  “She’s a fine lady, and she’s beautiful,” Lore said, meaning it. “She has the very qualities that would make a good wife. She’s bright and clearly knows how to act in fine company. And one must consider more than outward appearances for such matters. Beauty fades and if a gentleman isn’t careful, they could be left with a hollow shell in the end.”

  “Indeed.” Denhollow turned back to him. “But that is only a worry if a man decides to only content himself with a wife. “He waved off Lore’s next comment. “But I know you Curbains have your honor. You wouldn’t dream of committing adultery.” He looked positively bored by the notion.

  And he was right. The Curbains were known to keep the holy commandments. He knew Hero would never stray from his Beatrix or Valiant from Lord Beaumont.

  “I’m sorry if you’ve felt neglected the past few days,” Lore said as a way to change the subject. “Have you been having a good time?”

  Denhollow grinned. “Just as much fun as you, I’m sure. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. Now, as for Jupiter being in the care of Lord Tellock… You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, won’t you?”

  Lore knew that if everything fell apart, Denhollow would be there, just as he’d been when Lore lost his father. He was a faithful friend though one of Lore’s more rakish ones.

  Lore clapped his friend’s shoulder. “As you so eloquently said, don’t worry for me. I can take care of myself.” And with that, Lore crossed the room to Brinley.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 7

  “Brinley, I truly don’t wish to do this,” Lore said as he sat beside her in the coach. He leaned in the corner and stared out the window as though disaster rested on the other side. The dark velvet lining made his blond hair and cerulean eyes stand out. He hardly moved as they rocked over the bricked road. “I don’t want to be here.”

  “No one has made you come,” Brinley replied in a low voice.

  Lord Hero sat on Brinley’s other side though his attention was on his paper.

  Across from them sat Valiant, Everly, and Lady Hero. They were looking over some of Brinley’s designs, all of them being presented as Everly’s, of course. Everly had been struck with the idea to have a dress designed for the ball that would take place at the end of the party and insisted that Brinley and Valiant come along to assist.

  They were going to town, a place Lore had made clear he wished to avoid like the Black Death, yet he’d hopped into the coach nearly right after Brinley had.

  And, of course, she’d been glad though she’d not said it outright.

  She had been unable to hide her smile and that seemed enough to calm Lore… for a time.

  Now, as they entered the heart of the village, he was nervous.

  “Everly,” Valiant said. “Your designs are spectacular, as always.” She beamed. “Wherever do you get your idea?”

  Everly didn’t even glance at Brinley as she smiled. “You know, they simply come to me. I daresay, I can barely remember drawing them out much less actually forming the idea in my mind.”

  Valiant and Lady Hero laughed.

  Brinley narrowed her eyes at her friend but said nothing as a smile touched her lips. It was not the first time Brinley had heard praise over her work yet every time she did, it warmed her. It didn’t matter to her that everyone thought Everly had made it. Brinley knew it necessary in the end and didn’t care for the attention.

  But she was glad to know that she made others happy and that her work was admired.

  Lore suddenly appeared very close to her face, examining her. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Nothing.” She dropped her smile.

  “Oh.” He frowned. “I thought you were thinking about me.” His eyes were challenging.

  ”If you’re scared, you’ve no reason to be. I am here and am very willing to lend you my arm if need be.” Now she mocked him.

  He lifted his brow. “Would you also lend me your lips again?”

  Her cheeks burned. She looked over to make sure the other women were still speaking over the design. They were, deciding colors.

  Lord Hero now had his gaze on her. Had he heard anything they’d said?

  Brinley sat back in her seat and closed her eyes.

  Lore chuckled.

  The coach stopped.

  The men assisted the women out at as they headed into the seamstress’ shop…

  “Lore,” Lord Hero said. “Walk with me.”

  Lore stopped.

  Brinley stopped and turned as well, but then turned back around and went on. Their business had nothing to do with her, she hoped. Putting that worry to the side, she decided to be glad to have a moment without the alluring Lore around.

  * * *

  “I’ve spoken with Valiant and heard the rumors, but I didn’t believe for a moment that you actually liked the woman until just now,” Hero said as they stood outside the seamstress. There was a grin on Lore’s brother’s face. “Have you changed your mind about marriage then? Do you intend to ask for her?”

  Lore stared at his brother for a moment as he thought of just what to say. Of all his siblings, Hero was the one who knew him best and likely understood him.

  Duty to the military had kept Hero from seeking a wife for years. Then Beatrix had come into their lives and everything had changed. Still, he’d never pressured Lore into changing his own mind. After the debacle with Helen, Lore had many reasons to steer clear from making a match.

  What if the scandal followed him into his marriage? Would any potential wife he took believe his side of the story? Would he even get that far in the courtship? There had always been the chance that Mr. Landon would speak to any potential father-in-law and ruined Lore’s chances.

  And his own family wouldn’t have been able to dispute the story if asked about it until recently.

  But with those worries put aside and the truth finally out, there was still Lore’s own feelings on love to consider.

  Helen had done more than damage his reputation. She’d made Lore question his judgment when it came to women and love. He’d learned quickly to never be lured by a pretty visage or to take one at their word, especially a woman. Helen hadn’t only broken his trust where she was concerned.

  Lore would never give himself fully to any woman again.

  And what sort of life would that leave any wife he did take? No, it was best Lore never married and simply took his joys and pleasures where he could.

  There was much pleasure to take where Brinley was concerned, and he’d not even laid with her.

  In a way, he did trust her. She was honest, and not just with others but with herself as well. She didn’t paint false realities. She was real.

  Perhaps, too real at times.

  “I enjoy her company,” Lore finally said. “Let’s not make more of it than that.” He turned to enter the seamstress’ shop.

  Hero put a hand on his shoulder. “You simply enjoy her company? Surely, it is more than that.”

  Lore turned to him.

  Hero was still grinning. His Curbain nose kept him from being standardly handsome, but he had a way of being that demanded respect and thus gave him a different sort of attraction that many women found pleasant.

  Hero also had the Curbain eyes, which more than helped. “Only a fool wouldn’t be able to see around her appearance. Is she fashionable? No, but she is a woman of quality.”

  “I agree,” Lore said as he realized how pleased he was to gain his family’s approval on the match.

  Not that was a true match at all.

  “Asher wanted me to ask,” Hero went on. “He sensed that you’d dance around answering his questions if he inquired.”

  Lore knew that both his brothers wouldn’t have a single question if they�
��d gone riding with the group that first morning, the day Lord Tellock had paraded Jupiter before Lore’s eyes.

  His brothers knew his horse on sight, but Brinley had not taken Jupiter out since that first morning. Lore knew himself to be the reason. She was being considerate of him and putting a hole in her father’s plan all at once.

  Lore decided to tell Hero the truth. “Lord Tellock has Jupiter and has offered to return the horse to me if I made his daughter more appealing by spending time with her.”

  Hero’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “Why does Tellock have Jupiter?”

  Lore rolled his eyes. He’d completely forgotten that he’d be forced to share everything once he began. “Don’t tell Asher. I would rather our high and mighty brother not know just how poorly I’ve made a mess of my life.” He told Hero about the card game then. “He won him fair. I simply have to earn Jupiter back, but don’t worry, Brinley knows about the arrangement and has been agreeable for the most part.”

  “So…” Hero was watching him closely. “You simply escort her to a few dinners and stroll the drawing room a few times and Tellock will let Jupiter go?”

  Lore nodded and then waited for his brother’s opinion.

  Hero placed his hands on his hips and said, “I don’t believe you.”

  That was not the answer Lore had expected. It took him back.

  Hero went on. “There’s more between you two, otherwise why would you be here? The very last place that you wanted to be. There is no one from the party here to see you woo Brinley.”

  Lore shrugged. “As I said, I enjoy her company.”

  Hero laughed. “Brother, it’s much more than that. The least you can do is admit you like her.”

  Lore’s heart raced. Hero was asking far too much of him. “I find her pleasant, but make no mistake, I’ll not offer for her hand. She knows this and now you do as well, but don’t tell Valiant or Asher. Let them believe what they will. It all works better the fewer people who know the truth.”

  Hero’s expression remained unchanged. “I’ll not tell Valiant or Asher.”

  “I thank you.” Lore made to turn away again.

  “There’ll be no point when I suspect your plan will reach the only conclusion I see,” Hero said at his back with a chuckle.

  Lore ignored him and walked into the seamstress’ shop, aware that Hero followed.

  There were a few other ladies present, milling about looking at silk and examining ladies’ magazines.

  Ayers Village had its share of wealthy residents, Mr. Landon being only one of many.

  Lore recognized more than half the room.

  And they him.

  He felt suffocated as some dared to approach, and he discovered quickly that no one treated him differently. There were a few who made comments about his hasty exit, but otherwise, everyone was pleasant. It was as if they’d never heard a whisper about what happened between him and Helen.

  Lore eventually calmed enough to speak briefly to those who had gathered around him before moving toward his party.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Hero asked.

  “No, it wasn’t.” Lore had feared for nothing and though Mr. Landon had revealed to know the truth of what happened between him and Helen, for the first time in three years, Lore felt as though he could breathe again.

  He’d made a mistake where Helen was concerned and had paid for it when he’d had to leave his position in the clergy, but now he was free.

  The only thing left to deal with, the only thing still nagging him, were the last words Helen had said to him.

  Did he want to know what pushed her to lie about their time together?

  He told himself no, but the truth still nagged at him.

  His attention was stolen by the conversation between his sisters and Brinley.

  “Absolutely not!” Brinley shook her head. “If this is what we came here for—”

  “It’s not,” Everly said. “Truly, I only came intending to get a gown for myself, but I think you should have one made as well.”

  “I agree.” Beatrix beamed.

  “We’re all getting one,” Valiant said with authority. “Now, come choose a design from Everly’s personal collection.”

  “No.” Brinley shook her head. “They are not for me.”

  “Says who?” Valiant turned to Everly. “Surely, you think Brinley would look lovely in one of these designs.”

  “I believe Brinley would look stunning,” Everly said while speaking to Valiant but looking at Brinley. There was sweet tenderness in her gaze and then that gaze turned to Lore. “Don’t you agree, my lord?”

  Lore turned to Brinley, who refused to meet his eyes.

  But she sat like a queen on the couch with that ridiculous mob cap and a stiff chin. Her refusal to yield even in her posture.

  How did she not know how alluring she was?

  “I think Lady Brinley should be allowed to make her own decisions,” Lore began. “Besides, new gowns could hardly enhance what I already find to be a masterpiece.”

  The other women grinned sweetly up at him.

  Brinley fisted her hands and glared at him. “Oh! You!” She closed her mouth and looked away again.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 8

  Brinley felt the seat beside her depress and knew it was Lore who’d sat beside her.

  She hated him. Now more than before, she truly hated him. While he’d flirted with her outrageously in the past, before this moment, he’d never been so cruel.

  Her eyes burned with mortification. He knew as well as everyone else that she was by no means a masterpiece of any sort.

  She’d had her mother to point that out her entire life and a father who’d been willing to sell her for a horse.

  She knew she wasn’t pretty. She weighed more than the other women, had spots, and plain eyes.

  “Let me see those designs.” Lore reached toward Beatrix, who held the papers out to him then he settled back into the couch and looked them over.

  He stared at the drawings as though they were of the highest importance. In the middle of a seamstress shop, he was still dashingly masculine.

  She enjoyed him, yet at the same time, she couldn’t help but hate him a little. Couldn’t he see just how very wrong they were together? She was sure people would see the imbalance of looks between them. If either of them was a masterpiece, it was him.

  But Brinley… She wasn’t worthy to be in the same room.

  He looked at her, studied her, and then at the sheet in his hand before passing it to the modiste who’d suddenly appeared at his side. “This one,” he said. “In a dark purple. It will bring out the loveliness of her eyes.”

  “As you wish, my lord,” the modiste said. “Plum? Mulberry?”

  “Wine,” Lore instructed.

  “Yes, you have a wonderful eye.” The modiste looked at Brinley expectantly.

  Brinley blinked and then turned to Lore. “I said no, and you said I should be left to make my own decisions.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.” He grinned. “The mob cap will have to go as well.”

  “Oh, yes!” Everly jumped in, then bit her lip as if realizing she shouldn’t have.

  Brinley huffed. “No. There will be no dress.” She could not bear the ridicule that would bring.

  “Go get measured,” Lore said.

  Her eyes rounded. “I have answered this question before. Are you deaf?”

  Lore moved suddenly. His arm went to the back of the couch and he leaned in close.

  Improperly close.

  “Go get measured or I’ll do it myself,” he whispered. “Right here with my bare hands and without the assistance of tape.” Then he leaned away. Barely.

  She held his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

  He grinned slowly like a Siamese cat.

  Brinley shot up from her chair and turned toward the room that sat behind the curtain, cursing Lore with every step.

  She doubted that he’d have embarrassed them
in such a way. Had he touched her in front of so many others, he’d have been forced to wed her. She could have called his dare but hadn’t been able to take sitting next to him any longer.

  She hated him.

  Hated him!

  Hated him!

  * * *

  ”Bravo,” Hero said, once the other women followed Brinley to the fitting room. He took the seat Brinley had occupied. “Had we not had our little talk on the street, I’d have thought your words true.” His gaze mocked Lore.

  Every word from Lore’s lips had been true, which his brother clearly knew.

  He did like her eyes and thought the color and her hair would make them shine. He also liked her spots. They were sprinkled across her nose and emphasized how small her features were.

  “What did you say to her?” Hero asked. “When you whispered in her ear?”

  “What I had to,” Lore said as he leaned back in the cushion. The actual words themselves would never be repeated to anyone.

  “You like her, Lore.”

  “I’ve already confessed to that.” Lore crossed his arms and changed the subject suddenly. “Helen wished to tell me why she lied that day, but she won’t tell me in front of others.”

  Hero frowned. As Lore expected, the information would steer his brother’s mind elsewhere. “So, Asher was right. She is up to something.”

  “Clearly... or perhaps, she truly wishes to tell me the truth.” Lore shrugged and sighed. “I don’t know what to believe.”

  Hero lifted a brow. “Have you agreed to meet with her then?”

  “Of course not,” Lore said. “Though I can’t imagine what she thinks to gain from meeting alone. I’d never touch her again, even if she were the last woman alive on earth.”

  Hero nodded. “Good to know her looks still hold no spell over you.”

  “I have since seen the light,” Lore said.

  Hero smiled. “Yes, and her name is Brinley.”

  The curtains were thrown open with such effort that Lore was sure had there been a door there would have been a loud smack.

 

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