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

by Deborah Wilson

  Thankfully, she was still not as small as many of the other young women who frequented society, but he decided that no matter what Brinley did, she’d always be perfect.

  “Are you certain you could handle being my neighbor?” He’d easily slipped into a flirtatious tone and was finding that, more and more often, he only used it with her.

  Color crept into her skin. “Could you handle being mine?”

  “Every day.” He thought to stop his teasing he couldn’t help but realize just how good Brinley had gotten at it herself. She could now banter just as easily as he.

  Her words stirred an endless amount of ideas of just how easily he could handle her.

  He’d been fighting it for over a month. With more than a few gentlemen beginning to take notice of her, Lore knew he’d have to stop soon… before he took it a step too far.

  Before he tried to rekindle what they’d begun that day in the forest.

  Though that kiss had been innocent and nothing like the kiss he wanted to give her.

  That sort of kiss would come from her husband.

  He was nearly certain she’d marry. While Arabella was quite angelic with her childlike personality, Brinley was very much a woman that any real man would want.

  He let go of her hair, touched her soft cheek, and ran his thumb over her bottom lip.

  Her rushed breaths grazed his hand and her eyes became especially hooded.

  Touching her hair again, he stepped away from her and said, “Let’s eat before you return to the castle.”

  As was their usual plan, Lore made it to the castle before Brinley and was heading to his rooms when Lord Tellock stopped him in the hall just outside the parlor where it seemed a few gentlemen had gathered.

  Tellock was sporting a wide grin. “Lord Laurel, I knew you could do it, but I am amazed at how well you pulled it off. I have been hearing pleasant things from other gentlemen. A few seem interested and have asked me if you’ve already asked for Brinley’s hand. This is all thanks to you.”

  Lore didn’t return the smile. “So, you’re pleased?” He hated to speak of Brinley in this way, as though she were not a lady but a house.

  “I am. So much so that I’m giving you your horse now. I am no longer in need of your service. I want you to part from my daughter so that the other gentlemen do not get the wrong idea.” He winked. “We can’t have a whisper of scandal at a time like this, now can we? We must continue delicately.”

  Lore stared at Tellock and wondered how he’d react when Brinley told him that she didn’t wish to marry. She was no longer considered ‘young’ in the eyes of the ton. As a spinster, she’d not be ostracized for choosing to live alone.

  Lord Tellock seemed to glow at the prospect of Brinley marrying.

  “Brinley and I have become friends. Is there anyone in particular you like for her? Perhaps, I can sway her in that direction,” he found himself saying, all the while knowing he’d do no such things.

  Tellock’s eyes widened. “I expected your first words to be those of celebration over the horse.”

  Lore had almost forgotten the man had mentioned Jupiter. How odd.

  He had his horse back.

  He was happy, he supposed.

  “Thank you for allowing me the opportunity. Now, as to the gentleman…”

  Tellock shrugged. “Any titled gentleman with means would do. A lord. A viscount…” He smirked.

  Sillian? Lore wondered. “Well, I wish her happiness.”

  “She will be. You have my and my unknowing family’s thanks.” Tellock returned to the parlor and Lore continued to his rooms.

  Once the door to his private drawing room closed, Lore allowed the conversation to sink in.

  He was free of his bargain with Lord Tellock and more, the earl no longer needed him to spend time with Brinley.

  In fact, now that he thought of Tellock’s words, the earl had sounded as though he greatly wished Lore to step away.

  But not immediately. He wanted it done with care.

  The only issue was Lore didn’t want to part from Brinley.

  He greatly hoped her father approved of her plan to move to the country. Was he a fool to have already begun to chase after his own dreams of having Brinley for a neighbor, a constant friend who was but a ride away?

  His servants knew how to keep their peace. They could continue their private dinners if they were both agreeable to it.

  And perhaps more… if they were agreeable to it.

  He crossed to the chair by his empty hearth and took a heavy seat.

  Perhaps he was being selfish. Perhaps, deep down inside the place in her heart that Brinley hardly allowed herself to venture, she would be pleased to wed.

  Which meant that the only thing now standing in her way was Lore.

  He’d leave her to make her own decision and slowly let her go.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 1

  “I’m sorry, my lady,” Abigail, Brinley’s lady’s maid, said in a heavy French-accented cadence. “But I can simply not pull it any tighter.”

  Brinley held the front of her corset and stared at Abigail through the mirror. “What do you mean it can’t go any tighter? They are ribbons. Surely, you can fold the material in the back—”

  “I have been folding it.” Abigail held her gaze. “I’ve been folding it more and more for weeks, my lady, but now the corset is simply too big.”

  Brinley’s mouth gaped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Abigail looked down. “My lady does not enjoy anyone speaking about her weight or her clothes.”

  That was true. Brinley had lost and regained weight in the past. She’d hated it whenever Abigail brought it up, especially since her maid would always grow quiet again when the weight returned.

  But now Abigail was telling her that she’d lost enough to demand a whole new corset?

  The corset was built with the leniency for one to gain and loss of a few pounds. With ribbons in both the front and the back, Brinley hadn’t noticed the significance of her weight loss until now.

  She stared at herself in the mirror and saw no difference, but perhaps that was because she was looking at herself through her mother’s disapproving eyes.

  She didn’t feel any different either. “Are you sure, Abigail? Perhaps, you are doing it wrong.”

  The French woman looked offended. “My lady, I never do it wrong. Her ladyship needs new corsets and gowns and stockings, and dresses, and everything.”

  “New gowns?” Brinley asked.

  “I’ve been folding them as well,” Abigail said. “And stitching where I could day and night as is my duty.” The lady’s maid finally smiled. “My lady is a whole new woman. A new woman needs new clothes, yes?”

  Brinley didn’t see it, though was very thankful that Abigail had been spending so much time to make sure Brinley looked her best.

  Well, maybe she saw it a little in her cheeks.

  But the rest of her…

  Abigail, as if knowing her thoughts, said, “I’ve enough material in your closet to make a whole new gown. This, I would not lie about. You have lost weight. In the last six weeks, you have lost a stone at least. Maybe more.”

  Brinley laughed. “No, that can’t be right.”

  “I would never lie,” Abigail said.

  Brinley turned to her side and there she saw it. She was slimmer.

  She smiled.

  “Perhaps,” Abigail offered as she stepped back. “Your ladyship can borrow a corset from Lady Wycliff for the time being until you can have one made for yourself?”

  Brinley grunted. “Everly?” She shook her head. “I’d never fit in one of hers.”

  Abigail clicked her teeth. “Lady Wycliff is a woman with curves. A good size. Not thin. Not like those other women. Lady Wycliff is no small thing. With adjustments, I could unfold one of hers to fit you.”

  Brinley hesitated and then nodded. “All right. Go and ask, if you would.”

  Abigail left immediately.
>
  She returned with not only a corset, but Everly herself.

  “Brinley!” Everly proclaimed upon entering the room. Her lady’s maid stood right behind her. She grabbed Brinley’s hand as she approached. “I wanted to tell you that I’d noticed the change in you, but I didn’t wish to offend. I’m surprised you didn’t notice until now.”

  Her reason for keeping her silence was the same as her lady’s maid’s. Brinley hadn’t realized just how protective she’d been on the subject.

  “What will I do?” Brinley asked.

  “First,” Everly said. “We must return to the seamstress’ shop and have you fitted for your gown once more.”

  Brinley agreed and for the first time since she could remember, she was not at all dreading the coming fitting.

  They left the castle and returned with just enough time to rest and change for dinner.

  Brinley was in her room once more, feeling lighter in both spirit and size when Arabella arrived.

  Her sister sat on the bed. “Henrietta told me that you went to town and ordered a whole new wardrobe.” Henrietta was Arabella’s lady’s maid. “I am quite proud of you. Mama mentioned that you seemed to have shrunk in size a week ago and I agreed. You look lovely, Brinley.”

  Brinley grinned at her sister and believed such a comment probably for the first time ever in her life. “Thank you, Arabella.” Brinley unpinned her hair and joined her sister on the bed. “Of course, I’m nowhere near your size.”

  “No.” Arabella sat on her knees. “But one cannot deny your progress.” She grinned. “Tell me. Is it Lord Lore who has inspired these long morning walks of yours?”

  Brinley laughed, because it had indeed been Lore who’d inspired the walks, but not so she’d lose a few pounds. She’d wanted to get away from him… and then… she’d wanted to be with him.

  “I will take that as a yes,” Arabella said, seeming pleased. “Oh, I so hope that one day you are as happy with Lord Lore as I am with Benedict. He is truly the very best thing that ever happened to me.” There were tears in her blue eyes. She had that look she usually got when overcome with great emotions. Her lips slightly trembled and her cheeks pinked, yet she was still as lovely as a portrait. “I only wish I could show him just how much I love him. Prove my love.”

  Brinley covered her sister’s hand with her own. “Arabella, I don’t believe Lord Dalewell requires you to prove anything. You are both in love. Just continue to love one another.”

  “But I want to do more.” Arabella looked down, her brows furrowed. “I want to show him that I… understand him. That I listen. That I’ll do anything for him.”

  Brinley lifted a brow. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I want to get him a gift,” Arabella said. “But I fear I have little means to get him what I wish to. Unlike you, I spend my pin money quite quickly. It’s nearly gone once it’s placed in my hand.” She smiled. “But I have saved my money this month. All of it. And I remember you mentioning that you rarely use yours. So, perhaps you could lend me a few coins. Please? Benedict means so much to me.”

  Brinley had never seen her sister this way. Usually, when her sister asked for something, it was always for herself. Never for anyone else. It seemed to Brinley that Arabella had finally found someone she truly loved, someone to allowed her to see past herself.

  That alone made Brinley wish to help.

  She stood and went over to her trunk. Reaching for her coin pouch at the bottom, she took out what she knew she could give her sister while still having enough to get the house, and then turned back to Arabella.

  She gave Arabella the money. “Here you are. I hope Benedict is pleased with whatever you choose to get him.”

  Arabella’s eyes widened at the sum. “Oh, Brinley! You are the very best sister in all the world.”

  “Do you need help choosing something?” Brinley offered.

  Arabella shook her head. “No. I know exactly what I wish to get him. Thank you.” Her sister kissed her cheek and then ran from the room.

  Her sister’s happiness made Brinley’s own overflow. She didn’t know how she’d manage to rest before dinner, but she quickly found herself asleep and was not surprised when she dreamed about a certain man who’d taken her to a certain cottage that day.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 2

  “She’s looking for you again,” Asher whispered to Lore from where they stood in the shadows at the side of the music room.

  A poetry reading was taking place and had the entire party enraptured. There were great humor and depth in the performance from the well-known poet. Lore would have wished to sit and enjoy that presentation, but that opportunity had been taken away from him.

  “I know,” Lore said to his brother’s observations.

  Asher moved closer. “Have you made arrangements to speak with her?”

  Lore didn’t bother to glance in Helen’s direction.

  There was no point. He knew what he would find. The woman’s maneuverings had grown drastic in order to gain his attention, though she did nothing that would draw the eyes of anyone who wasn’t already aware of the situation.

  Lore’s family watched her closely. A few times, Valiant had to come to his rescue and pulled Helen away from his side for one reason or another.

  While Lore spent much of his time at Chesterhill, he was still required to join in on many of the events at the castle. It was the reason he’d missed so many of the meetings Brinley and Mr. Ross had scheduled about the stables.

  He was the ‘charming’ member of the Curbain family, and thus, they expected him to do his part to keep the party entertained.

  There had been plays from traveling actors, a few picnics, hunting, shooting, and parlor games to participate in and, at nearly every event, Helen found a way to his side.

  Tonight, he’d volunteered to escort Brinley into the music room so that they could hear the poetry reading.

  Yet at the door to the room, Helen had tripped and found his arm for purchase. Then she’d made a fuss of being clumsy and asked Lore to take her into the room.

  Saying no so publicly would have drawn attention, and Helen wasn’t the only guest from town who’d joined the party. Many local gentry and lords were present. Many recalled his friendship with Helen. Many still wondered why he’d left. He didn’t wish to give rise to gossip.

  So, he’d escorted her and Brinley to seats and had stepped away with a comment to return momentarily.

  That had been half an hour ago.

  He felt bad for leaving Brinley without his company, but a glance at her showed her to be listening quite contently to the performance.

  He smiled. He was not surprised to find Brinley taking pleasure where she could. For the most part, she seemed comfortable with her own company and he’d learned over the past few weeks just how much she enjoyed the arts.

  Helen moved her head and suddenly cut his vision of Brinley.

  “I have no intentions of meeting with her,” Lore said.

  “Perhaps, you should,” Asher said. “Find out what she wishes to say before this situation grows out of hand and people begin to wonder if anything is going on between you two. Do remember that she is married.”

  Lore looked at him. “You want me to meet with her alone?”

  “Not alone.” Asher’s expression remained cool as he spoke. “But we can make it so she believes you both to be alone. In the library, there is a false wall with a door. It blends so well that many do not think to look there before speaking. I believe Father had it put in for such an occasion. We shall have either Hero, Valiant, or even myself enter the room before you and Helen do. All you must do is ensure that she agrees to meet there and nowhere else.”

  Lore stared at his brother. “Asher, I didn’t know you could come up with such a diabolical plan of action.”

  Asher shrugged. “I suspected you would eventually wish to know the truth of this scandal. I would rather you do it on my terms than your own. You have the tendency
to not think before you act.”

  Lore glared but had to agree with his brother. He was impulsive. He’d been that way at the card game when he’d lost Jupiter.

  He’d also been that way on the day he’d kissed Brinley. The kiss had broken barriers that Lore didn’t know how to repair… or if he wished to.

  “I suspect Valiant will be present for propriety?” Lore asked.

  Asher nodded. “Otherwise, I would rather not have her involved.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Lore asked, “So, I don’t embarrass the family?”

  Asher stared at him. “Yes, because you are my brother. The former is the answer you want, the one you care the most for, is it not? You’d rather I care nothing about the family name or legacy?”

  “No,” Lore had no idea how they’d got to this topic but neither did he wish to let it go. “I just want you to care about your current family more than the legacy. Don’t let the title consume you.”

  “I am the title, Lore. It has already consumed me,” Asher said. “I am the Duke of Ayers, and I would never shrug the duty of family.”

  “Duty,” Lore shook his head.

  “What?” Asher pressed. “Does duty offend you?”

  “What about love?” Lore asked. “Do you love me, Asher? Do you love Hero or Valiant?”

  Asher hesitated and then said, “You are my brother. How else would I feel about you?”

  “You can’t say it, can you?” Lore asked.

  “This conversation is over,” Asher turned to the room just as everyone began to stand. The hour had passed. “Helen is walking out with Brinley. I would suggest you intervene if you wish Brinley to agree to any proposal of marriage without reluctance.”

  The comment proved that Hero had not told Asher the reason Lore had been spending so much time with Brinley.

  Deciding to not tell Asher the truth—for reasons even he wasn’t sure of—he began to cross the room.

  ∫ ∫ ∫