3 3
“Lord Laurel has always been a wonderful person,” Helen told Brinley, just as she’d been doing for the last few minutes. “He’s kind. Generous with his time. Sometimes too generous, don’t you think? There are times when his kindness can be mistaken for more.”
Brinley had tried ignoring the woman, but Helen did not wish to be ignored.
She’d spent a great amount of the last few minutes of the reading recounting Lore’s finer attributes, as if trying to find some common ground with Brinley. Then, as suspected, she’d begun to say more, though where their conversation was going, Brinley did not know.
She didn’t like that the woman was currently implying that Lore did not flirt with her intentionally. Brinley knew that. She even knew the reason he did. Though even Brinley could not understand why he continued to flirt with her when no one was around. Was Brinley, in fact, mistaking his kindness to mean more than it did?
“I believe I understand Lord Lore’s nature just as much as anyone,” Brinley said as she searched for anyone who would give her reason to break from Helen’s side.
“Yes, I suppose you do,” Helen said brightly. “I only implied differently, because sometimes those who do not know him well can become confused.”
Brinley frowned. “I thought you both agreed weeks ago that you hardly knew one another.”
“Oh.” Helen touched her cheeks. “Well, we don’t. Not as well as we once did. We’d grown close a few years ago, though I’m sure you know all about that. I’m sure he speaks of me often.”
Brinley stared at her and then turned away, having no intention of giving Helen the answer she sought. Whatever was going on between her and Lore was none of her business.
Though Brinley dearly wished her heart believed that. “Do you see Lady Wycliff anywhere in the room?”
Helen moved closer. “Would you call yourself his friend, Lady Brinley?”
Brinley looked at her. “I would.”
The woman’s brow furrowed. “Then you must have noticed that at times he is different than others.”
Brinley said nothing.
“I can make it right,” Helen said as she grabbed Brinley’s arm. “But Lord Lore must speak to me. Only then—”
“Lady Brinley,” Lore said brightly as he approached. “Lady Wycliff is looking for you. Come, I’ll take you to her.” Then he cut Helen’s next words off by saying, “Lady Norton, Lord Denhollow has agreed to escort you where you wish to go.”
Denhollow was there as well.
Lore grabbed Brinley then and walked away without another word, giving Helen little time to make a protest.
They were halfway across the room, moving through the crowd, when Lore asked, “What did she say?”
“She wishes to speak to you.” It was all Brinley had gathered that was worth repeating.
Lore clicked his teeth. “Don’t worry about her. I plan to handle it.”
Brinley smiled up at Lore. “I’m not worried about her at all, though I do worry about you.” She felt comfortable enough saying so. “Why do you avoid her?”
“She is manipulative, Brinley.” They left the music room, following the crowd toward the drawing room. A few of the men broke off and moved toward the parlor. Brinley caught her father glance between her and Lore and then away.
“How?” Brinley asked. She was surprised that Lore was opening up to her. Surprised and glad. “What happened?”
In the drawing room, they began to stroll around the room.
Lore stopped when they reached a fireplace. October drew close and the fire had been lit to ward off the beginning of cooler weather. He stared into the flames for a moment and the hardest thing Brinley ever did in her life was remain quiet.
Then he turned to her. “Three years ago, she claimed that I did something terrible to her, something that might have gotten a minor lord imprisoned or worse. Weeks ago, she revealed the truth. She told my family of my innocence, but…” He shook his head. “My father died over a year ago. It would have been nice if he’d been alive to hear her words.”
Brinley’s heart constricted. It was clear that Lore did not wish to share exactly what it was that Helen had claimed he’d done. Brinley didn’t want to know, though she feared she could guess quite easily.
Even with everything her mother had blamed her for in the past, she was certain that nothing she’d experienced could compare. His Grace, the Tenth Duke of Ayers, was gone and would never know the truth.
“Did your father think you guilty of whatever she claimed?” Brinley asked.
“He never said either way,” Lore said. “But I could see the disappointment in his eyes. I was not innocent of everything that took place.”
Brinley truly did not wish to know the circumstances he spoke of. She did not wish to imagine Lore with someone like Helen, yet she was exactly the sort of woman Brinley always pictured him with. Suddenly, she no longer felt as happy as she had that morning.
She felt a senseless guilt at their situation. She wished there was something she could do that would finally get him his horse so he was free to move on with his life. Until then, they seemed stuck in the most horrible way.
He’d not leave her until he had Jupiter in his possession and she’d not force him away until her father was appeased.
“She never told me why she lied,” Lore said.
Brinley swallowed. “Do you wish to know the reason?”
“I do.” Lore watched her. “But how will I ever know if it is the truth?”
Brinley thought for a moment and recalled an event from earlier that day. “I could have my lady’s maid ask hers. Perhaps, the woman is not very loyal to her mistress and will reveal the truth.”
Lore’s eyes widened, and he grinned. “Brinley, you’re as brilliant as you are beautiful.”
She laughed lightly. Hours ago, she’d have believed his words, but so much had changed her mood.
She was most relieved when Lord Sillian and a few others joined their circle and the conversation was changed to Socrates’ thoughts on the unknown.
* * *
“I believe if all goes well, I might ask Lady Norton for her hand,” Denhollow said moments later when Lore had stepped away from the group. Helen herself was nowhere to be seen in the room, thankfully.
“You’ll have a hard time getting her husband’s approval,” Lore said with sarcasm. ”And not because he’s currently away.”
Denhollow chuckled. “You’re right. I would have some trouble asking her husband. Lucky for me, he’s dead. I doubt he’ll fight the agreement.”
Lore stiffened and turned to the other man. “What did you say? Lord Norton is dead?”
The marquess nodded. “Three months now. He requested in his will that Helen not waste her youth mourning him, though she did skip the Season out of respect.”
Lore didn’t understand. “She told my brother that he was away.”
“Yes,” Denhollow said. “He’s away all right. In the grave. Helen didn’t wish anyone to know. Many would find her lack of mourning and presence at the party quite vulgar.”
It was vulgar in the eyes of the ton. Lore wondered how the man had died and if he’d known he was going to when he’d instructed Helen to not mourn in his will.
Had it been Lord Norton’s death that prompted Helen to tell the truth?
Lore didn’t know how he felt about that. It was clear she’d likely have kept her silence if her husband were still alive. Did he then rejoice at his death? Not so.
Whatever respect he’d found in Helen for coming forward as she did, she’d just lost it.
And it was likely her father knew the truth.
Which meant he, too, had lied to Asher.
What else was their family hiding?
∫ ∫ ∫
3 4
Brinley looked back at the group that moved through the trees and toward the castle. Many looked winded from their journey, but Brinley felt alive.
Dew still clung to the e
arth and the air. The sky was beginning to fade into a true blue. The feeling and sights had become exactly what Brinley needed to begin her day.
When she’d announced a week ago that she liked to go for walks in the morning, at least thirty others had decided to start joining her, Lord Sillian being the first.
With a crowd present, Brinley had been forced to change her destination. She couldn’t go to Chesterhill Manor. Walking there would make the party wonder if she’d done it before.
And even still, Brinley wasn’t sure if she should return to Lore’s home.
For the last few days, she’d only seen him in passing, and she’d not had a meaningful conversation with him since their conversation by the fireplace last week.
Lord Sillian, on the other hand, had become very attentive, as had a few other gentlemen.
Yet,
she couldn’t deny that their presence only made her miss Lore more. She missed the time they spend alone and thought of him often. Yet Brinley reminded herself that Lore’s attention had been motivated for reasons other than true attraction.
They’d been motivated by Jupiter and some sort of sense of obligation to prove himself to his father.
She’d known from the beginning that nothing would come from Lore’s flirting, yet that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when it was absent.
She allowed Lord Sillian to pull her out of her thoughts as they entered the outer bailey.
Most of the party headed to the keep.
“My lady, would you walk with me for a moment?” Lord Sillian’s hazel eyes were warm. “I’m not quite ready to return inside.”
She smiled. “That would please me greatly. I’m not ready to return either.” She was used to walking far longer and farther than she had with the present group.
Taking her arm, he led her through the open field where they were visible to those who lingered.
“We seem to have much in common,” Lord Sillian said. “Would you not agree?”
“I would agree.” Brinley closed her eyes and took in a breath. She imagined the long mornings she would spend walking the woods around her cottage.
“And I enjoy my time with you.”
Hesitantly, she opened her eyes and found him to be staring at her.
He stopped walking and it forced her to stop walking as well.
“Lady Brinley.” Lord Sillian took her hand. “If it would be at all agreeable to you, I would like to ask your father for your hand. I find us to be compatible and myself to be very attracted to you.”
Brinley’s eyes widened. She’d not expected the proposal. She’d not expected any proposals at all.
But she’d definitely not expected Sillian’s last words.
He was attracted to her?
“My lord… I don’t know what to say,” Brinley said aloud.
But her mind shouted other things.
Lore had been right. Her father’s plan had worked. Lore had made it work.
And Sillian’s proposal was the product of a great big lie.
“Brinley,” Sillian said. “If I may call you that? I believe we’ve grown close enough for that.”
“I don’t even know your first name,” Brinley said.
“It’s Gideon.” His smile held some embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Perhaps, it was too soon. The party ends in less than a fortnight. I simply didn’t wish to lose the opportunity of having you as my wife.”
Brinley’s heart skipped. She’d never thought such sweet words would be directed at her. Her mind wasn’t prepared to accept it.
A silent part of her reminded Brinley that she did not want to marry. Marriage was not for her. She’d accepted that a long time ago. Marriage was for other people.
Yet now that voice seemed wrong.
She could marry if she wished.
But Lore would not be your husband.
That thought took her back. When had she started wishing to marry Lore?
“Brinley,” Sillian said, regaining her attention. “You don’t have to answer at this very moment. You can have time if you wish.” He seemed nervous.
Had he truly feared her rejection?
It was too much for Brinley to take in.
“Yes,” she said. “I mean, I’ll think about it.”
Sillian lifted her hand and kissed it, the gesture similar to when Lore did it.
Brinley recalled at that moment that if she married Sillian, she’d likely see Lore often. They were close friends, after all.
Sillian pressed her hand to his heart. “I hope you agree, Brinley. We’d be good together.”
Brinley couldn’t deny that she mentally agreed, but sadly, her heart was already taken.
* * *
Lore turned as Helen entered the library. He kept his eyes on her as he told himself not to look toward the false wall where he knew his brothers and Valiant to be standing.
This was it. It was the moment Helen had been working for and one where Lore would finally have his answers.
The library appeared empty. Quiet. Yet she looked around.
Not wanting her to look too closely, he said, “I’ll have the truth from you now.”
“Yes.” Helen seemed genuinely startled by his words. She licked her lips and approached him. She wrung her hands together and hung her head as she began to speak. “Lore, I want you to know—”
“No.”
Her head popped up and her eyes widened.
“No more games,” he told her. “You’re a confident woman. There is no reason to pretend when we are alone.”
A small smile touched her lips, one he knew his family could not see, but he was sure they could hear it in her voice. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just so very used to pretending.”
“Why?” he asked suddenly. He had many questions. He wanted to understand her. Perhaps, there was a chance that she was just as innocent as he’d been the afternoon they’d been discovered in her room. All he’d been sure of is that Helen had not intended for them to be found. Her father had surprised them both when he’d walked into her room.
She skirted around him and moved to touch the dark statue of a raven that sat on a table. “Do you know what it is to grow up as one amongst many?” She didn’t look at him as she spoke. “That was my life while away at school. While some children were loved and cared for by their parents, I was sent away. Tossed out, as it were.”
“Tossed out?” Lore asked. “Your father loves you. He likely only sent you away because he didn’t know how to raise a young woman. Your mother had died.”
She cut her eyes to him. “Yes. My mother had died. The least he could have done was keep me. Instead, I lost both my parents.”
For the first time, he felt some pity for Helen. He couldn’t have imagined not growing up as he’d done with his mother and father about. He’d not been sent away as many other young boys were to Eaton. He and his brothers had been raised by tutors at home. Mr. Landon could have hired a governess. He could not pretend to know everything about her situation. “Forgive me. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how difficult it had been for you.”
She smiled softly. “Thank you, and yes, it was difficult. There were always at least twenty other girls with me, all of them fighting for attention from the headmistress or the teachers. Some of them decided they’d get their attention by disturbing the lessons, but I thought of something better.” Her smile grew. “I became perfect. A true lady, but terribly shy. I was cosseted and loved by all.”
“By me as well,” Lore said.
“Yes.” Her smile grew. “You did love me, didn’t you?” She moved toward him then and tilted her head. “I wonder how much of your anger at me is only there to hide your true feelings.” She reached for his cheek.
He grabbed her wrist before she could make contact. “I don’t love you anymore, Helen. In fact, I never loved you, because I never knew you. Not the real you. The woman I loved was imaginary.”
“She’s still here,” Helen whispered. “We could pretend togethe
r, go back to the lovely afternoon. We could forget the world in each other’s arms.”
Lore frowned and returned them to the topic at hand. He wanted her away from him as soon as possible. “What happened that night, Helen? Why did you lie to your father?”
“Isn’t he obvious, Lore?” she asked. “I wanted you. I loved the way you looked at me. No one had ever looked at me as you did. Not even Lord Norton.” Her brows furrowed slightly. “He was always too busy to bother with me. Even when my father would take me to visit, he rarely pulled his head away from his books or left his little laboratory. He died in that room of experimentation. A fire destroyed him and his work.” She shook her head. “But you paid attention to me. I needed that attention, Lore, even if it was only for a night.”
“So, you used me,” he said. “You had no intention of ever marrying me.”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t want to be a clergyman’s wife, even to the son of a duke. Lord Norton gained his own fair share of admirers. Men came from all over to speak to him and I found ways to make sure I, too, gained their attention.” A devious gleam entered her eyes.
And any sense of pity he’d felt for her vanished.
“Your husband has been dead for less than three months and yet you laugh at the fact that you cuckolded him.” He let her wrist go and stepped away. “I understand that your husband’s letter asked you not to mourn his death but have some decency.”
Her smile faded. “Is that what his letter said?” She looked away and moved to yet another object in the room. “I knew Lord Denhollow would tell you. I might have lied about that to him and my father. It was the only way I could get my father to bring me here. Showing up alone, I was nearly sure your brother would have not allowed me entrance, but his Curbain dignity would not allow him to dismiss my father so easily.”
Lore prayed his brother was listening to her every word.
“So why are you here?” Lore asked. “I hope you do not believe that I’ve been holding a torch for you all these years. I’ll not marry you.”
“I’m not asking you to.” She spun around again. “I only want us to finish that night properly then we’ll never have to speak again.”
The Perfect Gentleman (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 17