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

by Deborah Wilson

  He sat at the other end of the table from his father and executed his own level of power in the room and used much of that power to make Beatrix squirm under his scrutiny.

  However, neither Valiant nor Lore allowed her to feel awkward for long. They’d been so glad to have her and their brother on good terms again. She was beginning to feel as though she’d known them for quite some years, even though it had only been a month.

  Hero had repeatedly given her reassuring smiles and his position at her side allowed him to whisper information to her every once in a while.

  The low timbre of his whispers had her quite aware of him as a man and had nearly made her regret that they were friends again. The feelings that had started to grow for him were now like vines, crawling all over her and disrupting her thoughts as they flowered and came in full bloom.

  Conversation flowed easily around her, though she struggled to listen. There was discussion on the weather and the various parties they’d each attend for the week.

  Lord Murray said to Redgrave, “Did you know I asked your brother to become Secretary of Foreign Affairs?”

  Beatrix became quite interested in that topic, especially when Hero became soured by it.

  “I did not.” Redgrave turned to his brother. “You’d do remarkably well at such a position.” And there was a tone in his voice that made it clear it was his wish that his brother took it.

  “How wonderful for you,” Valiant said.

  Hero lifted his hand. “I’ve not accepted the position as of yet.”

  “Why not?” Beaumont asked. “It would be a very powerful position. Imagine what you could do for trade agreements.”

  Beatrix read between the lines. Beaumont was thinking of what his brother-in-law’s position could do for him.

  Lord Reddington turned to Ayers. “You were Secretary of Foreign Affairs once, were you not?”

  “I was,” the duke said with a fond smile. “But only for a year, right after Mr. Charles James Fox himself.”

  “It’s a prestigious position,” Redgrave said to his brother, again making his position on the matter known. He would become the leader of the Curbain family once his father passed and was plainly exercising his authority.

  “General is a prestigious position as well,” Hero countered.

  “Secretary of Foreign Affairs puts you in less danger,” Redgrave argued. “It keeps you home.”

  Beatrix gladly became a supporter of anything that would keep Hero safe.

  Hero’s gaze darkened.

  The situation seemed ready to get out of hand.

  Ayers lifted his hands and chuckled. “Let us steer the conversation elsewhere.” He turned to Beatrix. “I’ve not met your brother, the Earl of Dalewell. Reddington tells me he has. Is he in town?”

  “I do not believe so, Your Grace,” Beatrix said with a nervous glance to Reddington. She wondered what the two dukes had discussed about her family.

  Lord Reddington smiled. “Knowing your father, he’d have loved to see you like this. You look like your mother. Don’t you think so, Sarah?” he called to his wife.

  Beatrix’s cheeks stung, and she looked down at her plate.

  “Just like her.” Lady Reddington turned to Beatrix. “How fortunate it was that you had family to see to your needs. Your brother must feel relieved.”

  Beatrix smiled painfully, though the truth was, she didn’t even know if her brother was even alive and that bothered her.

  She could—should—find out, she supposed, but she feared the consequences of searching for him. Would he come to her if he knew where she was?

  Beatrix hoped he didn’t come to London just as much as she was anxious to see him again. They’d been so close as children, but the last few weeks they’d had together had been strained at best.

  She’d forgiven her brother. It had taken her a long time to do so.

  She’d been in the wrong when she’d left. She’d had a duty she’d not performed, yet at the same time, Beatrix would not change the decision she’d made. The issue between them was stranger than most.

  After the meal, Lord and Lady Reddington decided they would skip the rest of the evening's entertainment and retire early. This was done with compassionate looks for it was plain that the duke was growing tired. He looked as though he’d grayed slightly.

  Lord Murray left as well, but Hero stopped Beatrix from saying her goodbyes.

  He stood by the door before the others and said, “I need everyone’s presence in the library.” His expression was pleasant enough but didn’t give away whether the discussion was of a grave matter or not.

  “What is this about?” the duke asked in a voice that reminded everyone he was still the duke. He leaned heavily on a cane.

  “All questions will be answered in the library,” Hero said to his father as he held his arm out to Beatrix.

  “Lady Gillingham is to come as well?” Redgrave asked with a lifted brow.

  “She is,” Hero said.

  “Are you sure?” Beatrix asked. Now that the intimacy of the evening had increased, she desperately wanted to depart.

  “I insist,” Hero said, as though he were able to read her thoughts.

  She took his arm and realized what the meeting could be about.

  Hatcher.

  Had the dog been found in a day? And in what condition?

  She had her own questions she wanted to ask, but clearly, Hero didn’t wish to discuss it until they were all in the library.

  They were leaving the vestibule when she whispered, “This is clearly an intimate situation. There’s truly no need for me to come.”

  “There is every need,” he responded.

  The library was as grand as the rest of the mansion with a high ceiling, casement windows, a bay window, and French doors that led out toward the garden.

  There were few chairs. Lord Beaumont assisted his wife to one and Beatrix was allowed another.

  There was a writing desk in the corner and Hero’s father took that seat for himself.

  “What’s this about?” the duke asked again once he was settled. The words were sluggish, and his gaze wavered, though Beatrix knew he’d not had a sip of wine that evening. The duke didn’t drink at all.

  The walk from the dining hall to the library had left him flushed and his limbs shook, though she could tell he was trying to control them. He hadn’t allowed assistance to the library, yet as she looked at his children who stood around the room, she knew that each and every one of them would do anything for their father, including carrying him if they must.

  Hero moved from Beatrix’s side. “As you all know, I’ve been on the hunt for Hatcher.”

  Valiant gasped. “Did you find him?” She glanced around the room, looking for the animal.

  The party waited for his response.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 7

  Beatrix watched as Hero turned to the door. A footman had been standing at the ready and moved at Hero’s nod.

  The door opened, and Beatrix heard the uneven scraping of nails on tiled floors before a dog with a mass of coiled white locks limped into the room.

  The animal was breathing hard and fighting to walk, yet needed no guidance or encouragement to find his owner. There was happiness in the dog’s face.

  The duke’s trembling was clear as he lifted his hand and Hatcher went to him, rubbing his face against Ayers’ palm before settling his head on the duke’s thigh.

  Ayers took a deep breath. There were tears in his eyes, and he had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Where… did you—”

  “Paddington,” Hero said.

  Ayers nodded but didn’t bother to try and speak again. He was clearly struggling to hold in his emotions. Hatcher had begun to whine as though he, too, had missed the duke.

  Beatrix noticed a portrait of the dog and the duke on the wall, both a decade younger. She was forced to wipe away her tears to get a good look at it. She wanted to weep at the joy that was clearly on the du
ke’s face. Hatcher’s continued whining only made the moment harder to bear.

  Lore chuckled and had to wipe a tear from his own eyes. “Old Hatcher is trying to speak his pleasure at seeing you.”

  Valiant was openly weeping, and Beaumont had a steadying hand on her shoulder.

  Redgrave held himself together well. His hands were behind his back as he stared at his father. “This is a momentous occasion and reason to celebrate.” He turned to the footman. “Champagne. Tea for my father.”

  Hero and the duke were the only ones who wore smiles. “I’d not have found him if not for Lady Gillingham,” he was saying. “I asked around and happened to find a young man who knew where dogs from the street were being taken.”

  That confession had everyone turning to Beatrix.

  She pressed her back into her seat and quickly rushed to blot the last of her tears from her eyes. Embarrassment made her cheeks sting. “Oh, I didn’t do much.”

  “Nonsense.” This surprising exclamation came from Redgrave. “My brother has allowed you to stay, so clearly you were quite important to Hatcher’s rescue.”

  “Well, that is another matter,” Hero said. “I didn’t rescue Hatcher. A Mr. Landseer did. He’s a private tutor. He took Hatcher for his son Jacob, who is six and apparently quite fond of old Hatcher.”

  Hatcher had finally stopped whining and had begun to lick the duke’s hand. The action did nothing to lower the duke’s dominance in the room.

  Ayers turned to Hero. “I would like to meet Mr. Landseer and Jacob.”

  Hero bowed to his father. “I thought you might. They are here.”

  “I’ll speak to them in private,” his father replied. Then the duke turned all the power of his clear blue eyes to Beatrix. “I can never thank you enough, my lady. The dog was a gift to me from my wife. Until I depart from this world, I am in your debt. Anything you need of me, you have only to ask.”

  Beatrix shook her head. “Oh, thank you, Your Grace, but I am made glad just to see you happy.”

  Ayers’ gaze gentled as he stared at her.

  Beatrix worked to not move in her seat.

  Lore laughed again. “She is quite a gem, is she not?”

  “Yes,” the duke replied. His eyes didn’t leave Beatrix for a minute, and Beatrix clamped her hands in her lap and tried to become invisible.

  Valiant sniffed and said, “Actually, Father, Bee has not had her coming out ball yet. I was hoping—”

  “Yes,” her father said. “She must have it here and soon.”

  Soon? Why soon? Did he believe his time short?

  Beatrix didn’t know what to say to the duke’s generosity. To have her ball at the Duke of Ayers’ mansion would make it clear to the ton that she had his seal of approval.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” Beatrix smiled.

  And again, Redgrave surprised her. “You must reserve a dance for me, my lady.”

  She’d seen Redgrave attend a few parties and even a ball, but aside from dancing with his sister and the hostess of the events, Beatrix had learned quickly that the earl danced with no one else. The master of ceremonies at Almack’s even avoided his eyes, never pressuring the future duke as he did the other gentlemen to dance with any available lady in the room.

  “It would be an honor,” Beatrix told him, for she knew that it would.

  The family cleared the library so that Hero could present his father to Mr. Landseer and his son.

  Valiant took Beatrix to the drawing room and said, “My brother wishes for you to wait for him. He’ll return you home.” Joanna’s presence in the carriage would make the journey appropriate.

  Beatrix waved her friend and Lord Beaumont goodbye and then settled on the couch.

  The events of the night danced across her mind and when she thought of Hatcher, she could not help but think of her brother.

  Would a reunion with Dalewell bring her such joy?

  Hero walked into the drawing room sometime later. She wasn’t even sure if five minutes had passed. With Joanna downstairs, they were alone.

  He walked across the room toward her, a pleased expression on his face. “Once again, you prove that our meeting was not just coincidence but fated. I’ve never seen my father so pleased. He’ll not forget what you’ve done. A Curbain does not forget a debt.”

  Beatrix stood and swallowed. “Is that part of the reason you decided to be the benefactor for my Season?”

  “Only part, but truly, I was grateful that you’d taken me in when you didn’t have to.” He took her hands, and she praised herself for placing her gloves back in place as he kissed both of them. “You are the most generous woman I know. My father thinks so as well. I may have told him how we met after you left. He’ll want to thank you in some grand way.”

  “The ball will be quite enough,” she said.

  He chuckled, clearly in a good mood. “Your heart is so big, I wonder how you keep it contained.”

  She didn’t know how she contained it either, especially when it seemed to jump whenever he was near. “I’m only glad we found him in time for your father’s birthday. It was a wonderful evening.”

  He lowered one of her hands and placed the other on his arm. “It got better as the evening progressed.”

  As they left the room, she was reminded of the conversation at dinner. “What is it about war you enjoy?”

  “War? I don’t enjoy war at all.”

  “Then perhaps you believe the position as Secretary for Foreign Affair will grow tedious?” she asked.

  He grunted. “No, I’d enjoy it. Perhaps one day in the future, if the opportunity presents itself again, I will consider it.” Which only told Beatrix that he was not considering it now.

  They were on the stairs when he said, “I noticed you don’t particularly take with the soldiers at balls. Is there any particular reason?”

  She hated such discussions with him. It only reminded her of the one choice she could never have.

  “The officers are pleasant enough, but I would prefer a husband who I can spend time with,” she said. “A husband who is always away would not be my first choice.” And how could she settle for a simple officer when she preferred the general?

  He was silent as they walked the rest of the way to the door. The butler handed her shawl to Hero and left to get Joanna. Then Hero said, “I would imagine not. It takes a certain kind of woman to handle the distance.”

  She turned her back to him. “And would you marry such a woman?” She recalled how he and Lady Hugh had walked away from the dining room together. Was Lady Hugh the sort of woman he could love?

  You’re smart, beautiful, elegant, and kind-hearted. Any man would have you.

  She would never forget his words.

  He settled the shawl around her but kept his fingers on her shoulders. They were a light but very present weight on her body. “I would marry such a woman.”

  She turned around, her gaze wide. “I didn’t think you were interested in marriage.”

  He brought his hands down and settled them on her arms. Then he stared at her. “I’ve never been opposed to it completely, though I’ll admit that I’d not given it serious consideration until recently.” He waited a beat and asked, “Does my answer on the subject mean anything to you?”

  It did, yet shouldn’t.

  She looked away, no longer able to meet his eyes as her heart raced. What did he mean? “I…”

  She was rescued from answering when Joanna and the butler returned.

  Hero took his hands from her and escorted her to the carriage.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 8

  Hero blamed his question on the bliss he was feeling at how well the evening had gone. He blamed the champagne they’d toasted to his father’s happiness. He blamed the heavenly scent of Beatrix’s perfume, which he’d breathed in deeply when he’d placed the shawl around her.

  He blamed her beauty, kindness, and reckless nature that often overtook him when he was around her.

 
He’d been reckless tonight when he’d asked if his stance on marriage meant anything to her... as though she would consider him.

  But then there had been that look in her eyes that had seemed quite close to longing and then she lowered her face, but not before her cheeks had turned a rosy hue. She was the only woman who blushed around him in a way that didn’t make him feel it had anything to do with his title or rank.

  Had he embarrassed her or was it something else?

  He couldn’t find out so long as Joanna was in the carriage.

  After Joanna gave a heartfelt congratulations to him for finding Hatcher—which he received with warmth—they all fell into silence.

  He only had minutes to decide what he would do when they arrived. Should he press the issue or let it go? It was only with Beatrix that he felt hesitation and was always unsure of himself.

  He didn’t like it.

  That settled the matter completely.

  They arrived at her residence, and he helped her into the foyer.

  And before Beatrix could wish him farewell, he turned to Joanna. “Do not wait for your lady. She and I need to have a discussion.”

  Joanna looked at her mistress.

  Beatrix turned to him. “What is this about?” She didn’t comment that it was inappropriate for him to be in her home without his sister. There were no words of proper etiquette.

  He lowered his voice so that only the woman before him could hear. “It’s about us.”

  Beatrix bit her lip before she nodded at Joanna. “I can handle my dress,” she assured the woman. “Good night, Joanna.”

  The lady’s maid left.

  Beatrix asked, “Would you like to speak in the drawing room?”

  “I would prefer the garden, actually.” He needed air. He was already struggling to breathe, much less hold his composure, but he’d not leave tonight unfinished.

  * * *

  Hero was clearly nervous about something, and Beatrix feared her hopes would be for naught. When he said ‘us’ did he mean their friendship or more?