He was looking at her with that same humor in his gaze, clearly knowing her thoughts.
He proved it with his next words. “I’m sure I can handle anything you throw at me.”
Her face burned with excruciating heat.
Then Lore moved toward the horse’s front without a word and began to inspect his teeth.
As though his hands had not just been on her.
As though she were not still trembling from the contact.
“I’ll return to the others now,” she said.
He nodded his understanding though his attention was fully on Jupiter now.
She’d been outdone by a horse.
With that, she turned and started out of the stables.
* * *
Lore lifted his gaze as Brinley turned and marched out of the stables.
A pressing thought would not leave his mind.
He’d nearly kissed her.
That moment when she’d turned to him and been but a breath away, he’d nearly leaned forward and placed his mouth on hers.
She’d smelled sweet. He recalled the tray of tea and small cakes that had been set out on tables after the meal last evening.
She’d smelled of warm apples just a second ago.
He’d seen something flash in her brown eyes and had enjoyed their color from so close.
There were small dark sunspots scattered across her nose, cheek, around her full pink lips.
And for a moment… just a fleeting moment… he’d wondered how she’d taste.
Though there would be those who’d not believe it, he’d not kissed a woman in years. And though he’d been a horrible rake, that was one thing he’d thought too intimate an act, something he’d forbidden all his lovers from doing.
There’d even been ladies who’d tried to catch in dark alcoves at parties, yet he always refused. He didn’t even entertain the thought.
Until Brinley.
He’d attributed the thought to nothing more than the fact that he’d been forced to spend time with her, more time than he’d had to spend with any other woman in the past.
Still, he didn’t like the thought, didn’t like his weakened resolve...
Almost as much as he didn’t like realizing just how soft she’d felt underneath his hands. Her body had yielded to him perfectly.
When she’d pressed into him…
It had taken everything within him to keep smiling.
He’d been glad she’d departed before she’d seen his body’s reaction to her.
What was wrong with him?
After checking Jupiter’s hooves, he stepped back.
His mind wasn’t even on the animal, but the woman who’d taken him out that morning.
Lore put his hands on his hips.
Was it wrong that he was interested in kissing Lady Brinley?
Perhaps, he should.
A kiss had the potential to change her resolve about marriage, for though Lore hadn’t kissed a woman since Helen, he was sure he still recalled how it was done.
No, he finally decided. He’d not kiss her. It would be wrong. It was best to not lead the woman on. When it was all said and done, Lore had nothing to offer any woman but a few memories.
He’d continue the course he was on until Jupiter was in his possession again but keep his distance emotionally.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 0
Brinley found the party she’d ridden with earlier that day amongst an even larger crowd standing in the middle of the outer bailey.
A line of curricles had formed from the coach house.
Not one of the hundred men and women present even noticed her approach, which suited her just fine. She was still shaking from the feel of Lore’s hands on her body.
The impression of his fingers on her hips still lingered.
She tried to concentrate on the commotion and quickly learned that an outing was being planned. Already everyone who’d been a part of the riding party had changed into their morning clothes. It also seemed the rest of the house had woken, and many were set for a picnic in the hills not far from here.
Lord and Lady Hero were leading the party. He sat ready at the front in a phaeton.
Brinley went to stand by her sister, who happened to be on the other side of the vehicle.
Her husband, Lord Dalewell, was looking the transport over and said, “This is a fine vehicle, it is not? I’ve always wanted one of these.”
Phaetons were the young man’s vehicle. A little dangerous with its openness, yet with its high perch and low body, many thought it the most romantic way to get around.
Brinley glanced up and noticed that neither Lord nor Lady Hero heard him. Their attention was toward the other side of the phaeton where the crowd was discussing who would ride with who. The curricles only held two passengers at a time. Coaches were being used for larger families.
Only Brinley and her sister heard Lord Dalewell’s words.
Dalewell looked over and seemed surprised to see Brinley standing there. He blushed. “Oh, Lady Brinley, will you be joining us for the excursion? I hear there are ruins to be seen.”
“Oh, Brin, you must come,” Arabella said, grabbing her hand. “You can ride in the curricle behind Benedict and me.”
“Why not?” Brinley had wanted to see this part of England anyway. Who knew? Perhaps she’d see a home that interested her. She’d soon have the means to get anything she wished. “Let me change out of my riding habit and I’ll join you.”
“Hurry,” Lord Dalewell said. “We’re to leave within minutes.”
Brinley almost sprinted to her room. If the party left before Lore finished with Jupiter, there was a high chance that he would not come.
On her way out, she found Everly in the hall. She, too, would be joining the party and insisted they partner in the curricle.
“Is it true?” Everly asked a moment later, nearly bubbling with joy. “Are you and Lord Lore courting? I’ve heard a rumor that he’s about to ask for your hand.”
“What?” Brinley nearly shouted and had to lower her voice. Her heart threatened to beat its way out of her chest. Gossip spread in castles just as quickly as it did in the drawing rooms of London. “Where did you hear that?”
“From the riding party during breakfast. Are you hungry?”
Strangely, Brinley’s stomach grew upset at the thought of food. That had never been an issue for her in her life!
“Everly,” Brinley said, addressing her friend by her name. “These rumors have no founding whatsoever.”
“I don’t know,” Everly said as she placed her arm in Brinley’s. “The riding party said that you two barely left the other’s side and that you slowed your horse in order to be alone.”
She’d slowed her horse to be with him!
It was all absurd!
If anything it was he who’d not left her side.
They walked out together, and Brinley easily spotted her sister and brother-in-law in an open curricle toward the back. “Everly, do not encourage these rumors. There is no attraction between us.”
Everly walked with her. “Brinley, there’s no need to protest. Lord Lore is a handsome man. Even you cannot deny it.”
She would. With her every breath.
Yet to her dismay, Brinley was quite out of breath by the time she arrived.
“Allow me.”
She’d made ready to give her hand to a footman but paused at that voice.
It was no footman who stood by her but Lore.
Her lips parted as she stared at him.
That irritating, gorgeous, knowing smile curved the corners of his mouth.
She told herself that the only reason her heart raced was because she was irritated, though she knew that made no sense. She knew it was something else.
He took her hand when she didn’t take his and helped her into the curricle.
Brinley had barely taken her seat when Everly said, “Perhaps I should ride in another curricle.”
“No.
” Brinley took a calming breath and ran her palms over her skirts. “No, we shall ride together as planned.”
Lore chuckled. “That’s quite all right. I plan to ride with my sister.” He helped Everly up and then winked at Brinley before departing.
The cad!
She glanced around and found her sister watching her from the curricle ahead of them.
“My,” Everly whispered. “If that isn’t a declaration that something is going on between the two of you than I don’t know what is.”
“He clearly had something in his eye,” Brinley said.
“Clearly,” Everly giggled and took the reins of the curricle from the footman.
* * *
“What are you up to?” Valiant asked Lore once they were alone.
Lore pretended to focus on driving.
The day had proven itself perfect for a picnic in the hills. The sun was warm, but the breeze cooled the air.
Bees bobbed by the white cow parsley sprinkled by the edge of the road and beyond into the green fields.
They were headed east, in the opposite direction of town and toward his home.
The former was all Lore cared about. He’d not join the party when they headed into town. That was one excursion he’d not partake of.
“When is Lord Beaumont set to come up?” Lore asked, changing the subject to her husband.
“He’ll be here within the week, I am sure. Now, do not think I can be distracted so easily.” Even though she was shorter than him, she managed to look down her Curbain nose at him.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lore finally said.
“Don’t take me for a fool, Lore. I saw you! Everyone is talking about it. You and Lady Brinley. I swear, I’ll never forgive you if you hurt her. Never. She’s a sweet girl, Lore. She doesn’t deserve to be teased.”
Lore turned to his sister. “What if I’m not teasing her?”
Valiant opened her mouth and stuttered. “I… But I thought you had no plans to marry.”
Lore chuckled. “What if I’ve changed my mind?” If he was teasing anyone, it was indeed Valiant.
He had a feeling Brinley was not taking him seriously. There was her tone when she spoke to him and the way she kept trying to run from him at every turn. He was finding it to be half the fun of pretending to take an interest in her.
Though he had to remind himself that it was all pretend.
He was indeed becoming comfortable with his mission and more so when several gentlemen approached him about her. He and Brinley were spreading like wildfire through the party. Lore neither claimed or denied interest in Brinley, but he did take a moment to point out all her finer attributes.
She was smart. Humorous. She was neither weak nor easily given to emotions.
He didn’t mention that she smelled like freshly baked apples and cinnamon or that she felt far too soft to be real. He thought that too much.
“Lore,” his sister called in a bright voice. “Are you truly taken with Lady Brinley?”
He wondered if using his sister to further his cause was a good idea. Then he decided to simply do it. “What man wouldn’t be taken with her? She’s a fine lady.”
Valiant gasped. His words would likely be spread all over the picnic before the blankets had been spread.
He dearly hoped so.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 1
Brinley had barely left her curricle when she heard her name called.
“Brinley.” Her mother approached in a rush of red and white striped skirts with an exasperated expression. She barely acknowledged Everly as she grabbed Brinley’s arm and started away.
Brinley looked back at Everly and saw the woman raise her chin.
Brinley followed the action.
I’ve done nothing wrong.
I’ve done nothing wrong.
The place the curricles had stopped was magnificent. The hills rolled into the distance with homesteads, grazing cattle, and crops spread out beyond the horizon.
A forest rested at their backs and beyond that lay the ruins of Lockmoor Castle.
She watched as other guests stepped down from their curricles and coaches, rushing to get a good spot on the grass. The breeze was strong where they were, causing a few ladies to grab hold of their bonnets.
Lady Tellock locked her arm through Brinley’s. The gesture startled her. She couldn’t recall the last time her mother had touched her, much less in public.
Despair flooded in at the thought. She closed her eyes and steered her thoughts elsewhere. Her mother was speaking. What was she saying?
“Imagine my surprise when Lady Vincent informed me that my own daughter was on the cusp of an engagement to Lord Lore,” the countess went on. “I’ll have the truth from you right this moment. Did you start these awful rumors?” Her blue eyes were hard.
“No.” Brinley felt cold. “I would never…”
Her mother sighed and looked resigned. “Brinley, I can’t begin to count the number of times you’ve disappointed me.”
Brinley’s very birth had been a disappointment. Lady Tellock had wanted a boy and when Brinley grew to be ugly, her mother had often commented that it would not have mattered if she’d been a gentleman.
Brinley had hoped that Oliver’s birth would have improved their relationship. She and Lord Tellock had finally given birth to their heir.
But no. Nothing had changed. Brinley would remain the family disappointment, the one no one wanted.
It was a moment later that she realized her mother was pulling her away from the group at large and toward the forest. In the distance, she could hear laughter and the practicing of violins as the quartet began to tune their instruments.
“Why have you insisted on throwing yourself at Lord Lore?” Lady Tellock asked. “Have you thought of no one but yourself in this matter? The humiliation that will befall your father and me when Lord Lore is forced to approach your father and beg him to get control of you. Did you think no one would witness your obsession with him? It's revolting.”
“It isn’t me!” Brinley was crying. Weeping with great breaths. She desperately hated to cry. She was glad her mother had thought to drag her into the trees. She didn’t want anyone to see her break down like this.
Brinley hated herself more than anyone at the moment. Why couldn’t she be as pretty as her sister? Why wouldn’t she stop eating? She’d tried that once and had fainted on the third day. Nothing ever worked. Nothing she did was ever right in her mother’s eyes.
“Am I to believe then that it is Lord Lore who has taken an interest in you?” Lady Tellock asked.
“No.” Brinley wiped her face and when she looked at her mother, she stilled.
There was disgust in her gaze as she looked Brinley over.
She wanted to die.
“You will end this,” her mother said briskly. “You will… stop this immediately. Am I understood? I can’t imagine what you were thinking.”
“I’ll stop it,” Brinley promised, unable to take any more from her mother.
“Good. Take your time getting yourself together before you join the party. I must see to your sister and make sure she and Lord Dalewell are well.” She left Brinley alone then.
She’d have never left Arabella, but then again, Arabella was beautiful.
Brinley refused to return to the party. She didn’t have it in her to be merry or to act strong. She didn’t want to eat. She didn’t want to breathe, but she couldn’t stop the last without taking drastic measures.
She couldn’t pretend, and so, she went deeper into the wooded area.
Though the day was bright, the thickness of the trees made a shelter that kept most of the light away. It was also much cooler than the hills.
She’d run away like this once in a forest by her house. She’d wanted to make her parents sad, make them miss her. She’d been glad when a search party had found her three hours later. She’d been sure that worry would have driven her mother to tears and that all w
ould be well again.
But instead, the countess had locked Brinley in her room for a week. She’d seen no one but the maid who’d brought her food. Her mother hadn’t even greeted her upon her return.
Arabella, who’d been three at the time, had cried for her. She’d never doubted her sister’s love.
Oliver loved her as well.
That made her smile, but the smile broke under the truth of her mother’s hatred. It was likely the countess would not mourn Brinley’s death. She was more than glad to send her away.
What had she done to deserve such loathing?
She’d tried and tried, but it was never enough.
A tree root she’d not seen tripped her, and Brinley fell hard into the dirt, scraping her hands. As though falling and soiling her clothes was just what she needed.
A lock of hair brushed her cheek, some of it trailing in the dirt. She reached up and felt for her cap. It was gone. She looked around and found it just ahead, floating in the mud between two root legs from the tree.
She didn’t get up for a moment. In fact, she thought about simply staying there forever, letting the forest grow around her as she decayed.
The sound of a twig snapping resounded through the forest.
Brinley turned over and found Lore standing there.
Would the man never leave her be?
He took a step toward her. “Let me help you.”
“No, just go away.”
“Please.” There was pity in his eyes. Had he heard her mother?
The further embarrassment brought tears to her eyes.
He approached and held out a hand.
“No, I said.” Brinley glared at him. “I understand that you are not well versed in German, but I do suspect that your English is above reproach, my lord. I would very much like to be left alone.”
He continued to hold out his hand, irritatingly.
They gazed at one another.
Brinley turned her eyes away.
Lore sat next to her. He bent his knees high and rested his arms on top. It was only then she realized just how large a man he was. His body was all muscle and grace.
He was looking at her with sad eyes.
The Perfect Gentleman (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 6
