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

by Deborah Wilson

  She could take no more of this. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “What am I doing?”

  “This is about the horse, is it not?” She knew very well that it was.

  Lore’s eyes flickered with astonishment and he straightened. His lips parted as he was momentarily at a loss for words. “How… did you find out?”

  “It was obvious from this morning’s ride and your insistence to check the horse.” It was a lie, but even if Brinley hadn’t heard the conversation that had happened between him and her father, she was certain she was wise enough to have guessed it from Lore’s behavior during the ride.

  She’d have known that Lore had no interest in her as a person. No one did.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “I’m a selfish cad.” He looked away and color touched his cheek. His embarrassment made him irresistibly adorable. He looked back over at her with beseeching eyes. “The horse… Jupiter, he’s important to me.”

  “How did you lose him?” she asked.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 2

  “I lost Jupiter in a game of cards.” Lore didn’t enjoy speaking about his failures but knew that Brinley deserved the truth now more than ever.

  He’d heard her and Lady Tellock’s conversation. It had horrified him to know the amount of pain he’d caused Brinley, a kind woman who was clearly used to taking the blame for everything.

  He’d caused her hurt. She had the right to ask of him anything she wished.

  “I was fourteen when he was born. He’d been bred for racing and won often as he got older.”

  “Why did you bet your horse if he meant so much to you?” Brinley asked.

  He wondered if she was aware that during her fall she’d lost her cap.

  Likely not. Her hair had fallen into a heavy mass of tight and loose curls around her shoulders. It was as though her hair could not decide how it wished to be. It was wild and dark as it framed her face, making her look like a forest creature or even the very keeper of the woods.

  In a word, she looked as though she’d been well tumbled.

  He was far too charmed for words.

  Lore smiled. “I gambled Jupiter away because my father willed him to me.”

  Brinley frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  He wasn’t sure if anyone would. “My father was sick for a long time before he passed and before he died, he began to draft his will, telling everyone in the family what they would get when he left. I suppose you can say I resented him for it.” He’d never told anyone that, especially not his siblings. He feared their reaction to such hard words for a man who’d loved them all equally. “Over and over again, he asked me what I wanted...” He shook his head.

  “I understand,” she said. “What you really wanted was for him to live.”

  “Yes, and even more than that—“

  “You wanted to him to want to live,” she whispered. “He was resigned to dying.”

  “Yes!” Lore’s eyes widened. “Was it not enough that our mother was dead? How many times did the man need to mention he’d be leaving us, leaving me, as well.”

  She sighed. “I’m so sorry, Lore.”

  He was moved by her compassion, especially when he considered the great pain he’d caused her. “Don’t feel bad for me. I feel terrible about the strife I’ve caused between you and your mother.”

  “Don’t worry about my mother and me.” She gave him a slight smile, but her bottom lip trembled.

  “Brinley.” He turned his body to her, keeping one leg raised as he rested the knee closest to her by her hip. It brushed her slightly. She gasped, but he quickly regained her attention with his words. “In these last few days, I’ve learned a great deal about you. You’re intelligent. You talk circles around gentlemen yet manage to do it without making them feel small. You’re kind—“

  “How would you know?” she asked. “I’ve been purposefully rude to you.” Her eyes seemed more intense when framed by her wild hair.

  “Arabella clearly thinks you hang the moon and your brother enjoys you. Children, I’ve always thought, are the best judge of characters.”

  She smiled. “As do I.” She looked away. “I adore Oliver.”

  “Have you ever wanted children of your own?” he asked.

  “Oh, I plan to.”

  He frowned. “I thought you had no plans to marry?”

  She turned to him with a sharp gaze. “There is more than one way to have a child, my lord.”

  His eyes widened as he thought of what her words implied.

  Hers did as well and then she laughed. “I mean to care for children who’ve been left and forgotten.” She laughed again.

  He settled and chuckled. “Forgive me. You gave me a fright.”

  “I’m not some loose woman who gives herself to any man,” she said. “Clearly.”

  “Clearly?” he asked.

  She lifted a brow. “Do not mock me. I was very grateful that you did not compliment my looks in your list of my finer attributes. I will not have dishonesty between us.”

  She wanted honesty? “I nearly kissed you when you were coming down from Jupiter.” How was that for honesty?

  His heart raced as her eyes widened and her color darkened.

  Then she shook her head. “For a moment, we were nearly friends. But if you’re done being truthful with me…”

  “It is the truth.” He paused for a moment and said, “I think you’re beautiful. We should kiss.”

  “What?” She was back to looking mortified. “Absolutely not.”

  He laughed. Women didn’t usually refuse him. “Are you sure? Have you done it before?”

  She lifted her chin. The tough Lady Brinley was returning. “I have not and shall not, especially with you.”

  “What is wrong with me?” he asked, holding out his arms. “You know, before we met, women found me rather charming.”

  She gave him a look that reflected his tedium. “Fools, the entire lot of them.”

  He laughed again.

  She smiled.

  He stood and this time, when he offered his hand, she gave hers to him. He helped her up easily. When she started to dust off her clothes, he reached for his handkerchief, ready to assist. “Allow me.”

  She cut him a look. “Don’t you dare.”

  He gave her his best innocent look. “But who will reach your backside for you?”

  She gasped and laughed and shook her head. “Lord Lore, you will cease this game at once. I know the truth. There is no reason for you to continue to flirt.”

  He lifted a brow. “But I can’t stop, my lady. You see, your father still has Jupiter. So, until I get my horse back, you are stuck with me.” And he truly didn’t mind spending time with her. She was not the dull woman everyone thought her to be.

  She decided then that she’d not ride Jupiter again, not because she didn’t wish to be ‘stuck’ with Lore, but because it was a hurtful thing to parade around on the animal he loved most.

  “But my mother,” Brinley said. “She doesn’t know my father’s plan, and I have no intention of telling her. She’ll only hate me more. Please, we must stop this. Now.”

  Lore moved around her and picked up her cap. “I’ll deal with your mother.”

  She grabbed her hair and began to twist it into a knot. “How?”

  He smiled. “As I keep telling you, most women find me irresistible.”

  He was rewarded with a blank look and then Brinley held out her hand for the cap. He didn’t want to give it to her, but he did.

  Once the cap was in place, Lore grabbed Brinley around her waist and brought her close.

  Her hands landed on his chest, and the blank look was overcome with fear.

  “One kiss.” He just wanted to know what it would be like.

  She licked her lips. His gaze was drawn there until she spoke. “Why?” Her voice was different. Small and quiet.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  She didn’t respond verbally, but there was
a rise in her chin that he suspected meant she approved.

  He placed his hand against her cheek and lowered his mouth to hers.

  He found her soft and sweet. He had a pressing urge to try to kiss her with a totality that would quench the very depths of curiosity, leaving no part of her pliable lips and warm mouth untouched.

  But he didn’t kiss her that way. He was gentle. Their lips locked. He brushed his tongue against her sealed mouth.

  She sighed into his mouth, an audible sound in the quiet of the forest, and then he pulled away.

  Her eyes were closed for a moment. Then she opened them.

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He felt his lips curve.

  They remained as they were for a moment.

  This was by no means love, he told himself, though he did feel an intimate connection with her. Hidden between the foliage and walls of trees, Lore felt better than he had in many days— months even.

  It felt like the beginning of a friendship.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 3

  When Lore emerged from the trees, he was happy to note that Brinley had obeyed him and gone to sit by her mother.

  He’d sent her ahead of him so that they’d not be seen leaving the forest together. He hadn’t shared his plan on how he planned to calm her mother’s ire. Not even when Brinley had begged and threatened him with bodily harm.

  His only instruction: sit by her mother and say no.

  From where he stood a few paces away, Brinley looked stiff as a pole. She had a shawl around her to hide the dirt stains from the forest, but the fabric only made her look round, not revealing the curves he’d felt when he’d taken her from his horse. Her mother was sitting with a group of other ladies and dowagers, her back toward Brinley. It spoke volumes of Lady Tellock’s lack of character.

  The countess was easily one of the best-dressed women at the party, but Lore had since learned that her fine gown hid ugliness.

  How dare she make Brinley feel less than anyone else? He turned his gaze away from her in an effort to cool his growing anger.

  He caught Brinley’s eyes and did not mistake her small head shake of disapproval. She didn’t want him to approach. She was warning him away.

  He gave her his best determined expression and continued on his course until he was at their side. “Lady Brinley,” he said, louder than necessary. “I was hoping you’d join me for a stroll. This hill is one of my favorite places. I wish to share it with you.” He was laying it on thick, he knew.

  Brinley’s eyes flashed with murder.

  His lips twitched. She was adorable.

  He had every lady in listening distance’s attention now, but he looked at no one but Brinley.

  “No, but thank you, my lord,” Brinley finally said. “I’d rather remain here with my mother.”

  There was talk now, the buzz of whispers.

  “I must insist,” he said with a grin. “Though these hills may look like any other, they are indeed not. You’ll enjoy the view, I’m sure.”

  Brinley smiled tightly. “I am enjoying the view from here but thank you.”

  “Lady Brinley, please…”

  “Brinley,” her mother hissed. “Do not keep Lord Lore waiting.” Her eyes danced with surprise as she looked between them. Then she openly smiled at Lore. “It would be my daughter’s honor to accompany you.”

  Lore held out his hand.

  Brinley glared at him, and he had a notion she was not pretending when she did it. Then she took his hand and, after he tucked her hand in his arm, they started away.

  “One of your favorite hills?” she scoffed. “Am I also to suspect that you intend to show me your favorite blade of grass as well?”

  He laughed loudly, letting himself go, knowing he drew quite a bit of attention. “You jest, but truly, this is my favorite hill. You can see the castle from here and also my own homestead, Chesterhill Manor. That is what I wanted you to see.”

  * * *

  Brinley stared out at what looked like a small white house in the distance, though she knew the house would be much larger up close.

  “It isn’t far,” he told her. “One could walk there if they were determined. I plan to ride there.”

  “When?” she asked.

  “Eventually.”

  She looked over at him. Though he wore a hat, his hair still fluttered by his ears.

  She was surprised by all he’d shared in the forest. She was also surprised by the kiss, though she knew better than to believe the moment romantic in any way.

  It had been nice.

  Lovely even.

  She’d felt better afterward, but then her mother—with nothing more than a look—had ensured that all happiness had evaporated.

  Lore’s plan had worked.

  Her mother and her friends had all witnessed Lore come after her while Brinley had refused to be in his company.

  She looked back at where her mother sat. She and a few others from the party were watching her and Lore. Lore was making them the talk of the party. There’d be more talk when nothing came from it. When there was no engagement announced and he didn’t ask for her hand.

  She had to find a way to get Lore focused on something else.

  Already the thought of losing him hurt. She was enjoying his companionship, but that needed to end as well. He was far too handsome and far too charming for Brinley’s sensibilities.

  “Don’t let them bother you,” Lore said to her.

  “Easy for you to say,” she said as she turned away from her mother and the crowd. “There are fewer expectations for men when compared to women.”

  He grunted and looked over the hills at his home. “Perhaps, for other families, yes, but as for mine… Every Curbain has an obligation of some kind.”

  She recalled hearing that he’d been in the clergy. He’d not shared how that had come to end. Had he simply walked away once he’d realized the obligations too great for him?

  She stared at the house in the distance and decided her plan.

  * * *

  Three evenings later, Lore was on his way to the salon to await the call for dinner when a footman handed him a note from his eldest brother. He knocked on Asher’s office door and waited for his brother to allow him entrance.

  He’d had a grin fixed on his face, readying himself for anything the new Duke of Ayers would throw at him. He’d expected some mention of his neglect of Chesterhill.

  What he didn’t expect were the guests who were waiting in his brother’s office.

  Hero and Valiant were there, but his attention was stolen by the presence of Mr. Landon and his daughter Helen Landon, or rather, Lady Helen Norton now.

  Neither had changed much since Lore last saw them three years ago. Helen was still breathtaking. She watched him without expression. Her eyes were a pale blue that could have easily been mistaken for gray and her hair was so fair that the curls were nearly white.

  She wore an icy blue gown that fit her curvy body well.

  Lore, realizing he’d stared at her for what he knew to be long enough for the room to notice, looked away and approached Mr. Landon.

  Anger pooled in his belly, but he kept it off his face. Besides, he wasn’t sure who he was more upset with. He’d been all but ambushed by the presence of Landon and Helen. His brother could have warned him in the note but had likely and purposefully not.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 4

  “Lord Laurel.” Mr. Landon bowed.

  “Laurel,” Asher addressed him formally from where he stood from behind his desk. “Mr. Landon and Lady Norton have decided to visit. As our most prominent neighbor, it was only right that I extend them an invitation.”

  Traitor. This was Lore’s home and he should have been consulted before Mr. Landon had been allowed on the property.

  “I hope that will not be an issue for you.” Mr. Landon had the same hair and eyes as his daughter. He was not very old himself. Handsome and tall, he was
only in his forties. He and his wife had wed young. Helen had lost her mother at an early age. Why Landon had never remarried, Lore didn’t know and didn’t care to ask. “After all, what happened is now in the past. I see no reason for anyone to harbor ill will.”

  Lore did. “You accused me of forcing your daughter, my lord. Surely, you would think twice before allowing her anywhere near me.”

  Hero appeared at his side. He gripped Lore’s shoulder as if he were trying to restrain him. “There apparently was a misunderstanding,” his brother said in a cool voice. He clearly didn’t enjoy seeing Mr. Landon and Helen either.

  “Misunderstanding?” The word dripped with sarcasm as it left Lore’s lips.

  Helen looked at the floor and shuffled her feet. It was a look he was used to seeing on her. Meek. Innocent. But she’d since proven to him that it was all an act.

  Mr. Landon straightened. “Helen told me the truth a few months ago. It would seem… she gave herself to you willingly and had done so without informing you of her engagement to Lord Norton.”

  Helen.

  Never had he wanted to strangle a woman more. Her submissive air had been wholly attractive to Lore. He’d been seduced by her timid flirtations.

  They’d spent time together in public. He’d learned about her childhood, and he’d shared his own. She’d spoken of her hopes for her future, spinning fantastical stories that she knew would capture Lore’s heart.

  Within weeks, he was in love, and she’d shared that she felt the same. When he’d brought up asking her father for her hand and she’d insisted that he wait, he should have known that something was wrong.

  A few days later, a letter had arrived for Lore, addressed from Mr. Landon, who was ill at home and requested Lore to visit. Lore had gone but had quickly found out that Mr. Landon was not there. In fact, the man had left town the day before and would not be returning until some days later. Indeed, the servants had also been dismissed for the day.

  There had been only Helen.

  Lovely Helen with something he’d never seen in her eyes.

  Lore had known it wrong as he allowed her to lead him to her rooms. Every step of the way a voice had whispered in his head to turn back. To stop her hands from touching him. To prevent her kiss. To stop her when she’d begun to remove her clothes.