This, he’d told himself, was no lightskirt, but a gentleman’s daughter.
He should have known something was wrong when she proved herself to be experienced. There had been none of what he’d believed to be her naturally demure nature once the door to her bedchamber closed.
And there had been no hymen to break.
They’d made love throughout the afternoon. He’d been so drunk on her that he’d hardly realized the time.
They’d been caught by none other than Mr. Landon himself, who had cut his trip short.
Lore had tried to comfort Helen, who’d burst into tears and become incoherent.
Then he’d offered for her hand.
And had been refused.
Helen’s father would have likely made noise about it if Helen hadn’t been recently engaged to a young knight who’d been on the brink of creating a cylinder metal container to store food. It was set to change the way the world kept food forever.
Lore hadn’t known a thing about Lord Norton until the moment he’d been caught with Helen.
It was no wonder she’d begged him not to ask for her hand.
Not yet, she’d always said without reason.
At the rejection, Lore, for the first time in his life, had envied his brother Hero, who by everyone’s account was not as dashing as Lore, but nonetheless more impressive. Hero had become a general in the military by his own merits.
Clearly, Lore, being the third son of a duke, had not been much to Mr. Landon.
Then, as a final blow, Helen had told her father that Lore had forced her.
In response, Mr. Landon, who didn’t want to ruin his daughter’s chances of marrying Lord Norton, spoke to Lore’s father and had Lore removed from the church.
Lore’s father had died thinking him to be guilty.
“At the time,” Mr. Landon said as he called Lore’s attention, “I believe Helen was too confused to know the truth, but she has since made it known to me. I’ve brought her here to apologize to you.”
Did her father truly not know what sort of daughter he’d raised? A liar? A schemer? Anger boiled in Lore’s blood.
He hadn’t seen Helen again but would always remember the look of surprise and the weeping that had followed after they’d been found.
Of all the many meetings Lore had thought to have in his life, he was unprepared for this. Three years he’d had to live a man in exile from a community he’d loved dearly. Three years he’d had to wonder if his own family believed his innocence.
Yet any surprise he’d felt by this meeting vanished under his rage.
“Helen?” Mr. Landon prompted.
They all turned to the silent Helen.
She looked just as timid as usual, like a rose whose petals would bruise if one touched her too roughly. But slowly, she lifted her head and stared into Lore’s eyes. “You will never know my depths of pain, my lord. I was… not myself that day and what followed… I have done you a great disservice. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me just as the Father’s heart is forgiving.”
She spoke of God while her lips formed lies? Helen had no limits, he knew that now.
Even now she lied, pretending to be something she was not.
“Lore?” Asher’s expression gave away nothing of his own feelings. He looked mildly detached from the entire scene.
Lore hated it. He hated that Asher had allowed them into his home. He was ready to leave. He would leave if it were not for Jupiter. His father had always thought the worst of him. He’d get the horse back if he had to beg for it.
Asher squeezed his shoulder and brought his mind back to the situation.
A gentleman was never to hold a grudge against a woman, especially when she apologized. They were the weaker sex. They were to be seen as precious and sensitive. Lore was supposed to forgive her. A Curbain would do so without hesitation.
And for that reason alone, Lore forgave her, but that didn’t mean he wished her anywhere near him. “As you said, it is all in the past.” He bowed to them both. “You may leave the castle knowing there to be little anger on my part.”
Asher spoke again. “Mr. Landon and Lady Norton are to remain for the party.”
Lore looked at his brother with wide eyes but cooled his expression and grinned. “Wonderful.”
“Let me show you to the receiving room and introduce you to our guests,” Valiant said with a bright smile. “Will Lord Norton be joining us as well?”
“He’s away,” Helen quickly said. “He will not be joining us.”
Lore had never met her intended. He’d left before the man arrived. Lore had heard that Lord Norton owned land close to Wales and that was where he and Helen had made their home these past few years.
“Well, he’ll be missed, I’m sure,” Valiant said as she ushered them from the room.
Lore could feel Helen’s eyes on him but didn’t bother to look her way. He didn’t speak again until Mr. Landon was out the door. “You invited them to remain for the party? After what she did to me?”
“You had no business at the lady’s home,” Asher said. “Had you been more in control of yourself, this would have never happened.”
“So, you blame me.” Of course, he did. Asher had become high in the instep since taking his seat. Lore didn’t even know him anymore. Asher used to laugh. He was loyal. Now he clearly only showed loyalty to his title.
“I don’t blame you.” Asher rounded the table and approached Lore.
Hero grunted and glared at the door. “That woman is lucky we live in a civilized world. Otherwise, she’d have been severely punished. She could have cost Lore much more than his position as a clergyman. He could have been imprisoned if her father had tried to make noise about it. I’m with Lore. They shouldn’t be here. I don’t trust her.”
“Neither do I,” Asher said. “Which is why I want her here, under my roof, around my servants, where she can be watched.”
Lore frowned at his brother. “Do you think her to be up to something?”
“Your name was heard whispered around the village, my servants inform me,” Asher said. “She is the likely source. I want to know what she’s after.”
Lore couldn’t think of what that could be. “What is your plan?”
“You leave that to me,” Asher said. “I’ll not allow them to ruin our family’s good name. For now, be cordial, if you can be.” He lifted a brow in question.
So, his brother had a plan, but it wasn’t to protect Lore, just the Curbain name.
Lore bowed. “I will try my best not to embarrass you, Your Grace.” With that, he swept from the room.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 5
“Are you sure?” Brinley asked Lord Sillian. They’d been speaking about Benjamin Franklin after it was discovered that he’d stayed at Ayers Castle for a fortnight nearly sixty years ago. That discussion had led Lord Sillian to speaking about Benjamin Franklin’s kite experiment.
“He wasn’t actually struck by lightning?” Brinley asked.
Sillian smiled. “No. In fact, neither he nor his kite were touched by the lightning. Had that happened, he’d have surely died. However, the lightning proximity charged the key he’d placed in the jar at the end of the kite, making a sort of triboelectric effect, if you will.” He spoke animatedly and with his hands. He was clearly fascinated by the subject and that alone had spiked Brinley’s interest.
She had always been interested in strange phenomenon. However, it seemed that most of the rest of those who’d gathered in the receiving room were not. Only she and Everly stood in their small corner by the fireplace.
The guests were all waiting for dinner.
Brinley had spent most of the past three days in her room, not only as a means to get away from Lore, but to keep away from her mother as well. As much as she hated to admit it, her mother’s words still plagued her night and day.
This issue had gotten to the point that Brinley was almost relieved at seeing Lore. He’d stolen her from h
er solitude the moment he saw her and, in his most irritating way, managed to steer her mind from her worries.
He was a pleasant person. One could not deny it. They’d walked the gardens together, had taken Oliver to shoot arrows from the donjon, and had simply sat around talking for hours about everything and nothing.
It would seem that their moment in the forest had caused them both to lower their walls and allow the other in, or at least Brinley had. Their time together, though orchestrated, still managed to be building a genuine friendship.
She now knew enough about his family history and his own childhood antics to write a book or even a series of books. Yet she didn’t know much about his years after twenty and beyond. He’d purposefully avoided the last few years of his life, which only made her wonder more about it.
When she wasn’t near Lore, Brinley used most of the time she had to improve designs or spend hours reading the books she’d brought with her.
But being social was one of society’s rules that Brinley enjoyed. Whenever she was in the mood, she could always find someone to speak to. Usually, there was Lore, but Lord Sillian was always willing to share his knowledge as well.
“How does the triboelectric effect work?” she asked.
Everly sighed but only loud enough for Brinley to note.
“Watch.” Sillian grabbed a decorative bottle from the mantel and then a fur blanket that had been thrown over the chair in the corner. He rubbed them together and then slowly pulled them apart.
Now Everly was just as interested as Brinley.
The hairs in the fur were rising, drawn to the bottle. “The friction charged them. Can you see?” Sillian asked.
“Friction has been known to have similar effects on people,” Lord Denhollow said as he approached with a dashing grin. His comment had been crude, but the lady on his arm either didn’t mind or had no clue as to the nature of the man she held onto.
Brinley had never seen the woman before. She kept her face lowered, but her pale eyes rose as she looked around the room. She was beautiful and seemed nervous about everything her eyes found.
She had a timeless beauty. Her features were slim. Her mouth small. Her hair was like spun light. It was no wonder Denhollow had found her. Though Brinley wouldn’t pretend to know him well, he was a true rake.
“Viscount Sillian, Lady Wycliff, Lady Soulden,” Denhollow said. “I would like you to meet Lady Norton.”
Everyone showed their respect for the young woman.
“How do you do?” Everly asked with her best welcoming smile.
Lady Norton brightened at Everly’s friendliness. “Hello. It is lovely to meet you.”
Brinley wasn’t sure, but she swore that the woman looked her over, measuring her. But perhaps she was wrong.
“I found poor Lady Norton being surrounded by the guests.” Denhollow puffed out his chest. “Lady Beaumont was shuffling the frightened woman about. And naturally, I rescued her. Slipped her right under Valiant’s nose.”
Lady Norton blushed. “You’ve been most kind.” Then she looked around at everyone, batting her lashes. “Are you all close friends of the duke’s?”
“No,” Everly offered. “I am closer to Lady Beaumont myself.”
Denhollow said, “And like myself, Sillian is closer to Lord Laurel… as is Lady Soulden.” The tone in which he’d said her name suggested something Brinley did not like.
Lady Norton’s eyes flashed. Her astonishment was no surprise to Brinley.
“Lord Denhollow jests,” Brinley said with a touch of humor.
Lady Norton smiled. “Of course.”
Valiant arrived. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She looked at Lady Norton and then the others in the circle before turning to her newest guest. “Dinner is about to start. Allow me to show you the way.”
“Do you sit at the head table?” Lady Norton asked Denhollow.
“I do tonight,” he informed her.
She smiled prettily.
“You will join us as well, Lady Brinley. Lady Everly,” Valiant said. “I do hope that Lady Norton manages to make the very best of friends while she is here.”
The footman arrived to announce the meal and Lord Sillian offered an arm to both Brinley and Everly while Denhollow brought in Lady Norton and Valiant.
Brinley’s heart raced. She’d never sat at the head table, not that she hadn’t been invited before. She was, after all, slightly a relation, thanks to Arabella, but she’d avoided it whenever she got the chance.
There’d been no chance tonight.
The meal was informal, yet Lord Ayers still took the head of the table followed by General Hero and Lord and Lady Dalewell, and another gentleman she didn’t know. Looking him over, she noticed his eyes were similar to Lady Norton’s and guessed him to be her father.
Brinley also noticed that Lore was nowhere to be seen as Lord Sillian and Everly took the chairs on either side of her.
Lady Norton sat across from her between Valiant and Denhollow. Brinley looked around the table, but when her eyes returned to Lady Norton, she found the woman to be watching her.
The woman lowered her gaze and then looked toward the door again. She brightened.
Brinley looked and noticed Lore stroll in.
He was tables away in the great dining hall, his tall lean figure striking against the flood of others who tried to find seating.
He was also angry. Though he didn’t make his state of mind obvious to the room, Brinley could sense it for some reason.
There was shuffling, and Brinley looked over to witness Lord Denhollow move down one seat, leaving a spot next to Lady Norton.
Lore would take it, Brinley was sure. She was a beautiful woman and just the sort of distraction that Brinley would never have been able to come up with. She wanted his attention elsewhere, and now she was now going to get it.
She only wished that she didn’t have to sit around to witness it.
She all but saw the end of their friendship.
Lady Norton’s head was not down.
Lore moved closer and saw the open seat.
Sillian called Brinley’s attention then. “As I was saying before, the kite experiment was done before Benjamin Franklin thought to try it, though everyone attributes it to the man, because—”
“SIllian.” Lore grabbed the back of his friend’s chair. “I fear you’re in my seat.”
∫ ∫ ∫
1 6
Sillian lifted his hazel gaze to Lore and frowned. “Your seat? I thought we were informal tonight.”
“We are,” Lore said with an expression of humor. “But you are in my seat.”
Sillian stared at him and then instantly stood.
The viscount moved to sit across from them, next to Lady Norton… who still had her head lowered.
Brinley was amazed to see Lore take the seat beside her.
Amazed and shamefully happy. She nearly never got what she wanted.
He was something she shouldn’t want. Not as a friend. Not as anything else.
But her heart wouldn’t listen.
They smiled at one another, but there was something different about his smile. Something she didn’t like.
“Lady Norton,” Everly called. “You never said how your family was acquainted with Lord Ayers.”
“Our families have been neighbors for generations,” the girl said.
“Then you’ve known each other long?” Everly directed her gaze to Lore then.
Brinley looked at him.
“No, we’ve not,” Lore said with hauteur. “Though time is never a good measure of how much you know anyone. You can know someone for years, speak to them every day, yet never truly know their heart.”
Was it just Brinley, or had there been some heat in his tone?
Lady Norton bit her lower lip. “Yes. I attended a school for girls in Bath most of my life… after my mother died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Lord Sillian said. “It is a
tragedy to lose one’s mother.
Lady Norton blushed. “Yes.”
The first course was brought to the table and silence descended for a few seconds.
“Lady Brinley has a most captivating mind,” Lore said a moment later. Then he turned to her. His knee brushed hers under the table and stayed there, making it hard for her to think.
What was he doing? Was he flirting with her? Though they’d spent days together, he’d calmed his heavier displays of insincere affections.
“Did you attend school as well?” Lore watched her sharply, his smile suddenly becoming genuine.
Brinley blinked. She wanted to push him away but didn’t know how to go about doing so without making it obvious. “I…”
“Oh!” Lady Norton exclaimed as she dropped her spoon into the bowl and pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I didn’t know the soup would be so hot.”
“It is too hot?” Denhollow asked. “Shall I have a footman cool it for you?”
“No.” She smiled at him. “But thank you. That was very gallant of you.”
Denhollow took the praise with pride.
Lore gently knocked her knee under the table. “Lady Brinley, I’ll have your answer now, for without it I’ll go mad.” He smirked.
Brinley wanted to throttle him. He’d already gone mad if he’d rather flirt with her than with Lady Norton.
Why was he doing this? Flirting with her when he’d not done so for the past few days?
“I was tutored at home,” she said sharply.
“Ah.” Lore knocked her again.
Brinley slipped her hand under the table, placed it on top of his knee, and tried with all her might to push him away.
Lore leaned into her ear and whispered, “Try touching me a little higher.”
She pulled her hand away as though it had been scalded. Her face had, she was sure of it. She turned around, or rather, turned toward Everly.
And found her friend to be trying to engage Lady Norton in conversation, but the meek woman was stuttering over her words. It was adorable on her. On Brinley, the action would have made her appear light in the head.
The Perfect Gentleman (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 8
