“I shall pay tribute to this simple game,” Lore said.
It was not Brinley’s imagination that she’d heard Lore exaggeration of the word ‘tribute’. What did that mean? Was he trying to give her some sort of signal?
Tribute.
She giggled. The name of their imaginary first child. Did he wish her to play a high card?
She did, placing down her ace of clubs.
Helen scoffed and threw down whatever low card she had.
Lore did the same. Brinley won the hand and began the next trip around the table.
“I believe there comes a time when remaining where one is can become detrimental,” Lore said as he continued the previous conversation.
“Quite true,” Everly said on her turn, winning the hand and starting another. “I could not imagine my life had I remained the scared child I’d always been.”
Brinley could hardly believe that Everly had ever once been frightened. It seemed impossible. She was the strongest person Brinley knew.
Brinley grabbed another strong card.
“One should never give too much homage to the past,” Lore said.
Brinley grabbed her weaker card and bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Lore won that round for them.
“Well, trying new things isn’t always terrible,” Helen said. “But one shouldn’t forget how good familiar things could make them feel.” She smiled boldly.
Lore’s piercing blue gaze moved from Helen to Brinley.
Yes. I know all about your true association with Helen.
Brinley’s stomach dropped right before her eyes did the same. She hated being between them. She desperately wished they’d both leave her alone, though she knew that wasn’t completely true where Lore was concerned. He was irritating, yes, but she was nonetheless drawn to him.
The game ended quickly then. She and Lore won.
“Lady Helen,” Everly said as she stood. “Would you be so kind as to stroll with me across the room?”
“Actually…” Helen began.
“Come.” Everly started away, not giving Helen a chance to refuse. Now, if Helen wished not to go, she’d have to catch up with Everly to tell her so.
Helen sighed and rose. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Brinley knew what her friend was up to and wanted no part of it. She stood as well and started from the room.
∫ ∫ ∫
2 1
Lore followed Brinley out and cut in front of her in the hall. “What did she tell you?” he asked in a low voice. There were still people around them, mingling in the halls. The public rooms had all been opened for games and gathering.
“She has said nothing that matters to me,” Brinley said in a haughty tone.
“She told you about our night together.”
Brinley’s lips parted. “I just said it didn’t matter to me. Whatever happened between you and Helen would do little to affect our arrangement anyway. You and I both know that what is happening between us will lead to nothing in the end.”
He crossed his arms. “Still, it clearly makes you uncomfortable.”
She tilted her head. “Lore, I am caught between two lovers.”
“Former lovers,” he corrected. “And it was only the once.”
“Would this not make you uncomfortable as well?” Brinley went on. “I want no part of this.”
“I want no part of this either.” He looked away and imagined what the party would be like without Helen’s presence. He no longer regretted his agreement with Lord Tellock. The earl had a charming daughter. He wondered if the earl or the countess had ever taken the time to learn that.
Then his eyes fell to Brinley again. “I understand,” he said in a quiet voice.
* * *
Brinley once again felt as though she were being let in on a great secret where Lore was concerned. He was giving her yet another glimpse of the real man underneath all the showiness. “Is that why you’ve been distant today?” she asked. “So that I might have a respite from this tug of war between you and Helen?”
“No.” He smiled softly and leaned a shoulder against the wall. His golden hair and calming eyes caught the lamplight. “I wanted you to miss me.”
She stared at him and then lowered her head to laugh softly. “You’re quite conceited.”
“It worked, did it not?” he asked.
It had, but it was the very last truth she’d ever give him. “What does she want from you?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” he said.
“But she seems to be just as persistent as you,” Brinley said. “Perhaps, you should wonder just how far she’s willing to go to get her way.”
“What would you suggest?” he asked.
“Talk to her. It’s either that or deal with her following you around for the rest of the party.” Though for reasons Brinley didn’t wish to understand, she didn’t like the idea of Helen and Lore having any sort of conversation.
“You’re a good friend, Brinley,” he said suddenly. “I don’t come by those often. I’ll have to do something to show my gratitude.”
Her mind imagined another kiss. “You’ve stopped touching me. That’s gratitude enough.”
He leaned toward her. “Was that a complaint?”
She scoffed. “Exactly what about my words sounded like a complaint?”
“It was the sorrow in your eyes,” he whispered.
Brinley widened her gaze and only hoped what he’d said was false.
“Brinley, if you want me to touch you, all you must do is ask,” he said.
“Absolutely not.”
“Come.” He leaned even closer. “I won’t even upbraid you for the change of heart… much.” His hand, the one closest to the wall and out of sight, grazed hers.
Brinley snatched her hand away. “Stop that.”
“Brinley, can’t you see I’m in pain? Have pity on me.” He took her hand back.
She allowed him to hold it, all the while she glared at him, and inwardly at herself.
He smiled. “See? I’m feeling better already.”
“Is this how you get all the women you like?” she asked. “With pity?”
“I don’t know. I suppose we’ll find out.” He tightened his fingers on hers.
Brinley took her hand back. “I’m out of pity.”
“Shame.” He looked past her. “Run. Helen approaches.”
Brinley walked past him. “Good evening, Lord Lore.”
“Good evening, Lady Brinley,” he called from behind her.
* * *
“What you’re doing to her is cruel,” Helen said.
“Cruel?” Lore asked. “You mean by making it clear that I want nothing more to do with you?”
“No, I mean to Lady Brinley.” Helen looked past him and then into his eyes again. “She’s a sweet girl. She doesn’t deserve what you’re putting her through.”
He lifted a brow, not at all convinced of Helen’s concern for anyone but herself. “What exactly am I doing to Lady Brinley?”
“You’re making her fall for you though you’ll never do the same, not with someone like her.”
“You mean someone truthful?” he asked.
She pursed her lips. “No, I mean someone so very… stout.”
Lore straightened. “I’m done warning you. Speak of her in that way again and I’ll see you escorted out.”
Helen’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare. Your brother wouldn’t allow it.”
“He would if I made enough noise about it. Also, Tellock’s family has more value in this house than yours.”
“Oh, I forget, Brinley is nearly family to you.” Helen smiled. “You’re like brother and sister.”
“Trust me, my thoughts of Lady Brinley are far from familiar.” And they were. He did not see Brinley the way he saw Valiant. That would be impossible for him.
Helen gaped. “I don’t believe it.”
He laughed. “You don’t have to believe anything. Haven�
��t you learned by now? Your beliefs are no longer my concern. Good night, Lady Norton.” He walked away.
He’d gone but two feet before he heard a voice call him. Lord Tellock was coming down the stairs.
“I heard your conversation,” the man said once Lore joined him at the head of the staircase. “Quite convincing. I was nearly concerned when you didn’t spend time with Brinley today.” The man was grinning. “Shall you be tending to my daughter tomorrow?”
For a moment, Lore thought to end this ruse, but then he thought about Jupiter and the connection he’d had with the beast for over fifteen years. The horse had been the very best gift he’d ever received from his father. He’d die trying to get it back.
“Of course,” Lore said. “Your daughter and I are friends.”
“Naturally,” Tellock said. “Lady Brinley is brilliant. I’ve always thought as much. I’ve no doubts she’ll be wed before the year is finished.”
Lore was slightly surprised by the earl’s confidence, especially when he thought of Brinley’s strong aversion to matrimony. “I’ll do what I can.”
“It is all I ask.” Tellock walked away.
Lore turned to go to his room and saw Asher watching him. His brother was too far to have heard anything, but he never doubted Asher’s intelligence. Could his brother possibly know what was going on?
Lore didn’t bother to worry about it. He already had enough to deal with and one of those things was getting closer to Brinley.
∫ ∫ ∫
2 2
“It seems that you and Lady Brinley have grown quite close,” Valiant said to Lore a few days later as they walked the outer bailey. “Do you truly like her?”
“Of course, I do. She’s a clever woman and you know how much I enjoy astute people.” Though Brinley was too clever, since in the last two days Lore had yet to find a way to get closer to her without making a scene. She was still planning on getting compromised if he pushed her too far.
And Lore wasn’t sure why he tried pushing her. It wasn’t required at all. Her father’s plan only included that he speak to her and make a show of enjoying her company, but Lore was unable to be near her and not touch her.
He’d never touched someone so soft and, even more, he liked her reactions to him. There was a deep passion buried underneath that mob cap and bulky clothing.
“But you met Lady Brinley years ago,” Valiant said. “Why now?”
“Perhaps, it is our newfound proximity,” he replied as they moved closer to the festivities. The field had been opened to archery that morning. Ladies and gentlemen stood around with bows under their arms, doing far more chatting than actual shooting.
It was a sport that could be enjoyed by both sexes, an activity that showed off good deportment, strength, and elegance.
Brinley stood with the children, watching Oliver line up his bow for a shot. When his arrow hit the target, both he and Brinley glowed with open happiness.
“Would you like my help?” Valiant said. “I could make it so that she is always available to you at dinner and when we play games in the parlor. I could keep other gentlemen away from her.”
He opened his mouth to accept her aid and take her on as a further ally, but then he remembered that what he and Brinley were playing was nothing more than a game. She was supposed to fall in love with another gentleman or, at the very least, get close enough for one to make a true offer for her.
And for reasons unknown, that thought disturbed him in some way.
“No, that’s all right.” Lore stopped them when he noticed a small snake in the grass. It was a harmless creature. Still, it would cause great commotion among the women if it were seen. He called over Robert, one of the footmen, to take it away. “I can handle Brinley,” he said once they were underway again. “How is Lord Beaumont? Does he write?”
“I’ve not received a letter yet, but I’m sure he misses me.” Valiant smiled.
He left her in the company of Everly and a few other women before cutting across the grass toward Brinley.
Oliver had just lined up his arrow when he caught sight of Lore. “I’m pretending the target is the sheriff.”
“We’re in Nottingham again,” Brinley said with enthusiasm.
Lore turned to Oliver. “And are we to rescue Maid Marian once again?” In his need to spend time with Brinley, he’d also grown to know Oliver, since the two were often together. They’d played as though the castle were Nottingham and his governess the dastardly Prince John—who often made herself scarce for fear that Oliver would shoot her with an arrow—and Brinley as Maid Marian. Originally, Lore was Little John, Robin Hood’s best friend, but somewhere during the game, Lore had become Robin Hood and Oliver had become Little John.
Because, as Oliver put it, “Maid Marian is in love with Robin Hood.”
This had pleased Lore to no end and had infuriated Brinley.
“Of course, we are to rescue Maid Marian.” Oliver shot his arrow. “But today Maid Marian can defend herself. Brinley is a very good archer.”
“Thank you for saying as much, Oliver,” Brinley said.
Helen appeared as if from thin air, or as Lore liked to believe, from the bowels of the earth. “I’d like to see this display of grand skills.” She was surrounded by their wealthy neighbors with the addition of a few highborn ladies and lads as well. Somehow, the girl had become some sort of leader.
She’d done that in the past as well, Lore now recalled. Those he’d known from the church had loved her. It was the reason he’d feared returning. Helen would have ruled a Season had she ever been given the opportunity to participate. London was very lucky her father had held her back.
“I’d need a bow,” Brinley said, taking Helen’s challenge for what it was.
A footman approached with both bow and arrow.
Brinley felt the weight in her hands and then turned toward a target.
The arrow met its mark straight on.
Those who were gathered applauded, including Lore. He couldn’t help but notice how confident Brinley shot. It was clear that she and Oliver played Robin Hood quite often.
“Impressive, my lady,” Denhollow said genuinely.
Brinley nodded. “Thank you, my lord.”
“That was amazing, Lady Brinley,” Helen said with enthusiasm. “But please, you must do it again in the adult arena.”
The adult targets had been set paces away with targets much farther than the children’s had.
“Of course,” Brinley said with a smile. She took Oliver’s hand and allowed a servant to take her bow and arrow as they crossed to the other side of the bailey.
Lore followed the party through the grass, looking forward to Brinley’s shooting, yet all the while trying to come up with reason to progress in their own game of wills.
As he stared at the grass, he came up with an idea.
“Robert,” he called to the footman with a grin.
* * *
Brinley shot the first arrow. She hit the target’s face, but not the inner eye.
“Again,” one of the gentlemen said as he continued to the applaud with the others. The fact that she’d hit the target at all seemed to impress them, which only irked her further.
“Yes, surely, the woman should be allowed three tries,” said another gentleman.
The women spoke amongst one another, tittering and giggling, likely at Brinley’s expense. She couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but she was used to the childish antics of the ton.
“The wind is blowing north and west,” Lore said, coming to stand not far from her side.
“I know,” she replied as she was given an arrow from a footman. She didn’t want help from anyone, especially Lore. Not now.
“Come on, Brinley!” Oliver cheered while he hopped from one foot to the other.
She smiled at his zealous behavior as she lifted her bow once more.
Just before Brinley released, a shout came from behind her, and she turned to see the party scat
tering away.
“Run!” a lady said.
“Poisonous!” announced yet another
Brinley took a step away.
“It’s a snake! It’s enormous!” one of the other ladies cried.
Brinley searched the ground and saw the poor creature that everyone ran from.
A garden snake.
Oliver bent close. “Zounds! That snake ruined your shot!”
Brinley looked back toward the target and didn’t see her arrow.
“It went to the shrubs, my lady,” a footman said. “I’ll go and retrieve it for you.”
“Oliver! Step away from there!” Lady Tellock called from a distance, as she waved her son over.
Oliver, with a small pout, went to his mother.
Lore picked up the snake and handed it to another footman before turning to Brinley. “How unfortunate that such a small creature happened to break up your party.”
Brinley was actually glad to be rid of the others and, as she stared at Lore, she couldn’t help but notice how very pleased he seemed. She narrowed her gaze at his approach. “It amazes me how a snake seemed to have come from nowhere.”
“Oh, they’ve been known to do that.” Lore took her bow and then placed a hand on her hip before turning her about. “It’s a tragedy that you can’t seem to shoot under pressure. Here, let me show you.” He moved up behind her and though their bodies didn’t touch, Brinley felt his heat.
She pulled in a breath as his arms went around her and worked to position her hands. “I know how to shoot an arrow, Lore.”
“But not during moments of peril, my dear Artemis. Do you think the goddess of the hunt only shot when all was calm? No, no, no. You cannot claim to possess the skill if you cannot perform during critical situations.”
Brinley laughed. She couldn’t help it. Lore’s excuse had to be the silliest thing she’d ever heard.
“You wouldn’t think it silly if you were forced into a situation where you could only eat what you caught.”
“I would never be in that situation, Lore,” she told him.
“One never knows,” he said. “Say we marry and I lose all our money. Who will make sure that Little Homage has food on his plate?”
The Perfect Gentleman (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 11
