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

by Deborah Wilson

  Brinley began to titter so badly she became unable to hold her bow and arrow straight. “This is inconceivable! We’ll never marry, and I don’t need help with archery. I’ll be very glad to demonstrate my aim. On you!”

  “Ah, but Lady Brinley,” he whispered in her ear. “Like Cupid, you’ve already shot me square in the heart. Now, back to your lessons.”

  She lifted her arms, hating that she was enjoying herself so much. Hating that she’d liked the fact that he’d found a way to be near her. She was being a fool. “This isn’t about me. You’ll do anything to get your way, won’t you? You’ll still be in trouble if you do anything untoward.”

  “Will I?” His warm breath brushed her neck. “Here I stand simply being a gentleman. But go ahead and press yourself into me now. No one would mind too greatly and certainly not me.”

  Brinley gasped and released her arrow by accident. It hit the grass far from her target.

  He tsked. “I see you have much to learn and just imagine all the many things that I can teach you, Brinley. Badminton. Shuttlecock…”

  Her mind went beyond outdoor games and conjured images of what Lore could teach her behind closed doors.

  “But this is not a dire situation,” she said once she was able to speak. “If I am to learn to shoot in times of great trouble then where is it?”

  When Lore didn’t answer, she turned to him and found him to be staring at her.

  And when his eyes dipped to her lips, she knew what great trouble had presented itself.

  Him.

  Lore was trouble and not only to her body, but her mind and heart.

  Brinley had no choices left. She had to escape.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 3

  “What do you mean I can’t have another horse?” Brinley asked early the next morning. “Your stables are full and surely Lord Ayers would allow one of his guests the use of a horse.”

  The sheepish stable boy could barely meet her eyes as he spoke. He held Jupiter’s reins. “Forgive me, my lady, but these orders did not come from the duke but from your father.”

  Her anger spiked at the confession, but she calmed herself so as not to take it out on the servant who’d had nothing to do with provoking her. “Of course, my father would say as much.”

  “I can have this one readied for you,” the young man said again.

  Lord Tellock had clearly made sure that if Brinley wished to ride, she would ride no other horse but Jupiter.

  That would not do. Jupiter would only have Lore trailing her once more, and she could not have that. Her plan was to make him go away, not bring him closer.

  Through the night, she’d tried to come up with a solution to their problem. She’d thought about revealing her knowledge of the truth of their bargain to her father but then decided against it. If her father was willing to sell her for a horse, she didn’t wish to know what else he was capable of if he tried to change tactics.

  Lore, Brinley decided, was something she could handle.

  He couldn’t cling to her side—touch her, whisper in her ear, and make her insides feel warm—if she was nowhere about.

  It did bother her slightly that she was abandoning him, especially after agreeing to help him avoid Helen, but he’d been kissing her hand and distracting her with those pleading eyes that night in the garden. What else was she supposed to say?

  He was a grown man. Surely, he could easily avoid one slip of a woman. Brinley wasn’t even sure Helen was as bad as he made her out to be. After all, she’d said nothing about finding them in the office at the party.

  Brinley’s plan was to leave the castle for a few hours, or the entirety of the day, and return for dinner.

  “How far is Chesterhill Manor from here?” Brinley asked. “Can I walk there?”

  She’d been hesitant to tell anyone of her destination, knowing it was improper for a lady to visit a bachelor’s residence even if he wasn’t home, but Chesterhill Manor was known to hold a stable that housed some of the best horses in England. Many visited the stables, if avoiding the main house itself. No one would suspect her of any great wrongdoing, especially with Lore at the castle. She’d likely provoke her mother’s ire, but when had Brinley ever ceased from doing that?

  She’d walk if she must.

  The stable boy looked her over. “I would suggest you take a horse, my lady. It is far.”

  Heat filled her cheeks. She knew that look. “Have others walked to the manor?”

  He shuffled his feet and then swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Then I shall walk. If you would kindly point me in the right direction…” She lifted a brow and waited.

  “Please, my lady,” the stable boy said. “I could have this horse readied in no time at all.“

  “Go and get the head groomsman,” she finally said.

  The boy willingly ran off, leaving Jupiter behind.

  She looked around the stables and, as she suspected, with the chandeliers aglow, the room was indeed beautiful, awash in romantic orange. It was early enough to warrant the lights. The sun had yet to rise. Never before had she thought a horse’s home as grand.

  Brinley stroked the animals’ face from his poll down to his muzzle and under the chin. Jupiter blew his breath and moved closer and bumped his head against her cheek, a telling sign and he enjoyed her ministration. Jupiter was the most majestic animal she’d ever seen.

  While she was sure that some would think the Spanish Andalusian a simple gray and white, he was definitely silver in her eyes.

  The boy returned with the stable master, a tall thin man with a friendly disposition. “How may I be of service to you, my lady?”

  “I wish to walk to Chesterhill Manor. Could I please have directions?”

  “I will do you one better,” the servant said. “I will send a maid and footman with you who have taken that journey herself many times.”

  Brinley was no fool. While it was likely the footman had taken the journey, she suspected the maid was to keep her modesty. It suited her just fine.

  Everything was arranged in short order and the party set out expeditiously. Brinley hoped to reach Chesterhill and return before the activities of the day began. The plan for the afternoon was to visit the town and she was anxious to do so.

  The beginning of the journey was wonderful. The coolness of the early morning made it easy for Brinley to keep pace. She’d worn her comfortable walking boots and found no trouble following the path through the trees that the footman, Robert, directed them through.

  But she met some difficulty a time later when the earth began to slope up, seeming to do so for half an hour straight. She began to slow. Her breath came labored. She looked around to see how the maid and footman were handling themselves.

  Neither of them were out of breath.

  Sarah, the maid smiled at her with warm gray eyes. “Robert and I have done this walk before. We’re quite used to it by now. Anyone who's never walked it before would have difficulty. Anyone, I can assure you.”

  “Sarah,” Robert called.

  The girl wouldn’t stop. “I myself paused ten minutes before you my first go around. And Margaret couldn’t do this at all. She’s seventeen, and she turned back two hills ago. A group of us servants take this walk on our days off sometimes.”

  “Sarah,” Robert tried again.

  But Sarah would not be stopped. “We have friends at the other house.”

  Robert just shook his head.

  Brinley understood the girl was trying to make her feel better. It worked. She stopped for a moment. “How much farther?”

  Sarah and Robert shared a look.

  Robert then said. “We’ve quite a ways to go, my lady. We’re still on Lord Ayers’ land, as a fact. If you wish to turn around and get a horse—

  “No.” She refused to ride Jupiter and refused to look weak, even in the eyes of servants she’d likely never see again after this party. Finding her strength, she pushed herself up the hill and was glad to find that the ea
rth tilted down ahead.

  The sun was rising moments later, turning the verdant forest into an infinite array of colors. She concentrated her mind on its beauty as they began up yet another hill.

  She wasn’t sure how much time passed but once they were down the second hill, she asked, “How much farther?” Her legs were trembling, and her arms itched. She’d began sweating, but the coolness of the trees dried it before the need to wipe it away presented itself.

  She’d also removed her cap. Great heat had begun to store itself there. Her head felt cool enough, but she was also beginning to grow dizzy.

  “Perhaps, we should rest for a bit,” Sarah said.

  Brinley had already been making her way to the ground. She could not go another step. “How much farther?”

  Robert’s dark eyes watched her closely. “We’re halfway.”

  Halfway! An hour had passed, which meant they’d gone at least two miles, if one considered the hills.

  She dearly regretted not taking Jupiter then. She didn’t believe she’d make it.

  Sarah offered her a canteen, and Brinley gladly took it.

  “You’re doing so well,” the maid said. She was smiling brightly. “Mrs. Brook would never have made it this far.”

  “Sarah,” Robert warned.

  “It’s true!” Sarah cried. “She has tried and failed. For all her talk—”

  “Sarah.” Robert gave her a look.

  Sarah covered her mouth, properly chastised.

  “Who is Mrs. Brook?” Brinley asked.

  “The housekeeper,” Sarah offered. She cast her eyes down. “Forgive me for comparing your ladyship to a servant.”

  At least it had been an upper-servant, Brinley thought.

  She thought of how pleased Sarah had sounded at Mrs. Brook’s lack of durability. She also realized then what Sarah had been about to say about the housekeeper.

  The servants obviously talked about Brinley. Mrs. Brook, whomever the woman was, had clearly said some unflattering things.

  Brinley stood. “Shall we go on?”

  Sarah looked ready to burst with glee. Brinley immediately liked the girl.

  Robert looked weary. “Are you sure, my lady? We can always turn back.”

  They only stopped twice more before they reached Chesterhill. By then, the sun was burning brilliantly overhead. It had taken Brinley hours to get there, likely twice the time it would have taken Robert and Sarah if they’d walked on their own, but Brinley had made it.

  Robert and Sarah smiled at her. Sarah had looked ready to embrace Brinley but had restrained her from doing so. It warmed Brinley’s heart.

  The sight of Chesterhill nearly made Brinley weep and not simply because the two-story manor was attractive. It was done with white stone with dark timber trimmings. The hall house had a matching coach house, stables, and smaller cottage to the side with a courtyard garden in the front. Beyond the house and past a half wall of pale stone, horses grazed in open fields. To its left, a river led deeper into the trees.

  It was stunning, but after four miles of walking—when she could barely remember the last time she’d walked just one—Brinley would be surprised if she made it inside the house.

  Her body was trembling. She didn’t wish to take another step.

  But she did.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 4

  Brinley walked on the grass by the stone-flagged path, finding it easier on her legs than walking on the path, and then into the house.

  She was greeted by a housekeeper and immediately shown to the downstairs receiving room. Instant relief set in after she sat. She wanted a bath. Brinley bathed daily, which she knew to be much more than other people. But she never felt right without scrubbing her body either before bed or early in the morning. She even did so in the afternoon. Her skin had started becoming so dry she’d had body creams made for her, slightly scented with honey and apple.

  Yet without another set of clothes, she could not bathe here, so she settled into the couch and decided to close her eyes for a moment or two. In fact, she didn’t know how long she’d slept, but when she awoke, it was to find Lore sitting next to her.

  He was the very picture of perfection in gray trousers and a white shirt. He wore no coat and looked as though he’d been busy at work. His golden hair was slightly tousled. He was smiling at her.

  By the estimation of how much light was shining in the room, it was still early afternoon, so she’d not slept for long.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked in a low tone. “You should be famished. I would be. Sarah and Robert told me about your voyage across the countryside.” He narrowed his eyes and turned his body toward her. His arm rested over the back of the burgundy and gold couch. His bent knee lifted to rest on the cushion. “Did you truly walk from the castle all the way here?”

  He’d found her, was the first thing Brinley thought, but then she remembered where she was. Had he followed her here? She doubted it. No one but the stable master and a few servants knew where she’d gone.

  He should be with the party right now. Was it fate that kept throwing them together?

  She lifted her chin, though she’d taken neither her head nor her back from the couch. She was still tired. She could hardly lift her legs though was glad to notice her fingers were no longer swollen. Was it possible to feel tired and well rested at the same time? Her mind was awake, but her body was not.

  She was hungry, she noticed, but didn’t dare try to move. “Perhaps I’ll eat later.”

  “I didn’t see you at breakfast,” he said. “I rarely do. Do you take your meals in your room?”

  Her stomach fell. “No, I’m…”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.” He leaned closer.

  That, she couldn’t handle. “I’m not allowed to eat in my room.”

  He looked baffled. “Says who? The servants are there to see to your comfort. I’ll have a word with Ayers.”

  “No.” She wanted to reach out to him, but again her limbs failed her. “It isn’t necessary. The servants are not the reason…” She didn’t want to say what the reason was.

  “Your mother,” he readily guessed when a dark look. “Has she truly forbidden you from ordering food brought up to your room?”

  She looked away. She’d not been surprised at all to learn that the servants spoke about her. It was likely her mother who had made sure the housekeeper told everyone down to the scullery maids not to give Brinley anything more than tea when she rang.

  It was the same at home. Brinley had only made the mistake once at the castle, believing her mother would have forgotten to say anything to Ayers’ household.

  There was nothing more embarrassing than having a servant tell you no.

  If she wanted to eat, she was only allowed to do so in the company of others, which meant Brinley had only been eating dinner.

  “So, you don’t come to breakfast because I bother you,” Lore said.

  “No, it’s not you. Truly…” She sighed. “I don’t mind you at all when you behave.”

  He smiled genuinely, but the smile began to waver. “I’ve been wanting to have a word with your mother.”

  “Don’t.” Her heart jumped, moved by his words. No one had ever spoken up on her behalf. Not even her father. She was happy to know Lore wished to, but it would do neither of them any good. She didn’t need another reason to like him. “What are you doing here?” she asked, needing to change the subject.

  He stared at her, anger on her behalf still burning in his eyes. Then, she watched it bleed from his gaze. “I didn’t feel like joining today’s excursion, so I came here.”

  * * *

  Actually, Lore had been pressured to come to Chesterhill. When he didn’t see Brinley at breakfast—his need to bother her having nothing to do with his agreement with her father or avoiding Helen, he realized—he’d decided to sit with his family.

  That had been a mistake.

  His brot
her had once again reminded him of his duty. Lore had listened with a smile, but when the party had announced they were to visit town, Lore had announced his intentions of going to Chesterhill.

  Part of him wondered if that had been Asher’s plan all along, to get his brother away from Helen, but Lore was not yet ready to give his brother so much credit.

  Lore, when he’d not seen Brinley, had assumed her to be hiding in her rooms as she usually did during the days.

  He’d been more than pleased to find Brinley here and would have woken her had Sarah not advised against doing so. He’d found the servants in the kitchen feasting on bread, cheese, meat, and tea. They’d told him all about their adventure.

  When pressed for answers, Sarah had been more than willing to share Lady Brinley’s heroic journey across the hills that helped give the manor its name.

  He’d known Sarah before she’d begun working at the castle. She’d attended his church and when he’d left. she’d been quite upset. Seeing her in the kitchen reminded him that there had been people who’d thought highly of him even until the very end.

  Helen would also be joining the excursion to town and had found a way to reach him and ask for his escort. He’d been more than happy to inform her of his plans to visit his home, as good a reason as any to reject her.

  After listening to Sarah’s account of their day, Lore had left Brinley to doze and had found Mr. Ross, his steward, in his office in his private cottage. There Lore discovered that the manor did have a current problem and for the last hour he’d been laboring with the stable hands.

  “How long have you been here?” Brinley asked. Her voice was quiet, and he thought himself to be receiving a vision of what she looked like in the morning. Her hair was once again down, and she made no moves to correct it. It highlighted her high cheekbones and deep-set eyes.

  “An hour or so,” he said just as quietly. “Now, what are you doing here?”

  She held his eyes and said, “My plan was to find a reason to get you here, actually. I had hoped Chesterhill would have need of its owner and would have reported my findings to you.”