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

by Deborah Wilson

  “There’s more to it than that.”

  “Lore.” She was ready to shout at him but managed to rein herself in with a deep breath. “There is no need for this. There is no need for any of this. I shouldn’t be here. Now, you’ve made it clear that you no longer need to appease my father, I serve little purpose in your life. I am leaving.”

  “We’re not done until you tell me what you wish to do with Sillian’s offer.”

  She started for the door. She’d never walked home, but she’d encountered many firsts these last few weeks. This would simply be yet another.

  He placed a hand on her arm and turned her around. “What is your answer? Say it. I must know.”

  “Why does it matter?” she asked, her voice rising. “You have your horse. You no longer need to pretend that you are my friend.”

  “I am your friend.” He frowned. “I care for you. Truly, I do.”

  She turned back to the door. “You proved it quite well when you began to avoid me.”

  He spun her around and wrapped his arms about her. The feel of his hard body against hers was shocking.

  She felt her front mold to his, and her hands came to rest on his hard shoulders. Her mind ceased to work.

  “Why do you think you are here?” he asked. “Because I need your help to extend my stables?”

  It took great effort to get her mind to work. “That is what you said.”

  “I miss you, Brinley.” He touched her cheek. “I miss the time we spent together. Don’t you?”

  She did. She closed her eyes.

  He placed his head against hers and spread his hands on her hips. “Stay. Help me extend the stables. We can forget the other matter for the moment.”

  “The party is nearly over,” she whispered.

  “Then help as much as you can.” He leaned away and didn’t speak again until she opened her eyes. “Will you help me?”

  She knew she would just as sure as she knew she’d say no to Sillian’s offer. Not because she hoped Lore would wed her. She knew now that he wouldn’t.

  But she could never marry one man when she loved another.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 7

  When Lore returned to the castle, he was surprised to find Brinley outside amongst a crowd.

  At the sight of him, she smiled and waved him over.

  The sun had returned to the sky today and brightened her features. He was very glad to be on good terms with her again.

  Brinley had come to Chesterhill for the last two days and met with the carpenters. Now, with everything in place for the extension to the stables, she’d returned from Chesterhill a few hours before him.

  He’d had letters to respond to, so he’d sent her on, but he’d found work unpleasurable without her about so he’d decided to return to the castle.

  He approached the group and noticed everyone to be admiring Lord Dalewell’s phaeton. It was beautiful. Black with gold lining and a gilded family crest on either door. The horses were equally styled with golden crown pieces attached to the reins. Even the wheels’ bolts were gilded.

  Dalewell was grinning wildly as everyone admired his conveyance.

  The phaeton was the sort of ride every young gentleman wished to have. Lore had been in possession of one for years, but even his was nothing compared to Dalewell’s.

  His wife sat beside him, holding his arm dutifully, basking in his happiness.

  “When did you get this?” one of the younger lords asked as he ran a hand over the outer lining.

  “Today,” Dalewell said proudly. “It was done to match a jacket my wife had made for me.” And indeed. the black jacket with its golden lining and gold buttons did make him and the phaeton all the more impressive.

  Lore gave Jupiter over to a stable hand and then went to stand by Brinley.

  “Isn’t it lovely?” Brinley asked him with a grin. “He’ll make quite the sight come next Season.”

  “Indeed.” Lore glanced past her to see Sillian watching them both. He stood by Denhollow.

  Lore felt pressed to ask, “Will you be joining the Season?”

  She shrugged, hardly seeming to pay attention to the question. “I don’t know. Most likely. My sister will want me there.”

  He lowered his voice. “And will you be there alone?”

  She turned to him then and frowned. Then she looked over at Sillian before she looked at him again, spun on her heels, and started toward the front door.

  Lore followed, though he stopped here and there to make it less obvious.

  He caught up with her in the hall upstairs. It just so happened that their families were sleeping on in the same wing. “Have you made your decision?”

  She looked at him. “I told him no.”

  Lore tensed. He was both happy and distraught. Did she turn down Sillian because she didn’t want him or because she didn’t wish to marry at all?

  He’d asked her days ago if time would have changed her mind.

  It hadn’t.

  There had been that same certainty as when he’d asked her long ago. She’d not accept him or any man it seemed.

  He admitted he’d purposefully not put much effort into getting her to accept Sillian. He wanted her for himself but feared her answer as he’d never feared anything before.

  “You’ve already spoken to him?”

  “Yes. I’ve made my decision.”

  “About marriage or about him?’ he asked.

  “Both!” She glared. “So don’t bother trying to push anyone else my way.”

  “I won’t.” He took her hand and waited for his heart to settle before he spoke. “I hope this has not changed our arrangement. You’ll still come to Chesterhill, won’t you?”

  “Of course. I gave my word.”

  “Is your word the only reason you came?” he asked suddenly. He felt pathetic.

  She lifted a brow. “No, Lore, you know that isn’t the case. I come to see you.”

  That settled him.

  Perhaps, they would not be what he’d begun to hope they’d become, but they’d be neighbors and there would be opportunity for them to grow closer.

  He wanted to be as close to her as humanly possible, as close as a man could be with a woman. “I’m sorry I’ve upset you. Don’t return to your room just yet. I promise to not bring up marriage again.”

  She narrowed her eyes and then nodded slowly. “All right. What would you like to do?”

  * * *

  “You design gowns?” Lore asked once again, as though he needed further clarification.

  “Not just gowns,” Brinley said as she clenched the cards in her hands more firmly. “Day dresses, coats, night rails, shifts.” She’d finally told someone besides Everly just how she made her money. When he’d asked her moments ago, the words had simply fallen from her lips.

  It seemed she was no longer capable of keeping secrets from Lore.

  Except for her greatest secret yet. Her love for him.

  His brows rose and then he leaned forward and asked in a low voice, “Are you wearing one of your shifts right now?”

  She laughed and then glanced around the room. There had been others playing with him when the game had first started, yet somehow, they all eventually left until she and Lore were alone. It was perhaps because it was clear that neither wished to be bothered with anyone but each other.

  And it didn’t help that they seemed to have personal jokes between them.

  Robin Hood and King Richard.

  Jupiter.

  Mora wood.

  Just to name a few.

  She no longer took his flirting seriously even though she’d begun to notice he rarely did it with anyone else now. Lore had seemed to grow serious except where she was concerned. It made their relationship easy.

  It made her love him more.

  “Everly shouldn’t be the first to wear your designs,” he whispered. “You should.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned back to her cards. “You’re making me regret t
elling you.”

  “You’re beautiful, Brinley. You should show it more.” He sounded serious now. “As it stands, I’m the only one who ever sees the true you, when you’re not hiding behind that mob cap and unflattering clothes.”

  She lowered her cards. “I’ll have you know that I’m getting new clothes made. Some from my own book.”

  His blue eyes were intense. “Excellent. Now, what of the mob cap?”

  “You’ve seen my hair,” she whispered. “It never does as I wish it to.”

  “So, you mean it’s as stubborn as its owner?” He grinned.

  She grinned as well. “I would suppose so.”

  “I love your hair. You must know that by now.”

  She held his eyes and then lifted her cards again, effectively blocking her face. Her heart raced, and she struggled to breathe. “If I cut it, I’ll be sure to send you a lock.”

  “Do not tease. I’d gladly take it.”

  She didn’t bother to look at him again. Too afraid to find out he wasn’t teasing. A lock of a woman’s hair was a precious token to a gentleman. It was even common for a gentleman to sport a braided piece around their finger.

  “When will the dresses be finished?” he asked.

  “The first arrives tomorrow,” she said as she tossed out whatever card had been in her hand. Then she looked at him.

  He was still grinning. “Good. I wish to see you in it.”

  “Why are you flirting with me?” she asked. It no longer served any purpose that she was aware of.

  “Because I want to,” he said.

  “Stop it,” she demanded.

  “I don’t think I can.” Something in his eyes made her insides fitful, and not in an unpleasant way.

  “You’re being odd,” she told him.

  He leaned back and said, “No, I’m simply being myself.”

  Was he? He was clearly under no motivation from her father, which meant he had to be acting of his own volition.

  And Brinley didn’t know if she could handle that.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 8

  Two days later, Brinley’s mind hadn’t changed about Lore’s behavior.

  He was still acting odd.

  He was attentive both at the manor and the castle, and Brinley was struggling to make sense of it all.

  She struggled to understand what he wanted from her. He’d promised not to discuss marriage again and to Brinley’s annoyance, he’d kept his word.

  She hadn’t wanted the subject done away with. She simply hadn’t wanted him to speak of her wedded to someone else when it was him that she wanted.

  She watched him now, just as she’d done before there had been that lull in their friendship.

  He was hard at work, leaning over his desk, unaware that she was standing at the door.

  And Brinley thought she’d never seen a better view. No forest or terrain set off her heart as the sight of Lore did. She’d have been content to watch him this way for the remainder of her days.

  All he had to do was ask it of her.

  She’d tried forming words that would reveal this thought without giving away the secrets of her heart.

  She was far too afraid of receiving Lore’s rejection and losing his friendship. If this was to be their future, long talks and recurring smiles, then Brinley could find a way to be content.

  He suddenly took up and smiled. “Is it time to eat then?”

  The words sounded like something a husband would say to his wife. Yes, they’d grown far too close for comfort.

  “Yes,” Brinley said. “But I fear I cannot remain for lunch. I must get back to the castle. I promised to take tea with Arabella.” Her sister had been begging for a moment alone for weeks. If Brinley wasn’t with Lore or the other gentlemen, she was with Everly.

  “I must return to the castle.” she went on. “Could you have a carriage arranged for Sarah, Robert, and myself?”

  He walked over to her and didn’t stop until they were nearly touching.

  His position forced her to tilt her head back to keep his eyes.

  She was glad that she’d bathed. She’d begun packing a parcel of clothes, her soap, and creams when she made the journey to the castle over a month ago. Brinley could simply not stand being dirty.

  He pulled in a deep breath. Slowly, he lifted his hand and Brinley felt him slip the cap from her head. Her hair fell down her back and he lifted the strands and bought them forward, resting on her shoulder. “That’s better,” he said in a deep voice.

  She’d not forgotten again. She’d simply placed it on her head in preparation to leave.

  Yet she said none of this.

  Brinley had stopped breathing at his touch. Her heart had lodged in her throat.

  His hand drifted across her cheek again, stroking her boldly and intimately in a way he’d not done in the past. “Why do you wish to leave?”

  “My sister,” she whispered. “She… wants… there is tea… and me.” Her thoughts and mind didn’t seem to be able to coordinate.

  His eyes warmed. “You can join your sister after our meal.”

  She shook her head. “No. I can’t. I’m late. We must hurry.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” he said, cupping the back of her neck. “I plan to keep you here.”

  Brinley felt heat stir within her body. A pulling and tugging in the most forbidden of places. She didn’t stop what happened next.

  Lore’s hold on her tightened then his mouth took hers in the most erotic kiss she’d ever experienced. This was not the gentle kiss from the forest. It was sensual and unleashed a hunger within Brinley she hadn’t known existed.

  He slipped his hot tongue passed her lips, and Brinley devoured it, sucking him farther in.

  He groaned and then Brinley was startled when he set his hands on her bottom and her feet left the ground. It was frightening. She didn’t want to hurt him.

  She broke the kiss. “Lore!”

  He set her back against something cool and hard and took her mouth again before she could say more.

  She’d not missed the look in his eyes when the kiss had broken.

  Desire.

  He desired her.

  His hands moved to her outer thighs and somehow, they went around his waist.

  She was still off the ground. He was holding her, and more, didn’t seem to struggle in the least.

  She gave herself over to the kiss.

  He moved in closer to her. “Are you still determined to leave?”

  “No,” she groaned. Where would she go? She could hardly remember. She was determined to stay and feel this powerful man touch her.

  “You’re so soft,” he whispered against her mouth. “Soft and warm. Is that the case everywhere?”

  Brinley was about to burst into flames.

  He moved in closer until he used nothing but his body to hold her up. His hands were now free to roam and explore. He stroked and touched her exposed skin before his hands disappeared under her skirts.

  Something thumped her in the back and she realized she was pressed into the door.

  Lore must have closed it, because she didn’t remember closing it herself.

  “My lady?” Sarah called. “I told Mr. Ross your request and he has readied the carriage for you.”

  She and Lore were both breathing heavily.

  He tightened his hold on her for a moment but then slowly let her slide down his body. “She’ll be there in a moment.”

  There was a delay before Sarah said, “Yes, my lord.” Her footsteps were heard retreating down the hall.

  Did the girl know what they’d been doing? Brinley was nearly sure she’d been moaning. Loudly. She didn’t look forward to seeing the girl’s face reflect a knowing.

  But then who would truly believe it. Her and Lore? Kissing?

  And his hands. They’d been so close to...

  She looked up to meet his eyes.

  He’d remained close and she was astonished to not find embarrassment in h
is eyes. Instead, he was grinning.

  Her knees went weak.

  “I suppose Mr. Ross now thinks your authority to equal mine,” he drawled.

  She licked her lips. She didn’t know what to say. She liked Mr. Ross and now regretted suggesting he had been stealing from Lore’s coffers over a month ago.

  Lore wrapped his arm around her waist and moved her from the door before opening it. The extravagant touch had been unnecessary.

  She rushed from the room the moment she knew the opening to be wide enough and dashed for the carriage.

  What was happening? She didn’t know. She needed time to think. She’d nearly given herself to Lore in his office, of all places. She’d never acted so reckless in her days. Even now, her body throbbed furiously for him. She wanted to go back and finish what he’d begun but knew she wouldn’t.

  Sarah wore a small grin as she stared out the window.

  She knew.

  Robert, on the other hand, seemed none the wiser as he glanced out his own window.

  She was glad when the carriage finally arrived just outside of the castle.

  Inside the outer bailey, carriages were lined up.

  The three made the journey inside the keep and already Brinley could sense that something was amiss.

  There was movement. Servants were everywhere. Footmen were bringing down trunks, one right after the other.

  Brinley found some of the members of the party in the sitting room. They whispered in small groups as if not to disturb the household.

  She saw neither Hero, his wife Lady Beatrix, Valiant, nor Lord Ayers in the room.

  What was going on?

  Everly was there and rushed to Brinley’s side. “Lord Beaumont is dead.”

  Valiant’s husband had died? “How?” Brinley asked.

  “There was a fire in his home in London weeks ago,” Everly said with reddened eyes. “They said nothing since they did not know if he’d been home. They could not find his body. But… they have now.”

  Brinley covered her mouth and couldn’t imagine the great amount of pain Valiant was in.

  “The party is ending early,” Everly said. “The ball for three evenings from now has been canceled.”

  “Of course,” Brinley said. It was now a house of mourning.