Everly pulled Brinley into a corner in the room and pushed a purse into her hands. “It’s the rest of your money. It arrived with the news of Lord Beaumont.” Her friend smiled. “I cannot wait to return and see your cottage.”
Brinley smiled softly. “Thank you, Everly.”
“I’m leaving in a few hours,” Everly said. “Would you like to come?”
“No, I shall stay here.” Lore didn’t know what had happened yet. She wanted to be here for him if she could. She decided she’d not bring up the purchase of land today. Once Lore heard of his sister’s grief, he would give his attention to Valiant, and Brinley thought it fair.
She left the drawing room to go in search of her family but met Lore in the foyer.
He grinned when he saw her, but at her expression, he sobered and crossed to her. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s your sister.”
He grabbed her arms, and his eyes widened. “What do you mean? What has happened to her?”
Brinley shook her head. “Nothing. I mean, Lord Beaumont is dead.”
Lore’s hands fell away as he began to search the room that was full of activity. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” Brinley said. “With your family somewhere.”
“I must go find her.” He set out without another word. She understood that his mind was elsewhere.
∫ ∫ ∫
3 9
“Brinley,” her father called when she reached their wing. “Come.” He stood inside the rooms he’d shared with her mother.
She walked inside their personal drawing room and closed the door.
Her mother looked her over and narrowed her eyes. “Where have you been?”
“Walking,” Brinley said. She struggled to not touch her lips. Was it obvious that she’d been kissing Lore a short time ago?
Arabella was there, sitting on the couch with their mother, grinning merrily.
“We’re leaving.” Lord Tellock stood by the window. “You have the option to return home with us or go with your sister. Either way, we need an answer now.”
“Oh, say you’ll come with us, Brin,” Arabella said.
Brinley looked at her sister and her parents and felt her stomach fall. She was nervous but straightened her shoulders. “Actually, I would like leave to purchase my own home.”
Her mother frowned. “What? Where?”
“Not far from here,” Brinley said. “There is a cottage for purchase, and I’ve my own means of getting it.”
“How so?” her father asked. “Surely, I’ve not given you enough pin money to purchase anything in this region.”
“You haven’t.” Brinley sighed. “I’ve… earned the means.”
“You’ve been earning money?” Her mother leaned back in the couch and pressed a hand to her chest. “Doing what?” She looked Brinley over.
“Designing clothes,” Brinley confessed, before her mother could accuse her of something vulgar. “I’m Madam Mead’s designer.”
Arabella was now looking at her lap.
Lady Tellock laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” Brinley said with a bit of anger. “I have an entire book of designs in my room. I sell them to Madam Mead and she passes them off as her own. We formed this agreement years ago.” Brinley lifted the coins in the hand. “This was just delivered for the fashion of next Season. I’ve more in my rooms, enough to purchase the land I want.”
Lady Tellock had ceased laughing and was now glaring at Brinley. “This isn’t possible.”
“Why not?” Brinley asked. “Because I’m not as thin or pretty as Arabella? Am I too ugly to create something beautiful?” She was trembling now. Tears were building in her eyes.
Her mother gasped. “I didn’t say that.”
“Enough.” Her father cut in. “Brinley, is this what you want? Is it the reason you didn’t marry Lord Sillian?”
Arabella’s head came up and she gasped.
“Lord Sillian proposed?” Lady Tellock shouted as she stood. “And you turned him down? You’ve clearly lost your mind. Tellock, tell her she is neither going with Arabella nor getting her lands. She is coming with us.” Then she addressed Brinley. “Next Season, you will beg Sillian for forgiveness and make it clear that you will do whatever is needed to gain his admiration again.”
“Oh, no, Mama,” Arabella said as she gained her feet. “Brinley must come with me and Benedict.”
“No, she must focus on gaining Sillian’s attention once more,” her mother decided. “She’ll never get another proposal again. Never! Not from another lord. Surely, it is not Lord Laurel she pines for? Everyone knows what sort of man he is. He’ll never come up to scratch, my dear. Mark my words.”
That struck Brinley, but she remained standing and didn’t show her grief.
Arabella turned to Brinley. “You’ll be much happier with us than in your own home. Truly.”
“No, Arabella, I won’t.” Brinley closed her eyes and sighed. “I no longer wish to be a burden to anyone, and I do not wish to marry. I’ve found a way to make a living without bringing embarrassment to the family. All I ask is my freedom to be as I am.”
“Is that what you want?” Lord Tellock asked. “Is this what would make you happy?”
Brinley met her father’s eyes as tears ran down her own. “Yes.”
Her father placed his hands behind his back and straightened. “Then show me the funds and you may have your wish. I’ll make sure you were given a fair deal for the land and make sure you are well situated before we depart.”
Brinley was surprised.
As was the rest of her family.
“Tellock!” her mother cried. “You can’t mean this. Brinley can’t go off on her own. She’ll never marry if she does.”
“That is Brinley’s choice,” her father replied.
Arabella looked nervous, but Brinley hardly noticed.
She was too happy at having her father’s blessing. He was allowing her to make her own choice.
Brinley went to Lord Tellock and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you.”
He returned her embarrassed hug. “Hurry. We must finalize everything before we depart.”
Brinley rushed from the room and went to her own. Her vision was blurred by tears of joy, but she managed to find her trunk and dug around for her purse.
It wasn’t there.
Setting the one Everly had given her off to the side, she searched her trunks again.
Worry began to build within her. She emptied the trunk and found no purse.
“No, it has to be here,” she whispered. She never placed it anywhere else. She was very cautious about her savings. It had been everything to her, the key that would unlock her ultimate happiness.
She searched through the dumped items yet found nothing.
It had been stolen!
Brinley picked up the purse Everly had given her and returned to her father’s room. “Someone has stolen my money. We must stop the party from leaving. We must search the house and every trunk.”
“This is ridiculous,” her mother said. “We are in a house of mourning. We’ll not upset Lord Ayers over a missing purse.”
“But I had a great sum in there.” Brinley told them the figure.
Both her parents were surprised.
“If that amount has been stolen, Lord Ayers will want to know,” Lord Tellock said.
Her panic subsided some at knowing that her father was on her side. She’d never loved him more than she did right then and there.
“It shouldn’t be hard to find,” Brinley said. “It’s bright blue with my initials etched into the velvet.”
“I’ll call a footman,” her father said. He crossed the room and grabbed the rope, ready to ring.
“Wait!” Arabella cried. She was shaking in the corner of the couch. Her hands covered her face. Then she lowered them and looked at Brinley. “Your money wasn’t stolen. I… took it.”
Brinley frowned. “Why?
”
Tears built in Arabella’s eyes. “Because I wanted to get Benedict a gift.”
Brinley’s heart began to race again. “I don’t understand. The jacket couldn’t have cost that much.”
Arabella looked down. “But the gilded phaeton and horses did.”
It was as though the floor underneath Brinley’s feet had vanished. She didn’t know how a chair had appeared underneath her, but suddenly it was there. She was seated and struggling to breathe.
“You didn’t need it,” Arabella said. “You still don’t. You were going to live with me and Benedict. That was what you said. You’d have been happy with us.”
Brinley burst into tears. “How could you! It wasn’t yours to take, Arabella! That was my money!”
“But I love Benedict,” Arabella shouted back. “All he ever wanted was that phaeton. Brinley, I’m sorry.”
Brinley shook her head. “We have to sell it back. The horses as well. I want my money returned to me.”
Arabella gasped. “No, we can’t. Benedict will get upset. He’ll hate me. You’ll ruin my marriage if you do this.”
“Your marriage?” Brinley asked. “That money was my entire life!”
“Arabella is right,” Lady Tellock said as she wrapped her arms around Arabella. “Benedict can never know about this. It would ruin everything. You cannot be this selfish, Brinley. You cannot.”
Arabella continued to weep.
Brinley stared at her mother.
She’d never hated her mother before, but at that moment, she did. With her all her being. Letting go of the frail hope she’d had of gaining her mother’s love was more painful than anything else. Never again would she try to win her mother’s heart.
She was done.
Finally, Brinley looked at her father.
Tellock glared at Arabella as he spoke to Brinley. “Though it pains me to know what your sister has done to you…”
“No,” Brinley whispered, knowing what he would say.
Her father looked at her. “You must not tell Lord Dalewell. He is far too pleased with your sister. If this got out, it could ruin our family.”
“No.” Brinley stood and went to him. “Please, Father. Don’t do this. What about my dowry?”
He grabbed her arms. “You’ve… no dowry, Brinley.”
Her eyes widened. “No dowry?”
“You had no need for it,” her mother shouted over Arabella’s tears. “When you didn’t marry by twenty and two, we lost all hope.” That truth crushed her further. No wonder her father had gone to great lengths to make her appear more attractive.
“I’m sorry, Brinley. I truly am.” And his pain seemed genuine.
Brinley wept, and she knew it was not pretty.
In less than a day, she’d experienced true happiness and great despair.
She felt the death of her dreams as though it were herself that were dying and a great loss of self.
What would she do?
She no longer looked toward the future with any sense of hope.
What she saw awaiting her was only years of unhappiness.
∫ ∫ ∫
4 0
Lore wasn’t sure how much time had passed between the moment he’d entered Valiant’s drawing room to find his family assembled to the moment she’d begged them all to leave her alone.
What he did know was that the sun had departed from the sky.
Asher had left earlier, having to bid those guests who’d departed that afternoon farewell. Many more would be leaving in the morning.
Lore was saddened by his sister’s grief. She and Lord Beaumont had been married for four years. They’d been happy, though the union had yet to produce heirs. His untimely death would mean the title being passed on to one of his cousins.
Lore was wandering the halls when he realized who he wanted to see.
His search of Brinley soon found him in the company of Sillian.
“She will be leaving shortly. Her family is all set to depart. They’re outside saying their final goodbyes.”
Lore frowned. “Where is she going?” Their arrangement had been for her to purchase the cottage. Had his kiss changed her mind?
“I don’t know.” Sillian watched him closely and asked, “Why did you let me pursue her if you were already in love with her?”
Lore decided he’d not lie to his friend. “She rejected me once. I did not wish to give her the means to do so again.” When he’d lost Helen, even while knowing she’d stabbed him in the back, his heart had felt pain. If he lost Brinley, Lore knew he’d never come back from it.
What he’d felt for Helen had been nothing compared to his feelings for Brinley. She made him better. She believed in him.
He wanted her with him at that moment. He needed her.
“Does this have anything to do with Helen?” Sillian asked. “She was clearly not who she appeared to be and then she vanished.”
He was glad Sillian was so perceptive. “I’m glad she’s gone.”
“Brinley would not have rejected you,” Sillian said. “I saw the way you were with one another. Indeed, I was jealous, which is nothing new.”
“What do you mean?” Lore asked.
Sillian stuck his hands into his pockets. “You’ve managed to capture the attention of every woman I’ve ever fancied and none of them would have rejected you either.”
“I hadn’t known,” Lore said. “Indeed, I was slightly jealous of you. You’re one of the smartest men I know.”
Sillian smiled. “You’re quite smart yourself when someone isn’t rubbing off on you.”
Lore had no clue who Sillian was speaking of until Denhollow stumbled upon them. He was three sheets to the wind and barely able to keep on his feet. He placed one arm around Lore and the other over Sillian.
“I’m in a state of great despondency. Valiant’s loss has reminded me of my own. Sweet Helen. She left without so much as a goodbye.”
Lore wrapped an arm around Denhollow. “Don’t worry. You were far too good for her.”
Denhollow grinned. “You’re right, I suppose. But perhaps I should go look for her.”
“No.”
“No.”
Lore and Sillian had spoken their objection in unison.
Denhollow sighed again and then looked at Lore. “Have you proposed to Lady Brinley yet?” Even intoxicated, his friend was not completely senseless.
“I’ve not.”
“Then go.” Denhollow frowned. “Don’t miss your chance on love as I have.”
Lore rolled his eyes, but Sillian took their drunkard friend, and Lore started toward the bailey.
Brinley was not far. She stood in front of a carriage, speaking to Sarah and Robert.
Lore caught up with her. Sarah and Robert departed at his approach.
When he looked into her eyes, he could tell she’d been crying. She wore a brave face, but Lore saw through it.
“Are those tears for Valiant?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. You might think it selfish of me, but I seem unable to stop from worrying for myself.”
“What do you mean?” Lore asked. “Where are you going?”
“I’m no longer buying the land, Lore.” She turned her head slightly away, in the direction of Chesterhill. “I must go.” She turned to him again and smiled. “I hope I can always count on your friendship.”
He stared at her and then, without thinking, grabbed her hand and led her away from the train of carriages. He took her around the keep to the other side where they were out of sight. “Brinley, what is going on? Why are you leaving?”
* * *
Brinley wanted to tell Lore the truth. She wanted to tell him that her money was gone and where it had went but could not. As her father had said, it would do nothing but bring shame to her family.
Yet anger burned inside of her. She’d never wanted to run away and disappear so badly.
She couldn’t look at her sister and didn’t think she’d be a
ble to for some time to come and once again, she’d disappointed her mother.
Brinley should have known that nothing would make her mother see her for who she was and not what she wasn’t. She would always be found wanting in Lady Tellock’s cold gaze.
She’d never felt more like a mistake in her entire life.
It was only the sight of Lore rushing from the castle that brightened her for a moment.
Even his concern was a slight comfort in the midst of her despair.
“I can’t stay, Lore. Please, don’t inquire further. I can’t tell you why.”
“Is it your father?” Lore cupped her shoulders. “Have you told him your wishes?”
“I have.”
“And he would not let you go?” Lore asked.
She smiled sadly. “Actually, I think he finally understands, but it is no matter now. Everything has changed.”
“I have not.” He cupped her cheeks. “Brinley.” He seemed to struggle to find his words for a moment before he said, “Stay.”
“Stay?” she whispered, her heart racing.
“Stay... with me,” he said. His finger stroked her lower lip. “We’ve such a strong connection, you and me. And the way I feel… Brinley… I… I can’t bear to let you go.” He kissed her.
Brinley returned it in earnest, giving herself to it.
But only for a moment.
Then she pulled away.
She decided she was not offended that he’d asked her to be his mistress. It was only beautiful women who were ever asked to live in such a position. A hideous woman with a large dowry could become a duchess, but only attractive women were ever given the offer to become a kept woman.
And after a day of ugliness and tragedy, there was no anger in her reservoir to allocate to anyone else.
And she didn’t wish to be angry with Lore.
“You and I,” she whispered, “will always be friends, but I cannot be any more than that to you.”
She thought she saw heartbreak reflected in his eyes but told herself it was impossible. What woman had the ability to break the heart of an angel?
Lore was far too perfect for her. He always had been.
“Tell your sister, when she’s feeling better, how terribly sorry I feel for her.”
The Perfect Gentleman (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 20
