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

by Deborah Wilson

  Brinley turned away, and she readied herself to be stopped. With her every step, she listened for him to call for her, to demand she change her mind.

  But he didn’t and, as she climbed into her carriage, she knew it was all of the best.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  4 1

  Lore looked up when the office door opened.

  Asher stepped in but stopped upon seeing Lore. “Oh, I didn’t know anyone was up at this hour.”

  Lore looked back down at his ledger. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “I didn’t think you were still here.” His brother moved farther into the room. “I’d thought you’d returned to Chresterhill days ago. The party has been over for nearly a week.”

  “Is that what you want?” Lore leaned back in the chair. His brother’s chair, seeing that he was using his brother’s office. “Do you wish for me to leave?” If he did, it would not be for Chesterhill. In every room of his home, he was reminded of Brinley. She’d left her mark on his space and in his heart. He would not turn his back on his business, but he could conduct most of it while he was away.

  The castle was the closest place to stay. The weather was turning colder every day. Lore was avoiding it. He hadn’t even taken Jupiter out.

  Every day his longing for Brinley grew worse.

  He should have stopped her from leaving, he’d told himself a hundred times, but now she was gone.

  Asher sighed and moved to the wingback chair by the crackling fire. He leaned an elbow on the chair arm and rested his head in his hand. It was then that Lore noticed just how tired his brother appeared.

  “If I’d wanted you gone, I’d have told you so,” Asher said.

  “How is Valiant?” Lore asked.

  “I don’t know,” Asher said. “She won’t speak to anyone and I believe I know why.”

  “Why?” Lore asked.

  “Lady Yates died in the fire as well.”

  Lore frowned. Lady Yates had been one of Valiant’s dearest friends and Lord Yates one of Lord Beaumont’s. The four were often seen together, whenever Lord Beaumont was able to pull himself away from his business ventures.

  “That’s terrible news,” Lore said. “Did Lord Yates make it out all right?”

  Asher turned his head to look at Lore. “Lord Yates was not there.”

  Lore understood his brother’s meaning. Lady Yates had been there to meet with Lord Beaumont.

  Had they been having an affair? Lore didn’t want to believe it possible. Beaumont had seemed to be in love with Valiant.

  “You think us cursed?” Asher asked, now staring at the fire once more. “Harriett died three years ago and now Lord Beaumont.” Harriett had been Asher’s wife. She’d died of fever. Their marriage had not been a love match.

  And from what Lore could remember of Valiant and Lord Beaumont, their marriage had been arranged as well, though neither party had opposed it.

  Lore often forgot how much Asher had lost.

  .Starting with their brother.

  Only Asher had known their father’s first heir.

  Asher was thirty-seven, eight years older than Lore.

  His brother had known both their mother and father longer. Everyone around him had vanished.

  It allowed Lore to put aside any resentment he felt for the brother who was unable to say ‘I love you’ as he wondered at his words.

  Cursed.

  Lore surely felt that way. Brinley was gone. He couldn’t imagine a worse existence. He tried to brighten the moment by saying, “Hero and Beatrix were not an arranged marriage. They married for love. Perhaps, that is how we break the curse.”

  “By marrying for love?” Asher grunted.

  Lore likely would have done the same had he not thought himself about to follow in Hero’s footsteps just days ago.

  He’d been proposing to Brinley, but before he could get the words out that would ensure her hand, she’d rejected him.

  Now he was nothing more than her friend. That had to be the very worst thing a man could ever hear from a woman he desired.

  “I take it that it didn’t work out with Brinley,” Asher said.

  “No… It didn’t.” Lore didn’t usually share his personal feelings with his brother, but he was not feeling his usual self.

  Asher studied him. “I thought with all her many visits to Chesterhill, you’d have eventually done right by her.”

  Lore’s eyes widened. “You knew her destination?”

  His Grace lifted a haughty brow. “You think I’m unaware of where my servants go?”

  Lore believed it to be have been Robert who’d told him. Sarah had been much too gleeful about keeping their secret. “Nothing happened.”

  “Is that because the lady refused?” Asher asked.

  Lore couldn’t help his grin. “You know me so well, don’t you?”

  Asher turned his entire body to face him. “I know you’ve liked her more than any other woman I ever saw you with, including Mad Helen.”

  Lore laughed. “I more than liked her.” Brinley owned his every heartbeat.

  “Then why are you here?” Asher asked.

  “The lady refused,” Lore replied. “What do you expect me to do? Steal her?”

  “We’ve been known to having Viking blood.”

  Lore could not believe Asher was saying these words to him. “Who put you up to this?”

  “I can’t be speaking from my heart?” Asher asked.

  “You have a heart?” Lore replied before he could stop himself. “Sorry. That was unkind.”

  “Valiant, when she did speak to me, thought I should inquire,” Asher replied. “It was only luck that you were already in the castle. It saved me a cold trip to Chesterhill.”

  Lore looked outside the window and saw only darkness, but the sound of the wind whistling through the trees could be heard.

  “It’s amazing,” Lore began. “That Valiant has managed to pull herself out of her grief enough to see to my wellbeing.”

  “It is what this family does.”

  It was what a Curbain did.

  Asher turned back to the fire, and Lore thought the meeting over.

  Lore stood, and Asher spoke again. “Beatrix once told me that we’d not have our family motto without love.”

  Sit tibi bonum faustum tibi Opes honores. Let good be thee fortune and honor thee wealth.

  “Perhaps, she is right,” Asher said and then that was all.

  Lore closed his ledger and left the room.

  He was going to leave the castle as well and not return until he had Brinley at his side.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  4 2

  Brinley looked up at a knock on her door. Everly came in. She was dressed for bed and held a lantern in her hand.

  “Are you sure you’re not hungry?” Everly asked from the doorway. “You hardly ate a thing at dinner. I could have something brought up.”

  Brinley smiled. “If I were at my mother’s house, she’d have forbidden such a thing. Her reach would likely have extended itself to Arabella and Lord Dalewell’s residence as well.”

  “But this is not your mother’s home. This is my home and here we can do whatever we please.” Everly closed the door softly behind her and moved toward the bed. She placed the lantern on the nightstand and then got on the bed. She grinned, which made her golden eyes sparkle, and tilted her head. A lock of red hair grazed her cheek. “I’m so very glad you decided to come with me.”

  “I had nowhere else to go,” Brinley said. “I… refused to obey my mother’s order to return home and still I cannot bear the sight of Arabella. They didn’t want me to come here. My father will likely cut me of my pin money.”

  “You won’t need your pin money,” Everly said. “You can demand more money for your designs and you’ve been quite busy since you’ve been here.”

  Brinley had. If she wasn’t sleeping, she was working, tirelessly cutting and snipping materials in order to come up with something truly spectacular.

 
; And she believed she’d done it.

  Brinley looked over at Everly and couldn’t help but to notice how lovely her friend was. “Why won’t you marry, Everly? Truly? It must be more than just a fear of losing your power. Don’t you want love?”

  “No,” Everly decidedly said. “Love would be the very worst thing that could happen to me. Love has a way of controlling one’s mind and heart.”

  “But with the right person, it could all be worth it,” Brinley said.

  “Perhaps for you.” Everly smiled. “But I am quite content with my life as it is.” Everly didn’t speak of her past often, but from what Brinley knew, her father, Lord Ellervear, had not been a kind man. She’d grown up hosting her father’s political events. Her looks, charm, and political ties made her one of the most powerful women in England, which had granted her a position as a patroness at Almack’s at the young age of twenty and four.

  She was thirty now. A spinster. Yet well-loved and clearly content.

  Brinley looked down at her sketchbook.

  She was far from content and now, as she sat in Everly’s house, she couldn’t quite say that being alone in the cottage would have been satisfactory either.

  What had truly made the cottage wonderful was its proximity to Chesterhill.

  No, actually, it was its proximity to Lore.

  She couldn’t help but think of his parting words. They were the sweetest words she’d ever heard and the sweetest kiss yet.

  She loved him, but did she love him enough to accept his proposition?

  Her mother hated her. She had nothing to fear on her account. Her father… Brinley thought that in his own way, Lord Tellock respected her as much as any father could his daughter, but he’d not respect her if she decided to become Lore’s mistress.

  Brinley wasn’t sure what she wanted out of life anymore. She liked a few of her choices but loved none of them.

  “There are a few guests from the party in town,” Everly said. “I’ve thought to host them a few nights. Would you mind if I did?” They were in London. Everly owned a country residence but preferred the city.

  “I wouldn’t mind at all.” Brinley smiled. “Conversation would be a good distraction. Perhaps, I should go to Italy or Egypt,” she said, changing the subject suddenly. “France is far too dangerous at the moment, but I’ve enough money to travel for a while.” Her sister, as it turned out, hadn’t spent all her money, but she’d taken a great sum of it.

  “You wish to travel alone?” Everly asked. “I could go with you.”

  “Would you?” Brinley brightened. It was the first idea she’d come up with that she liked above all else. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  “I never do anything I don’t want to do,” Everly said. “Let’s go see the world. You and me. Who knows? Perhaps, we’ll meet and marry Spanish dukes.”

  Brinley laughed and for the first time since she left Ayers Castle felt excitement fill her blood. Perhaps, her future would not be so tragic after all.

  * * *

  Lore had looked everywhere but couldn’t find Brinley. He’d gone to her father’s house first and had been received by Lady Tellock, who’d informed him that Brinley was no longer a part of their family. She’d been disowned and was free to do as she pleased for all her mother cared.

  Lore didn’t bother trying to change the woman’s heart. She clearly had none.

  He’d gone to Arabella’s second, sure that Brinley’s sister would not turn her away. From what Lore had witnessed, the two were close if not vastly different from one another. The journey between Lord Tellock’s residence and Lord Dalewell’s had taken three days.

  Upon his arrival, he was greeted warmly but when he’d begun to inquire about Brinley, Lady Dalewell had burst into tears and became inconsolable for the remainder of the day.

  It wasn’t until the next morning that Arabella confessed that Brinley had gone to Everly’s home.

  Everly’s country residence was another two-day journey, which turned up futile.

  Neither lady had been home, but upon giving his name, the butler saw that Lore was given a room to rest for the night and a meal before he set out the next morning.

  But he’d had no true destination in mind. He’d told himself he’d not return home until he had Brinley.

  He’d envisioned tossing her kicking and screaming over his shoulder and throwing her into a carriage.

  The thought made him smile, so he decided he’d keep his pledge and not return to either the castle or Chesterhill without her.

  With nowhere else to go, he went to London. There was a gentleman there with an English thoroughbred for sale that Lore had seen in action once.

  He was staying with Denhollow, who rented his house in Mayfair during the entire year. Upon entering the home, he was shown to the study.

  Denhollow was reading but placed the book down and grinned when Lore entered. “Where have you been?”

  “Where have I not been?” Lore asked as he walked to the window. He’d been caged in a carriage for too long. He needed to stretch his legs. “Liverpool, Nottingham…” London usually lost half its residents come the end of the Season, but the city never did rest completely. Staring out, Lore saw the noonday road to be busy. Some of the more fashionable residents were still around.

  “Why have you been traveling so much?” Denhollow asked.

  “I’ve been looking for Brinley. I can’t seem to find her, but I will. I plan to set out in a few days. I hear she has a grandmother in Plymouth.”

  Denhollow chuckled. “She’s not at her grandmother’s house.”

  Lore looked over at him. “How do you know?”

  Denhollow’s dark eyes danced with mischief. “She’s here. In the city. She’s been living with Lady Wycliff. I was given an invitation to a dinner last week. Your friend Lady Brinley was looking quite fetching in her new gown. Naturally, I tried to charm her, but she was not receptive.”

  “She’s in the city?” Lore started for the door.

  “For now.”

  Lore stopped and turned to him. “What do you mean? Where are they going? Back to the country?”

  “The Continent.” Denhollow leaned back in his chair. “They’ve made arrangements to leave in two days.”

  Lore’s heart tripped over itself as his feet rushed through the door and back out into the chilly late October weather.

  Brinley would leave England over his dead body.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  4 3

  “You’ve a visitor, my lady,” the footman said as he presented Brinley with a silver tray with a card.

  The name boldly scrolled across the card made her pulse jump.

  Everly was gone to Madam Mead’s in order to strike another agreement for Brinley’s designs. Brinley was alone, and a lady alone was not to receive gentlemen visitors.

  But then again, Brinley was all but on her own. Cut off from her family.

  She could do as she pleased.

  “Show him in, thank you.”

  The servant left and returned with Lore.

  Brinley stood and realized her mistake immediately.

  She’d forgotten just how beautiful Lore was. Tall and toned with muscles visible through the tailored suit that had been crafted just for his masculine form, his eyes held her captive and the intensity in his blue gaze made her tremble.

  Lore crossed to her and caught her chin just before he slanted his mouth over hers. Heat broke over her as he engulfed her using tongue and teeth. She was overwhelmed by his blatant hunger for her and by her own need.

  She burned everywhere he touched her. His hands stroked down her face, arms. He picked her up and this time Brinley knew what to do.

  Her legs went about him, and she felt her body lowered into something soft right before his very hard one covered hers.

  “This is madness,” she finally whispered when his mouth began to descend.

  “Yes.” His tongue stroked her throat, his voice hard against her skin. �
��I’m mad for you.”

  She heard the distinct sound of ribbons coming undone.

  And then the clearing of a throat from somewhere.

  “Brinley!”

  Brinley gasped at the sound of Everly’s voice ringing through the drawing room.

  She struggled to close her bodice, but Lore was still resting on her.

  He’d lifted his head, but he’d yet to move. His eyes were once again on her.

  This close, she could almost forget that someone stood by the door. All she could see was him. His eyes. His nose. His lips.

  He smiled and stroked her hair back from her brow, taking her cap with him. “That’s better,” he whispered.

  She smiled and thought everything to truly be better. She stroked his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair. “Laurel,” she whispered.

  He tilted his head and closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.

  “Lord Laurel, rise this instant,” Everly called. “It is very rude to accost a lady while in the presence of another.”

  Lore opened his eyes and smiled at Brinley. “Perhaps, if we stay this way, she’ll go away.”

  Brinley laughed. Their situation was outrageous. She’d never have done something so scandalous as lay with a man in a drawing room, but then again, this was not any man. It was the one she loved. “I don’t believe she will.”

  “I can hear you both,” Everly said. “Get up. Up. Up. Up.”

  Lore rolled his eyes and stood, taking Brinley with him, keeping her from Everly’s sight. Then he tightened the ribbons at her bodice while sporting a very devious grin.

  Brinley bit her lip.

  He’d come for her. She’d never expected this. She was not the sort of woman men chased after, yet here Lore was. He was one of the most beautiful men in England and he’d come for her.

  Her heart raced as he stepped aside and turned to Everly.

  “My lady.” He bowed.

  Brinley giggled. He’d greeted her quite differently.

  Everly had her hands on her hips as she looked from one to the other. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Look at you both, acting half your age.”