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

by Deborah Wilson

  Beatrix followed Valiant out of the palace, still awed by its endless glory. Outside, the day was bright without a dark cloud in the sky. It was the best day for such a royal occasion.

  She nearly choked when she noticed another person in the carriage. “Hero!” She said his name before she could remind herself not to address him that way.

  But she was so happy to see him.

  The general chuckled. He was in his uniform again. “I watched your presentation. You did very well.”

  She hadn’t even known he’d been at court. She hadn’t looked around the room. She’d been too afraid to look at anyone else.

  But how she’d missed him, she’d never know. With his tassels and gold, he was more dazzling than anyone else.

  Val got in and sat by her brother. “Did you get it?”

  “I got it,” he assured her as the carriage began to move.

  “Got what?” Beatrix asked.

  Hero reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “With the approval for the lady to waltz.”

  Beatrix took it and opened it.

  A membership to Almack’s. Her eyes widened. “I’m a member of Almack’s?” Only the very best that Society had to offer were allowed inside. Even some lords and ladies were denied entrance if they didn’t look and act the part.

  And even more, Hero had gained her the approval to join in the waltz. A lady never waltzed without the say-so of a patroness from Almack’s.

  She leaned back in her seat and though she truly didn’t wish to sound ungrateful, she asked, “Is it too late to run away?”

  Val laughed. “Far too late. You’re in. Also, we just received invitations to a party.”

  “But we were already invited to a dozen parties,” Beatrix said. “I don’t know how you’ll fit it into our schedule.”

  “We’ll attend them all,” Valiant said. “It is what one does when they are sought after and well favored.”

  Was Beatrix well favored? No, surely it was only her association with Valiant that got her any invitations at all.

  “Whose party are you attending?” Hero asked.

  “The Reddington Ball,” Valiant said with a blasé that didn’t fool Beatrix. She knew the Reddington family was one of the most important families in England. Beatrix had been to their country estate plenty of times as a child. The duke had been a friend to her father a long time ago. Before her life had changed.

  It would be Beatrix’s first ball, and she was nervous for many reasons. Worried the ton would not accept her and worried that Reddington would have something to say about Valiant bringing her along.

  “And now we’ve been invited to Lady Pellton’s party,” Valiant went on. “That is a circle that not even I’ve been invited into. It was Bee who got us the invite.” She’d started calling her ‘Bee’ last week. “She knew them as a girl. Hero, you must come. See if Asher and Lore will join us.”

  “Pellton?” Hero asked. “Whigs, are they not?”

  Beatrix knew of the political parties in Parliament. What she hadn’t known was that such things mattered at parties. The Curbain family were clearly Tories.

  “Do we go?” Beatrix asked.

  “Of course,” Valiant said with a smile. “Who knows? You may very well meet the man of your dreams there.”

  Beatrix looked down at her Almack’s certificate. She hadn’t wanted to see if Hero would agree with his sister and prayed he’d not make comment.

  She’d already met his family this week. Valiant had invited her to dinner.

  The Duke of Ayers had been kind. He was also very handsome. He didn’t have the family nose, which led Beatrix to believe that his children had inherited it from their mother.

  Val’s brothers had been polite, Lord Laurel much more than Lord Redgrave. Even Lord Beaumont had attended, and he was always kind. Hero had been there and, as was necessary, he acted as though they’d only met that once in Val’s breakfast room.

  It had hurt, but she understood that he was trying to save her reputation. She’d need it if she hoped to wed well and soon.

  They went to the residence Beatrix was living in.

  “Bee, we’ll get you changed and then head out again,” Valiant said once they made it inside. “There are a few ladies whose mothers will expect me to pay a call. Let me go find Joanna so we can remove that headdress as gently as possible.”

  Val always had calls to make or had a meeting with one charity or another. As a wealthy countess, most of the ton vied for her attention. Beatrix was glad to have her as a friend.

  “I’ll be on my way,” Hero said.

  She turned to him. “Where are you going?” Then she closed her eyes and shook her head. “Forgive me. You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” She had to learn to be less impulsive around him.

  When she opened her eyes, she found him closer.

  His hands moved through his hair. His expression was humorous. “I’ve already told you that if you have need of me, you may call on me. That would likely be very hard if you didn’t know where I was.”

  She smiled. “I’ll likely be fine while calling at the homes of young ladies. I can’t imagine anything unfortunate taking place there.”

  “One never knows.” He straightened. “I’m off to the docks.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m looking for... someone,” he told her. “That is why I was there the night we met.”

  “Who are you looking for?” she asked. “Perhaps, I could help. I lived there for a year and have met many people.”

  He smiled. “Hatcher. He has brown eyes, white hair, and walks with a limp.”

  She frowned. “Is he old?”

  “Quite.”

  She thought some more. “I don’t recall meeting a Hatcher, but I can send Joanna to inquire.”

  There was a teasing glint in his eyes. “There’s no need. I’ll find him. Lore is coming with me.”

  Her belly flipped. “Oh, please do be careful.”

  His eyes darkened, but he said nothing.

  And suddenly, Beatrix felt considerably warmer, as though she’d fallen into a deliciously hot bath and was drowning in it. It was hard to breathe.

  “Will you save me a dance at the ball?” Hero asked.

  “Yes,” she said, slightly breathless. She blinked and swallowed. “I mean, it would only be fair to do so. You have, after all, afforded me the opportunity to attend.”

  He nodded. “Good day, Beatrix.”

  She watched him leave from the window by the door and never mind what the servants thought.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 3

  “Here we go,” Lore said as he and Hero stepped out of his curricle. “We’re off to find Hatcher. We’ll search high and low, though I imagine more low than high since our furry friend will be close to the ground.” He grinned as he marched on.

  Hero kept pace, but his mind was elsewhere, back at Beatrix’s terrace.

  He’d come close to touching her… with his mouth. Hers had looked vastly tempting. He’d wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, pull her in, and smash his mouth against hers.

  The temptation to do so grew with their every meeting.

  He’d tried to stay away from her, but it was impossible given their situation. “We’ve been invited to Lord and Lady Pellton’s home this evening.”

  “Pellton,” Lore said with some over-exaggerated extravagance. “Well, well, how did this come about?”

  “Lady Gillingham. Apparently, she knows them.”

  “Excellent. Asher will be glad to attend. It’ll give him a chance to convince the old man to join the party.”

  Hero didn’t care about parties or anything else that divided England. He wanted to bring the country together so that it could protect itself from those who would bring them harm.

  He’d remember to never let Murray hear him say such a thing. Such thoughts would make him Foreign Secretary before he could blink.

  “She’s very beautiful,” Lore
said.

  “Who?” Though Hero already knew who he was speaking about.

  “Lady Bee,” he said with a grin. “And her dowry? That was a nice on-dit for the gentlemen. Everyone at White’s was speaking about it. Lady Yates was the source, I believe. She must have been very loved by that aunt of hers.”

  Hero hummed a neutral reply and said nothing. He hadn’t known their little story of her dowry would spread so quickly and thoroughly. He wondered how this would affect her chances at finding true happiness.

  Yet the story had been necessary. Hero had looked into her family over the last week and had learned her father had been deep in debt. The debt had carried over to the brother.

  Hero would have been more inclined to try and help Beatrix’s brother had he not abandoned her as he had.

  Smithfield Markets. He shuddered to know the working conditions she’d faced there. No lady—no, no woman—should ever have to work under such conditions.

  “Her age will not be a factor for many,” Lore went on. “I say, she’ll wed with just enough time for the banns to be read.”

  Hero look over at Lore. “Are you interested in her?”

  Lore gave in a look full of antipathy as he threw his hand over his heart.

  The look was enough, but Lore did speak eventually. “The thought never crossed my mind. I’ve no intentions of shackling myself to any woman, not with the family’s honor to uphold. No, I can’t imagine I’d remain faithful to any woman.” He shook his head. “No, brother, I imagine I’m set to remain happily unattached for the rest of my days.” Bliss made his lips curve as they strutted on.

  Hero had barely turned away before Lore said, “But I have encouraged Asher in that direction.”

  “What did Asher say?” Hero said.

  “Asher wondered how I had the effrontery to think about marriage when our father has one foot in the grave.”

  Hero could see Asher thinking such a thing. Hero himself was using every distraction he could to not think about his father. The Season, Beatrix, Hatcher, his future.

  He was not ready to deal with his father’s death and was glad he’d not be taking on the responsibilities of a dukedom afterward.

  “He must be under a great amount of pressure,” Hero said.

  “Oh, don’t I know,” Lore replied. “Glad it isn’t me.” Of the brothers, Lore was the one content to never work a day in his life. Their father had allowed their mother to leave him a nice plot of land in the country that made enough to keep Lore idle for the rest of his days.

  As a third son, Lore had been sent to work as a clergyman and to everyone’s great surprise, he’d been content with his life at the church where the family’s country seat rested. Asher, in one of the many letters the brothers had exchanged, told him that Lore enjoyed his flock and that the flock had enjoyed him as well.

  Lore had been a clergyman for three years, but a scandal with a patron’s daughter had brought him home. Lore didn’t speak about what had taken place to anyone. Not even their father knew, though the duke had demanded the truth from everyone.

  Since then, Lore had changed, becoming like any other young gentleman without responsibility, but Hero hoped, in time, his brother settled into something else.

  The brothers searched the docks for an hour and saw many dogs, but none as beautiful as Hatcher. Then they left and went to Berkeley Square.

  The square was crowded by the time Lore stopped his curricle. Other young men drove the same sort of vehicle, some with a lady at their side. They were mostly parked in front of Gunter’s and eating ices.

  It was the perfect treat for a day as warm as this.

  Hero watched staff from the confection shop rush out with their various orders and took in the cheery nature of the ton, remembering all the men who’d died so they could be as they were, without worry or care.

  “Chocolate?” Lore asked, remembering Hero’s favorite flavor. He’d already climbed out and gave a lad a coin to watch the carriage.

  Hero came down as well. “Yes, and I think I’ll walk a bit.”

  They parted ways and Hero kept to the walkway that circled the grass field. He stopped to speak with those he knew and hadn’t seen for quite some time. Many asked about his time in the military, but when pressed for details about various battles, he changed the subject before bidding them a good day and moving on.

  It was far too good a day to discuss the darkness that had taken so many men from every side of the war. He was glad for the peace being brokered at the Congress of Vienna and hoped it would be a success.

  “Hero?”

  He’d just decided to head back toward Lore when he heard his sister’s voice.

  He turned, found Valiant to be standing by a carriage, and realized quickly that she was not alone. Five other women stood at her side. He was acquainted with three of them. One was Lady Yates. The last was Beatrix.

  He thought her perfect. Beatrix had not changed since he’d seen her a few hours prior, but he couldn’t help but think how well she fit amongst the other women in the upper crust.

  One would never think he’d found her in a tavern only weeks ago or that she’d ever worked at Smithfield Market. She was a lady restored to where she belonged.

  Each of the women held a serving of sorbet from Gunter’s.

  Beatrix’s eyes were full of delight.

  That feeling of complete avidity consumed him once more, and he found himself walking in their direction before he realized it.

  Val smiled as he approached. “Bee told me she’d never been to Gunter’s before, so I had to bring her.”

  “You’ve never been to Gunter’s?” Lady Hose, one of the other women, asked Beatrix. “You poor dear. I don’t know what I’d do without it. I come here nearly every day.”

  The others laughed.

  “What do you think of Gunter’s, General?” Miss Pole, the daughter of a viscount, asked.

  Lore answered before Hero could respond. “He thinks it quite delicious.” There’d nearly been a dark growl in the words as he approached Miss Pole.

  There were shouts and giggles. Lore always made a stir with women, married or not.

  Miss Pole laughed and spun toward Lore. “Lord Curbain, I didn’t know you were here. And what flavor do you think best?”

  Lore held two cups in his hand. One clearly chocolate and the other clearly not.

  It only took Lore two seconds to make his decision. “Why, the one that matches your eyes, Miss Pole. Chocolate.” He handed Hero the other without even glancing at his brother.

  The woman laughed. Lore was a shameless flirt and all the world knew it.

  With great consternation, Hero took the serving offered him.

  “Let us stroll,” Lore said. “It is, after all, a glorious day for it.”

  Miss Pole released an outrageous giggle and took the arm that Lore offered. The other women followed and began to speak about the various parties they would attend for the Season, all hoping Lore would be there and dance with them.

  Val sighed heavily. “We’d best stay with Miss Pole and see that she is returned to her chaperone without scandal. Hero, do give Beatrix your arm, would you? At least then I’ll know where she is and will have no fear of losing her in the crowd.” She looked at him expectantly.

  Hero turned to Beatrix.

  She took his arm.

  Val rushed after their brother.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 4

  Beatrix was having one of the most delightful days of her life and while she could contribute a great portion of it to the rich treat in her hand, she knew that it had more to do with the man whose arm she held.

  Actually, it all had to do with Hero, for without him, none of this would have been possible.

  She’d be at the tavern right now, waiting hand and foot on Mr. Thump’s patrons, while never having a moment for herself.

  Yet instead, she was in the middle of one of London’s most fashionable places. She was looking quite up to snuff in
her handsome clothes and was making friends of the ton just as easily as any earl’s daughter should.

  “Hero,” she began. “I have to thank you—”

  “You are forbidden from thanking me again.” He looked down at her. There had been firmness in his tone, but his eyes showed gaiety. “I’d like your word as a lady that you will never thank me again.”

  “I can’t give you that,” Beatrix said. “I am far too grateful for all you’ve done, though I promise to limit myself to only once a day.”

  He chuckled. At their leisurely pace, they were falling behind the others, but at such a public place, it was acceptable for the two to be seen together this way. They were like many of the other men and women who walked the square. Some even sat together in open curricles along the road.

  She looked at Hero’s frozen treat and said, “You’ve not touched your ice. Do you not care for Gunter’s?”

  He let her go to touch his spoon. “I like ices, but I’m afraid that I have no clue what flavor this is.”

  “Why did your brother get it for you if it is not what you want?”

  He looked at her with those sky-blue eyes. “This was not what I asked for. Lore ran off with mine in an effort to make Miss Pole swoon.”

  Beatrix laughed. “Oh, you are a good brother for not calling him out on it.”

  Hero grunted. “That is debatable, my lady, I can assure you.”

  “Try it,” she said. “Perhaps, it will be to your liking.”

  Hero gathered a portion in his spoon and slipped it between his lips.

  He made a face and then stared down at the cup as though it were an abomination, which sent Beatrix into a gleeful fit. “Surely, it cannot be that bad.”

  “It’s not terrible. It’s simply not chocolate.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Lavender.”

  “I like lavender and here, I have chocolate, which happens to be my favorite as well. However, I am in such a delirious good mood that I will trade with you. It is the least I can do, though I believe I’ve eaten nearly half of it.”

  Hero took her cup, and she took his.