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

by Deborah Wilson

  It would hurt, but she’d understand.

  Hero was his brother’s heir and that would make his children heirs to the dukedom until Redgrave married and bore his own heirs. It meant his choice of wife was very important, and Beatrix was still uncertain if she were the best person for the role of duchess.

  But there had been moments in the last few days when she’d almost broken under pressure and spoken of her engagement because many suspected her to be in love with Lore, since she still took her riding lessons with him and Valiant in the morning.

  She’d tried to quell the rumors, but the tongues of London would not be stopped. There were even mothers who thought her attached to Lord Redgrave himself. She’d feared what Redgrave would say if he heard such nonsense, but Valiant had told her the best response to it all was humor.

  ‘For nothing stirs on-dit better than fear and anger,” she said to Beatrix.

  Beatrix wanted to tell Valiant, but again thought Hero needed time.

  And more, she’d wanted to make sure Thump said nothing about her past. So far, he’d remained silent, and Hero had assured her it would remain that way.

  In seven days, all of London would know they were in love and getting married.

  She could wait seven days.

  Yet now there was a gentleman caller at her door.

  It was improper for her to have male visitors here. She always took her calls in the early afternoon at either Valiant or Lord Ayers’ home. Not even Hero had returned since the night of their last kiss and that had been three days ago.

  “A gentleman?” Beatrix asked.

  The footman nodded. “He’d not give his name. He fears you’ll turn him away, he said. It is not a man I’ve seen before, but he says he knows you very well. I could tell him to leave.”

  It would be the right thing to do, she supposed, but something about the situation made her want to meet him.

  “Send him up and, if you would, return with another footman… just in case.” Her pulse moved at a fast rhythm as she suspected she knew who the visitor was, but sensibly, she knew it best to use caution.

  The footman, understanding that she wished for his protection, bowed before leaving the room.

  He returned moments later. A man followed.

  Beatrix’s stomach dropped to her toes, and her mouth went dry as she stood.

  Her brother glided into the room with a swagger all his own. A grin split his face in two. His green eyes danced in the way she’d always known them to.

  He was across the room and had Beatrix in his arms in a heartbeat. Then she was off her feet and being swung around. “Trixie! Trixie! Trixie!”

  Beatrix clung to him and didn’t know what to say, much less how to react.

  But suddenly, she was weeping and the hands that clenched his broad shoulders were now doing so not in a way to keep herself upright, but because after all these years, she finally had her brother in her arms again.

  Her brother. Benedict Abernathy Gillingham. The Earl of Dalewell.

  She hugged him tightly, glad that he was happy to see her. The years had seemed so long without him.

  He set her down but didn’t let her go.

  Five years. He looked different. He’d matured into a man. His face, which had once had the gentleness of a cherub, was now shaped with hard lines that made him handsome.

  He was also dressed well in a dark green jacket and beige trousers. A brown waistcoat and gold buttons finished the look. “Trixie...” Only he’d ever called her that. When he pulled his arms away, she was awed to find a single red rose in his hand.

  She gasped and then laughed as she accepted the flower. “Dalewell, oh, thank you—”

  “Dalewell?” her brother asked with a lifted brow, humor still in his gaze. “When did you stop calling me Bennie?”

  She frowned. “When father died, and you became lord.” It had been right after their father’s death and by her brother’s request.

  He sobered visibly. “Oh, yes. That was when I was working very hard to prove myself to be an earl and hoping my title would make up for my lack of funds.”

  She looked her brother over again and wanted to ask how he’d found the means to buy his clothes. When last she’d seen him, they’d barely had any money to feed themselves.

  She suddenly realized just how very young they’d been when they’d fallen apart. They’d only been twenty. It seemed that whatever resentment her brother had felt for her in the past was long gone now and though she still struggled, time was making it easier for her to forgive herself as well.

  “It’s good to see you,” her brother said with soft tenderness. “You look just like Mama.”

  “Do I?” She touched her hair. “I do have her coloring.”

  He nodded. Benedict had inherited their father’s paler coloring, but brother and sister’s eyes were the same.

  They stared at one another silently. Beatrix wondered what he was thinking. Did he think of the night that everything had gone wrong between them?

  “Please sit,” Beatrix said. Then she looked over at the footmen and said, “You may leave. Please, have a maid bring a tray up.”

  The staff left and when Benedict held his hands out to her, she took them and settled down onto the couch with him.

  “You look well,” she couldn’t help but say. “Have your lands been doing better?”

  “Hardly.” Though the words had been said with light bitterness, his expression remained pleasant. He turned his body and propped one arm on the back of the couch. “You must be wondering how it is I am able to afford such lovely attire.”

  She was, but she wouldn’t ask. It wasn’t her place.

  “I married,” Benedict said.

  The words set her aback. “When?” How had she not known her own brother had wed?

  “Two years ago, to an heiress. Apparently, my title had drawn her in. She died giving birth to our son a year ago. Neither of them made it. I’ve been in mourning until recently. I’ve thought about you every day.”

  Beatrix’s heart constricted at the news. “Benedict, I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t imagine the devastation that had overtaken him at losing both his wife and child. Her brother seemed to have lived an entire lifetime without her.

  His expression was no longer light. “It was a horrible scene, Trixie. I’d rather not speak of it.”

  “Of course.” Though she wondered why he’d not told her about his marriage. Then again, he’d had no idea where she’d gone. She would have liked to meet Lady Dalewell though. That her brother had been living his life apart from her hurt, but then again, so had she.

  And would she have sent an invitation to Benedict for her own wedding? She didn’t know. It was unfair to judge him harshly.

  And now he was here. It felt as though her soul had been made whole. He was the boy she’d shared a womb with. She was glad that he’d found her.

  He smiled that slow grin that was always contagious. “You look quite fetching, sister. I hadn’t known Aunt Abigail favored you so. As I recall, she’d put great distance between us after our father fell into poverty. Is that where you went when you left me? To Wales?”

  Aunt Abigail was their father’s sister. They’d never gotten on well. Like Reddington, something had happened to cause them to fall apart. When she’d married late in life, she’d moved west and never spoken to them again. Beatrix had only known about her death because it had been printed in the papers. Her husband had been a knight who was surprisingly close to the king.

  She looked into her brother's eyes and wondered if she should trust him with the truth. She’d always trusted him with everything. Why not this?

  But how would he react once he learned what truly became of her after she left? She’d worked in Smithfield Market. She’d then worked at a tavern. It was not the life any gentleman would wish for his relative. It was best she did not burden him in such a way.

  “Yes. I went to Wales.”

  He looked troubled. “Did you tell Au
nt Abigail why you left Dalewell House?”

  “No. I would never have done that.” But she’d have kept the secret for her own sake and not her brother’s. She’d failed her family when she’d not accepted Anthony’s suit. Aunt Abigail had been a woman of strict discipline. That was one of the few things Beatrix recalled of her.

  He relaxed. “I’m glad she took you in, Trixie. You can’t imagine how I worried for you once you left.” He shook his head. “I should have found another way. I shouldn’t have tried to force you to marry when you were not ready.”

  Beatrix looked away. “It is in the past now.”

  He straightened and took her hand. “Yes, it is. And now you are to have your very own ball given by the Duke of Ayers.”

  “Yes, and you must come, of course!” Her brother must have read the papers. That was likely how he’d found her.

  “I would be honored,” he told her. “Now, I must hear about your time here in London. Tell me everything.”

  Tea came, and the siblings spoke for the next three hours, laughing at their shared past and mourning over time lost. She didn’t mention the tavern, though she did hint at her affection for Hero. Her brother made no comment except that he was anxious to meet Ayers and his family.

  For a while, Beatrix felt like her younger self, before the burdens of responsibility had torn them apart. Her brother had returned.

  Benedict looked at his pocket watch. “I must leave. I’ve much to do today.”

  “So soon?” She walked him to the door.

  He turned to her and took her hand again. “I’m off to meet with Aunt Abigail’s solicitor. Apparently, he lives in the city. Did you know it? Of course, you did. Anyway, I wish to see if our old aunt left anything for me.” He smiled again.

  Beatrix’s heart jumped in her mouth. She struggled to breathe or think. She could not allow her brother to meet with her aunt’s solicitor. It would reveal the truth or at least the lie of her wealth. “Oh, she didn’t. I’d have called for you had that been so.”

  Her brother shrugged. “It’s worth looking into, don’t you think?” He looked around the room and said, “This is a lovely place and in the heart of the ton. Aunt Abigail clearly favored you. Perhaps, because we are siblings, she might have left me something.”

  Her worry grew. “But she didn’t know you, not really.”

  He looked at her. “Then we shall find out if she died with a charitable heart.”

  She scoffed and laughed nervously. “But you are hardly in need of charity.”

  He touched her cheek. “Trixie. Don’t worry. I’ll not be too disappointed if it turns out she’s left me nothing. You’ve no need to fear I’ll feel rejected. After all, I’ve my very best friend again.” He kissed her cheek, which only made her feel worse.

  Then he touched her nose just as he’d done when they were younger. “I’ll see you later.”

  She bit her lip and followed him to the door, but there was nothing else for her to say to delay his departure. She could only hope the solicitor would not reveal anything about herself; like the fact that they’d never met.

  She saw her brother away and then quickly called for Joanna.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 6

  Hero sat in his father’s study. The Duke of Yates was present as were his brothers. The discussion was hardly anything Hero wished to participate in.

  “Chesterhill Manor or Lakewood House?” the duke asked Lore as he looked at the documents before him through his quizzing glass.

  Lore’s fingers bit into the arms of the wingback chair. His entire body seemed drawn tight. Never had Hero seen his jaunty sibling so out of sorts. He eventually spoke through clenched teeth. “Why can’t you do things like a normal lord? I don’t care what property you wish to leave me. Leave me nothing.” He stood. “I’ll not sit around while you act as though your death will mean nothing to us.”

  “Sit down,” the duke drawled without lifting either his voice or his gaze.

  Lore was breathing hard, but he obeyed their father readily.

  “I’m leaving you the horses,” the duke said. “I know you’ll want them.”

  Lore said nothing. He did love a good thoroughbred.

  “Father,” Asher called. “This is highly inappropriate. Had I known why you’d called this meeting…”

  “You’ve have come anyway.” Ayers looked directly at his eldest. “Would it please you if I said this was your mother’s wish? She wanted you all to be happy when we were gone.”

  “We’ll be happy with whatever you leave us,” Hero told him.

  “I’m simply making sure.” His father looked directly into his eyes. “How is Lady Gillingham, by the way?” A small smile touched his lips.

  His family was aware of his feelings for Beatrix even though he’d not declared it aloud. In the past few days, he’d been paying her quite a great amount of attention either here when she took other callers or when they danced at a ball.

  He was engaged and nearly itching with glee to tell his family, but he’d made a promise to Beatrix and would keep his word even though it pained him.

  He understood her reasons but was sure he’d not reached the depths of them. He hoped to have her complete trust by the time they wed.

  Hero leaned back in his chair and didn’t bother to avoid meeting the other watchful eyes in the room. “Last I saw of Beatrix, she was well. I would imagine that she is still well.”

  “Are you going to propose to her at the ball?” Lore asked.

  He’d already proposed but had decided to do something special for her at the ball. He had a gift prepared for her. “We shall have to wait and see.”

  “She does possess a certain charm, does she not?” Redgrave said to their father. “It’s clear you approve.” The compliment surprised Hero, but then again, he had a feeling that this conversation was only being pursued to avoid the other one.

  None of Ayers’ sons wished to speak of his death.

  “I do approve,” Ayers said. “Though I would like to meet her family. I think it odd her brother hasn’t accompanied her to London. Reddington agrees. It doesn’t speak well of him to allow her to come to London alone.”

  “She doesn’t speak about him to me or Valiant,” Lore said. He looked at Hero. “Perhaps, Hero knows the reason?”

  “If I do, I won’t be sharing it with you.” He was glad to know Beatrix had only brought himself into her confidence.

  “But be frank,” his father said. There was a seriousness in his eyes. “Does her brother have good reason for keeping his distance?”

  “No,” Hero said, sure even though Beatrix had barely told him anything about their argument.

  “Are you sure?” Redgrave asked, straightening. “I’d not given much thought on the woman’s lack of a protector. It is quite odd that her brother isn’t here and that Valiant can’t recall how she met Lady Gillingham but swears they are old friends.”

  “Have you looked into her?” the duke asked. “Asked after her to those who know her?”

  Lore came to her defense. “The girl made a child laugh when no one had been able to do so. She helped Hero find Hatcher when no one had asked for her assistance. So. you tell me, based on what we know of her, do you think it possible that she is the reason for whatever divide there is between her and her brother?” Lore had clearly become very close to Beatrix.

  Hero looked at his father.

  The duke smiled. “It was good to see Hatcher one last time.” Ayers had allowed Mr. Landseer’s son to keep the dog, since it had been clear that the boy was fond of him. “She is definitely full of surprises.”

  Before anyone could say more, there was a knock at the door. Ayers bid entrance and the butler arrived and spoke quickly. “Lady Gillingham is here. She would like to speak with the general.”

  Hero detected hesitation in the butler, but the man had been trained well enough not to show it. He stood at once.

  “Shall I come?” Lore asked. His hands rested on the ch
air ready to propel him to his feet.

  “No, I’ll speak with her alone.” Hero said.

  “Let me know if there is anything she needs of me,” Ayers said.

  Hero bowed and left the room. He followed the footman to the downstairs drawing room.

  Beatrix stood the moment he entered and though she was smiling, her eyes were haunted.

  “Thank you. You may go,” Hero said to the butler.

  The door closed behind the servant.

  Beatrix rushed to him and grabbed his arms. “Hero, my brother is here. He’s going to find out the truth.”

  He tried to comfort her by taking her arms and gently rubbing them. She was cold to the touch.

  This was the very last thing they needed, more issues. He was sure it would only feed into any doubts she had about them. “Beatrix, your brother has no way of finding out unless you tell him. Only you, me, and Valiant know the truth and you know neither Val nor I will say anything to him.”

  “But my aunt’s solicitor.” Her voice was strained. “Benedict plans to meet with the man today. He’s likely there now. He’ll find out that my aunt left me nothing.”

  Hero hadn’t thought of that possibility and now wanted to curse himself for not having the foresight.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked. “What will I say when he returns and finds out the money didn’t come from Aunt Abigail?”

  “We’ll think of something,” Hero said. “Besides, you hardly owe him an explanation. He abandoned you.”

  “We were young.” She shook his head. “He likely didn’t even think I would leave, but I did. He regrets it, Hero. He’s lost so much since then. A wife. His first son. He only found me because Lord Ayers is to hold a ball for me.”

  Hero fought to keep the scowl from his face. Beatrix was already under a great amount of stress. There was no need to feed her his suspicions and doubts. “Why is he meeting with the solicitor? Is he in need of money? Because he’ll not get it from you. The false will states the funds are for nothing but your Season and dowry.”