The Love of a Libertine

by Jess Michaels

  “What does it have to do with me?” Morgan asked, stifling a yawn in the hopes his disinterest would move this conversation along. He wanted to get out of here and find a bath and a bed.

  Robert held his gaze. “He’s in the market for a new man of affairs.”

  There was something in his brother’s tone that brought Morgan up short. “And?” Roseford didn’t answer, just kept staring, and Morgan jolted in understanding. “Wait, me? You can’t mean me.”

  But it was obvious that was exactly what Roseford meant. “It would settle you to have a vocation. Brighthollow intends to return to his country estate for a few weeks, so it would also take you away from London and its bad influences. You need that.”

  “What I need is a stiff drink and a fuck,” Morgan muttered, and then jerked his gaze to Katherine. “Apologies, Your Grace.”

  Katherine fought a smile. “I have heard the word before.”

  Selina winked at him. “Wait, do you have no apologies for me?”

  Morgan rolled his eyes. “You invented the word. And you can’t tell me you support this nonsense. Me, going to work for some toff?”

  Selina’s playful demeanor faded and she shot Robert and Katherine a quick glance. The couple seemed to understand it, for Robert sighed and escorted Katherine across the room to the window, where they stood together, heads close. Katherine was talking to him, low and gentle. Soothing him, it seemed.

  And Morgan was left with his sister. Selina slipped up to him and took his hand again. She smiled, but the expression didn’t quite meet her eyes. She had softened, which was a rare thing, indeed. Selina, like himself, was expert at keeping herself separate from difficult emotions and tenuous connections.

  Which meant she took this very seriously, indeed.

  “Morgan,” she said, her voice low. “Perhaps a few months ago, I would have stood here at your side and battled Roseford about this subject. I would have claimed everything was fine and the danger was manageable.”

  “You’re not going to do that now?” Morgan pressed.

  She shrugged. “A few months ago, Nicholas almost died. He’s still in grave danger.”

  Morgan shifted. Nicholas Gillingham was one of the legion of their bastard siblings. He was Morgan’s polar opposite: honorable, proud. He had served in the King’s Army and been badly injured in the Battle of Toulouse, nearly died.

  “How is he?” he whispered.

  Selina blinked, as if she were fighting uncharacteristic tears. “He’s…better. There’s still danger to his life, and pain. But every day his chance of survival increases.”

  Guilt ripped through Morgan. The last time he’d gone to see Nicholas was weeks ago. “W-Well,” he stammered, fighting to retain some distance from the painful subject. “What does Nicholas have to do with the subject of my punishment for crimes against propriety?”

  Selina hesitated and her voice trembled as she said, “I was at Donville Masquerade last night, Morgan. I saw you falling apart and it…it frightened me. I don’t have many people in my life. I nearly lost one brother, I won’t lose another.”

  Morgan swallowed. “Selina…”

  “It can’t hurt, can it? I mean, it isn’t in either of our natures to—to try. But there may be something to it.”

  Robert rejoined them from across the room. “What do you say, Morgan?”

  Morgan let out a sigh. In truth, his siblings weren’t far off the mark. He was tired of London. Tired of gaming and whoring. Tired of looking over his shoulder for whoever he’d lied to or schemed against. Now he’d have to add the watchful, judging eyes of Roseford if he said no to this offer.

  But if he said yes…well, then when he failed, at least he could say he tried, and perhaps that would appease Robert enough to keep Morgan’s settlement coming each year.

  “Fine,” he ground out. “If this Brighthollow toff wishes to speak to me about the matter, I won’t refuse.”

  To his surprise, Roseford’s eyes lit up. As if he really cared what Morgan did. He clasped Morgan’s arm and gave a gentle squeeze. “Very good. Now, Jenner should have your bath prepared. Why don’t you take that, and I’ll arrange for someone to go and fetch some clothing for you better suited for this sort of meeting. Then we’ll go talk to my friend.”

  Morgan’s eyes went wide. “Right now?”

  “I know you, Morgan,” Roseford said with a chuckle as he moved to call for his butler and get the ball rolling. “It’s always now or never when it comes to you.”

  Morgan wished to argue that point, but how could he? Much as he hated to admit it, his brother was right. So now he had to find out if this situation was going to be now…or never. And if it was never, what would that mean for his future?

  Chapter 2

  “But why must our plans change?” Lizzie gasped as she rushed across the parlor toward her brother, Hugh, and his wife, Amelia.

  They exchanged a worried glance, something they often did when they spoke with her. She loved them for it, but also struggled with it. She hated to cause trouble and sometimes it seemed that was all she did.

  Still, Hugh took Lizzie’s hands in his. “The plans aren’t changing, not in truth,” he said gently. “We are all still going to Brighthollow for the month. I will merely be delayed by a few days in joining you. Roseford has asked a favor of me, that is all. It will take a little time if it plays out as my friend hopes it will.”

  Lizzie worried her lip. She liked her brother’s club of close friends. They were all wonderful men with even more wonderful wives. But though the Duke of Roseford was no exception and was never anything but kind to Lizzie, he’d once had a certain kind of reputation. She shivered.

  “What kind of favor?” she asked softly, fearing the answer.

  “Oh, nothing of concern, I assure you,” Hugh said, waving his hand as if to dismiss the entire subject. “Trouble with his half-brother, Morgan Banfield. It seems the young man is a bit wild.”

  Amelia chuckled as she slipped an arm around Lizzie’s waist to comfort her. “Serves Robert right to have a wild sibling to manage after what he put all of you through all those years.”

  Hugh joined in her laughter, but Lizzie couldn’t. Wild. She didn’t like that word or all the ugly things that often came along with it.

  “Do you think you’ll hire Banfield, then?” Amelia asked, drawing Lizzie back to their conversation.

  Hugh shrugged. “I’ve looked into his background a bit since Robert first mentioned this weeks ago. He’s clever, that’s for certain, and I think he could do the job if he applied himself. I suppose I’ll decide once I get a feel for him when they arrive shortly. If I do take him on, he’ll come with me to Brighthollow to get his start, so perhaps you can have an arrangement ready for him there just in case.”

  “Or course,” Amelia said. “I’ll ask Masters to—”

  Lizzie shook her head at how casually they were discussing this. “What do you mean you’re considering hiring some…some rake to work for you in Brighthollow?” she asked, even though she knew she had no right to interfere in her brother’s hiring of any employee.

  Hugh’s brow wrinkled at the passion of her response, and Amelia’s arm tightened at her waist as if to hold her up. Lizzie almost felt as if she needed it.

  “You needn’t be so concerned,” Hugh soothed her as he leaned in to kiss her brow, just as he’d done all her life when he wished to comfort her. “Banfield will work for me and he’ll know his place. He won’t trouble you if he does come. You’ll be busy at any rate, won’t you? With the garden?”

  Lizzie tensed. The garden back in Brighthollow was the reason she’d given to Amelia and Hugh about why she wished to depart London in the middle of the Season and go to the countryside. Her late mother had designed but never finished it, and it was a project she did care deeply about.

  But it also served as an excuse she could offer so that no one would badger her about how much she despised London and the expectation that she would be wooed and wed. The Sea
son was only weeks old and she already wished to flee it.

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “I suppose all my time will be taken up with the garden.”

  Hugh nodded. “Now, the carriage is likely on the drive and loaded, so it is time for you and Amelia to depart.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek and she returned the same to him.

  “Be careful,” she said softly, meaning the road and his meeting with this stranger she already did not like.

  Hugh smiled with indulgence and motioned them to the door. Lizzie exited the parlor first, to give her brother and his wife a little more time for a private farewell. She adored them both, but sometimes seeing their close bond was…difficult. It was something Lizzie knew she would never have. Perhaps didn’t deserve thanks to the mistakes of her past.

  She smiled at her brother’s London butler as she passed him in the foyer. “Thank you for everything, Murphy.”

  “We hope to see you very soon, Lady Elizabeth,” Murphy said with a warm and genuine smile. “Safe travels.”

  Lizzie kept her own false smile on her face until she had been helped into her brother’s fine carriage for the long ride back to Brighthollow. Murphy’s words made her cringe even though they were meant kindly.

  See her again soon?

  She didn’t want to be in London. She didn’t want to return soon. She just wanted to stay in Brighthollow and play the pianoforte and take walks on the grounds she loved so much and read all the books from the library over and over again, even though she knew them all by heart.

  But she wasn’t old enough to declare herself a spinster and put her brother off on his attempts to bring her out of her shell. That meant she would have to endure and find these little pockets of respite where she could claim them.

  Amelia climbed into the rig, her cheeks bright and her lips red. From being kissed, no doubt. Hugh definitely loved to kiss her. And Amelia seemed to enjoy it, too. Lizzie shivered. Kissing was fine, she supposed, but it led to trouble.

  Hugh waved from the door as they rode off, and Amelia watched him intently from the window until they turned from the drive. Only then did she let out a shuddering breath before she smiled through tear-brightened eyes at Lizzie. “You needn’t worry, love,” she said as she dug for a handkerchief in her pelisse pocket.

  Lizzie nodded as she found her own and handed it over. She adored her sister-in-law with all her heart and didn’t want to worry her more than she knew she already did. Amelia was so kind. “I’m sure I don’t. Hugh knows how to handle himself.”

  “But you still have concerns about this man coming to Brighthollow and disturbing your peace,” Amelia said softly.

  Lizzie worried her lip. There it was, the exact feeling that burned inside of her. Yes, Hugh could handle himself. So could Amelia. So could everyone else in her small circle of acquaintances and friends, it seemed. She was the only one who struggled. Or at least it felt that way.

  “I suppose,” she said slowly. “In the end, what does it have to do with me? Nothing at all. If Hugh does judge this Morgan Banfield as worthy for the job of his man of affairs, then I’ll probably hardly see him, at any rate.”

  She would make sure of it, but that was hardly a necessary point to add.

  Amelia smiled. “Indeed, that is likely true. He’ll be very busy learning all the facets of his job that Hugh has handled on his own for so long.”

  Those words brought Lizzie up short. Her brother had taken on the duties of duke and as her guardian at such a young age. For years he had handled it all, never complaining, never putting voice to any pain he might have suffered. When he met Amelia, Lizzie had loved watching him open up. Blossom was the word for it, though she doubted her brother would fully appreciate the flowery verbiage.

  If Hugh wished to hand off some of his duties so he could enjoy time with his wife and the family she knew they were both hoping to start, who was she to behave like a petulant child?

  “You’ll only rarely cross paths,” Amelia added, oblivious to Lizzie’s thoughts.

  Lizzie nodded and tried to clear her mind of her worries. They mattered little at the moment, and Hugh might not even hire the man. So there was no use preparing for the worst, even if it had become her nature to do so in the past few years.

  “Did you bring the book?” Lizzie asked, pushing the difficult subjects out of the way as she vowed to enjoy the next few days with her friend. She and Amelia were rarely able to spend time alone, and she cherished it.

  “I did!” Amelia said, and pulled from her reticule a novel they had each been interested in and decided to take turns reading aloud to each other on the trip to Brighthollow. “The Children of the Abbey! Are you ready for a tale of desperate romance and stolen inheritance?”

  “Always,” Lizzie said with a laugh that helped to dispel her fears.

  Amelia opened the book to the first page and smiled across the carriage. “Then let’s begin.”

  Lizzie settled back against the carriage seat and closed her eyes so she could better picture the story about to unfold. It would be a good way to forget her troubles. A good way to forget the world.

  Morgan shifted in his place on the settee as he and Roseford waited for Brighthollow to join them. In the hours he’d taken to ready himself, his throbbing head had gotten a bit better and he no longer felt like he would cast up his accounts. He was almost human again. Or as close as he ever got.

  The door to the parlor opened, and both Morgan and Robert rose as the tall, handsome Duke of Brighthollow entered the room. Morgan watched as his brother crossed to his old friend. The two men embraced, pounding each other’s backs and exchanging warm and obviously genuine expressions of reunion.

  Morgan had to fight not to turn away from it. Robert was all ease with his duke friends. Their club was his home, their friends his family. Morgan was…well, he knew he was a responsibility his brother didn’t really want and not much more.

  “Hugh, may I present my brother, Morgan Banfield,” Roseford said, forcing Morgan to jerk himself to the present moment and out of maudlin thoughts.

  Brighthollow stepped forward with a hand outstretched in greeting. There was no hesitance as he caught Morgan’s hand and gave it a firm, certain shake. “A pleasure to officially make your acquaintance at last. I’ve seen you from time to time out in Town and I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Morgan stiffened as he sent his brother a look. “I’m sure Roseford’s assessment of me highlights all my best qualities.”

  The warmth on Brighthollow’s face faded a fraction, replaced by a slightly protective shadow. “Roseford has never expressed anything but consideration for you, Mr. Banfield. And I welcome you to my home. Please, do sit. Would you like tea or something stronger?”

  Roseford shook his head as he retook his seat on the settee and Morgan settled across from him in a chair. “Banfield doesn’t need anything stronger.”

  Morgan glared at him again. “So my nursemaid says. I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

  “Hmm,” Brighthollow murmured, and took a place beside Robert. Now there were two sets of eyes focused on Morgan. Judging.

  He didn’t like the judgment. Never had. And he’d learned over the years that the best way to thwart it was through charm. He’d honed his skills in that arena well and good.

  “I’ve heard you’ve a fine prospect,” Morgan said.

  Brighthollow puffed up a bit, just as Morgan had known he would. “We think it so,” he admitted. “I would say it is the most beautiful in the world, but Roseford might argue.”

  Robert shrugged. “You know I can take or leave my father’s holdings. Though I’d argue Ewan has the best of all our estates. He has the benefit of a sea view. That has to be worth something.”

  Morgan shifted again as the long friendship Robert and Brighthollow had shared with their club pushed him from the inner circle of the conversation. He wasn’t certain who Ewan was, but believed he was one of the dukes his brother ran with.

  “I’m sure Ewan wo
uld agree,” Brighthollow chuckled. “But we are straying from the topic that has brought you here, even though Mr. Banfield opened a window to it a moment ago. I am in the market for a man of affairs. And Roseford says you might be the man for the job.”

  Morgan shifted. “He tells me the same thing. I-I suppose we must determine together if that is true. Can you tell me about your expectations?”

  Brighthollow’s eyebrows lifted, as if he were surprised Morgan had the wherewithal to question the offer. That didn’t bode well to his potential employer’s judgment of his sense.

  “It’s a large estate, with a great many holdings and tenants to manage.” Brighthollow leaned back in the settee and folded his hands in his lap. “There are books to be kept, problems to be managed, people with questions that never seem to end.”

  “It sounds like a pleasure,” Morgan muttered with a frown. God’s teeth, he’d made a very nice life out of avoiding the very kind of responsibility being thrown out before him now.

  “It is, much of the time,” Brighthollow said. “I simply don’t want to sugarcoat it. This isn’t some estate that has been ignored or uncared for, so there’s no expectation that you would bring it back from the brink. However, I don’t want it to fall into disrepair or ruin. Too many lives depend upon its careful management.”

  “And who was doing that duty before?” Morgan asked. “And why did they leave their post?”

  To his surprise, Roseford and Brighthollow exchanged a look, and then they both began to laugh.

  He tilted his head at the strange reaction. “Did I say something funny?”

  “The current manager is being fired because he wants to spend more of his time making babies with his lovely wife, I think,” Robert teased.

  Brighthollow inclined his head with a smile. “Though Roseford is a bit blunt about it, he does answer the question. I have been the sole manager of my properties since I took the title from my father twelve years ago. But Amelia and I have been married for three years and we are…” He smiled again. “Well, I have other priorities that don’t allow me to take care of my estate as closely. Do you feel you would be interested in taking on the challenge?”