“I do apologize.” He gave her another exaggerated bow as he handed her the linen-wrapped glasses. Their hands touched. It was that simple, but he felt a jolt of awareness and knew she did, too, by the way her eyes flew to his.
“Why is it that men simply do not listen?” she asked him, still holding his hand and looking as though she truly wanted an answer to that question and a hundred others. He wished he knew. He wished he could give her all the answers. But that was not his role at this house party.
“Because I was blinded by your smile and deaf to anything but your laughter.”
“Really?” She let go of his hand, accepting the pathetic bundle of her broken spectacles, her disappointment at the glib answer apparent. She then curtsied with a flamboyance that matched his. “I imagine you have used that excuse before.”
“Only when it is the truth.” Innocent, yes, but not naive. That was refreshing. “I offer my apologies for the distraction, but then I do think it is you who should apologize to me. For the distraction, that is, since it’s your beauty that caused it.” There, he had coaxed a smile out of her finally. “I am most sincerely sorry to have ruined your spectacles.”
“It’s quite all right, sir. I have another pair.”
The little Venus smiled over her shoulder at him as
she turned away, taking a step or two toward their hostess.
That smile, he thought, was the most charming invitation. It was not, should not be, what he wanted at all.
“My lady, my apologies for causing such a commotion,” she said to the countess.
“There is nothing to apologize for. This is Mrs. Kendrick, and she tells me she is the one who should have kept better control of her dog.”
Jess watched the girl make a pretty curtsy to Nora Kendrick and accept the dog’s lick of apology. He was not the only one impressed with her manners. Then she turned to Mrs. Wilson and her daughter.
“I do so beg your pardon and apologize for such an inappropriate greeting.”
To Jess’s surprise Mrs. Wilson made a dismissive sound and her daughter did the same.
“There is nothing to apologize for, miss. We have dogs ourselves and they are endless mischief.”
Lord Belmont and Mrs. Kendrick had gone on down the passage. Mrs. Wilson and her daughter followed.
“Dearest.” The countess put her hand on Venus’s shoulder and patted sympathetically. “I am so sorry. What will you do without your spectacles?”
“I do have another pair; it is only that they are even more unflattering than these were, if that is possible.” She shrugged. “It’s not as if anyone will pay attention to me once they meet Cecilia.”
Jess was set to escape, had moved toward the passage when the countess called him back. He came to her side and bowed.
“Beatrice, this is Lord Jessup Pennistan. And Jess,
this is Miss Beatrice Brent. She and her twin sister are my very special guests this fortnight.”
“Miss Brent.” Jess bowed, wondering if she had a brother. The name was familiar, but Jess was sure he’d never met this “very special” guest before.
“I do believe her father knows your brother Lord David and his wife.”
Miss Brent stared at him and he was not sure if the intensity of her gaze was because she was missing her spectacles or because she was waiting to gauge his reaction to her paternity.
“You are Lord Jessup Pennistan?” Miss Brent asked as though she was hard of hearing as well as shortsighted.
“Indeed, yes, since birth,” he said glibly, bowing slightly.
“You know my brother, Ellis Brent,” she stated, and then turned to the countess. “He brought Ellis home after he lost his allowance and more in London while gambling and,” she paused before adding, “and engaging in other activities.”
His pocket Venus was Ellis Brent’s sister? God help him. His time with Ellis had made him consider giving up the gamer’s life altogether. He had not only lost the land to Crenshaw at that time, but had been down to his last guinea.
Ellis had not fared any better. Worse, in fact. He’d ended up with no money and in debt to a particularly wicked group of moneylenders.
Jess had hoped that taking him home would help Ellis’s chances of surviving a brutal retribution.
“I never heard from your brother again, Miss Brent. I trust he is well?” No longer gaming at least.
“Yes, he is. He seems to have learned his lesson and is now settled, married, and living in Scotland.”
“I am happy to hear it.”
Better him than me
, Jess thought.
Married and living in Scotland in less than a year
. Marriage was bad enough but living in Scotland sounded like hell.
The countess was anxious for him to be gone, if the stone-cold expression in her eyes was any indication. Then why had she introduced them? He aimed his smile at his hostess and bowed.
“If you will excuse me, my lady and Miss Brent, I will join the other guests and look forward to seeing you later.”
“I
KNOW
F
ATHER
disapproves of Lord Jess,” Beatrice said to the countess after she was sure Lord Jess was out of hearing. “But don’t you think Lord Jessup did entirely right in insisting that Ellis return home before he lost more than money? He even escorted him.”
“Yes, my dear, I am sure that is how it appears to you,” the countess said. “However, Lord Jess was equally responsible for introducing Ellis to all manner of debauchery.”
“My lady godmother, we both know that Ellis had discovered those sins well before he left Birmingham.”
“Do not champion Jess, Beatrice. He can handle his own defense,” the countess said.
“He was such a gentleman just now,” Beatrice insisted. “Yet Papa says we are to have nothing to do with him. But you invited him, so he must be socially acceptable. And you did make a point of introducing him to me.” It made no sense at all. If this was what
ton life would be like she was not sure she could manage its peculiarities.
“I allowed him to attend so that you could learn a lesson. An important one. You will meet any number of men like him when you go to London. Full of charm, but little else. Socially acceptable, but not at all desirable.”
“Why not?” she persisted, willing to risk a snub for an honest answer.
“Because your papa and I say so.”
Which was no answer at all. This was a pointless conversation. “I wish Mama were here. She would never keep me in the dark like this.” Beatrice was appalled at the hint of tears in her voice.
“Beatrice, sweetheart.” The countess paused. “I know you still miss her and no one can take her place. But in this case even she would insist that ignoring Lord Jess is the wisest course of action.”
“Then why is he here?” Beatrice asked again, this time with a vehemence that demanded an answer.
The countess laughed. “You are the most stubborn chit. I will not say any more. Go dress for dinner while I settle the new arrivals into their rooms. And promise me you will avoid Lord Jess Pennistan.”
Miss Beatrice Brent stood on tiptoe and kissed her godmother’s cheek. “If it will make you happy. I promise to ignore him as best as I can at such a small house party.”
She dashed up the steps. She was inexperienced and a little too curious but not stupid. She rubbed her hand against her skirt, remembering the amazing way his touch had made her feel, as though she were being awakened from a sleep with the promise of something
wonderful. But once she had released his hand, her normal sensibilities had returned. It was that easy.
T
HE COUNTESS CORNERED
Jess before he could join the other guests in the salon.
“Jessup,” she began in the most dampening tone. “I am having serious second thoughts about allowing you to stay. Did I not make it perfectly clear that this house party is being held to introduce my goddaughters to respected and influential members of the ton?” She paused and gave him a withering look. “You are neither respected nor influential.”
“Yes, my lady.” Jess absorbed the snub, the downright insult, with a mental shrug. The countess was only telling the truth. “And as I told you, the only reason I am here is to win my land back from Crenshaw. This gathering seems an ideal opportunity.”
“It had best be that simple,” the countess replied, “because I do not like being used.”
“I am being honest with you.” Jess tried to keep the desperation from his voice. “It
is
that simple. If you are not willing to allow me to stay, then it will be after Easter in London before I have another opportunity to best him, and by then he will have added it to his entail or made the land otherwise impossible to win back.”
The countess pursed her lips, which did not become her. Small lines around her mouth hinted at her age, something he knew she never told anyone. Forty or fifty or somewhere in between, he guessed.
“I did not ask before, but now I’m wondering why this land is so important to you.”
Honesty was all that would serve. “My mother left
me the land and made me promise never to sell it. I was caught up in a game where one could wager anything but money. It seemed amusing at the time.”
“Until you lost it.”
“And Crenshaw would not accept my word that I would pay him the cash.”
The countess nodded as though she had heard of such games. “I assume there was a lady involved.”
“Yes, a woman. Not a lady.”
The countess shook her head. “So you were coveting yet another woman of Crenshaw’s. At least this one was not married to him, was she?”
“No, my lady.” Jess tamped down the spurt of anger, sorely tempted to tell the countess the truth of what had happened.
“One would think that experience would have taught you that those efforts never end well, at least not for you.”
“Yes.” He kept his true opinion to himself. He hated everything that Crenshaw represented, and removing Sadie from his influence had given Jess some satisfaction. A lot of satisfaction.
“So, young man, this visit is not about winning the hand of a wealthy heiress?”
“No, it is most definitely not, my lady. God spare me that complication. I prefer to stay unmarried.”
She moved away from him. “Then what was that interlude I just witnessed?”
Jess smiled. “Miss Brent is an artless, charming little bit of a thing. But now that I have the measure of her I will be on my guard.”
The countess laughed. “Artless and charming, but with a fine brain that is endlessly curious. Be careful.”
“Yes, my lady.” It seemed a wiser answer than what he was really thinking. Was his pocket Venus going to try to seduce him? He was still doing his best to forget the surge of lust that had swept through him at the mere touch of her hand.
He knew better than to think that lust was something either one of them could control. He would regard it as the warning it was and keep his distance.
The countess sighed heavily. “All right, you are welcome to stay. You heartless rogue,” she added with a smile that was both resignation and anticipation.
“Thank you, my lady.” He nodded his appreciation and bowed soberly.
“However did you convince Jane Wilson to allow you to accompany her?” the countess asked.
Jess smiled and the countess held up her hand.
“Say no more. That smile has been the undoing of more women than I can name.”
He took her hand and bowed over it. “I will be on my best behavior. The land is all I wish to claim.”
“Yes, well, tell your valet to unpack and dress you for dinner. Do not be late!”
B
EATRICE HURRIED ALONG
the passage, trying to puzzle out how she could give the appearance of ignoring Lord Jess while still finding out all she wanted to know about him.
What was the scandal no one would talk about? How much did it have to do with Ell’s behavior while in London? And what exactly did “debauchery” entail? Was it something worse than going to a brothel? For the love of God, that was quite bad enough.
Pausing outside the door to her suite, Beatrice calmed herself. She knew that if Ceci saw her, she would instantly guess that something had roused her twin’s curiosity and would plague her with questions. And it was nothing, really.
When she pushed through the door she found Ceci seated at the dressing table, while Darwell tried several different hairstyles on her.
“Beatrice, you will never guess what the countess has given us.” Cecilia did not move her head so much as an inch, but her excitement was obvious.
“Then you had better tell me.” Beatrice smiled at her sister’s reflection in the mirror and then moved out of sight, settling into a nearby chair. Cecilia could not see her, but Darwell stopped her work for a moment as if she sensed something was afoot.
“When the countess was in London …” Cecilia paused and started again. “She ordered a signature fragrance for each of us. Darwell just gave me mine. It’s perfect. A mix of floral, mostly. Come test it. Darwell has yours in the dressing room and will not let me sample it before you do.”
The countess is a genius
, Beatrice thought, as she went toward the dressing room. It was the kind of gift that would give Cecilia a boost of confidence when it was most needed.