Regency 09 - Redemption (8 page)

She stuttered a bit before
she could discernibly reply. Then, “I would not stop you,” she said
boldly.

The duchess turned and
shushed them, causing the duke to turn as well and give Dare a long
look. Dare unobtrusively released his companion’s hand and smiled
at her father. The duke did not return the look. He just swiveled
back to face the stage.

Dare
leaned toward his fair companion, saying in a reverent voice, “I do
believe your parents actually
listen
to the music.” His expression was suitably
horrified.

“They are quite
unfashionable that way,” she murmured back, tossing a careless
smile at Miles, who was trying to hear what they were saying. “I
should think your dear brother would be better off listening to the
music as well.”

“I shall call the
blackguard out, I promise you, if he persists in starring at us.
Does he give us the evil eye, do you think?”

Jenny giggled, only to cut
it short when her father again turned with a stern expression on
his face. She sent him an innocent grin and shushed Dare for good
measure.

Dare and Jenny said nothing
more for the rest of the performance. Neither was inclined to draw
any more attention.

Dare made sure to see much
of Jenny over the coming days. She seemed as determined to see him.
They managed to avoid Lord Connor’s discerning eye since he was
preoccupied with his own family. They would have been surprised to
note that the duke was ever watchful, and usually with more insight
into the situation than one would have ever thought.

Bri was a willing
accomplice in many of Dare’s encounters with the lovely Lady
Genevieve. She often invited the delightful twin ladies to tea,
gossiping and sharing fashion secrets.

Dare knew Bri didn’t really
like talking about fashion and had an almost violent dislike for
gossip. He was secretly amused she was so transparently trying to
bring him together with Jenny.

On the other hand, he
wondered just what she was hoping to accomplish. While he was at
it, he had to wonder just what he hoped to accomplish.

It was madness. And
yet…

And yet, he knew he
couldn’t stop seeing her. Something in her called out to him,
something unnamed, something…special.

“I have no honor,” he
muttered half to himself one day.

Jenny, having heard him,
started. “Whatever do you mean?”

He favored her with a
searching look. “I gave my word of honor that I would not see
you.”

Jenny just stared at him,
her fingers gone suddenly numb around her delicate teacup. Moving
with precision, she set the cup aside, careful not to jar it
against the saucer or tabletop.

“Indeed? And to whom did
you say such a thing?”

Her companion looked away,
his gaze sweeping Bri’s drawing room, seeing nothing and
everything. Miles spoke quietly with Gwen and Bri, giving them a
moment of privacy. The first footman stood in one corner,
anticipating the needs of Bri’s guests.

When his probing gaze again
met hers, he had carefully masked his feelings. “Your brother, of
course.”

Jenny inwardly seethed.
“Con interferes too much in my choice of companions, I
think.”

A smile of male
satisfaction twisted his lips. “You care, Jenny-love?”

She released a breath of
air that sounded suspiciously like a snort. “You could only be so
fortunate.”

A moment of shared
amusement passed. Then Jenny asked, hesitantly, not looking up from
her tightly clasped hands, “Why do you continue to see me, sir?
Does your honor mean nothing to you?”

Her eyes rose slowly,
meeting his with an earnest desire for the truth and damn him, he
wanted to tell her the truth.

He settled for a
half-truth. “I find that your company means more to me than my
honor,” he told her simply, sincerely. He was a little unnerved
that it was true.

Jenny’s mind wandered as
her maid dragged a brush through her golden locks. She should not
read more into the statement than was warranted, she told herself
sternly. It would only lead to heartache when he decided to
entertain himself with more… worldly…company.

“Are you all right, my
lady?”

Jenny met Alice’s concerned
gaze in the mirror. Brow furrowed, she asked why.

The maid looked confused
herself. “You sighed as if you’d lost your dearest
companion.”

Jenny forced a smile to her
stiff lips. “Did I? I was just missing Denbigh, Alice. No need to
fret.”

The maid appeared relieved
it was something as simple as common homesickness that ailed her
lady. Jenny wished bitterly that that was all it was.

The door to her chamber was
pushed wide to admit Gwen, the Duchess of Denbigh following close
behind.

Jenny rose to her feet,
dismissing Alice with a nod of her head. She offered a sincerely
pleased smile to her female family members.

Gwen grinned back but there
was a stiff quality to it that made Jenny uneasy.

The duchess closed the door
carefully behind her. She stood for a moment, facing the wooden
barrier. Jenny felt a stirring of unease deep in her
stomach.

Lady Denbigh turned. Her
timelessly beautiful face was determinedly blank, not a whit of her
inner feelings coming to the fore. She moved with infinite grace to
her daughter’s side, her hands clasped before her.

Jenny
wished she possessed a tiny bit of her mother’s poise. She had
always loved her mother and wanted to be
her
when she grew up. Now, seeing the
disappointment slowly unfurl in her parent’s beautiful blue eyes,
she wished she were anywhere but there.

She cast her eyes to her
twin, questioning her. Gwen’s smile was strained and after a
moment, faded completely.

“We are concerned for you,
my love,” the duchess said softly. She took her daughter’s hands in
a comforting clasp, squeezing gently. “You have been spending much
time at the Prestwich’s residence.”

“Gwen has visited too,”
Jenny offered, confused.

Her grace nodded. “Yes,
dear, I know. What concerns me is your association with Mr. Darius
Prestwich.”

Jenny didn’t say a word.
She just looked at her mother, waiting.

Lady Denbigh sighed. With a
little tug, she pulled her child over to the bed and sat down. Gwen
joined them.

“If I ask you about your
feelings for Mr. Prestwich, will you be honest, I
wonder?”

Since it appeared to be a
rhetorical question, Jenny said nothing.

“I am your mother,
Genevieve, and I love you. I know you have very strong feelings for
this young man and I’m not sure you understand exactly what it is
about him that worries your brother.”

“Con spends too much time
with his nose in other people’s affairs,” Jenny retorted
bitterly.

“Perhaps,” her mother
allowed magnanimously. “But I think he has reason to be concerned,
Jenny.”

Jenny realized her mother
would not leave it be until she’d revealed the cause of all the
worry. So, with a heartfelt, bone-weary sigh, she invited, “Tell me
what he’s done, Mama.”

Denbigh caught up with Dare
one day on his way to Brooks’s. The duke was driving his own team
when he came upon the young man walking sedately.

“I say, Prestwich!” he
called.

Dare turned a look of
surprise on Jenny’s father. “Your grace, how do?” he asked
politely.

“Tolerably, tolerably,” he
replied, smiling. “Can I take you up, young sir?”

“That depends, in part, on
where you are bound, Lord Denbigh.”

“Anywhere you need to
go.”

Dare laughed. “Very well,
then, sir. I am bound for my club,” he said as he nimbly climbed up
next to the older man.

Denbigh set the team in
motion and silence reined for a few minutes as he maneuvered the
vehicle through some heavily trafficked areas. Shortly before they
arrived at Dare’s desired destination, Denbigh spoke.

“I understand you’ve been
seeing much of my daughter, Mr. Prestwich.”

Dare stiffened. “Yes, sir,
I have.”

“I also understand that her
brother warned you to stay away from her.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why, may I ask, do you
disregard his warning?”

Dare gave his companion a
rather pointed look. “If you believe there is any reason to warn me
off, as I am sure you do, then you know me well enough to determine
the answer to that question yourself.”

A smile twisted the duke’s
lips briefly. “Indeed, I do, lad, indeed I do. I was just curious
to hear what you would tell me.”

“Now you have, your grace.
And let me assure you that I am delighted to have been able to
afford you some pleasure this day. You may let me down anywhere
along here.”

“Don’t go puckering up,
lad,” admonished Denbigh. “I am not amused, actually, or pleased. I
would like to reiterate Connor’s warning to you. My daughter is a
lady, sir, and I will not have her trifled with. If you do not
press toward marriage, I will ask that you desist pestering
her.”