Passions of a Gentleman (Gentlemen of Honor Book 3) (4 page)

What was it about this young lady that consumed him so much?

Never mind. He didn’t want to know. The truth was she didn’t like him. And not just in the way that Isabelle and Lucy didn’t like him, Rae truly didn’t like him. Which was fine by him, but he’d do very well to just stay away from her before he ended up with yet another romantic scandal on his hands. He shuddered and absentmindedly picked up his pace, slowing only mere seconds later when he heard the words that had the power to paralyze a man in his current state of mind:

“Oh, Henrietta dear, I told you he’d come a-calling.”

Simon’s head snapped so hard to the left he was sure he’d have a stiff neck for at least a week.

There, on a set of grey steps on the other side of the street stood Lady Townson and Rae.

Simon waved and offered a stiff smile.

Lady Townson was oblivious to his disinterest and waved him over.

He stayed put.

She was not one to be deterred he was quickly learning. “We were about to go to the park, Mr. Appleton. Would you like to come along?”

No.
“I need to be getting back to my office.” It wasn’t a lie exactly. He did need to get back to his office. Just not until he got his lodgings for the evening worked out.

“Are you headed there now?” Lord Townson asked walking through the door, black hat in his hand.

Simon nodded. Lord Townson and several of his lofty friends and acquaintances made up the majority of the Appletons’ clientele. If his lordship wanted Simon to stand on his head on the street, Simon had better find a way to make it happen.

“Unfortunate,” Lord Townson said. “I was hoping to see about some future investments.”

“I have time now,” Simon rushed to say. Likely, the man didn’t wish to go on a walk with the ladies any more than Simon did.

“Perfect.” Lord Townson nodded his approval and without further invitation Simon made his way across the street.

When he reached the other side of the street, Simon bowed to the ladies and greeted them. There was no need to be rude to either of them, just not overly interested. Interest of any sort was a slippery slope, to be sure.

“Lord Townson,” he said at last, waiting for the man to show him into his study.

Townson arched a brow.

“Future investments…” Simon promoted. Was the man so besotted with his blushing wife he’d already forgotten?

“Let’s talk on the way to the park.”

Simon clamped his lips closed to resist the urge to grumble. Lady Townson, however, possessed no such restraint to keep her happy noises in check.

Reluctantly, Simon turned in the direction of the park.

Beside him, Townson cleared his throat and gave a pointed look in the direction of Rae.

With a deep breath that did nothing to steel his resolve, Simon held his arm out toward her.

“There you are, Appleton,” Townson said, proffering his arm to Lady Townson.

Simon frowned. “How exactly are we supposed to talk about your bank account with ladies on our arms, Townson?” he blurted before he could think better of how rude it sounded. Not that it mattered; there wasn’t a polite way to ask that.

“I said I wanted to see about some future investments.” He bobbed his head in the direction of where Rae barely clutched Simon’s arm, then winked at them. “I’m seeing about it right now.”

R
ae’s heart
lurched into her chest. She thought Andrew was on her side! “Traitor,” she mouthed in his direction.

The walk to the park would best be described as awkward at best.

Had it not been for his familiar green eyes and brown hair Simon would have been unrecognizable. He only spoke when spoken to and said only enough to answer the question, nothing more.

“I daresay your Mr. Appleton is in desperate need of a house party,” Brooke surmised when the footmen had finished serving their dinner platters.

Rae resisted the urge to grind her teeth and instead refolded her napkin. “Ignoring that you keep referring to him as
my
Mr. Appleton—”

“I don’t think you’re ignoring it at all since you just mentioned it,” Andrew said helpfully.

She cut her eyes at him. “Has Simon transferred all of his annoying remarks to you?” That would certainly explain his silence today. Noting Andrew’s raised eyebrow, she knit her brow.

“Simon, eh?” Andrew asked with a chuckle.

Dread washed over her. “Mr. Appleton. Simon. Mr. Simon Appleton.” She waved her hand in the air. “They’re all the same person.”

“That may be,” Andrew conceded, stabbing a piece of meat on his plate. “But, I’ve never heard anyone, save his father, refer to him as Simon.”

She looked to Brooke, an ill-mannered American Heathen, for support and realized a second too late, she wouldn’t be finding any there. “He introduced himself to me as Simon,” she forced. “Besides, if I say Mr. Appleton, you might not know which one I’m speaking of.”

Andrew’s blue eyes flared wide. “Do you have a secret
tendre
for Walter Appleton, then?”

She wanted to groan and protest, but that’s what they wanted. “Shhh. Must you expose all of my secrets?”

Brooke choked on her drink. “Well, that would certainly explain your lack of interest in the younger Mr. Appleton,” she said, putting her glass back down and reaching for her napkin. “So, perhaps
he
is your Mr. Appleton.”

R
ae cringed
. “My interest lies with neither of them.”

“All right,” Brooke said slowly. She shot Rae a compassionate smile. “Henrietta, all you have to do is just tell me who it is who holds your heart, and I’ll help you snag him.”

“She means it, too,” Andrew added. “I didn’t stand a chance.”

“But he’s not interested in me that way,” she admitted softly. A sudden, overwhelming crushing sensation threatened to shatter her heart. Last Season when she’d returned home, rumors had swirled that in her absence Mr. Fisher had been spending time with Ursula Bruin. If only she’d been there… If only she’d found a way to convince Mr. Fisher to run off with her before the start of the Season. He’d been reluctant, claiming they’d have to forever live in exile since she was under the age of consent.

“I think you’re wrong,” Brooke said.

Rae started. “Pardon?”

“I think Mr. Appleton is certainly interested in you that way.”

“I wasn’t speaking of him,” Rae argued. Truly, did Brooke have cotton in her ears?

“That’s what you always say,” Brooke mused. “But—” She held up a single hand, halting Rae’s protest. “I’ve seen the way you two exchange looks across the ballroom. I also saw the way the two of you danced. And not just at my insistence.” She wagged her finger at Rae. “I saw the two of you waltz before that. I also can’t help but notice that every time you claim that you have no interest in him your eyes sparkle.”

“With hatred and detest,” Rae interrupted.

Brooke snorted. “That’s what my sister Liberty always claimed she felt for Paul. Turns out—” she traced the rim of her goblet with the tip of her index finger— “she loved him all along.”

“Well, I assure you that is not the case here.”

Sighing, Brooke clasped her hands together and rested her chin on top of them. “All right, then what is his name?”

Rae’s mouth felt like it had been stuffed with the same cotton Brooke wore in her ears. She shook her head. She couldn’t tell them. They’d be just as negative about her choice as Juliet had been.

“Is he unsuitable?” Andrew asked quietly.

“Drake and Juliet would consider the match unsuitable,” Rae said, meeting his compassion-filled eyes. No need to explain
why
they’d find the match unsuitable.

“I’m sure Andrew’s mother might have considered me unsuitable, too,” Brooke added. “And my sister, who married the dowager's step-brother, a duke, at that.”

“So then you understand…”

Brooke nodded. “Considering your sister married out of class, I think she does, too,” she added, stealing away every bit of Rae’s elation.

“No, she doesn’t.” Rae sighed. “Just forget I mentioned him.”

“Does that mean you’re ready to discuss snagging your Mr. Appleton?”

“It must bother you beyond belief that you haven’t been responsible for a wedding this Season,” Rae said.

“No,” Brooke said at the same time her husband said, “It keeps her up at night.”

Despite herself, Rae laughed and Brooke swatted at her husband. “Never mind him.” Dropping her hands to her lap, she asked, “Are you sure he’s the one you want?”

“Yes.”

Brooke reached across the table for Rae’s hand. “Then, let’s formulate a plan.”

* * *

“
B
rooke
, dearest, I love you beyond all reason, but I’m afraid they might need to lock you up soon,” Andrew said, running his fingers through the brown curls that hung by her shoulders.

She pushed him onto his back and propped herself up on her left elbow. With her right hand, she idly played with his chest hair.

“They’ll have to lock you up, too.”

He quirked a brow. “For loving a lady like you?”

“Just so.” She lowered he head and kissed the top of his shoulder. “I have a plan.”

“Yes, I recall being in the room when you and Henrietta formed that idiotic scheme to allow her to go back to Crumbles to snag a smithy.” He frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Brooke. There has to be something she’s not telling us.” He pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning back on his elbows. “Drake and Juliet are both reasonable—”

Brooke placed her finger against his lips. “Dear husband, don’t you know by now that I already have another plan?”

“I’m sure you do,” Andrew muttered, falling back against the pillows. He caught her hand in his. “It had better not involve me.”

Brooke pulled her hand free from his and used her fingertip to trace the edge of his hair-roughened jaw. “Oh, you already involved yourself when you made Simon escort Rae to the park today.”

Andrew groaned. “I was hoping their primal urges would have taken over and solved everything.”

“Primal urges on a walk?” Brooke scoffed. “Only you.”

“And you, too,” Andrew countered, snaking an arm around her and bringing her on top of him. “You know as well as I do that when love is involved, it doesn't matter where you are…a bed…a star gazing gazebo...the woodwork,” he said between kisses. “Location matters not if the attraction is strong enough.”

Brooke pulled back hesitantly. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“I don’t mean any of my plans. I mean about Henrietta and Mr. Appleton.”

“It’s as obvious as Lady Olivia’s red hair that he’s smitten with her. As for her…” He scratched his jaw. “I’m not an expert on your sex’s feelings,” he said with a shrug.

“Nor, need you be,” Brooke said with another kiss. “Only mine.” She kissed him again then put her head on his chest. “Sometimes what we want seems to be driven by what we cannot have. If she
can
have her smithy, perhaps she’ll see him how he really is and not how she thinks he is.”

“And if she decides to marry him?”

Brooke sighed. “Well, it is her decision.” She moved her fingers down toward his waist. “But I don’t think she will.”

Andrew encircled her wrist with his fingers, staying her wandering hand. “What are you planning?”

“Oh, so you
do
want to be involved,” she teased.

“No.” He released her hand. “It’s probably best I don’t know so I can plead ignorance when Drake finds out about all of this.”

R
ae chided
herself for being skeptical of Brooke. She was a magnet for scandal, not a liar. She wouldn’t rescind her promise to allow Rae a reprieve. Still, Rae wouldn’t allow herself to believe it until she arrived at Crumbles.

Of course then she’d have to contend with Juliet, but after evading Brooke’s matchmaking attempts, she should be able to avoid Juliet’s with ease.

“Already packed, I see,” Brooke said, breezing into Rae’s room.

Rae flushed and ran her clammy palms over her blue muslin skirts. “Please don’t take it as an insult to your hospitality. You and Andrew have been most kind to me.”

“But we’re no match for your Mr. Fisher,” Brooke said with a wink. Rae choked on a giggle.

Brooke reached for the red velvet bell chord and gave it a pull. “While the footmen bring your things down, let’s go over our plan again. It wouldn’t do for us to slip up in front of Juliet. She might hang me.”

Licking her lips, Rae nodded. “Or me.”

“All right, I’ve penned a letter to Juliet telling her of your time in London and that you’ve finally found someone on which to set your cap,” she said, handing Rae a folded, and sealed, piece of vellum.

Rae swallowed and took the paper from her chaperone. Yesterday, Brooke had been adamant that the only way Juliet would accept their story was for Juliet to have reason to believe that Rae had a prospect in London and was just visiting.

“I explained that he wouldn’t be able to distance himself from London long enough to attend Caroline’s house party.” At Rae’s smile, she added, “I tried to keep it as truthful as possible.”

Rae could have sworn she heard Brooke mutter something else after that, but wasn’t certain. “Perfect.” Instinctively, she gave Brooke a hug. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Rae pulled back. “Pardon?”

Brooke plucked at the lace on her glove, then sighed. “I may have mentioned Mr. Appleton.”

Rae’s heart slammed in her chest. “Mentioned him? Mentioned him how?”

“That he’s a potential suitor,” Brooke said, holding her gaze. “Henrietta, she writes to me almost every day inquiring about you. She cares about you—and not just if you make a match. She really loves you.” She flicked her wrist. “I’m sure you know all of that already and I remember at your age that I wasn’t so impressed by my sisters’ love for me. But the fact remains, if I didn’t name a gentleman Juliet would be depositing you at Watson Estate for Caroline’s house party post haste.”

“I understand,” Rae said on a sigh. Brooke was right, dash it all. No matter. Juliet could interrogate Rae about Simon all she wanted, but at least he wasn’t going to be there. She froze. “He doesn’t know about any of this, does he?”

“Mr. Appleton?” Brooke clarified. “No.” She cocked her head to the side. “Do you want him to know?”

Rae stared at the older lady as if she were addled. “Why on earth would I— Wait. What did you say to her?” Without waiting for Brooke to answer, she started to break the wax seal on the paper.

Brooke pulled the paper from Rae’s grasp. “All I said was that he was a superior suitor, one I’d allow my own sister to marry, and that I was confident she’d have no objections.”

“Splendid, now she’ll be expecting a proposal,” Rae said.

“Perhaps she won’t be disappointed,” Brooke said beneath her breath.

Rae narrowed her eyes. “What are you about?”

“Mr. Fisher will be offering a proposal, won’t he?” Brooke put her hands on her hips. “Henrietta, I told you that I was only agreeing to this if you don’t do anything that will cause shame, or rather an infuriated Drake, to come to Andrew’s door.”

Rae nodded. Brooke had been very adamant that if Rae did anything rash, such as running away to Scotland with Mr. Fisher, Brooke would hunt her down herself and well, the rest of what she planned to do was best left unmentioned.

“Andrew and I will be there to visit in three days,” Brooke said, biting her lip.

Rae held her breath and hoped Brooke wouldn’t change her mind now and make Rae wait three days until Brooke and Andrew planned to leave. “You are still allowing me to go today,” she ventured.

Brooke nodded once, her lips forming a flat line. “I don’t like the idea of sending you alone, so just to make sure you stay safe on your journey. I have ordered Charlotte and Winston to ride in the carriage with you.” She grinned. “They’re loyal to a fault, so don’t you be entertaining rogue ideas.”

“Or rogues,” Andrew barked from the door. Raking a hand through his black, silver-shocked hair, he walked into the room, a dark look on his face. “I still don’t like the idea of all of this.”

Rae offered him a small smile. It was rather endearing how protective he’d become. She’d never had an older brother. There was Drake, of course, but one couldn’t have too many older brother sorts, could they? Besides, Drake always took Juliet’s side and went along with her matchmaking schemes. Save yesterday, Andrew had stayed firmly in Rae’s court. So…if she were forced by facing certain tortuous death to make a choice between the two, Andrew would edge Drake out. But only by a hair.

“I’ll be all right,” she assured them. “I’ll be to Crumbles around nightfall—by then it’ll be too late to hie off to Scotland.”

Neither Lord nor Lady Townson so much as cracked a smile. Rae bit her lip. Hard. That wasn’t the best thing to say.

“Brooke, I promised you that you’d be invited to my wedding, and for as unladylike as I might be, I keep my promises.”

Brooke reached over and patted her hand. “Thank you for reassuring me.” Her face softened and a smile threatened to overtake her lips. “Perhaps you should stay a few more days so I may help you pick out your
trousseau
.”

“It’d be a shame to waste gauze on a smithy,” Andrew commented. “I’d think—”

“That Reynolds is waiting with the carriage,” Brooke interrupted, shooting her husband a sharp look.

He looked completely unashamed. “Sorry, love. I’m afraid you’re forcing me to spend so much time in the company of that reprobate who dares call himself my brother-in-law has made me less refined.”

Brooke snorted. “Don’t blame Benjamin. You haven’t been refined since the day I met you.”

Andrew arched a brow. “Are you taking credit for my being uncouth?”

“Perhaps,” she said with a shrug, standing. She patted Rae’s hand once again. “But just so we’re clear, you were unfit for mixed company before we ever met.”

* * *

J
uliet’s response
to Rae’s homecoming was not quite what Rae had imagined in the carriage.

“You’re here—” Juliet poked her head outside the front door of Crumbles— “
alone?
”

“Juliet, I’m sure she was safe,” Drake eased.

“Safe?” Juliet’s grey eyes flew wide and her hands flew to Rae’s shoulders, squeezing just a little harder than was comfortable. “Were you safe? The coachman didn’t do anything he oughtn’t, did he? I swear if he so much as laid a finger—”

“Juliet, I’m fine,” Rae broke in. Perhaps she should have asked Charlotte to bring Brooke’s missive up to the door before she disembarked from the coach. She pulled the missive from her reticule. “Here.”

Without ceremony, Juliet broke the wax seal and pulled open the paper.

“Are you enjoying your Season?” Rae asked Drake to stave off her discomfort.

“It’s been splendid.” The pained expression on his face told its own tale of woe. Poor man must have been suffering from a temporarily addled wife all Season. Rae might have felt sympathy for him, but it was his fault. Truly, what did he think would come from all of their hiding in the closet together?

“Of course it is,” Juliet murmured. “We’ve had a lovely time together.”

Rae raised an eyebrow at Drake who nodded dutifully. No doubt Drake would have rather spent the Season in London, but with the physician’s concern about Juliet’s pregnancy, Drake would have driven himself mad had he gone to London and left her in the care of servants. Rae understood his concern since his first wife had died in childbed.

An unusual feeling came over her.
Would anyone care so much about her?
She dismissed the thought.

“Oh, Henrietta,” Juliet exclaimed. “We have so much to do!”

“We do?”

Juliet waved Brooke’s missive around madly. “Yes! We need to get ready for your wedding.”

“Wedding?” Rae and Drake choked in unison.

“To who?” Drake asked, amusement softening his face.

“Your friend, Mr. Appleton,” Juliet said. Then, as if she thought perhaps Drake had forgotten the man who’d handled all of his investments for the last three years. “Surely you remember him, Patrick. He’s about your height. Green eyes. Brown hair. Wide…er…” she tapped her shoulders. “He works with his father who looks just like him, only with grey hair.”

“I remember him, Juliet.” Drake folded his arms across his chest. “Though I find it curious you remember him so well.”

Juliet waved him off. “He is perfect for Henrietta.” She heaved a loud sigh. “Oh, you two will have such adorable offspring.”

Rae swallowed her gasp.
Cough, cough, COUGH. HACK! HACK!
Rae’s hand flew to her throat. Was this what choking to death felt like? If she survived, she’d have to remind herself not to try to choke down her emotions ever again.

“Oh, forgive me for being so indelicate,” Juliet said, unapologetically. She said something to Drake about water then a moment later shoved a glass of water in Rae’s face. “Here, dearest.”

Coughs still wracked Rae’s frame. Perhaps she’d better tell Juliet the truth. Well, not
all
of the truth. But some of it might not hurt? She took a deep breath, then another, and then chanced a sip of the water. The cool liquid was like a balm to her now aching chest.

“Oh,” Juliet said on a sigh. “I am so relieved Brooke was able to secure you such a match.”

Secure a match?
If Rae had any air still in her lungs, she’d have had another coughing attack, she was sure of it. “Juliet,” she rasped. “I don’t think you should assume—”

Juliet’s laughter drowned out Rae’s protest. “Dearest, I might not be bosom friends with Brooke, but I’ve heard enough about her to know it’s safe to assume the match is as good as secured.” She playfully wagged a finger at Rae. “And if it isn’t, you’ll be joining your chaperone at Caroline’s house party.”

Upon further contemplation, it might be best not to breathe so much as a single word that might make Juliet question Brooke’s missive.

“There’s no need for that,” Rae said sweetly. “However, a warm bath and a dinner tray wouldn’t be amiss.”