Regency 09 - Redemption (4 page)

As if she had read his
mind, she said haughtily, “I do not go about bragging about my
knowledge, sir. I know how to act around gentlemen.”

“From that comment, I can
deduce one of two things,” he replied with a mocking twist of his
finely molded lips. “One, you are a consummate actress and an
accomplished liar or, two, you do not think me a gentleman and
therefore subject me to your childish displays of temper and
behavior.”

Her mouth dropped open
further and further with every word until he was sure she would
catch flies were she not careful.

“How dare you, sir!” she
finally responded scathingly. She attempted to stop dancing but he
tightened his hold on her, lessening the distance between them to a
mere few inches.

“Release me! This dance is
over,” she hissed.

“I think not, my dear. You
were asking for that. I’ll not let you insult me by leaving me
alone on the dance floor.”

So Jenny fumed silently
until the dance was finished. She refused to answer any of his
questions or rise to any of his baiting. The dance finally ended
and she was escorted back to her sister.

Dare bowed mockingly.
“Thank you, my lady, for the dance. Rarely have I been
so…entertained.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

“Whatever did he mean by
that?” wondered Gwen aloud.

“Oh, I don’t know,” snapped
her sister, very annoyed indeed. “He is insufferable. I do not wish
to speak about it.”

Gwen obliged her by
remaining silent. But she couldn’t help but wonder what Darius
Prestwich had said to so vex her twin.

“You were unforgivably rude
to her, I think,” Miles told his brother on the way home that
night.

Dare grunted, refusing to
answer. That girl had managed to annoy him in a way no lady had
ever done before and he would not acknowledge that perhaps he’d
been just a bit too hard on her.

“She is a spoiled brat,
Miles. It was time she had a proper setdown.”

Miles bristled. “She is a
lady, Dare, not some strumpet who is paid to ignore your cruelty.”
He flushed suddenly and glanced at Bri’s smirking face. “Your
pardon.”

Bri nodded and would have
replied but Dare was not finished arguing his case.

“The differences between a
strumpet and a lady are money and power, Miles. Otherwise, a woman
is a woman and they are all alike.” He sent Lady Prestwich a
challenging look as if daring her to dispute his claim.

Bri just laughed. “For the
most part, I have to agree. Oh, close your mouth, Miles, do before
you catch a fly. As I was saying, ladies are not very different.
Those without name merely sell their bodies in order to buy food.
Ladies, on the other hand, sell their bodies into wedlock for
position, security, and power. I leave it to you to determine the
bigger whore of the two types.”

Dare and Miles stared. Bri
shrugged. “It’s true, but I think Miles is right, Dare. Jenny is
not deserving of your scorn, no matter what she said to you. If she
were like other ladies, she’d have accepted the Duke of Bedford
when he offered for her in her first season.”

“Bedford offered for Lady
Genevieve?”

Bri smiled at the
gentlemen. “Yes. Now I think we should focus on something else. My
gossiping went rather well, I think. Soon everyone will believe
Rory and I helped Merri kill her husband.” She was referring to her
cousin’s wife, Aurora, and their friend, Leandra, whose husband,
the Duke of Derringer, had recently gone missing. This was what had
taken Adam away unexpectedly and he had taken Aurora’s husband, the
Earl of Greville, with him.

Miles and Dare looked at
her in disbelief and she laughed at the twin expressions. “It is
when I say something so totally outrageous that the two of you
actually look alike. Otherwise,” she shrugged, “you are very easy
to tell apart.”

“I’ve never had any
trouble,” quipped Dare.

“Nor I,” agreed Miles in a
rare display of levity.

Dare gave him an approving
look. “I knew I’d wear you down eventually,” he remarked
lightly.

Miles frowned. “One light
comment does not mean I am just like you now, Dare.”

“Heaven forbid! I wouldn’t
ever assume such a thing, brother. I realize what a sad trial I am
to you and all others forced to endure my company. Please accept my
most humble apologies.” His look was a mask of humble penitence,
eyes cast upward with a beseeching look and hands clasped before
him as if in prayer.

“Oh, Dare,” laughed Bri,
“you are a delight. I envision many interesting evenings this
Season.”

Dare glared at his new
gentleman’s gentleman. The man insisted Dare have his hair cut and
he was having none of it. After a heated debate regarding what was
fashionable and what was not, Dare finally snapped.

“Shut your trap, you
miserable fop!” he shouted. “I will not cut my hair, I will not
change my attitude, and I will not bow to the whims of a
starched-up tailor’s dummy!”

“I never—!” began the man
in righteous indignation.

“Well, perhaps you should!”
snapped Dare. He growled low in his throat, a sound that was so
like an animal the valet stared at him, his pupils dilated
instinctively in fear.

“Get out,” commanded Dare
in a quieter voice. “I will hire someone willing to work with me,
not against me.”

The valet, upset at losing
a job but grateful for his freedom nonetheless, fled before Dare
could change his mind. Dare glared at the closed door and sighed.
Lord, he couldn’t do this. Moving about in the upper echelons of
Society was wearing his patience dangerously thin.

He shoved a hand through
his hair and stared at his reflection in the long mirror in his
dressing room. His own face stared back, wavy black hair loose
about his shoulders, his features set in lines of weariness. He
didn’t think he looked anything like Miles at the moment and that
pleased him to no end. His entire life, he’d had to watch his twin
charm their parents and do everything right. He graduated first in
their class from Eton and then Miles had gone on to graduate first
in his class at Cambridge while Dare had run away from home. Miles
solved every problem their father came up against on the tiny
estate they’d grown up on—Miles was perfect.

This is what he’d had to
grow up with. A perfect mirror image of himself doing everything
right, never playing pranks, never getting into trouble, never
becoming a by-word in Society, never doing anything to sully his
sterling character. Therefore, every little bit of trouble Dare had
managed to land himself in looked ten times worse. Miles was held
up as the ideal although Dare was technically older. When Dare had
turned sixteen, he’d begged Adam to send him on one of his ships so
he could get out from under the disapproving stares of his
family.

He would be forever
grateful to Adam for doing just that. His life at sea had been hard
work and made him take life seriously for once. He had thrived
under the strict supervision of Captain James Ford, a man who
became more of a father to Dare than his own had been.

A sad
little frown tipped Dare’s lips as he thought of that gallant man.
He had been aboard one of the ships that had been lost at sea.
The
Aphrodite
had
been the first to go down leaving the bodies of nearly every
crewman floating in the water.

A chill ran over Dare every time he
thought about it. He had been assigned to that ship but something
had occurred to keep him bound to shore and he’d had to wait for
the next of Adam’s shipping line. His extended visit in France had
not been pleasant but, considering the alternative, he was grateful
for small favors.

“Problems?” inquired Miles
from the door.

Dare didn’t turn. “Nothing
I need help with.”

Miles entered the room,
closing the door firmly behind him. “Why did you come back?” he
asked bluntly.

Dare turned to regard his
brother, his eyes carefully blank. “I wanted to reunite with my
dear brother, of course,” he said with a tinge of sarcasm. “Why do
you think I returned?”

“To cause trouble,” Miles
snapped, his face a mask of well-bred calm and ease in spite of his
hurtful remark.

Dare had the urge to
destroy his brother’s poise. Mostly because he envied him. Miles
had always been held up as perfect. It was inevitable that Dare
would believe it, too. That he wasn’t a paragon as well had always
been an open wound with him.

Dare
assumed an air of surprise. “Trouble, brother? I never
cause
trouble. It just
seems to follow me wherever I go. I’m hurt you’d think so poorly of
me.”

“Perhaps you can take it
elsewhere this time,” Miles suggested mildly.

“No,” his brother stated
bluntly, no longer jesting.

Miles
sighed, shoving his hand through his short dark hair. “Why must you
forever plague me?” he complained. “I thought you had found what
made you happy and I was glad. I thought you’d not bother to come
back with your…
trouble
. Why did you choose now?”

Dare stared at his twin. It was the
closest Miles had ever come to outright saying he did not like him
and would rather live without him around. He wondered if his
brother’s attitude had anything to do with a certain blue-eyed
princess named Guinevere.

“What are you afraid of,
Miles?” he asked gently. “Are you still angry with me over
Belinda?”

Belinda
Markwell had been a neighbor of theirs growing up in Exeter. Miles
had had a boyhood
tendre
on her since they were in shortcoats and Dare, in
one of his stupider moments, seduced the girl just to spite Miles.
It was not something he was proud of but it had happened and he
firmly believed the past was better left in the past. Dwelling on
it just led to hard feelings and heartache.

A small voice in his head
told Dare he was a hypocrite in this particular belief but he
ignored it.

Miles drew himself up, his
blue eyes glinting angrily. “I will not talk about that, Dare.
Belinda was a gently reared girl and you were despicable to use her
in such a fashion.”