Regency 09 - Redemption (6 page)

Bri gave
him an enigmatic look. “Somehow I don’t believe you are
merely
anything, Darius
Prestwich.”

Jenny and Gwen flirted with
their visitors as they had been taught. A shy but inviting look
here, a whispered word or two there, blushes and hand squeezes for
good measure; these were the key ingredients for an experienced
flirt.

The twins, however, had
been entertaining gentlemen for the past few hours and their rather
limited store of patience was wearing thin indeed. Jenny had
already threatened to pop one young man in the nose if he insisted
on treating her like she was without a brain, much to his
astonishment. He had been so surprised, in fact, that he had
convinced himself he had not heard her correctly and taken his
leave in a state of semi-unreality.

Gwen, who actually
possessed a bit more patience than her sister, finally got to the
point that she was also ready to do someone serious bodily injury.
That was when Darius and Miles Prestwich were announced. She smiled
at Jenny, whose unpleasant scowl marred the perfection of her
lovely features.

The new arrivals crossed
the room, bowing and saying all that was expected of them, offering
little clusters of flowers to each of the ladies. Gwen accepted
hers from Miles with a maidenly blush and invited him to sit with
her. Jenny accepted Dare’s offering with a distinct lack of
thankfulness and carelessly gestured at the chair next to
her.

“Please sit, Mr.
Prestwich,” she said in a tone that indicated how clearly she did
not wish him to sit there.

“Always willing to oblige a
lady,” murmured Dare, already amused by his rude
reception.

Jenny snorted. “Indeed? You
shock me, sir.”

“Not nearly so much as I
could,” Dare pronounced with a certain amount of wicked innuendo.
Her look informed him that his dart was well aimed.

“How is your day
progressing, Lady Genevieve?” he asked politely.

“Oh, you know, as usual,”
she replied with a ludicrous expression of boredom on her face. “I
flirt, I flatter, I charm, I choke.”

Dare laughed, drawing the
attention of some of the other gentlemen in the room, as well as
the ladies. He appeared completely unaware of this, however. “You
are just as candid as ever, my lady,” he told her. He sobered
suddenly. “Don’t ever lose that. Act the débutante to the hilt if
you must but never marry until you find someone with whom you can
be yourself.”

Jenny stared at him. “Does
such a man exist?” she asked with a small amount of
wonder.

“Of course. I wouldn’t
think your brother ever found much pleasure in talking to stupid
ladies and I can’t imagine that his wife is like that. You know Bri
is outspoken and Adam seems to delight in that. Even Miles believes
women should have some brains and he seems to take Society’s side
in everything.”

“And what about you?” Jenny
heard herself ask, vastly interested in this topic and curious
about the hint of bitterness she detected in his words.

His face became shuttered,
distant. “I much prefer stupid ladies,” he remarked in a tone
devoid of expression. He stood. “Please excuse me, my lady.” He
bowed and left her to join a group of young men standing near the
window overlooking the street.

If that was what he liked,
why was he counseling her to retain her independence of mind? It
made no sense to her and even less the more she thought about it.
When the middle-aged Earl of Tarence joined her, she smiled and
became as distant as Dare had been towards her.

“I can’t believe you would
make other plans, Dare. Adam wanted you and I to take Bri and Lady
Greville about,” complained Miles that evening.

“I’m sure you can handle
it, Miles,” he said encouragingly. “I believe in you.”

“You say that now. But Lady
Greville is six months pregnant and scary beyond reason. And I
think Bri is, too. She just hasn’t told anyone yet.”

“She is. About three
months, I should think.”

“You see? I need support,
Dare. Me, alone with two pregnant females? The mind
shudders.”

Dare’s lips became a grim
line as he studied Miles. “When the devil did you turn into such a
whiner?”

Miles drew himself up to
his full height of six-feet-one-inch. If he did it to intimidate
him, Dare thought, he was in for a disappointment. Darius Prestwich
was not easily intimidated—especially by his younger
brother.

“I do not whine, Dare. I
have legitimate concerns. I choose to voice these concerns. And
since they are about you, who better to listen to them?”

Dare stared up at him from
where he lounged in his chair. His expression was patronizing.
“Miles, when will you learn? I do not listen to anyone. I am my own
man. A violent, irresponsible, and sometimes downright nasty man,
true, but my own man nonetheless. Please refrain from telling me
what I should and should not do.” He stood, patting Miles’s cheek
affectionately. “Thank you, brother. I’ll see you
tomorrow.”

Miles escorted Bri and
Aurora, Lady Greville, to a rout in Park Lane being held by Sir
Alfred Tinney and his new bride, Lady Matilda. With a lady on each
arm, Miles led them up the front steps and the three of them
greeted their host and hostess. They fought their way up the stairs
to the upper salons. Miles relinquished his charges to some of
their acquaintances so they could further their gossip about Lord
Derringer and escaped to a slightly less crowded room.

He had stood looking around
the room for only a few moments when he caught sight of the Ladies
Northwicke. They held court from a settee situated near a potted
palm. He moved in that direction.

Gwen greeted him with
obvious pleasure. This was what a young lady ought to be like. She
was polite, sweet, unassuming, kind, beautiful, elegant…he could go
on forever.

Jenny looked up at him with
a question in her eyes that Miles couldn’t begin to understand. He
glanced at Gwen, his black brows raised ever so
slightly.

Lady Guinevere rose to her
feet. “I would very much like to walk a bit, Mr. Prestwich,” she
said sweetly.

Miles bowed and offered his
arm. He sent a questioning glance Jenny’s way but she politely
refused to accompany them.

When they were a sufficient
distance away, he remarked, “Your sister seemed to want to ask me
something.”

“I believe she wonders
where your brother is, sir,” she told him.

“But why would she want to
know that? I thought they took a dislike to each other.”

His companion smiled
enchantingly. “Have you not heard that there is a thin line between
love and hate, sir? I do believe my sister reacts so to your
brother because she is enamored of him. I have never seen her react
so to another man, I assure you.”

“Perhaps I should warn her
about him,” murmured Miles thoughtfully, glancing back at Denbigh’s
other daughter.

“Oh, please do not, Mr.
Prestwich,” said Gwen in distress. “I should not have spoken so out
of turn, you see. It would embarrass her greatly to discover she
had been found out. I regret telling my brother about it but I
cannot undo that now.”

“Lord Connor is aware of
their attraction?” he asked in disbelief. He hoped the other man
had refrained from mentioning it to Dare. If Dare was warned off,
he might court the girl just to spite everyone.

“Yes, I am afraid so. I
confessed in a moment of unease over the angry words they exchanged
yesternight. Con assured me he would look into it. I only hope he
didn’t find anything… alarming.”

Miles nearly groaned aloud.
Of course, Lord Connor found something alarming lurking in Dare’s
past. And Dare had mentioned meeting Lord Connor earlier that very
day. It was inevitable that Lord Connor warned Dare to stay away
from his sister.

“Mr. Prestwich? Miles?
Whatever is the matter?”

The distress in Gwen’s soft
voice pierced his ruminations and he smiled down at the petite
beauty. “You just called me Miles,” he said in some
wonder.

“I admit, I did,” she
confessed, her face turning a becoming shade of pink. “I apologize
if you thought it forward of me, sir, but I could not get your
attention otherwise.”

“I do not think it forward
of you, my lady. I would be honored if you would call me Miles.
And,” he added with a special smile that warmed her to her toes,
“you always have my attention.”