Tenacious Trents 02 - A Perfect Gentleman (8 page)

“But we both know you can afford to live a
bit immodest. Surely a maid or footman wouldn’t be
overindulgence.”

“A young woman comes in the morning to cook
breakfast, the midday meal, clean and do laundry. She leaves early
on Sunday.”

“Is she pretty?” His brother grinned.

Matthew put down his quill and stood. “Why
are you here, Jordan?”

He studied his manicure. “I was bored in
London.”

“I forgot you have no responsibilities, in
London or anywhere else?” He anchored his fisted on his hips.

Jordan stiffened. “Not by choice.”

“Father is dead. You can do what you want
now.”

“As can you,” Jordan retorted. Did his
brother guess that Matthew never felt the calling to be a vicar,
only that it was expected of him? He had studied, learned
everything he could, knowing this was his lot in life, and prayed.
But, he was never perfect enough and there was little choice for
him now. He didn’t know how to be anything else, whereas his
brother didn’t need to be anything at all, being left a good
portion of father’s fortune so he never had to worry about a thing
for the rest of his life.

“Actually, I am here on business as well as
to visit my younger, but much wiser brother.”

“What kind of business could you have in
Yorkshire?”

Jordan rose from his seat and roamed the
room. “No brandy?” He turned to look at his brother.

Matthew lifted an eyebrow in censure. He did
enjoy a good brandy in the evening but the one thing he hadn’t
stocked was any liquor. He had planned on sending a letter off to
his favorite vintner in London but had not gotten the opportunity.
He had only been here little over a week and it was taking him
longer to get settled in than he anticipated.

“Not even wine at dinner?”

“On occasion, though I rarely eat dinner
here.”

His brother walked over and stood to look out
the window. “Where do you eat?”

“I have invitations to dinner for the next
two months from different families in the community.”

Jordan turned to him and smiled. “And how
many have eligible daughters?”

“Too many.” Matthew groaned.

Jordan barked out laughter. “Well, at least
you are allowed a respectable marriage with a respectable girl.
Father would probably rise from the grave, objecting loudly the
moment the banns were cried for me.”

“Are you sure a respectable girl would have
you?” Matthew chuckled.

“Haven’t you heard, reformed rakes do make
the best husbands?”

“But, are you ready to reform?”

The smile fell from Jordan’s face. Something
bothered his brother, but Matthew hadn’t noticed it until now.
Jordan was his normal, cheerful sarcastic self, but the smile was
forced and eyes more strained.

His brother gave a quick shake of his head as
if to dismiss what was on his mind and focused on Matt. “I just
learned something about Adele and Julia. John told me after Clay
and Eleanor left for their wedding trip.”

“What kind of news could there be? They have
been dead twenty-three years.”

Jordan leveled his eyes on Matthew. “That is
just it. They didn’t die. Father lied to us.”

Adele and Julia were killed when he was
seven. Their carriage rolled off a bridge during a storm. Their
bodies had not been recovered, but there was little likelihood they
survived. Why would their father lie about such a thing? Besides,
Father had married a year later. He wouldn’t have done so if his
wife was still alive?

Or would he?

Matthew shook the thought from his head. It
wasn’t possible. The ramifications of such a union were far too
large to consider since it meant his father’s marriage to his third
wife, Rose, was not valid, leaving their baby sister, Madeline, a
bastard. No, he couldn’t think about that now. This would destroy
Rose and completely ruin any chances Madeline had at a proper
marriage. Jordan and John were wrong. They had to be.

Pounding on the front door interrupted his
thoughts and he pinched the bridge of his nose. This was poor
timing indeed and he couldn’t imagine who would come to call. At
the moment his concerns lay with his brother because something was
bothering him, more than the sudden news of Adele and Julia.

“I’ll see who is paying a call.” Jordan
strode from the room as if he couldn’t wait to get out of there.
Yes, something was on his brother’s mind and Matthew would find out
what it was as soon as they were alone.

Miss Cooper’s voice intruded on his
thoughts.

“I need your help. Wait, you are not Vicar
Trent. I need to see him.”

“No, I am his brother. May I be of
assistance?”

Matthew recognized the seductive tone in
Jordan’s voice. He hurried to the foyer before his brother
successfully seduced the innocent young woman.

Miss Cooper stood just inside the door, her
hat askew and dark ringlets tumbled to her shoulders. Her face was
flushed and she was a bit out of breath. “Is something wrong, Miss
Cooper? Has something happened to your father?”

Her turbulent green eyes focused on him. “Not
yet, but if I don’t find help somewhere, they are going to take him
away.”

Matthew reached for her elbow and escorted
her into the parlor where she could sit. “Tell me what has
happened.”

“My uncle Henry came to visit. He does not
believe papa can understand anything.”

Jordan stiffened at his side and looked from
Miss Cooper to Matthew and back to Miss Cooper. He muttered under
his breath and walked away, shaking his head.

Matthew wanted to ask Jordan why he was so
agitated since he didn’t even know Mr. Cooper or his daughter, but
he needed to focus on Miss Cooper first. Jordan probably didn’t
appreciate the interruption. But, his brother would have to wait.
Matthew was here to serve his congregation and then he and Jordan
would talk.

He turned back to Miss Cooper. “How could he
draw such a conclusion?” Though in truth, most of the parish
believed the same. “Did your uncle speak with your father?”

“I imagine he tried but when Papa could not
answer back in the way he expected he determined he needed to be
institutionalized.” Tears swam in her eyes. “I don’t know what to
do. He has gone for the magistrate.”

“Who is the magistrate?” Jordan asked.

Miss Cooper looked over at him. “Lord
Brachton. I don’t know him, as he recently came to title when the
former Lord Brachton passed. I believe he was a great-nephew.”

Jordan brightened. “Then I don’t see it as a
problem, for the moment.”

“You don’t?” Miss Cooper and Matthew asked in
unison.

“I left Brachton in London a few days ago. He
does not plan to return to his estate until the end of the
week.”

“You know Lord Brachton?” Miss Cooper
sniffed. Matthew found a handkerchief and placed it in her
hand.

“We are friends, yes.”

Matthew narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Most
of Jordan’s friends were not what one would be called upstanding
with the only respectable thing they could attach to themselves was
a title, or titled relative. However, what argument could be made
against a marquess? As he was the highest ranking member of society
in the area, he was the magistrate. Yet, he remembered Brachton
from his earlier days. Brachton and his brother were rarely
separated, unless it was to take whores into different rooms.

Matthew banished the thought from his mind.
That was several years ago, when Brachton, though he was Lachlan
Campbell at the time, was sent from the Highlands to get an English
education because he would inherit one day. Matthew really had no
cause to judge a now titled gentleman based on his conduct of
youth. Besides, Brachton had spent as much time in Scotland as he
did England, preferring to be north. He must hate it now that he is
an English Lord.

Miss Cooper stood and smoothed her skirts.
“At least that gives me time. I need to be ready for when Uncle
Henry pleads his case.”

Matthew gently grasped her hand to offer
comfort. “I will give testimony, if necessary, Miss Cooper, that
your father has full capacity of his faculties.”

She turned a grateful smile on him and his
heart hitched. He needed to stop letting her affect him.

“You have no idea how much I appreciate your
assistance.” She pulled her hand away and Matthew immediately felt
the loss of warm. “I must return home. By now, uncle knows Lord
Brachton is not in residence. He will not be happy. I don’t dare
leave him alone with Papa.”

Her statement alarmed Matthew. “Would he hurt
either of you?”

“No, but he yells so much and is angry most
of the time. I can’t bear to be around him, but I know it is harder
on my father.”

“Let me escort you home,” Jordan stepped
forward.

“That is very kind of you, but you don’t know
my father and we haven’t been properly introduced.”

Jordan looked expectantly to Matthew. This
was one introduction he did not wish to make. “Miss Cooper, I would
like to present my brother, Jordan Trent.”

She dipped a quick curtsey. “It is a pleasure
to meet you, and I thank you for the offer, but I can see myself
home.”

“I will escort you home, Miss Cooper,”
Matthew announced. She should not be walking alone and it would be
dark soon. And, he would be damned if he allowed Jordan to be alone
with her. Only Jordan made him curse. At least the words hadn’t
been uttered out loud, scandalizing Miss Cooper.

It was even odd for Jordan to show an
interest. Innocent young misses were not usually his brother’s
choice of female companionship, but regardless, from ballrooms to
bordellos, women fell in love with him. Matt’s stomach clenched.
Miss Cooper would not be falling in love with Jordan if he could
help it.

“It really isn’t necessary.” She didn’t meet
his eyes, yet she had with Jordan.

When did she become shy around him? Unless
she preferred Jordan over him, not that Matthew could blame her,
but he wasn’t giving her over to a wolf. “I insist. Let me bring
the carriage around.”

“That isn’t necessary.” Jordan stepped
forward. “Mine is out front. We can both escort Miss Cooper to her
residence.”

A blush formed on her cheeks and it irritated
Matthew to no end that his brother managed to cause this reaction
in her. Matthew used to think the reaction from women was because
of his brother’s reputation, but Miss Grace knew nothing about
Jordan. Once she learned the truth, she would be blushing from the
embarrassing knowledge and not flattery.

Grace settled into the plush seat on the
carriage. She had never ridden in anything so fine. The brothers
sat across from her. She looked between them. They were very much
alike. However, Mr. Trent had a bump on his nose, as if it had been
broken and a small scar on his chin. He also had deeper lines at
the corners of his mouth, as if he laughed often, and his eyes were
a darker blue. Vicar Trent did not possess such lines as he was
serious most of the time.

“It is kind of you, both of you, to escort me
home.” She grew uncomfortable under the warmth of his gaze. Not Mr.
Trent’s but Vicar Trent. Though the man had not been exactly
solicitous toward her in the past, he had been kind when she
arrived on his doorstep uninvited. But what was she to do? Lord
Crew was away for at least a week and she knew of no one else who
could testify to her father’s intelligence.

“It is no problem.” Vicar Trent offered an
encouraging smile.

“My pleasure.” Mr. Trent grinned.

She had never met anyone like Mr. Trent
before. He practically oozed seduction. At least that is what she
thought it was for he made her very uncomfortable. Yet, there was
no attraction and she wondered if something was wrong with her. The
man was loaded with charm and he must send any number of women
swooning each day. She much preferred a gentleman like Vicar Trent,
who was intelligent, focused and took time to know people, such as
her father. And even though the brothers looked very much alike,
Vicar Trent was by far the most handsome. His blue eyes were warmer
whereas Mr. Trent’s were a bit sad. He may grin often, but the
emotion was not in his eyes.

Why was she having these thoughts? She never
considered any gentleman in the manner she was thinking of these
two. The heat returned to her face and she turned her head to look
out the window and prayed they didn’t notice. The sun would set
soon and she would need to put dinner out. Mrs. Thomas had fixed a
grand meal today.

Her stomach rumbled at the thought of the
venison waiting. “As you have offered me this escort, I insist you
stay for dinner.”

“No, I couldn’t intrude,” Vicar Trent
insisted.

“We would love to,” Mr. Trent countered.

Vicar Trent shot his brother an irritated
look. Perhaps Vicar Trent did not wish to dine with her. She should
not be surprised. The man barely tolerated her. She quashed the
uncharitable thought. He may not think much of her, but he did like
her father, and he pulled himself away from his visit to help her.
She would see that he received a good meal for his efforts.