Read The Betting Season (A Regency Season Book) Online

Authors: Jerrica Knight-Catania,Catherine Gayle,Ava Stone,Jane Charles

Tags: #historical romance, #regency anthology, #anthology, #regency romance, #catherine gayle, #jerrica knightcatania, #jane charles, #ava stone

The Betting Season (A Regency Season Book) (6 page)

BOOK: The Betting Season (A Regency Season Book)
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Who is your family?” Aunt Eunice demanded, suddenly taking her role of chaperone more seriously.


My family?” Lord Colebrooke echoed, looking slightly pale all of a sudden. But before he could answer the question, Aunt Eunice’s eyes fluttered closed once more.

Pippa heaved a sigh. “How do you like your tea, my lord?”


Just a splash of cream,” he muttered as though he’d somehow found himself in Bedlam and wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there.

Must Aunt Eunice be so…odd? Pippa quickly poured Lord Colebrooke’s tea, then offered him both the cup and the plate of biscuits. “I am sorry,” she said softly. “She’s not quite the same these days as she once was.”

But his charming smile returned as did the flutters in Pippa’s belly. “Nothing for you to apologize for, sweetheart.” He took a sip of his tea and then sat forwards on the settee as she went to pour her own cup. “I am afraid my business might keep me occupied over the next few weeks, but I shall make every attempt to attend various functions if I can. Where are you headed this evening?”

Pippa splashed tea into her cup and spun back around. “Vauxhall Gardens,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I cannot wait to see them. I’ve heard such delightful tales from my brothers.”


Vauxhall Gardens?” His grin widened. “One way or another, I will find you there tonight.”

Great-Aunt Eunice chose that moment to wake up fully and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Oh, is there tea?”

Remaining at Berkswell House with a wide-awake chaperone was an abundant waste of time. Besides, it was slightly maddening to be so close to Pippa and have to keep his blasted hands to himself. So, Jason took his leave just as soon as he’d finished his tea and promised his lady he would see her soon.

His lady
?

When had he started to think of Pippa as
his
lady? Damn it all to Hell.

One
afternoon spent inside
one
respectable parlor and he was starting to think like…Heathfield. Reformed rake, extraordinaire. A shiver raced down Jason’s spine. He wasn’t ready to be like blasted Heathfield, hanging on his wife’s every word, casting one adoring glance after another at his lady, giving up his freedom for one woman.

Was he?

Certainly not.

He was the wicked Earl of St. Austell

He increased his stride towards his own home on Curzon Street and inwardly winced when he spotted Lord Harrison Casemore rounding the corner onto Upper Brook Street. All things considered, he was quite fortunate Miss Mills woke when she did and he’d made his escape, or Pippa’s most fearsome brother of the two would have found him inside Berkswell House. Some angel… Or devil, rather, must be looking out for him.

Harrison Casemore’s eyes narrowed on Jason a split-second later, and even with the great distance between them, one could plainly see a vein twitch beside the man’s right eye. Casemore folded his pugilist’s arms across his broad chest and wore an expression one might expect to see in a painting of an avenging knight. “What,” the man demanded, “are you doing here?”

Jason schooled his features to an expression of nonchalance, the one he’d worn all throughout his troublemaking days at Harrow and beyond. “Here? London, you mean? Or England? Or this hemisphere?”


On Upper Brook Street,” the man ground out, stalking closer to Jason on the street. “Did you call on my sister?”

Jason chuckled. “Why would I call on your sister?” he asked, instead of answering the question and touched his long-since-healed nose. “Berkswell made it very clear that I would not be welcome in your home. I assure you, I am not deaf.”


Indeed? Then you’re here, why?”

Again Jason chuckled. “I am out for a stroll, Casemore, not that I need to explain myself to you.”


Oh—” Harrison Casemore halted before Jason, “—you have explaining to do, St. Austell. On that you can be sure.”


Do I?” Jason drawled. “And here I thought I only had to answer to the King.”


And to me.” The man’s brown eyes darkened to a devilish black. “I’m quite aware you accepted the challenge of Cleasby’s bet the other night at White’s. I assure you, I’m not deaf either.”

Potsdon and his wide mouth, Jason was sure. “Then you should be equally aware that your friend is a drunkard, Casemore. His blatherings should be given the weight they are owed. Instead of threatening innocent gentlemen strolling the streets of Mayfair, you ought to be see about getting Potsdon weaned off whatever it is he’s sucking down these days.”

Casemore blanched, but his dangerous expression returned a moment later. “I’m not his keeper. But I am Pippa’s. And
you
will keep your loathsome distance from my sister. Do you hear me?”

Truly, Berkswell should have sent Casemore to Jason’s breakfast room that first morning. The younger brother could very possibly put the fear of God in some men. Jason wasn’t one of them, however. “I will tell you the same thing I told your brother. I have never been interested in schoolgirls. I prefer my women a bit more…ripe. More experienced. My reputation should speak to that. So if you are through with your threats, I will continue my stroll.”

Then he brushed past Pippa’s brother, continuing his lazy jaunt towards Curzon Street.


I am warning you!” Casemore called to Jason’s back.

But Jason simply lifted his arm in acknowledgement of the threat. “Indeed, I have been warned. Good day to you, Lord Harrison. And good luck frightening away other pedestrians this afternoon.”

Pippa glanced back down at her needlepoint, but her heart wasn’t in it. Nor was her mind. Both were fluttering high above Berkswell House, drifting closer and closer to the clouds.

He’d called on her. He’d actually called. She hadn’t imagined him as she’d begun to wonder, or fear, rather. And tonight, she’d get to see him again. A sigh escaped her as the parlor doors burst open and an enraged Harry stalked inside.


Heavens!” Pippa leapt to her feet, dropping her needlepoint to the settee. “Are you all right, Harry?”

His angry eyes settled on her. “St. Austell,” he grunted.


St. Austell?” Pippa echoed. “Has he done something else now?”

Relief started to settle across Harry’s face and he raked a hand through his dark hair. “Encountered the blackguard outside. I’d worried he’d been here.”


Then you can breathe easier, Harry. He hasn’t been here.” And had he been, Pippa had no doubt Lord Colebrooke would have tossed the wicked earl outside on his ear.

Harry agreed with a slight nod. “Davis said some other fellow was, however. Some name he didn’t recognize.”


Lord Colebrooke.” Pippa couldn’t keep the smile from her voice. “He had tea with Aunt and me.”


We had tea,” Aunt Eunice agreed and lifted up her cup as though presenting evidence. “Handsome young fellow.”


Who the devil is Colebrooke?” Harry demanded.

Aunt Eunice gasped, most likely at Harry’s choice of words.


Harry!” Pippa chastised at the exact moment Georgie appeared in the parlor’s threshold.


Colebrooke?” Georgie asked. “Did the elusive viscount make an appearance?”

Pippa smiled, relieved more than a little by her friend’s arrival. “Georgie, I’m so glad you’ve come.” And she was. Georgie knew everything there was to know about practically everything. And Pippa had certain things that needed to be sorted through.

Harry spun on his heels and nodded curtly in greeting, apparently not terribly keen to continue his questioning with Georgie now present. “Lady Georgiana,” he grumbled.


Lord Harrison, so nice to see you again.”


Harry,” Pippa began, her tone just the teensiest bit placating. “Georgie is going to accompany us to Vauxhall Gardens tonight, did you remember?”

Her brother nodded, though he looked far from pleased. “Yes, of course. Just so long as the two of you keep each other out of trouble.”

Pippa couldn’t help but laugh. “As long as Albie doesn’t offer me any of his brandy, I’m certain I’ll be fine.”

After a warning glance, Harry quit the room, brushing past Georgie and mumbling something under his breath.

Georgie cocked her head towards the corridor and her blond curls bobbed against her shoulders. “He’s usually in much better spirits, isn’t he? He always seemed so to me.”

Pippa dropped back on to the settee and patted the seat beside her. “He bumped into Lord St. Austell, apparently. It put him in a mood.” She smiled widely when Georgie assumed the spot on the settee. “But I don’t care about any of that, Georgie. Lord Colebrooke was here. He sat right where you’re sitting now and he…”


He…?” Georgie prodded.


touched Pippa’s hand and her arm and made butterflies dance about her stomach… “He’s wonderful,” she sighed.

Georgie’s lips quirked in a know-it-all grin. “Apparently.”


But...” Pippa shot a look in Aunt Eunice’s direction, happy to see the old woman was starting to drift off to sleep once more. “But,” she pitched her voice lower for only Georgie to hear, “I know practically nothing about him.”


And you want me to help?”


Aunt Eunice asked about his family and he lost a bit of his color. “ Pippa retrieved the vellum calling card Lord Colebrooke had left. “Do you now anything of his family. Something scandalous that perhaps he’s ashamed of?”


He wouldn’t be alone in that,” Georgie mumbled under her breath, then she turned the card over in her hand. “Newly printed, it looks like.” A frown marred her pretty features. “Pippa, I have not scoured Debrett’s recently, but I don’t recall the name Colebrooke as being a peer.”


A courtesy title?” Pippa said.


Indeed. But who is his father?”


Or grandfather?”


That is the question. What is his family name? If there is some scandal or something unsavory or noteworthy about them, I’d probably remember in conjunction with his family name.”

But he hadn’t said. And it certainly wasn’t on his card. “I think asking him would only make him suspicious. And the last thing I want to do is run him off.” Pippa heaved a sigh. “Would you mind loaning me your copy of Debrett’s? Perhaps I can find some answers that way. Or at least a starting point.”


It might take you days just to go through the first volume,” Georgie warned, “but you are welcome to my collection.”

BOOK: The Betting Season (A Regency Season Book)
4.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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