One More Kiss

CHAPTER Nine





THE COUNTESS CALLED for their attention and several conversations faded as everyone turned to her. “Mrs. Kendrick wants to share her talent this evening. She claims she will be awake all night worrying if she does not. Of course there will be more guests in a few days, but she would prefer to entertain you now.”

“I could help her sleep.”

Beatrice pretended she had not heard Lord Crenshaw’s comment, certain that it was meant for Lord Belmont’s ears only.

“Did you hear what Lord Crenshaw said?” Ceci whispered to her sister.

Beatrice nodded.

“And the earl laughed. How could he?”

“What else would he do? I expect men make those sorts of comments all the time.”

“Not Papa!” Cecilia said with shocked certainty.

“No, not Papa,” Beatrice lied, allowing a flash of annoyance at her sister’s naïveté. After all, Papa was a man, not even born a gentleman.

“It was a comment no gentleman should make in the presence of ladies.” Cecilia blushed. “Mayhap he does not think of us as ladies.”

“Of course he does, Ceci. He did not think we would hear him. Now stop buying trouble and let’s watch Mrs. Kendrick.”

Cecilia gave a halfhearted nod, pretending that she believed her sister.

“If you would all have a seat in the chairs gathered in this semicircle.” The countess gestured toward the seating.

Most took the seat nearest to them, though a few of the gentlemen remained standing, moving to the edge of the circle.

Mrs. Kendrick stood in the center of the gold-tone Turkey carpet. Her dog was wide awake now. With a word for his ears alone she set him on the carpet and waited while he sat up and looked at her.

“Good dog.” Her voice had a singsong quality to it when she spoke to her pet, and Beatrice suspected that the dog responded to the tone as much as her words.

Mrs. Kendrick went through a series of conventional commands including “Sit,” “Roll over,” and “Shake.” The dog performed all on cue and everyone made appropriate sounds of approval.

“That, my friends, was to prepare you and Finch, my dog, for the real performance.”

She looked at Finch, who sat, shaking with nervous excitement. “Finch, find the tallest man in the room.” Without hesitation he ran over to Lord Jess, who was standing on one end of the semicircle of chairs. Jess made a bow to the dog and the assembled guests.

Mrs. Kendrick’s “Good dog!” brought him back to her for a reward. He sat up, accepted the treat, and then moved in a gesture that looked amazingly like a bow. The company laughed and applauded lightly.

“Finch is not a purebred but is every bit as refined in his behavior as any gentleman I know.” She glanced at Beatrice and added, “Most of the time.”

Beatrice ran her fingers over the old spectacles she was carrying in her reticule and nodded with what she hoped looked like gracious dismissal.

“Finch! Find the man who wears a red scarf.”

He arrowed straight to Lord Destry, who was not wearing his scarf this evening, and everyone applauded.

With each success Mrs. Kendrick rewarded Finch with the tiniest tidbit of meat, after crooning the familiar “Good dog!” and entertaining the other guests with tales of Finch’s extraordinary daring.

“Now find the Earl of Belmont.” Finch looked at the two remaining men and went over to sit at the feet of Belmont, who laughed with the rest of them.

“Finch spent most of the first three years of his life on my husband’s ship. We were both amazed that when the admiral retired Finch was happy ashore.”

“My guess is that he took his cue from your husband,” Belmont suggested.

What a lovely thing to say, Beatrice thought, and watched the earl. He wasn’t smiling but there was a twinkle in his eyes that made Beatrice wonder if he was attracted to the young widow.

Mrs. Kendrick gave the earl an almost melancholy smile. “How kind of you, my lord. No doubt Finch has grown attached to me these past two years. I am wondering how he will like London.”

“Given what the earl surmised,” the countess said, “I imagine he will enjoy London as much as you do.”

“I hope so. I am looking forward to next Easter and the Season, even though it will not be my first. You three will have such an adventure. You must be over the moon with anticipation.” Mrs. Kendrick looked at each of the young ladies in turn as she spoke, and Beatrice did her best not to grin back, though she did smile and nod with perhaps too much enthusiasm. It made up for Cecilia’s half nod and Miss Wilson’s blush. Yes, they had not yet been invited to participate but surely Mrs. Kendrick’s obvious approval was a goodwill gesture no one could ignore.

“Now, Finch,” Nora Kendrick said, returning her attention to her dog. “Find the youngest guest among us.” He went to Miss Wilson unerringly.

“Find the twins. One and two.” She held up her hand, showing one finger and then two, and Finch trotted over and nosed Beatrice’s shoe, and then Cecilia’s. After praise and reward, Mrs. Kendrick gave another command and with that she curtsied to the party.

“I will now give Finch one final command.” She looked at her dog and held out her arms. “Show everyone who you love best.”

With a bark of understanding, Finch jumped into her arms. Everyone laughed and applauded with enthusiasm.

“That was delightful, Nora, and a fine example of what I am hoping each of you can entertain us with over the next week.”

Beatrice went over to congratulate Finch and his owner, hoping it would show that there were no ill feelings left over from their first meeting.

Lord Jess came up beside them and offered his congratulations, too. Beatrice could feel him next to her. Even though they were not touching, his presence heightened all her senses, and made her feel restless. She wondered if he felt the same way. Would their connection grow even stronger if she reached out and touched the back of his hand?

Oh dear, he made her feel reckless, not restless. Beatrice was trying to think of a gracious way to move away when the Earl of Belmont approached. “A fine trick, Mrs. Kendrick.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She gave him a mere sketch of a curtsy.

“Tell me, how is it that you gave such a fine fellow a bird’s name?” Lord Belmont reached out to stroke the dog, a gesture that brought his hand rather too close to Mrs. Kendrick’s breast.

Beatrice noted that Mrs. Kendrick did not seem to mind the close contact. Indeed, she stepped a little closer, just a half step but a step nonetheless. Lord Belmont scratched Finch’s chin and smiled down at the dog.

Beatrice looked at Lord Jess, whose amusement made her feel like a child among adults. To walk away now would be rude. Besides, it would be good for her to watch a flirtation between a sophisticated couple.

When Lord Jess glanced at her, Beatrice gave what she hoped looked like a knowing smile and turned her attention to Mrs. Kendrick, ignoring the fact that his glance made her feel ever more reckless.

“My dog is named Finch because as a puppy he liked to chase birds so much I thought he wanted to be one. Naming him for a bird was as close as I could come to giving him his heart’s wish.”

“I see.” Lord Belmont stood his ground but folded his arms across his chest, which was as good as moving closer. They were barely a hand’s width apart. Beatrice noticed that Lord Jess started to imitate the earl’s stance, but changed his mind and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Finch being so much more refined a name than Vulture or Egret?” Belmont asked. When Mrs. Kendrick nodded he went on. “But what about Falcon or, perhaps, Robin?”

“Falcon is much too pretentious for such a small fellow and Robin better suited to a girl, I think.”

“I was able to puzzle out the trick,” the earl announced. “For we all know that it is quite impossible for a dog to know who has a habit of wearing a red scarf and which two are twins.”

When Mrs. Kendrick would have protested, the earl stayed her with a raised hand, with one finger almost, almost pressed to her lips.

“I will keep the secret, but it will cost you, Mrs. Kendrick.”

“Will it?” she asked with a smile, not so much flirtatious as amused. She finally had enough mercy to include the two onlookers. “Do you have any suggestions, Lord Jess, Miss Brent?”

“For what Belmont should charge,” Lord Jess asked, “or what the secret to Finch’s tricks is?”

Beatrice laughed. She could not help it. She spluttered an “I beg your pardon,” and pressed her lips together to silence her giggle.

“Please, do not,” Lord Jess urged. “I so enjoy an appreciative audience.”

“Nevertheless, my lord,” Mrs. Kendrick said, with laughter in her voice, too, “I think the earl and I can determine payment quite on our own.”

“Then we shall leave you to it.” Jess bowed and took Beatrice’s arm and there was an explosion of feeling that bolted to her belly and lower. He did not react at all. Did he not feel the same way?

Before they could walk away, Mrs. Kendrick stopped Lord Jess with a hand to his sleeve. “No, please stay.” She made no further explanation of her request.

Jess turned to Belmont. “We are staying.”

“I would just as soon have you leave but will bow to the lady’s sensibilities.”

Holding her arm still, Lord Jess said, “Miss Brent confided in me that she is desperate to know the explanation for Finch’s tricks.”

“I said no such thing,” Beatrice insisted, then decided to try her hand at the game of flirting. “But Lord Jess read my mind.” She lowered her eyes. “I am endlessly curious.” Rather pleased with her own attempt at a phrase with double meaning, she looked up at her small audience. “About almost everything.”

The earl laughed. Lord Jess dropped her arm to cover a convenient coughing spell and Mrs. Kendrick nodded at her with approval. “We have among us a fine student of the arts.” She did not specify exactly which arts she meant, and for some reason a bedroom popped into Beatrice’s mind.

“I will disclose the secret of Finch’s genius,” Lord Belmont said, “but only if you wish to have the illusion of the dog’s intelligence spoiled.”

When no one objected the Earl of Belmont went on. “The first person you asked Finch to identify was Lord Jess, who was standing at the end of the half circle of guests. The next was beside him and so on. You introduced enough distraction in between your commands that I am sure most did not notice the order was quite precise.”

“You are too clever, my lord.” Nora Kendrick hugged her dog close as if consoling him. “I thought I was quite circumspect.”

“That you are, my dear lady, but I am quite observant.”

At that moment Crenshaw and Miss Wilson approached them. As Beatrice had observed, whenever Lord Crenshaw approached a group Jess excused himself or left without a word.

After watching them carefully since their mutually curt greeting, Beatrice had decided that they were at odds over something. Perhaps a game that had gone wrong. Or a quarrel over a woman. Or even something as simple as a horse one had purchased even after the other had made his interest known.

She would dearly love to know the details.


AS HE STEPPED away, Jess heard Miss Wilson say, “How ever did you train your dog, Mrs. Kendrick? Our dogs can do no more than fetch sticks.”

He moved toward the window, withdrawing from the conversation. From his new vantage point Jess watched as Mrs. Kendrick allowed Belmont to take her dog and cuddle him in his arms. Now there was an interesting duo: a wealthy widow and an impoverished earl. An association that would be best served by marriage for the earl, and yet Mrs. Kendrick was decidedly independent. How entertaining. He wondered if Destry would care to wager on who would win.

Miss Brent, or the little Venus, as he still thought of her, was now in earnest conversation with Destry with the same intensity she had shown with Crenshaw. It could just be her way. He wondered how that intensity would show itself in the bedroom. He smiled at the thought and banished it as quickly. He was not shopping in the marriage mart. Not this week or this year. Maybe never. And Miss Brent was not suited to anything less than lifelong commitment.

He forced himself to avert his eyes, and immediately caught sight of Miss Cecilia Brent. Beatrice’s sister was a beauty and would have no trouble garnering all the attention she could crave, even if she was alone at the moment, staring out the window. He took a step in her direction as he eyed the last couple.

The countess and Mr. Brent stood together talking to a young man who had just come in, not one of their party. The countess and Brent were a pairing he never would have guessed, but the way they stood so close, their clothes touching, if not their bodies, told him that they were deep into an affair and still delighted with it.

Jess recalled the countess’s husband, who had been more interested in directing the farming of his land than in London or Parliament. As a husband he had regarded his wife with an offhand affection. They had lived apart for months at a time, the countess spending the entire season in London while the earl was on his estate. The arrangement had seemed to suit them both.

Mr. Brent could not be more different. He was intense and dogged in his pursuit of whatever he wanted; at least, that was what Jess’s brother David had told him. Thinking back to how Brent had escorted his daughters into dinner, Jess decided he was either as controlling as Crenshaw or very protective of those he loved. Perhaps both.

Venus finally saw the man who was talking with the countess and her father. With a word to Destry they both joined that group. She greeted the young man with such enthusiasm that Jess realized they were friends of long standing. Perhaps more than friends.

It didn’t matter to him. He was a confirmed bachelor, Jess reminded himself, for the second time in as many minutes. He looked about at his fellow guests, several of whom were also watching the tableau by the door. Relieved he was not the only one fascinated by Beatrice, Jess moved across the room to Miss Cecilia, who would surely know the newcomer’s identity.