One More Kiss

CHAPTER Three





“ARE YOU HIDING from Mrs. Wilson or her daughter, Pennistan?”

Lord Jessup Pennistan took the proffered hand and made his bow to the new Marquis Destry. Impeccably turned out, complete with his signature red scarf, the former Viscount Bendasbrook might have a new title but he was still as friendly as a ten-year-old, and about as short as one, despite his thirty years.

“Neither, but after traveling with Mrs. Wilson, I thought it only fair that Belmont and the other guests have an opportunity to find out where ‘everyone that counts’—that was her phrase—plans to spend the summer, the winter, and the Christmas holidays. Plus the chance to learn about the health and well-being of her other children. All are doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances.”

“What circumstances?” Destry asked.

“I have no idea. I believe I fell asleep. Why don’t you go ask her?”

Destry shook his head, obviously too wise in the ways of the ton and its mamas to fall into that trap. “You know, the countess never mentioned you would be attending.”

“I was a last-minute replacement to even the numbers since Mr. Wilson was unable to break away from the demands of the estate.”

“So no pending announcements from that quarter?”

“What quarter is that, Des? And have you been at the wine already?”

“You and Miss Wilson.” Destry tried to look as though he thought that was possible.

“No, it has been made perfectly clear to me that I am not an eligible parti,” Jess said firmly. “I could not agree more.”

The two looked over at Mrs. Wilson and her daughter. The mother was chattering away while Miss Wilson stood nearby with the polite smile of someone who was used to waiting.

“She is the sort who can talk on without ever taking a breath,” Destry observed. With unspoken agreement the two men turned away from the ladies and found a spot out of their line of sight.

“I guess we are by way of relatives now,” Destry went on. “Since my aunt is married to your brother and all.”

“And the happy ending to that tale was more than welcome,” Jess agreed, though he had yet to meet the new duchess. That was not a subject he wanted to pursue. “How lucky for me that the countess invited you to this house party. It’s been awhile since we matched wits over cards.”

Destry smiled, rising up and down on the balls of his feet. The man found staying still a challenge. “It would be my pleasure, Jess. At least you understand it’s all a game and not some personal insult when I relieve you of a few guineas.”

“More than a few, last time we met. I hope you enjoyed it. This week luck will sit on my shoulder and it will be your pockets to let.”

“Name the place and the game and we will see who has the luck. Perhaps with a few side wagers on what alliances might be formed here.”

“It’s a party, Destry. I thought we established that I’m not looking for a match. Are you?”

“Not likely.”

Now that they had both stated the obvious disclaimers Jess wondered if Destry was as disinterested as he claimed to be. He was set to inherit a dukedom and would someday have to consider an heir.

Before Jess could sound the man out on his true intentions, the countess approached them, all cheerful greetings for Destry. Then it was his turn, and a chill radiated from her as surely as warmth had for the marquis.

“Your ability to enliven any party is well known, Lord Jess. I trust you will do your best to see that everyone is entertained without leaving them paupers.”

She gave him a cool smile before moving on to the next group.

There was a long silence before Destry spoke.

“And what did you do to earn that snub? You did say she invited you to stay.”

Jess shrugged, unwilling to go into details while the countess was still within hearing. They both watched the countess, who had left her hauteur behind as she spoke with two other gentlemen.

“I’ll mind my manners. The only reason I’m here is because Crenshaw is coming and I welcome any chance to best him at play.”

“Crenshaw, here? Won’t that be a problem? I know you meet socially but this is a small group and for an extended period of time.”

“We are quite civil to each other.”

“Despite the fact that you cuckolded him and were named in his divorce.”

“Ancient history, Destry.” Jess’s gambler’s ability to control his countenance came in handy at times like this.

“Is he courting again?” Destry asked.

“Crenshaw and I are not that civil, Des, and you can be sure that is one question it would be wiser for me not to ask.”

“Er, yes, I can see where any interest on your part might be misconstrued.”

“I want the land back. The land he won from me. That’s my only reason for being here.”

“The loss still rankles, eh?”

“Yes.” Which was all he was going to say on the subject, even to a friend of such long standing.

“Indeed, the estrangement between you and the duke over that wager is a source of some distress for the duchess.”

And there it was, no secret after all. “You gossip like an old lady, Destry. The next time you write to the duchess tell her that I am doing my best to rectify the error.”

The countess spared him the need to discuss the subject any further by choosing that moment to address the assembled guests. “Welcome, welcome, dear friends. It seems that almost everyone has arrived at the same time.” She took a moment to nod and smile at her guests individually before she went on. “It will be a few minutes before we have you settled in your rooms,” she continued. “But if you would like to move into the Square Salon, we can begin the introductions, renew acquaintances, and have some food and drink as well.”

“Excellent! I am off to say hello to the others,” Destry said, with a promise to find Jess in the game room later.

A footman led the guests down the passage. Jess, the Wilsons, the countess, and two others brought up the rear of the party.

“I beg your pardon, my lord.” Miss Wilson stood at his elbow and his first thought was to check if her mother was standing beside her. No, she was still on the other side of the hall, but was watching her daughter closely. And him.

“Miss Wilson.” Jess bowed to her.

“Can you identify the lady near the Earl of Belmont? Mama does not recognize her.” Miss Wilson stood with her back to Belmont and spoke very quietly.

“That is Mrs. Kendrick. She is a widow who is only now back in society. Her husband was an admiral in His Majesty’s navy. He survived a life at sea during a war but died in an accident at home upwards of three years ago.”

“How unfortunate.” Miss Wilson raised a hand to her mouth, her distress genuine. Jess wasn’t sure if that was because she understood the pain of losing someone or because Mrs. Kendrick’s presence added a note of sophistication with which she could not compete.

Which was totally unfair to the girl.

She was pretty and amiable, and this was her first house party. The only mark against her was that she was so very young. Seventeen, as her mother had said at least three times on the ride in. He recalled being seventeen and was rather happy that it was so far in his past.

With a quiet “Thank you, my lord,” Miss Wilson turned to rejoin her mother. Mrs. Kendrick’s dog, which resembled nothing more than an armful of fur, jumped down from her arms, began barking, and raced toward the grand staircase where a young woman hastened down.

The dog and the girl met at the bottom of the steps. She scooped up the animal, welcoming his very sloppy greeting even as Mrs. Kendrick hurried over to reclaim him.

Jess ignored the mixed cries of concern and laughter as he realized that this was the woman from the window. The one who had waved at him. Now he could see she was as lovely up close as she had appeared from a distance, with diminutive but promising curves in all the right places. Her brown hair was alive with gold highlights, her eyes a lively brown, and her mouth eminently kissable. Indeed, he thought, she was the very definition of a “pocket Venus.”

Her expressive smile captivated him, both serious and adventurous at the same time.

She held the dog away from her cheeks. The sound of her laughter faded, but the joy of it still lit her face. What a treasure. Closely guarded, no doubt, as Jess realized that she must be one of the mill owner’s daughters for whom the countess was hosting the party.

This little Venus was blessed with a joie de vivre that would eclipse her lack of birthright, and a fortune that would make everything else irrelevant to an impoverished peer. Which he most definitely was not, neither impoverished nor a peer.

And he also had long since lost interest in innocents, he reminded himself. Seducing the unschooled was like making love to someone who spoke a different language. Even flirting brought too great a margin for misunderstanding, tears, and angry fathers. All of which he had grown tired of a lifetime ago.

She laughed again and lowered the dog to the floor. As she did, something dropped from a pocket and the ever-playful dog snatched it up.

“Do catch him, please!” The girl raced after the dog, who was heading straight for Jess. He made a grab for the animal and caught it by the black silk collar it wore. As he lifted the creature and tucked it under his arm, he bowed to the girl.

With the girl at his side, he turned toward Mrs. Kendrick, who was looking as distressed as a mother with a misbehaving child.

“Don’t move!” the little Venus ordered.

Before her words registered, Jess continued toward Mrs. Kendrick, and as he completed that first step he felt a crunch beneath his boots.

“My spectacles!” Venus cried.

Irritated by his own clumsiness, Jess handed the dog over to its owner and bent down to retrieve the mess of metal and glass fragments. He pulled out his handkerchief and wrapped the remains so that she would not be cut by the glass.

“I told you not to move,” the girl said with quiet disappointment.

“I do apologize.” He gave her another exaggerated bow as he handed her the linen-wrapped glasses. Their hands touched. It was that simple, but he felt a jolt of awareness and knew she did, too, by the way her eyes flew to his.

“Why is it that men simply do not listen?” she asked him, still holding his hand and looking as though she truly wanted an answer to that question and a hundred others. He wished he knew. He wished he could give her all the answers. But that was not his role at this house party.

“Because I was blinded by your smile and deaf to anything but your laughter.”

“Really?” She let go of his hand, accepting the pathetic bundle of her broken spectacles, her disappointment at the glib answer apparent. She then curtsied with a flamboyance that matched his. “I imagine you have used that excuse before.”

“Only when it is the truth.” Innocent, yes, but not naive. That was refreshing. “I offer my apologies for the distraction, but then I do think it is you who should apologize to me. For the distraction, that is, since it’s your beauty that caused it.” There, he had coaxed a smile out of her finally. “I am most sincerely sorry to have ruined your spectacles.”

“It’s quite all right, sir. I have another pair.”

The little Venus smiled over her shoulder at him as she turned away, taking a step or two toward their hostess.

That smile, he thought, was the most charming invitation. It was not, should not be, what he wanted at all.

“My lady, my apologies for causing such a commotion,” she said to the countess.

“There is nothing to apologize for. This is Mrs. Kendrick, and she tells me she is the one who should have kept better control of her dog.”

Jess watched the girl make a pretty curtsy to Nora Kendrick and accept the dog’s lick of apology. He was not the only one impressed with her manners. Then she turned to Mrs. Wilson and her daughter.

“I do so beg your pardon and apologize for such an inappropriate greeting.”

To Jess’s surprise Mrs. Wilson made a dismissive sound and her daughter did the same.

“There is nothing to apologize for, miss. We have dogs ourselves and they are endless mischief.”

Lord Belmont and Mrs. Kendrick had gone on down the passage. Mrs. Wilson and her daughter followed.

“Dearest.” The countess put her hand on Venus’s shoulder and patted sympathetically. “I am so sorry. What will you do without your spectacles?”

“I do have another pair; it is only that they are even more unflattering than these were, if that is possible.” She shrugged. “It’s not as if anyone will pay attention to me once they meet Cecilia.”

Jess was set to escape, had moved toward the passage when the countess called him back. He came to her side and bowed.

“Beatrice, this is Lord Jessup Pennistan. And Jess, this is Miss Beatrice Brent. She and her twin sister are my very special guests this fortnight.”

“Miss Brent.” Jess bowed, wondering if she had a brother. The name was familiar, but Jess was sure he’d never met this “very special” guest before.

“I do believe her father knows your brother Lord David and his wife.”

Miss Brent stared at him and he was not sure if the intensity of her gaze was because she was missing her spectacles or because she was waiting to gauge his reaction to her paternity.

“You are Lord Jessup Pennistan?” Miss Brent asked as though she was hard of hearing as well as shortsighted.

“Indeed, yes, since birth,” he said glibly, bowing slightly.

“You know my brother, Ellis Brent,” she stated, and then turned to the countess. “He brought Ellis home after he lost his allowance and more in London while gambling and,” she paused before adding, “and engaging in other activities.”

His pocket Venus was Ellis Brent’s sister? God help him. His time with Ellis had made him consider giving up the gamer’s life altogether. He had not only lost the land to Crenshaw at that time, but had been down to his last guinea.

Ellis had not fared any better. Worse, in fact. He’d ended up with no money and in debt to a particularly wicked group of moneylenders.

Jess had hoped that taking him home would help Ellis’s chances of surviving a brutal retribution.

“I never heard from your brother again, Miss Brent. I trust he is well?” No longer gaming at least.

“Yes, he is. He seems to have learned his lesson and is now settled, married, and living in Scotland.”

“I am happy to hear it.” Better him than me, Jess thought. Married and living in Scotland in less than a year. Marriage was bad enough but living in Scotland sounded like hell.

The countess was anxious for him to be gone, if the stone-cold expression in her eyes was any indication. Then why had she introduced them? He aimed his smile at his hostess and bowed.

“If you will excuse me, my lady and Miss Brent, I will join the other guests and look forward to seeing you later.”