One More Kiss

CHAPTER Forty





BEFORE JESS COULD decide whether he should bow to Mr. Brent or offer to shake his hand, the door burst open and Destry and Cecilia exploded into the room, filling the space with excitement. More than excitement. Pure joy.

“We have been looking everywhere for you, my lord,” Cecilia said as she gave an artless curtsy and then hurried over to embrace him.

He was so taken aback he did not respond, but instead looked at Destry with “What the hell?” in his eyes.

“Yes, Cecilia has caught some of my impulsiveness,” Des said to him. To her he spoke with a voice of gentle, if somewhat sickening, affection. “Dearest, I think you are embarrassing Jess.”

With an expression of good-humored apology she stepped back and came to take Destry’s arm.

“Cecilia and I have come to an understanding.” He kissed her hand. “We wanted you to be the first to know that we are not engaged.”

Cecilia giggled and kissed Destry on the top of his head.

“Cecilia is going to stun society with her charm, good nature, and all-too-obvious beauty during the Season. Then, and only then, she will decide if I am worthy to be her husband.”

To Jess, blinded by their smiles, it looked like that choice was already made.

They beamed at each other.

“God help me. Will you two stop torturing me with your good humor?”

“We wanted you to be the first to know that we have no announcement to make.”

“Wonderful. I am very happy for you. Or should I say that I am not at all happy to hear your non-announcement. Now unless you can solve my problem, go away and leave me alone.”

“You have a problem?” Cecilia said.

“Of course, we can help.” Destry strode farther into the room.

Cecilia took Jess’s arm and led him to the sofa that the countess had just vacated. “Sit next to me and tell us all about it.”

What had he done? What could be more stupid than asking two lovesick fools how to make a proposal that was really an apology?

Destry wandered over to the window and peered out of it. “Who is Beatrice talking to?”

Cecilia rose from the sofa and joined him at the window, resting her hand on Destry’s shoulder. “Oh! Roger is back.”

Destry turned to look at Jess. “Aha, so he is your problem.”

Cecilia came back to the sofa but did not sit down.

“You have nothing to worry about. He already refused Beatrice’s proposal. They are merely very good friends.”

“Beatrice proposed to him?” Jess made sure he had heard that correctly.

“Just before the party started. She and Papa had an argument. He wanted her to find a match and she said this house party was about preparing for London and not about finding a match. So she decided to make it impossible by attending the house party already betrothed to someone. But Roger was not about to ruin his alliance with Papa’s company, even for Beatrice.”

“Wonderful, but Roger is not my problem. Beatrice is.”

“Yes, I can see how it will be a challenge for you to find a way to have Papa accept you. He is so set against you and so angry with Beatrice for finding such trouble that I cannot believe he would consider you even if you offered him the business opportunity of a lifetime.”

“I am not going to do that.”

“Of course not. If and when you reclaim that land it is family property. But, I was thinking that you could offer to lease him the mine, just as Roger gives him exclusive use of his creative work.”

“Why would your father be interested in that?” he said, his mind spinning. “Why would a mill owner want to lease a coal mine?”

“Because it would give him more control. If there is one thing Papa does not like, it is surprises. If he knew where the coal to power the mills was coming from, and any problems there might be with supply, then he would have more control, would he not?”

Destry and Jess exchanged looks of amazement. “You thought of this yourself?” Jess asked.

“It is obvious, is it not? It’s like a lady having a seamstress on her staff, and a draper’s shop that always calls when new fabric arrives, and a milliner who saves the best hats for her. Darwell and I have been talking about how to create that sort of coterie when one is new to town.”

Destry shook his head, kneeled on the sofa beside her, and kissed her. “Of course you are right.” He jumped down and came to stand in front of Jess. If William tried to kiss him, there was a punch coming his way.

“Jess, you could apply the same concept to almost anything that interests you. Horses! If you want a horse to win races you must control the breeding, the training, and the track. It makes perfect sense.”

“I’m so happy I could help,” Cecilia said, her smile now self-satisfied as well as joyous. “Now when you talk to Papa you have something to offer him that will make him rethink his opposition to a match.”

“Thank you. You both have been so helpful. But making a match is not my problem.”

“We’re ready for the next one, then,” Cecilia said encouragingly, “but I only have a few minutes before I must change for dinner.”

Jess shook his head. How to explain that a marriage to him was not what was best for her sister. “I think this problem is something that only I can resolve.”

He was surprised when they did not insist, but left him, taking their happiness with them. Perhaps there were more people with whom they wanted to share their non-announcement. Jess went back to the window. Beatrice was gone. Off to dress for dinner, too, he guessed.

Michael Garrett came in as he headed for the door.

“That meddling fool Destry sent you, didn’t he? I do not need his help, or yours or God’s for that matter. Now leave me alone.”

“Destry suggested the same, that I leave you alone, but Olivia wanted me to tell you that we will be leaving in the morning. I consider that a divine message of sorts. Not that we’re leaving but that she sent me to tell you. Jess—”

Jess had had enough. Enough angry women, happy couples, and well-meaning idiot vicars. With no warning and hardly any forethought he lashed out at Garrett with a blow that would have downed a lesser man.

Garrett staggered back, shook his head to stop what had to be ringing in his ears, and pulled his cravat back into place. “So that’s the kind of prayer you’re wanting. I’m not sure that’s what Jesus meant but I’ve turned a few moneylenders on their ass in my day. Let me see if I still have what it takes.”

He didn’t. Jess knew violence had been no part of Michael Garrett’s life for too long, so he gave the village vicar the opening he needed, did not defend himself, and let Michael floor him with a swing that had heat if not power.

“Thinking about suicide, are you?” Michael was panting, more in anger, Jess suspected, than exertion. “You cabbage-headed fool.”

Garrett pulled Jess off the floor, dropped him onto the sofa, and towered over him. “You Pennistans are all idiots when it comes to love. Every one of you except Olivia, who knew what she wanted and near had me killed before she was done.” That gave him pause. “Of course, it could be that it’s not just Pennistans but men in general.” Garrett sat in the wingback chair that was at a right angle to the sofa and thought for a moment.

“That would mean Destry’s the exception that proves the rule,” Jess suggested.

“William is the exception to almost every rule,” Garrett said, and Jess had to laugh.

“He surely knew he wanted Cecilia straight off and no one was going to deny him.”

“And when did you know that Beatrice was what you wanted?”

Jess pulled himself up on the sofa, put his booted feet on the floor and wished for drink. Instead he put his head in his hands. “When Des and Cecilia came in. Who knew that lovesickness was contagious?” He wiped his face and looked at Garrett, whose expression all but shouted “Liar!”

“Or when I saw her with that man who works for her father an hour ago. Out the window over there.” He gestured with his chin.

Now Jess smiled. He could not help it. He knew. If he was being totally honest, he knew. “Not the first time I saw her. That just lit the fuse. It was a long fuse but it burned very fast. It was not when I stepped on her spectacles, not when we trooped through the secret passage or flirted our way through dinner.” His memory was amazingly good with cards but apparently even better where Beatrice Brent was concerned.

“I knew when I kissed her the first time,” he admitted, thinking about the way she had touched her tongue to his mouth. The complete trust of her kiss, the truest gift of her heart. “The way she made me feel complete.”

“Thank God, Jess, and welcome to the club.” Garrett tilted his head back and closed his eyes, as if what had just transpired had been as much work for him as honesty had been for Jess.

“But—” Jess began, and this time Garrett interrupted him.

“You are not the wrong person for her. Listen to me. She is the right person for you. You are not going to ruin her, she is going to be the making of you.”

He heard Garrett’s words from the service. You can change now, tomorrow, next week, or at the point of death. Why wait?

“Believe me when I tell you that with Beatrice by your side even the old experiences will be new.”

Making love, for one, Jess thought, suddenly restless with wanting.

“Now all you have to do is convince her father that you are the man for his daughter.”

Jess suffered a moment of panic, and then smiled. “I think I know a way to do that.”