A Promise of Pure Gardenias Read online

  Brendon glowered around the room checking to see if anyone dared ogle the two beauties. Thank goodness this was but a dinner and not an evening of dancing. From the appreciative and interested glances about the room, the women’s dance cards would have been full in the first five minutes. He had to bite off the strangled growl of rage that threatened to erupt at the thought of any man’s hands on either young lady, especially Sophia who looked as delicate as a flower.

  He ran a finger around the inside of his cravat, suddenly feeling the heat.

  “It will be a relief when this dinner is over. Ah, there is the bell. Are you escorting your sister in?” He didn’t dare suggest a change of partner, but he at least hoped to sit opposite and he couldn’t believe the lurch his heart gave when Algernon nodded.

  “Yes, can’t trust anyone else to do it.” The man looked around to see where the two women had gone.

  Brendon did much the same. People were lining up already, his parents at the head of the queue. A mass of dark hair and a gentle scent of sweet flowers suddenly stood beside him and boldly linked his arm, swinging him around and into their place. He nearly lost his breath as he looked down.

  “Sophia! I thought you were accompanying your brother.” Lord! Had he nearly squeaked? He cleared his throat and lowered his tone even while he gazed at the vision of beauty. “I’m not sure he will like this new arrangement.”

  Sophia shrugged her perfect shoulders.

  “Felicity wanted to wish Algernon goodbye and I didn’t have the heart to say no, but if you would prefer I go in with Lucas or Pierce...” She loosened her grip on his arm.

  “GOOD GOD NO!” His voice came out far louder than he had meant it to, but the thought was intolerable. He leaned his head down as those closest to him stared curiously at his outburst. “I mean, no. It would be an honour to accompany my best friend’s sister. It is a long time since we have seen one another.” He tucked her hand firmly into the crook of his arm and took a step forwards.

  Sophia gazed up at him, her dark brown eyes almost accusing as she spoke.

  “Well, if you two didn’t go off gallivanting about the continent for half of your lives, you might see more of me.”

  Brendon laughed.

  “I hardly call five years of school, gallivanting, and a grand tour is traditional. What sort of man would I be if I didn’t know something of the world before I settle down?”

  Sophia remained quiet while she seated herself.

  “An alive one.” She suddenly said as he dropped into the seat beside her. She stared hard at her cutlery.

  Brendon’s brow creased.

  “Well, I don’t intend coming back dead, if that’s what you mean.” The silence beside him had him glancing in her direction. “Sophia?” She lifted her head and looked at him and his heart tumbled over in his chest as unshed tears glistened on her lashes.

  She suddenly laughed lightly. Water bubbling from a spring.

  “No, of course not. What am I thinking, becoming so melancholic on this happy night. Let us talk of other things. This is my first proper dinner out in company. Algernon had my dress made especially. It’s not quite a come out, but almost as good. So many people have come to wish you and Algernon well.”

  Brendon glanced about the table. It was a fine turnout, but his mind was no longer on food or his new life in the military.

  “Your dress is lovely and you look beautiful. The perfect young lady. Algernon will be so proud of you.”

  A blush graced her cheeks.

  “Thank you. I hope he will. It has been difficult for him since our father...” She stopped speaking and concentrated on the dinner in front of her.

  Brendon nodded silently as he ate. Her fragrance tickled his senses. Lovely, pure, sweet. Something familiar about it that he couldn’t place. He took a sip of wine before speaking again.

  “But that will soon be forgotten. The next ‘on dit’ will get the matrons’ tongues wagging over something else soon. Talking of which. Did you hear the story of Lady Worthington sending her footman to chase her runaway dog? After a lively romp across Hampstead Heath, leaving the footman wigless, breathless and, as he hadn’t caught the dog, apparently jobless. The poor man’s fate was decided in his favour only because after everyone had given up trying to catch the dratted animal, the footman had the good sense to tell her Ladyship that he had sent the dog home. With his fingers crossed all the journey back to town, the footman ended up being given a bonus when the dog was discovered sitting on the doorstep waiting for its owner, and Lady Worthington is now going around telling everyone of the man’s legendary canine training skills.” Sophia laughed delightfully as Brendon finished the tale.

  It was only as dessert was served that Sophia suddenly became serious again.

  “You will take care while you are away though, won’t you? And take care of Algernon too. Promise me, Brendon. He is all my mother and I have left.” Her succulent lips trembled and Brendon didn’t know if he could speak, such was the size of the lump growing rapidly in his throat. He squared his shoulders as he stared down at the lovely young woman at his side.

  “I swear that we will stand side by side the whole time we are gone. You have no need to fear for your brother, and your uncle will look after you while we are gone. The time will fly and we will be home before you know it.” His voice had become husky.

  She blinked up at him trustingly and he suddenly wanted the years to be done already. He wanted this to be the day of his return, not the day before they left. He glanced across the table, wondering if Algernon felt the same, but all thoughts of Sophia suddenly left him as he saw a blob of something deep red and wobbly leap from Algernon’s bowl, fly through the air, and land right at the top of Felicity’s cleavage. That he might have been able to forgive, but the tears that sprang into her eyes as Algernon’s fingers delved between the soft mounds of flesh was something he couldn’t ignore.

  White heat of anger ripped through him as his mind went right back to his youth and the tears streaming down his nursery maid’s cheeks. A cry of fury fell from his lips as he lunged across the table and his fist found its way into Algernon’s mouth. Someone beside him screamed and tugged at his arm even while Algernon spluttered.

  “What the bloody hell was that for, Spencer. I was merely saving her beautiful dress.” A stained handkerchief was waved in his face as his arm was tugged again, more insistent this time. He looked away from his ex best friend, ready to beat the person interrupting his justified retribution into a bloody pulp, but his anger crumbled instantly when he saw the horror and distress in the person’s eyes.

  “Brendon, stop! He wasn’t doing anything wrong. Felicity’s dress is so pale. The jelly would have ruined it.” Sophia begged at his side.

  Brendon shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but it did no good. Sophia’s tears just reminded him of everything. Bessie’s face swam before his eyes once again and he turned back to Algernon.

  “I should have known you couldn’t keep your hands off her. You Barclay’s are all the same. Like father, like son.”

  A cry of misery suddenly went up. Felicity shot up from the table and ran from the room. Sophia ran right beside her. And then, just as they reached the dining room door, Algernon’s beautiful sister looked back and for just one moment he stared into those expressive, sparkling eyes. Disappointment, worry, forbearance.

  And finally, was that what he thought? Could he dare to hope, but was that just a little scrap of love.

  Chapter One

  Six years later

  A Shock to the System

  The silence of the townhouse worried him. Brendon Spencer stood at the bottom of the staircase and stared upward, not daring to believe the news he had received at his club only ten minutes previously.

  It couldn’t possibly be true. His father, a distinguished peer of the realm, would never have taken part in a duel. Apart from the fact that his father had no enemies, the man just wasn’t the type to take affront and be
goaded into anything so foolish.

  A sudden cough at Brendon’s shoulder startled him and he spun towards the sound. His parents aging footman nodded towards the stairs.

  “The doctor is with him now, Master Brendon. Her Ladyship said that you should go straight up.” He spoke with the familiarity of someone who had served the family for years, but the man’s voice was so grave that Brendon feared the worst.

  So the message had been correct. His father had been badly wounded. Lord! He had only been home for a year and he might be about to take over the Spencer titles. His father had been nagging him to take more responsibility recently, but Brendon hadn’t taken it seriously. In fact he had ignored every hint. His father was no age at all. No need to take on burdens like that yet. Now worry on both their behalves raced through him. For not only his father’s health, for Brendon loved the man dearly, but also for his own sake. He wasn’t ready for the title.

  Brendon let the old footman take his coat and hat, and raked his fingers through his already dishevelled hair.

  He had been wondering what to do with the rest of his day when the message arrived as he breakfasted at Lord Delemere’s gun club. Leaving his sausages and eggs uneaten, he had simply leapt to his feet, grabbed his coat from the club’s head butler’s outstretched hand, and raced out into the street where Ivan, the doorman, already held his horse.

  Now Brendon looked down at the old servant from his far superior height.

  “How in God’s name did he end up fighting a duel, Thomas? And how is this the first I have heard of it? Who were his seconds? Did no one think to send me a message last night when the challenge was issued? This might have been avoided.”

  Thomas shrank back a pace.

  “Nothing was said to us last night. Your father left the house before dawn this morning with only his driver and valet for company. I’m afraid that you will have to ask questions of your father and Stevens. I know no more.” The man coughed again. “I wouldn’t dawdle, Master Brendon. Your mother was in some despair when his Lordship arrived home.”

  Sweating and almost sick with apprehension, Brendon gave a quick nod and ran up the wide oak staircase, taking the treads two at a time. The soft sound of weeping hit his ears almost immediately he reached the head of the stairs, and he didn’t delay any further. A brief knock was all he gave before turning the handle of his parent’s bedroom door.

  Subdued lighting from drawn curtains had him blinking furiously until his eyes became used to dark. A low fire burned in the grate and the smell of raw alcohol caught in his throat. The sound of rustling silk accompanied the movement of the shape sitting beside his father’s huge bed.

  “Mother?” His whisper came out more of a croak as he approached the shaking figure. “I came as soon as I had word. What has happened? Who has done this? Is he even alive?” He placed a gentle hand on his mother’s shoulder as the questions tumbled from his lips.

  She looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes.

  “He is still alive. The shot passed through his shoulder. Doctor Ainsworth assures me that he will recover so long as no infection sets in.”

  Brendon cast his eyes towards another of the shapes in the room. Ainsworth stepped forward nearer the candle light.

  “It was a clean wound, my Lord. Missed everything essential, thank heavens. Couldn’t even find a chip of bone. I’ve cleaned the site and dressed the wound. So long as he rests well and we keep it infection free there shouldn’t be any further trouble. I’ve left some laudanum, but I advise using it sparingly. Addiction is easy and weaning off it difficult. Only let him take a minimal amount if he is in severe pain. It’s likely he is going to be out of action for some weeks.”

  Brendon drew in a long breath, shock only just beginning to be replaced by anger.

  “God damn it! I want to know how this happened, and who the culprit was. I’ll have his head on a platter and his entrails served to the pigs! Where is Stevens? I will speak to him instantly as he is involved in all of this.” He turned his head to look about the room. His vision had improved in the few minutes he had been there and he spied his father’s valet standing nervously at the other side of the bed. “You had best come with me and explain everything you know before I kick you out on your ear!”

  Silk skirts rustling, his mother suddenly stood and took hold of his arm. Her grip was surprisingly strong and Brendon looked down immediately. She spoke gently but firmly.

  “Calm yourself. You cannot take this out on Stevens. He merely followed your father’s orders. He was as surprised as any of us when your father insisted on taking the carriage out this morning.”

  Stevens stepped around the end of the bed and took over telling the tale.

  “He had not slept well and told me that he needed some air. I will regret it to my dying day, but he insisted I remained in the carriage while he took a stroll off the usual path. I might have disobeyed him, but it was early and he had woken me from a deep sleep. I thought he just needed some air so I wrapped the blanket about myself and closed my eyes again.” The man shuffled nervously. “I didn’t follow him until two shots suddenly rang out and woke me from my doze. I leapt from the carriage at the same moment Bilton jumped from his driver’s seat and we both ran in the direction your father had taken. We discovered him lying on the ground in a clearing just the other side of the trees, his shoulder bleeding and his pistol still warm from the shot he had fired. Although there were plenty of footprints on the ground no one else was in sight, but we couldn’t delay and take time to follow whoever might have been there. Your father needed our assistance. Bilton went straight for the doctor after we brought his Lordship home.” The man appeared to shake in his boots as he told his tale.

  Brendon fisted his hands as he held on to his temper by a thread.

  “So you have no real idea that this was a duel. He could have been set upon by footpads while out for a morning walk.”

  His mother shook her head and held out a piece of paper. He walked to the curtains and pulled them a fraction, letting in a slither of daylight. His father’s bold handwriting met his gaze.

  My dearest Marianne,

  I hope that you never have to open this letter, however, if you do, please forgive me but I cannot let this insult pass. Know that I have always loved you and that I do this for the sake of our family name. Nothing can deter me from this path so if you are reading this letter before I return, I beg of you not to try and follow me. Do not blame young Barclay for this. It was not his fault. I am sure Stevens will give you all the relevant details on our return.

  Your loving husband,

  Gregory

  Frowning deeply, Brendon looked up.

  “What the hell does he mean? What insult? And what does Algernon have to do with this? Did he do this?” He heard the horror in his own voice and his heart leapt into his mouth as he realized what he was saying when he referred to his best friend and brother in law.

  His mother stiffened noticeably.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Bren. Algernon wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  Brendon raised an eyebrow and decided not to alert her to his friend’s excellent swordsmanship and sharpshooting. He had killed many a man on the battlefields with his outstanding skill, swiftness, and lethal accuracy. But there was no point in disillusioning her as to the man’s ability to hurt someone if he wanted to. He cleared his throat.

  “Regardless of that, He appears to have something to do with the affair. What happened?”

  His mother dabbed her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief and Brendon recognized the family crest and his father’s initials woven into the cotton. Lady Spencer tucked the square of material into her pocket.

  “I have no idea. We were at Lady Frances’ last night. I heard nothing untoward. It wasn’t a large gathering, but we danced twice before he went off with Algernon to play cards. Your father brought me news of Felicity later in the evening and he seemed perfectly happy.”

  Brendon glanced at his sleeping fa
ther. The light showed the steady rise and fall of the man’s chest and Brendon relaxed a little.

  “Algernon was there last night? He didn’t tell me that he and Felicity were coming to town. And why wasn’t I invited to this party?” He wasn’t sure if he should be insulted, it wasn’t as if he enjoyed that kind of event. He preferred meeting his friends at his club.

  An idea came to him. Perhaps his non-invitation was the offence his father had taken, but he couldn’t see it somehow. Being left off a guest list was hardly the worst crime, especially as he had deliberately ignored the invites to several of Lady Frances’ previous soirées. There were always too many hopeful mothers with their unmarried daughters in attendance. Spending an evening fending off their advances never held any appeal. He wasn’t interested in being led into a parson’s noose any time soon.

  Lady Spencer produced an indignant sniff that had nothing to do with her previous tears.

  “You weren’t invited because you never show up anymore. Frances felt insulted by your lack of appearance on other occasions and decided not to risk the embarrassment of making excuses for your appalling manners to the ladies present. Personally I don’t blame her. But that is beside the point. Felicity hasn’t returned to town with Algernon. She has remained at Sommersford as she is in no state to travel at the moment. Algernon’s sister Sophia attended with him. She danced with Lady Frances’ son Lucas, and we spoke later. Algernon has come to collect his sister. Apparently Sophia is going to stay at Sommersford during the latter part of Felicity’s confinement. They only went to the event as a last moment decision because Lucas insisted. I think the young man has taken a fancy to our dear Sophia. They danced more than once together and it was remarked upon. Lucas has grown into a fine figure of a man and he has a fortune coming his way. You had best not drag your heels much longer.” She looked at him significantly.

  Brendon rolled his eyes. His mother’s threat was empty. Lucas was a whelp, and kept on short strings by his wealthy parents. Sophia wouldn’t even look at the man, though Brendon did feel slightly troubled.