“You were wonderful.” And he kissed her again, this time lightly on the cheek.
There was nothing sensual in the second kiss. It was rather the same as a greeting or farewell kiss she exchanged with each of her siblings or her parents when they arrived or departed. This second kiss was as ordinary as any she’d ever received, and he gave it as if he had every right to exchange such intimacy.
She smiled as she fought the euphoric bubbles that sputtered in her breast.
“I didn’t know it would be like this.”
“Hitting a ball with such freedom? Or the kiss?”
There was a glimmer in his eyes. He was teasing her. Wasn’t he?
She opened her mouth to answer but he placed his finger across her lips to stop her.
“Don’t say anything. I prefer to think it was my kiss.”
She smiled and looked down at the narrow space between them.
“Would you like to practice hitting the ball again?”
“Oh, yes. I’d like to see if I can hit the next one over by that tree. Do you think that’s too far?”
“For you, my dear, nothing is
too
far, or
too
high, or
too
anything.”
She smiled up at him as something warm and soothing wrapped around her heart.
He stepped behind her and anchored his hands around her waist. “Take your stance,” he instructed. “Point your left shoulder to the spot where you want your ball to go.”
She did just that.
“Let me know when you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” she said when she was in position, then hit the ball.
This second time was ever so much easier. She wasn’t nearly as timid or as apprehensive.
Trust me,
he’d told her. And she did. More than she had ever trusted anyone in a long, long time. At least since the accident, she thought with a growing sense of hopefulness. And it was a good feeling.
She hit the next ball with a hearty swing and nearly squealed with delight when it went even farther than she thought it would. The next one went even farther and the one after that was nearly perfect.
“All right, Miss Show-off. It’s time you had some competition.”
“Are you challenging me?”
“Be assured I am.”
She looked him in the eyes and laughed. “Very well, sir, but be warned. I don’t intend to let you win.”
“Nor do I intend to let you best me, either.”
“And to show you what a sporting person I am,” she said taking her cane from his arm and leaning against it, “I’ll let you go first.”
He looked shocked. “I wouldn’t dream of going first. I will give you no reason to accuse me of taking advantage. You, my dear, will hit your ball first. And that,” he said, tapping her gently on the tip of her nose, “will be the only time you are in the lead.”
She gave him a toss of her head and got into position. When she was ready, she gave him the signal to hold her. After his hands were firmly anchored at her waist, she pulled her mallet back and swung.
It wasn’t important that she win. It was enough for her to hold her own against him. Or maybe it was enough simply being with him.
He’d shown her how it felt to be courted by someone who considered her the same as any other woman. He made her feel young, and desirable, and...whole.
She would always be grateful to him for that.
Brent escorted Elly to the terrace and seated her before he collapsed into the chair next to her. He couldn’t remember enjoying himself so much. And it was all because of her.
“You cheated, you know,” she said, taking a tall glass of lemonade a servant rushed out to serve them.
Brent took several swallows of the cool liquid then set his glass onto the table. “I did not cheat. I’ve already explained, a very large, fierce-looking insect landed on my arm just as you were making your last hit. I jerked my hand to prevent it from taking a huge bite out of my tender skin.”
“You ruined my shot on purpose. Admit it.”
“I’ll admit nothing of the sort.” He took another drink from his glass. “Do you think I would resort to such an underhanded and deceitful trick as tickling you just to prevent you from winning?”
“I do,” she said looking at him through narrowed eyes. “I think that’s exactly what you did.”
“I’m wounded.” He clutched his hand to his heart. He tried to look severely insulted but from the expression on her face she made it plain she was having none of it. He couldn’t help it. The look on her face made him laugh.
She paused with her glass midway to her lips.
“What?” There was a look of wonderment in her expression that confused him.
“Your laugh. It was different.”
“Different? How?”
She cocked her head to the side and studied him. “You laugh often, but the way you laughed just now was different somehow. More sincere, perhaps. As if this laugh was real.”
“Was it?”
“Yes.”
He sat back. How could he explain that everything he did and felt when he was with her was real? How could he make her understand that for the first time in his life he was alive with happiness?
He studied her. He’d spent all afternoon with her, but he realized it hadn’t been long enough.
“Do you know what I think?” She looked at him as if he were a puzzle to be decoded.
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“I think you should be on stage.”
“You think I’m acting?”
She held his gaze another few seconds and the longer she looked at him the more he was convinced she could see through him. No, not
through
, but
into
, him. And for the first time in his life he truly wanted someone to see the
real
Brentan Montgomery.
“I think you are adept at putting on an excellent front, one you’ve perfected over the years. What I’m trying to decide is who is the real you, the man you are when you’re in London or the man you are when you’re away from the prying eyes of the ton and the snatching claws of the matchmaking mamas.”
Brent couldn’t help but laugh again. “Which one do you think?”
“I’m hoping it’s the one you are here. I’d hate to think I’d become fond of a fraud.”
He couldn’t think of one thing to say to that. A part of him wanted to assure her that she hadn’t, that the man she’d met here was the real Brentan Montgomery. That the rogue and rake he was reported to be wasn’t who he was at all, but who he’d become to keep from being caught by one of those matchmaking mamas she’d mentioned.
“I can’t believe you’ve never married.”
Her statement caught him off guard. Even though he’d been repeatedly asked, he’d never believed the questioner was interested in why he’d avoided marriage. Until now.
He crossed his right ankle over his left knee and took another long swallow of his lemonade, wishing the liquid were something stronger.
“If you could describe marriage in just one word,” he said, keeping his gaze focused on her face, “what would it be?”
“Oh, I’m not sure I could find just one.” She wore a truly puzzled look.
“Then two. Or even three.”
“Well, there would be love. And, of course, trust. And above all, friendship.”
“Do you know what word I would use?”
“You could describe marriage in just one word?” she said with a smile on her face.
“Very well, two. At the top of my list would of course be hatred. Then, very close behind that would be bitterness. And the third would be—“
He stopped. The smile left her face and there was a look of pity in her eyes. Bloody hell, but he couldn’t stand for her to pity him.
“Were your parents never kind to each other?”
He answered her in his most flippant manner. “They must have been at least twice. I have a brother, you know. Unless my father was also guilty of committing rape.”
Her gaze lowered to her hands in her lap and her cheeks turned a brilliant scarlet.
“I apologize, my lady.” He bolted from his chair and stepped to the cement railing. “I had no right to speak to you in that manner.”
“Does your brother feel the same?”
“He remembers our parents the same as I, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Yet, he fell in love and married. Or did he not fall in love, but just married?”
“Yes, Michael fell in love. Head over ears in love, if the truth be told. To a wonderful girl, who has given him a houseful of children.”
He turned back to her and smiled. “Which gives me an excellent reason to remain single. Michael has already done his duty to provide the future Earl of Charfield.”
“You do not want children of your own?”
“I haven’t given it much thought. Children aren’t important to me.”
He turned before she recognized his words for the lies they were. Every time he went to visit Michael, he couldn’t help but wonder what his own children might look like. Or how many sons and how many daughters he would be blessed with. But never had there been a woman in his dreams. Never once had there been a mother to his children.
Perhaps that was because he and Michael had never had a mother. Not really. Not in the way Elly and Fellingsdown and George and Jules and the rest of the Prescott siblings had parents who loved them. And loved each other.
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Have you?” he asked turning her words on her.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I am still searching for the man of my dreams.”
She looked up at him. “Do you ever dream of finding your perfect woman?”
He laughed. “That particular dream was shattered long ago.”
How could he tell her that was one dream he wouldn’t allow himself to have. Or, as impossible as it seemed, that he hadn’t met even one female in his lifetime with whom he would consider risking his future.
Until now.
That thought pulled him up short. Could he actually be considering a future with her? Was it possible for him to dare to dream that he’d found someone with whom he could share his life?
There were so many questions he wanted to ask her, so much he wanted to find out, but now wasn’t the time. It was too soon. Besides, the guests were returning from their trip to town and the special afternoon he and Elly had spent alone together was at an end. Brent stood as Elly’s siblings and their female guests gathered around them.
“Oh, Elly,” Amelia Hastings, cried out as she came across the terrace. “You should have gone with us. Mr. Devon’s shop is a marvel.”
“Yes, Amelia can say that,” Jules teased, placing his hand beneath her elbow in what Brent noticed was a very possessive, intimate manner. “Devon’s going to have to spend all of the next six months restocking his inventory.”
“I only purchased two pieces. Nearly everyone else came back with more than that. And Brianna purchased the most exquisite crystal bowl. If Mr. Devon would have had another like it, I would not have been able to resist.”
“I’m sure Archibald can have another done before—”
Brent nearly laughed out loud when a panicked expression covered Jules Prescott’s face and he frantically motioned for Elly not to say more.
“Before when?” Amelia asked with a glimmer in her eyes.
“I’m sure he can have another bowl done by this time next year,” Elly finished.
“That long?” she said, the disappointment obvious in her voice.
“Perhaps we will have another summer gathering next year,” Jules said, “and you can visit Mr. Devon’s Crystal Shop again. I’m sure he’ll have another by then. Plus even more of his creations.”
“Wonderful.” She gave Jules an endearing expression. “I’ll save all my pin money until I come again.”
Brent scanned the terrace. Each of Elly’s brothers seemed exceedingly fond of the female they’d asked to have invited. All except the marquess.
Fellingsdown stood a short distance from them, talking with Viscount Parkridge and the Earl of Berkingham, his two brothers-in-law. Brent had no idea what the three men were talking about but it apparently wasn’t interesting enough to hold Fellingsdown’s attention because his gaze kept gravitating to the other side of the terrace, where Lady Lathamton stood talking to Elly’s two aunts. From the twinkles in both aunts’ eyes, Brent couldn’t help but wonder if Fellingsdown or Lady Lathamton realized the matchmaking scheme the two women were hatching.
He doubted it.
As if suddenly aware that he’d been the focus of Brent’s thoughts, Fellingsdown took that moment to glance in his direction. Fellingsdown excused himself from his discussion with his brothers-in-law and came toward him.
“We missed you on the tour of our town,” Fellingsdown said, stopping far enough away from Elly that Brent was forced to step several feet to converse with him. Their spot on the terrace left them quite isolated, which he was sure was what Fellingsdown intended.
Brent smiled. “When I realized your sister had elected to remain behind, I decided to return to keep her company.”
“I see,” Fellingsdown answered, then walked to the far edge of the terrace and down the three stone steps that led to a small side garden. Brent had no choice but to follow him.
Fellingsdown stopped when they were far enough from the rest of the group to keep from being overheard. “You’ve done an admirable job of fulfilling your obligation, Charfield. I applaud your ability to become such good...friends in such a short time.“
“You didn’t think it was possible for your sister to consider me a friend?”
“I wasn’t worried that she wouldn’t consider you a friend. Nor you, her. Anyone who’s ever taken the time to know her is aware it’s hard not to like her and consider her a friend shortly upon meeting.”
“Then what exactly is your concern?”
“Our purpose in inviting you—“
“Our?” Brent asked, feeling that he’d been the target of a scheme much larger than he’d anticipated.
“George knows of our agreement. And Jules and Spence, of course.”
Brent felt a niggling of something he didn’t quite understand. “Of course,” he answered, and from the lift of Fellingsdown’s right brow, he knew his sarcasm hadn’t been lost on Elly’s brother. “And what about your sisters, the twins? Do they know why I’m here, too?”
“They’re the reason this gathering was necessary in the first place.”
Brent clasped his hands behind his back and turned to look out onto the colorful garden. Elly’s summerhouse was out there, to the right of this path. He remembered the time they’d spent there two afternoons ago. Then their visit again after dusk last night.
Brent hadn’t thought any of Elly’s brothers were aware of their escape from the planned evening of board games and musical entertainment. Now he wasn’t so sure.
“What is your concern?” Brent asked, turning to face Fellingsdown.
“Our agreement was that you would partner Elly enough for her to forget an admirer we all considered inadequate for her.”
“And you don’t think I’ve lived up to my end of the agreement?”
“I think you’ve
more
than lived up to your part. In fact, I’m not sure she’s given her secret admirer a second thought since meeting you.”
“Then I’m not sure why you object. Isn’t that what you intended me to do?”
Fellingsdown cleared his voice. “What I didn’t intend... what
none
of us intended, was for you to take Elly’s admirer’s place.”
Brent arched his brows. “And if I have? You would object?”
“You forget. I know your reputation. According to the bargain that brought you here, when these two weeks are over you will leave The Down with far more than when you arrived. What I don’t intend is for you to leave my sister behind with a broken heart.”
Brent felt his temper rising. “I have no intention of that happening.”
“See that it doesn’t.” Fellingsdown gave a curt nod then took a step toward the terrace where the guests were still discussing their trip to the village and the purchases they’d made.
Brent watched Elly’s brother walk away. He was more confused than he’d ever been in his life. And more frustrated. He hadn’t handled the exchange with Fellingsdown at all well. This had been the perfect opportunity to explain his feelings for Elly. Except...