“You must take care, my lord. Carry your sword or pistol.”
“Hmm, but I more worry about Tamsyn.” He puckered his brow at Miggens in the mirror. “If I’m not with her, I want you to keep an eye out. And that Sewell’s a bloody strange chap, as well, always peering at people. Keep your other eye on him. He seemed disappointed I could swim. Did you see anyone else on the beach not of our party?”
“I… No, not really.”
Jack scrutinised his half-brother’s reflection, watched his cheekbones ripen to a mottled red. “Were you…trysting?” Jack gasped. “Without consulting me for advice?”
“No! Simply conversing with Miss Treherne.” He coughed and faffed with the cufflinks, a sure sign of dissembling.
“Has your tackle fallen off yet from all thisconversing?”
Oh, the delight he could extract from this. If only he’d done more meddling in his half-brother’s romance, then he could claim wedding number five. Thus far, all he’d been able to interfere with was insisting on his valet’s presence at the day’s events.
Miggens glared. “I would never…” He shook his head at Jack’s wink and grabbed the clothes brush. “Never have I met such a kind and devoted lady. I used to watch Miss Treherne at her cousin’s, working her fingers to the bone embroidering dog cushions for the countess who would then unstitch the whole lot for being crooked. She was their unpaid slave and deserved better.”
“As did you, Oliver, which is why I sought you out. But is there more to this?”
“No. Because she is too good for one such as I,” his half-sibling muttered. “She’s a lady. And I am a bastar–”
“You are a marquess’s son…and I prefer the term merry-begotten to bastard.”
“I doubt my mother considered it merry. And although half my parentage may be of noble blood, my mother milked cows.”
“You’re talking twaddle, Oli. And if Miss Treherne did happen to take umbrage at your conception, then she doesn’t deserve such a fine man. You should tel–”
“Don’t you dare tell Miss Treherne of our kinship, my lord, promise me.” Oliver scrunched his Winterbourne nose. “You are the marquess with a fat purse. I have nothing to offer a lady.”
“Pfff, that estate in Somerset still needs an owner,” Jack cajoled. “It’s unentailed, just sitting there, neglected. Weeds growing. Lands unploughed. Servants bored. If you don’t claim it, we’ll have rebellion in the West Country.”
A mulish expression contorted his brother’s physog. “I do not require a Winterbourne’s charity.”
Lud, save him from principled and stubborn valets.
Jack slipped the signet ring onto his little finger, all prepared for dinner. But there was something he kept meaning to say to Oliver and his near death had reminded him that life could too easily be snatched away, leaving words unsaid for eternity.
“Oliver, you are my brother.”
Fusty eyebrows raised. “I am aware of that, my lord.”
“No, I mean, more than simply blood. I look to you for advice and guidance. I admire your values and character. Your dairymaid mother brought up a calm intelligent man who has climbed in life through his own sheer hard work and strength.” Jack twisted the ruby ring about his finger. “I wish you’d known Vincent as you are similar in nature, loyal and considerate.” He paused, saw a brightness to Oli’s eyes. “And I could not do without you. Soyoutake care, as well, my brother.”
A smile softened his solemn lips. “Don’t you worry about me, Jack.” He tugged his own waistcoat straight. “And do you know, we are not so different as you seem to think.”
“Faugh, night and day. But you being my brother also means I’m obliged to interfere in your romantic affairs.”
Oliver picked a lint from Jack’s sapphire velvet lapel. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way…my lord.”
∞∞∞
“So, Lowdy…”
“I wish I could eat double helpings of bread and butter pudding, but I’d end up resembling one.”
“You know very well that all the men here pant over your figure. Now, Lowdy…”
“I need a new corset. The laces tore last night and I suspect cook’s cake was to blame – that layer of marchpane is too thick.”
Tamsyn narrowed her eyes. Thus far, Lowdy had babbled on about every pudding known to woman, avoiding her questions and guzzling the blackberry wine as though there might be a sudden shortage, although with the professor in the house, that was a distinct possibility.
