Page 39 of A Daring Desire

“Well,” Berrycloth said, regaining his composure. “He’s been very good to me, more than good. He saved me. The truth is, I was sent down from Oxford, and on the verge of losing everything. My parents were so angry about my, um… misdemeanour, they disowned me and I… I was desperate.”

“Oh, my dear fellow,” Perry said, his laughter fading at once. “I beg your pardon. I did not mean for you to revisit old memories that must cause you pain.”

“No, no,” Berrycloth said at once, smiling. “Ancient history, and I trust I can have confidence in your discretion.”

Perry held his gaze, his expression grave. “I may appear a frippery fellow, Mr Berrycloth, but I can assure you I am the soul of discretion. Any secret you put in my keeping will remain there always, upon my honour.”

Berrycloth swallowed but did not look away. “Oh,” he said faintly. “Well, that’s… that’s good to know, because I could not discuss my employer’s private affairs else, and the fact is, I do not know what might have become of me if Kilbane had not rescued me. I didn’t have a farthing and was more than a little blue devilled. I did not know which way to turn.”

Perry nodded sympathetically, suspecting this was a very large understatement.

“Lord Kilbane heard about the fix I was in—it caused a bit of a stir at the time, I’m afraid—and he offered me the job, despite knowing I had very little experience and was hardly fit for it, but he said I’d figure it out as I went, and so I did. I made more than a few expensive mistakes on the way, mind.”

“Lord, and did he rake you down for it?” Perry asked.

Berrycloth smiled. “No. That’s not the kind of thing he gets angry about. He’s very forgiving of human nature. Indeed, he seems to expect the worst of people, I think. I’ve seen people treat him abominably at times. He always shrugs it off and seems to believe it’s no more than he expected or deserved, rather than blaming them for it. He rarely trusts anyone, though, and so if you can prove yourself to him, he’s surprised and pleased.”

“He sounds lonely,” Perry said, frowning over this description of the marquess.

Berrycloth nodded. “Increasingly so, I think, and I suspect he realised too late just what he had in his wife. He never believed she really cared for him, you know. My lord said she was an innocent child who had fallen into believing she had a tendre for him. He always insisted she would come to her senses. I think it is only now that he realises the value of what slipped through his fingers.”

“So, what’s he doing about it?” Perry demanded crossly, though reassured to hear Kilbane’s estimation of his wife as having been an innocent child when he’d married her. Perhaps he had not been purposely cruel in abandoning her as he had.

“Drinking, mostly,” Berrycloth said with a sigh. “He knows he can’t get near her at Dern Palace, you see. Montagu would likely shoot him on sight.”

“Ah.” Perry nodded, understanding dawning. “Can’t blame him for that, I suppose. Terrifying fellow, Montagu. You ever met him?”

Berrycloth shook his head.

Perry let out a slow breath. “He’s a handsome devil even now, striking. Puts most of us young fellows in the shade, but those eyes….” He shivered. “Wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of him, I reckon. Especially where his daughter is concerned.”

“When does she come to town next?”

“Oh, for Lady St Clair’s ball, I should think. The countess always gives one in January, for she says it’s a sadly flat month otherwise.”

Berrycloth frowned. “I don’t think I have received an invitation for Lord Kilbane.”

“Well, no,” Perry said. “Lady St Clair no doubt knows Cat is at Dern. She’ll have sent it there, but surely, she’ll have made it to Lord and Lady Kilbane?”

“Yes!” Berrycloth said, brightening. “Of course she would have. Then that is where he must begin.”

“Begin?”

“To woo her, of course!”

Perry grinned at him, one eyebrow lifting. “Mr Berrycloth, I do believe you are a romantic.”

Berrycloth put up his chin, his eyes glinting a little. “As it happens, I am,” he retorted. “But now we must see if Lord Kilbane has a romantic bone in his body.”

“Ugh, beard the lion in his den,” Perry said, his spirits plummeting. “I suppose I must, but I don’t look forward to it.”

“Me either. Indeed, I wish— Damn me. What a fool I am. I should have thought before now, but what with everything, and… Oh, you idiot, Berrycloth!”

Perry looked at him, bewildered. “Whatever is the matter, old man?”

“Nothing,” Berrycloth said with a grin. “I just don’t have the sense I was born with. I know just who we should get to speak with him.”

“Who?”