“A gentleman is here to see you, Mr. Spencer.” Sir Bickford-Crowden’s assistant opened the door and then stepped aside.
“Stone!” The dark-haired man standing in the doorway, slightly taller and stockier, but with the same colored eyes and nearly identical features as his own, was a welcome sight indeed.
Peter set Rosa aside and all but burst across the room to welcome his brother.
“This is what you missed my nuptials for?” Stone slapped him on the back, glancing around the stark room.
“More than a few weeks’ notice would have been helpful.” Not that Peter didn’t feel guilty for not being able to attend, but he hadn’t had much choice. “Don’t tell me you left your newlywed wife in London.”
Stone smiled, a ridiculously lovesick expression Peter couldn’t remember ever seeing on his brother’s face before. “We’re taking a wedding trip. You, little brother, are apparently important enough to have been added to our honeymoon agenda. Tabetha is settling in at the inn this very moment but expects you to join us for dinner later this evening.”
“Tabetha Fitzwilliams.” Peter shook his head. “I still can’t conceive how you pulled that off. What did you do, clobber her over the head and drag her to the nearest anvil priest?”
Stone’s eyes danced. “Something like that. I’ll tell you everything later. But for now…” Stone planted his feet wide. “I’ve heard… interesting things about you and Lady Starling.”
“From whom?” And what could anyone possibly have to say? He’d taken all the necessary steps to keep their meetings private. Not for his sake but for hers.
“Mother. Greys. Mantis. Blackheart.” Stone cleared his throat. “Natalie informed Tabetha that the lovely widow is pining over you. She said it was quite obvious in the time she came to know Lady Starling before the family left for Raven’s Park. Our sister, it seems, has become a dear friend to your paramour.”
Although part of what Stone was saying disturbed him, Peter’s heart all but leapt. Natalie wouldn’t exaggerate or dissemble about something like that. In fact, he’d learned never to dismiss Nat’s opinion on such matters.
But if that was the case, why had Miranda insisted they stop writing one another?
“I’m in love with her.” Peter rubbed a hand down his face. “I asked her to marry me.”
“She is that good, eh?” The corners of Stone’s mouth tipped up even as he held out a defensive hand and stepped back.
“Watch yourself.” Peter stiffened, clenching his fists. Even knowing that a single punch from Stone would knock him out cold, Peter determined that no one would ever disparage Miranda’s reputation again.Especially one of my brothers.
Why the hell should she be disrespected for taking lovers when gentlemen did it all the time with no censure whatsoever? Not that Peter could change that, but he’d be damned if he’d allow it in his hearing.
“My apologies.” His brother was watching him curiously now. “I wondered, but I have to admit that I did not see that coming.”
Damn Stone.
Peter’s shoulders slumped. “She’s refused me—twice now—I think.”
“Refused you? As in marriage?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that was awfully quick.” Stone rubbed his chin. “At the risk of drawing more of your wrath, I asked Chaswick about her.”
“Chase?”Miranda’s former lover? “Why in the hell would you do that?”
“He’s a good friend.” Stone shrugged as though such information provided all the explanation required. “It was notable, he told me, that Lady Starling allowed you to take her driving and shopping. There are even rumors that you took her toGunter’s.”
“What of it?” Peter did not wish to listen to a recitation of the best memories of his life right now. He’d have plenty of time to do that over the course of his long and lonely future.
“Chase admitted, in confidence, might I add, that… over the course of his… association with Lady Starling, she was not inclined to spend time with him… outside of the boudoir.”
Peter knew this. She’d all but demanded the same of him… initially. But he’d forced his way into the other aspects of her life.
“She’s not like that. She may have been before. It’s because she was…” He couldn’t explain it, and talking about her, even to Stone, felt like a betrayal.
“She’s changed since you left London.” Stone shoved his hands in his pockets and pretended to be examining the room’s sparse furnishings. “You are the last gentleman she’s been seen with. Rumor has it, she’s… reformed. A reformedrakess?” He cocked one brow.
“People would do well to pay more heed to their own lives and less attention to things they can’t possibly understand.”
