“This time, as I depart these great shores once more, in what will be, forevermore, I mourn to leave an angel such as the lady before us. She walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes…”
Lord Byron favored Fleur with a long, wistful, last glance. He left Lord and Lady Chilton’s library with the same sovereign elegance with which he had entered.
After the Baron and Baroness Chilton’s auction, gossip did what gossip did—it spread through all of England like wildfire.
From parlors to promenades. To White’s, Brooke’s, Forbidden Pleasures, Devil’s Den, and the rest of the wicked hells. It was all anyone spoke of.
Lord Byron’s brief return to England where he had anointed her.
And…the Duke of Hartwell’s heartlessness.
Duke of H Bullies Lord Byron’s Beauty.
Then, the impossible happened.
A McQuoid lass became…a Diamond.
Chapter 5
“Those who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves.”
Lord Byron
“You cannot possibly believe my idea is bad, Hart.”
Hart stretched back in his seat and steepled his fingertips at his chest. From across the surface of the ducal desk, he wryly considered the one who had spoken that understatement. That was the conclusion his brother had reached? His passionate brother couldn’t be more wrong.
“Love has ruined you, little brother.”
“This isn’t about love!” Tremaine exploded.
Hart arched an eyebrow.
“Both can be true: I’m doing this for my wife whom I love and it is a bloody good idea!” Tremaine, too hot-headed to wait for Hart’s cynical response, turned to the tall figure standing off to the side, by the windows, who had remained silent throughout.
“Kilmartin,” Tremaine said to their partner, a man cold as ice on the inside and all affability on the outside. “Will you tell Hart I’m being the logical one here?”
Wisely, Lord Kilmartin lifted his palms, as was all three men’s way when neglecting to become involved.
The gentleman knew better. Though Tremaine’s quartermaster, Kilmartin, when not on a mission, alternated in the role of Hart’s man-of-affairs. Unbeknownst to Hart’s brother, Kilmartin’s very role in his life was Hart’s doing. He’d inserted the nobleman into Tremaine’s life when they were but youths and handpicked him as Tremaine’s quartermaster before Hart had even known he would need a quartermaster.
The finger Tremaine lifted at his quartermaster only earned grins from Kilmartin and Hart.
Ruddy color splashed across his volatile brother’s cheeks. “Your schedule is too busy for you to clear at least a few nights for time with my in-laws?”
His in-laws.
An image rose up, as it all too often did, since Chilton’s auction and the scandal that McQuoid chit made of Hart.
“…Lady Fleur, shy of stealing my own book from this selfish fellow, and delivering them to your gentle hands, I cast my regrets and a promise to deliver a smile for you…”
Curse Tremaine’s in-laws.
Hart sat up and got back to the work he and Kilmartin had attended before Tremaine’s arrival.
“I have given enough of my time to that family,” he said, coollydispassionate. “This is what comes of me lowering my standards. If you’ll excuse me, Kilmartin was helping me with a matter.”
His brother outright ignored that order. “Might I remind you, my wife, Linnie, is a member of that family of which you speak so poorly.”