Regency 09 - Redemption (2 page)

He thought of approaching
them but he was held back by one of the captains employed by his
cousin. “I say, Mr. Dare, are you off to see Sir Adam?”

Dare turned to the burly
man and replied, “Yes, Captain Blake, as a matter of fact I am. He
stands just over yonder.” Dare tipped his head toward the little
group. “Was there something you’d like me to make known to
him?”

“Let him
know the
Bonny Mae
went down. I just received word this
minute.”

Dare stood very still. It
was the third ship they’d lost in twice as many months. Adam’s
shipping business couldn’t stand much more loss. “Are you
sure?”

“Sure as I’m standin’ here,
Mr. Dare.”

“Any survivors?”

The captain shook his head
sadly. “Nay, lad, none. The ship disappeared, too, just like the
others.”

Dare shook his head. It was
a mystery he thought might never be solved. “Who imparted the
message to you, Captain Blake?”

“It was young Jimmy Smith.
His papa sails for that there Lord Penryn.”

Dare gazed at the ruddy
captain thoughtfully. He had heard of Lord Penryn before. The man
was an enigma and never strayed far from his home in Cornwall. He
also happened to be Adam’s biggest shipping rival.

“Very well. I’ll let my
cousin know.” He turned to walk away but the captain stopped him
again.

“When is he goin’ to make
you a cap’n, young man?” Captain Blake asked kindly.

“That, my dear captain, is very
much up to Sir Adam,” replied Dare. He saluted the captain in a
mocking gesture and walked away.

He was not altogether
surprised when he observed Adam heading in his direction, his
companions following close behind. He stopped and waited for
them.

Holding out his hand in
greeting, he said, “Adam, well met. I need to speak with
you.”

Adam smiled in greeting,
shaking his hand. His oddly colored gray-green eyes glinted with a
warning that Dare couldn’t begin to understand.

Then he glanced at the
woman—a lady to judge by her garb—and the young man and wondered if
his cousin was aiding an elopement. He returned his gaze to Adam,
one black brow lifted in faintly mocking inquiry.

Adam ushered him to one
side, neglecting to introduce him to the couple. “Dare, I need a
favor.”

Dare held
up a hand. “First, let me impart my information. Captain Blake
informed me that the
Bonny Mae
went down.”

Adam’s brow furrowed. “How
many is that now?”

“Three in six
months.”

“Damn. Is there any clue as
to what is happening to them?”

“Every
man has been lost and the ships seem to disappear from the face of
the earth. It appears to be true of the
Bonny Mae
as well. I will look into
the matter at great length when I get the chance of
it.”

“Good man.” Adam looked back at his
companions uneasily. “I have another favor to ask of
you.”

Dare listened with growing
disbelief as Adam explained the situation in which he found
himself. As soon as Adam finished, he said, “You must be jesting!
You want me to squire a passel of females around during the Season?
Have you lost your mind? What do I know of Society? I haven’t
attended the Season in…well, ever. I can’t possibly—”

“Miles has, dammit, and he
will be there too. Please just do as I ask and leave me to get this
latest problem out of my hair.”

Dare reluctantly agreed and
watched his cousin walk away. He swore under his breath and headed
into the town.

Miles watched Lady Brianna
Prestwich pace much in the same way her cousin, the Earl of
Greville, was wont to do. Lady Bri only did so when she was
particularly disturbed, however. Lord Greville had a tendency to do
it all the time.

“My lady, I wish you would
stop and tell me what I am to do. I cannot read your mind and
although I have been here for all of fifteen minutes, you have yet
to tell me why. I do not want to sound rude but I have several
things to accomplish for Adam.”

Bri stopped pacing, giving
her husband’s cousin a look of disgust. She had ever had little
patience for strictly organized people and Miles Prestwich was one
of the worst.

“You can oblige me for a
minute or two, Miles. I’m sure whatever it is Adam has set for you
can wait.”

She started moving again
and Miles feared he might develop a headache to match the crick
that was swiftly developing in his neck.

She threw
him an annoyed glare. “And I told you to call me Bri. Do I have to
make Adam order you to make use of the god…
blasted
name?”

Miles allowed a tiny smile to play
about his lips. He was positive Lady Prestwich cleaned up her
language out of deference to him. She did make life very
interesting, to be sure.

“Here is my problem,
Miles,” Bri said finally, stopping again to stare at him steadily.
“Adam has gone out of town to take care of some things and it is
left up to Rory and I to scotch a few rumors that seem to have
crept up on us when we weren’t looking. We need you to squire us to
balls and parties so we can gossip.”

“What of Lord
Greville?”

“He went with Adam.” Bri
favored him with a look that implied he should have known
that.

Perhaps he should have.
“Very well,” responded Miles. He really did not want to but perhaps
he would see a certain lady again by traveling in the same circles
as her.

“Thank you, Miles,” Lady
Prestwich said with an unusually hefty dose of sickeningly sweet
charm. “You may go now.”

Miles bowed and departed.
He closed the drawing room doors behind him and returned to the
study at the back of the mansion.

He sat down at the large
mahogany desk and started sorting through the papers lying there.
After several minutes of pointless shuffling, he realized what he
was doing and stopped. He had no time to daydream about a pair of
heavenly blue eyes, a pert nose, and soft blond curls.

Dare was admitted into
Lockwood House in Berkeley Square without much fuss and ushered
into the drawing room. The butler, West, announced him and he was
faced with his cousin’s wife for the first time. He thought she was
beautiful, of course, with her deep red hair and emerald green
eyes, but there was something in her expression, in her bearing,
perhaps even the look in her eyes that made him very thankful she
was Adam’s wife and not his own.

“Lady Prestwich, it is a
pleasure to finally meet you,” he said with an elegant
bow.

She said nothing for a
moment, her eyes sweeping his form in quite the rudest manner he’d
ever experienced. Not a hint of embarrassment marred her beautiful
features when she once again settled her gaze on his face. She
stared for several moments, her eyes narrowing. Then, “It’s your
eyes.”

“Excuse me?” he inquired,
wondering if perhaps he’d missed something vitally
important.

“Your eyes. Miles’s are not
as dark a blue as yours. Lovely. I shall have no trouble telling
you apart even if you cut your hair and style it just like his.”
She gestured to a chair. “Please sit. We should get
acquainted.”

Dare glanced ruefully at
his travel-stained clothing. “Perhaps after I’ve had time to
refresh myself, my lady.”

“Now
don’t you go starting that, too. I have just this moment told your
brother to stop calling me that and I will tell you the same thing.
I have a name. It is Brianna. I would appreciate it if you would
call me Bri.
Lady
Prestwich
,
Lady
Rothsmere
, and
my
lady
are just so stuffy, do you not
think?”

“Indeed, Bri,” he replied
with a charming smile. “I will endeavor to remember. In the
meantime, you must call me Dare. I will answer to nothing
else.”

Bri smiled, her striking
beauty almost blinding. “Wonderful. I can tell we will get along
famously.” With that, she dismissed him to clean up.

Dare was led to a handsome
apartment on the third floor, one of many suites reserved for
family use. He appreciated the rather masculine furnishings and was
pleased to note the water closet that was just off one end of the
dressing room. It had been quite some time since he’d visited
Lockwood House and he was impressed with Adam’s
improvements.

He made use of the wash
room and changed into fresh clothes, pulling on worn but
comfortable doeskin breeches, a loose linen shirt, and a jacket of
navy blue. He left his shirt open at the neck and tied a simple
belcher neckerchief around his tanned throat.

As he left his rooms, he
hoped Bri would not mind his casual attire. He was not about to
dress in the restricting clothing demanded by Society until he
absolutely had to—and even then he would balk at every restraining
article.

He knew he would have to
find a valet soon, as well, and he really didn’t care one. He had
become used to having his privacy and it was something he now
closely guarded.

Instead of returning to the
drawing room on the first floor, Dare decided to do a little
exploring. He eased his way past the open doors of the room
containing Bri and hurried down the rest of the stairs. He supposed
Miles was about somewhere and if he knew his twin at all, he was
willing to bet he was in the study poring over
paperwork.

Dare shuddered. He hated
paperwork. In fact, he could barely read and that suited him just
fine. He had no use for books or newspapers and less use for
writing.

Miles, on the other hand,
had a flair for making sense of chaotic offices, studies, and
libraries and simply thrived on literature. He usually had his nose
in some book or other or his hands in papers that made no sense to
anyone sane. Another shudder snaked through Dare’s body at the mere
thought of organizing anything.

Making another turn, Dare
faced a closed door. He was willing to bet he faced the study, as
it was furthest from the noise of the street and house traffic. He
pushed it open and walked in.

Miles looked up with a
guilty flush, thinking it was Bri who had caught him daydreaming.
He frowned when he saw his wandering twin.

Dare grinned, his face
appearing even more handsome than normal. “Please, Miles, your
excitement over seeing me again after all these years is unbecoming
in a man. Restrain yourself.” He crossed his arms over his chest
and advanced into the room, gazing about in interest.

Miles frowned even more
heavily at his brother’s levity but remained silent for the moment.
Then he noticed Dare’s choice of garb. “What the devil are you
wearing?”

Dare looked down with an
expression of feigned wonder on his face. “Oh, dear Father in
heaven! I’m wearing clothes! I left my room naked. Where did these
come from?” He pulled at his shirt, making it billow out away from
his muscular chest. His look of bafflement was something to
behold.

Miles almost smiled at
Dare’s playacting, reminded of many childhood escapades. Instead,
he gave him a stern look. “You are dressed far too casual for
London and our cousin’s home, Dare. What if someone calls on Bri
and sees you dressed like that? You could ruin all of our social
cache in just one sitting.”