Page 30 of A Trial of His Affections (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #2)

Chapter Thirty

M iles walked with his head down and his beaver pushed low as he headed toward Red Lion Square. He could scarcely believe Grace had been so understanding about his role in her accidents. Indeed, she’d actually apologized for her reaction. She’d apologized to him . “Maggots,” he ran his hand down his face.

He pushed through the front door and did not even hand off his beaver. Heading straight to his study, he scribbled out a note to Freddie and Fin. After all, it was mostly their fault he was in this muddle.

Your presence is requested demanded immediately at Blackstone’s!!! I’ll leave your name with the porter at the door. You’ll find me in the billiards room with drinks at the ready!

Miles

He gave the missives to Franklin and set out for Blackstone’s. He needed to walk off some of his frustrations…uncertainties…guilt.

Miles reached Blackstone’s and nodded to the porter, “Plockton.”

He bowed. “Mr. Yardley. Welcome back.”

Miles gave a quick flick of his lips. “I shall have two guests joining me, Lord Weymouth and Lord Finsbury. Please direct them to the billiards room when they arrive.”

Plockton nodded. “Very good, sir.”

Miles reared back slightly at the mongoose’s bared teeth but then bared his own back at it. Perhaps it was his mood, or that he’d not been caught unaware, but the animals did not seem to bother him.

Plockton raised his brows but said nothing. Had no one ever growled at the mongoose before? Miles found that notion hard to believe. And he doubted it would be the last time it happened.

He plodded up the stairs, dipping his head to Randolph the goat.

Murmured conversations hummed into the corridor as he passed. Even the reading room had gentlemen clustered together in small groups, talking.

Colonel Halstead looked up as Miles walked past. He lifted his chin in acknowledgement. Miles returned the gesture. He should go speak to the man, but he’d not spoken to him since the funeral. It was not his fault Jules had died. Halstead had not even been with Jules’ regiment then. But the connection—Miles tugged at his collar. He’d speak with him—next time, he vowed.

He stepped into the billiards room, grateful to find it empty. For once the fates must be smiling on him. Perhaps it was because of his confession. Or rather his partial one.

He moved to the corner and yanked on the bellpull before pulling out his pocket watch and snapping it shut with a huff. Where the devil were Fin and Freddie? It’s not as if they walked to the club. In truth, they should have arrived before he did.

Pulling a cue from the rack, he set up the balls on the table. He would simply play by himself until they arrived.

He lined up his shot and pulled back the cue, pushing it forward with more force than he’d meant to. The cue hit the ball close to the tabletop, and it jumped into the air, bouncing several times before falling to the floor. “Zounds,” he stomped over and picked up the ball as a servant appeared.

“You rang, sir?”

Miles stood up slowly, hoping the man had not witnessed the shot. “Yes, could I please get three glasses of brandy?”

The man dipped his head, “Right away, sir.”

Miles didn’t miss the quick flick of his gaze around the room. He likely thought all three were for Miles. Which did not seem like a wholly bad idea. He brushed it off.

Lining up his shot, Miles pulled back the cue but stopped short of hitting the ball when he heard a slight rustling of fabric behind him.

“I don’t appreciate my presence being demanded, although I will forgive you this one time because it got me out of one of Father’s lectures.” Freddie sidled over to the cue stand in the corner and pulled out a stick. “But next time, may we please meet at Brooks’s? This place...” he wrinkled his nose, “smells.”

Miles lifted his head and sniffed. “It’s the combination of tobacco smoke, gentlemen’s cologne, and the animals.” Odd, but he’d not noticed it when he’d entered. “You’ll grow accustomed to it.”

“No, I won’t.” Freddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t plan to be here that long.”

“I suppose I should thank you for condescending to meet me?”

“Gads,” Fin interrupted from the doorway. “I believe that sheep’s eyes at the top of the stairs followed my every move.”

Miles chuckled. “Randolph is a goat. And I don’t believe his eyes move. He is dead, if you’ll recall.”

Fin narrowed his gaze. “We shall have to agree to disagree on that notion.” He looked around the billiards room and nodded to the head and rack of antlers mounted above the sideboard. “And what is his name?”

Miles glanced over. “I’m uncertain he has a name. What does one call a reindeer?”

Fin tapped his finger to his lips. “He looks like a Milton to me.”

Freddie scoffed. “What is wrong with you? You act as if you enjoy this place.” The disdain dripped from his lips.

Fin shrugged. “I will not be withdrawing my membership from Brooks’s, but I’m glad Miles has a club. It’s the right of a gentleman. And this is as diverting as any club I’ve seen.” He grinned at Miles. “What did you think of Blackstone? Eh? A bit touched in the head, is he not?” He looked positively giddy at the notion.

Miles rested his chin on the tip of his cue. “I found him very agreeable. He might be a bit eccentric, but that is hardly uncommon for a gentleman of his age.”

“But what of all the animals?” Freddie cringed. “It’s unnatural.”

Miles grinned. “He’s rather convinced that they all died a natural death—which seems highly unlikely.”

“Did you not see the markings on Randolph?” Fin asked. “They tried to disguise it, but if you look closely—while trying to see if his gaze follows you—you can see the mark right between his eyes.”

Miles nodded. “I decided it was best not to argue the point. But if you’d like, I’ll show you the gallery.” He took his position at the table but paused and glanced over his shoulder at Freddie. Waggling his brows, he pulled back the cue and thrust it forward, striking the ball. “I’m certain you’ll love it.” While tempted, Miles decided not to mention that Freddie’s association had been the only thing to give Blackstone pause. It was best not to give him more reasons to dislike the place.

“Now that we have discussed your questionable choice in clubs,” Freddie leaned over to take his shot, “why did you demand my presence?” He glanced over to Fin. “Did he demand you come? Or was yours merely a request?”

Fin shrugged. “I confess, I didn’t pay attention to the language. I was thrilled to have the chance to come inside. I’ve heard tell of this place for years and wished to see it for myself.” He grinned like a child. “I’ve been waiting for the summons.”

Miles appreciated Fin’s attitude.

“But now that I’m here, I’m curious as to the reasons. I may not recall the words, but there seemed to be an alarming amount of notes of exclamation.” Fin took a glass off the tray the servant held out to him. “Thank you, my good man.”

“Yes,” Freddie took his drink and nodded. “There were a prodigious number of them.”

Miles took his drink. “The matter warranted them.”

“Is there anything else you require, sir?” The servant asked.

“That will be all. Thank you.”

The man bowed and strode out of the room. Miles waited until they were truly alone. “I’ve made quite a muddle of things.”

“And why should today be any different?” Freddie mocked.

Miles glared at him. “The two of you are partly to blame, so I should think you’d hold your tongue.”

“I assume this must involve Miss Jenkins, then?” Fin asked. “Why do you keep involving me in this plan. As you’ll recall, I advised against it.”

Miles rolled his eyes but continued. “At the Trowbridge dinner party the other evening, I overheard several gentlemen speaking of her. They were complimentary about her person, yet each one vowed to keep their distance. It seems Grace’s penchant for accidents has become quite the topic of gossip.”

Freddie held up his hand. “Do not lay that at our feet. Those ‘accidents’ as you call them had nothing to do with our plan.”

Fin cleared his throat and gave Freddie a wide-eyed look.

“Begging your pardon. It had nothing to do with my plan.” He turned to Fin. “Are you happy?”

Fin gave a shrug-nod.

“Regardless,” Miles growled out, “I felt the need to confess to her my part in it all.”

Both men stilled, their glasses halfway to their lips. “You told her about the plan?” Fin whispered.

Miles gave a half-shrug. “Not exactly. I told her I was responsible for the accidents.”

Both men relaxed. “As you should have…months ago. I still do not understand what you were thinking.” Freddie leaned against the wall, one foot crossed over the other.

Fin winced, obviously more aware of the consequences for Miles than Freddie. “How was the news received?”

Miles scrubbed his hand through his hair. “At first, she was confused. Or maybe just hurt? She thought I had purposely tried to humiliate her. But once I told her my intentions were for the accidents to happen to the gentlemen, she was quite understanding.” He shook his head and released a heavy breath. “She actually apologized to me for reacting poorly at first.” He looked up at them, his frustrations coming to a head. “ She apologized to me , dash it all! I have ruined countless gowns?—”

“I believe it is really only one. She has a very proficient lady’s maid,” Freddie cut in.

Miles looked at him as if he were daft.

Freddie shrugged. “You said countless. By my count, it is only one, which is very countable.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “But the gowns are not even the worst of it. Because of me, she had to cut her hair! You heard the way Lady Haversham spoke of it at Trowbridge’s. She was?—”

“Quite rude.” Fin finished. “But that was a genuine accident, Miles. You were not even trying to make anyone else look bad. I don’t think you can blame yourself for that one.” Fin flicked up his brows. “And you might have done her a favor. The style suits her very well.” There was a tone to Fin’s voice that Miles did not care for.

Freddie heaved out a sigh. “I’m confused. Why did you demand my presence if it appears everything worked out for the best? You confessed your part, and now you may move on. She forgave you, so all is well.” He placed his empty glass on a tray on the sideboard. “I see no problem.”

“The problem is I still feel guilty. She is taking her lack of success this Season as a sign of her own failure. When in truth, I set her up to fail from the beginning. I need to tell her everything.”

Fin held up a hand. “Now, Miles. While I advised against Freddie’s plan, I’m not sure confessing is best.” He rubbed his hands on the arms of the chair. “What good can come of it? You combine the accidents with the plan and—” his head shook.

“And she will never speak to you again,” Freddie finished. “There is no reason to tell her because there is no way she will find out. The three of us are the only ones who know what you did. And we have no intention of telling her.” He glanced at Fin, who nodded.

“But I don’t know if I can keep it a secret. Every time I see her, the guilt eats at me more and more. And then she tells me how grateful she is to me for all the help I’ve been to her this Season…it’s not to be borne.”

“If you wish for her to speak to you ever again, you can’t confess.” Freddie said very matter-of-factly.

Miles slumped into a chair in the corner and dropped his face in his hands. “Then what am I to do? I don’t think I can live this way.”

“You can and you must. If she comes to her senses and agrees to be your wife, I can imagine it will make living with it a little easier.” Fin looked less than convinced by his words.

“How very Machiavellian of you, Fin.” Miles scowled.

Fin shrugged.

A servant entered the room and handed a pink note to Miles. He cracked open the seal and read. As he suspected, it was from Blackstone.

Mr. Yardley,

I’m pleased to see you here. Please stop by my office before you leave for the day. I wish to have a word with you.

Blackstone

Miles stiffened. Had he heard their conversation about him? He tried to recall exactly what they’d said. Freddie was the only one to say anything derogatory. And Blackstone already held low opinions of him. He would not hold Freddie’s words against Miles, surely.

“What is it? You look ill,” Fin said.

Miles shook it off. He was likely worried about nothing. “Blackstone just wishes to speak with me before I leave.”

Freddie stood up and put his cue back in the stand. “I shall take my leave. Now that you have freed me from Father’s clutches, I intend to make the most of my freedom.”

Fin nodded. “As should I,” he lifted a shoulder, “take my leave. I have not escaped your father as he has no hold on me.”

Freddie gave Fin a bland look.

A gentleman stepped into the room and paused when he looked up. “I beg your pardon. I did not realize anyone was within.” He took a step back.

Miles stood up and motioned him forward. “No need to leave, Mr.—”

“Aubin. John Aubin.” He dipped his head.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Aubin. Miles Yardley. And this is my brother, Lord Weymouth, and my friend, Lord Finsbury.” Everyone bowed. “We were just taking our leave. You are welcome to the room.”

Mr. Aubin smiled. “I hope I’m not chasing you off.”

Miles lifted a hand. “No, indeed. Our business is concluded. We were on our way to take in the gallery before I escort Lord Weymouth and Lord Finsbury out.” Miles grinned. “It seems dear Randolph the goat has made a poor first impression on my guests, and they do not feel safe walking past him alone.”

Fin scoffed and elbowed Miles in the ribs. “Feeling as though his eyes follow me is not the same as being afraid of him. Lud.”

Mr. Aubin smiled. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope we shall meet again.”

Miles bowed and motioned his guests toward the doorway. There was a more direct route to the gallery, but Miles secretly wished to see Fin’s reaction when they passed Randolph. It was childish, but he didn’t care.

Once in the corridor, he led them back through the reading room and down the corridor, past the staircase.

Fin glared at Randolph as they passed. “You see? He is still watching me.”

“Egad,” Freddie grumbled. “Are we to hear about this all day?”

Fin straightened but cast a wary look over his shoulder.

They turned into the sitting room and dipped their heads in greeting to those inside. Once out of the room, Freddie let out an exaggerated sigh. “Lud, I have not known a single person we’ve come across.” He looked annoyed. “At least at Brooks’s I’m acquainted with nearly everyone.”

“I don’t always see that as an advantage,” Fin said. “Sometimes it would be preferable to be unknown.”

Miles nodded. He could agree with that.

They started down the gallery corridor, and the talking stopped. After all, it was difficult to speak when your mouth was agape. “Good Heavens,” Fin whispered. “Is there not a species that escaped his notice?”

Miles shook his head. “I can’t think of any.”

Freddie paused. “Why is the flamingo wearing a cravat?”

Miles smiled at the flamingo. “Do not all flamingos wish to wear a cravat?”

“It’s almost as if your time here is making you like him.” Freddie looked concerned but turned back to the displays. “And why are they not behind glass? It seems it would be better—but I’m uncertain for whom—them or us.”

“Lord Blackstone thinks glass would make it seem unnatural. He says they were free in life, and he’ll keep them free in death.”

Fin dropped his head back and laughed. “Glass would make them captive? And what did stuffing them do?”

Miles shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Freddie waved a hand in front of his face. “I must be off. I can’t see anoth—I just must go.” He turned on his heel and headed back in the direction they’d come.

Fin followed after, but at a more sedate pace.

“Wait, Freddie. I’ll walk you out.”

“I’ll be fine. Miles, you help Fin past the sheep.” Freddie called over his shoulder as he rounded the corner.

“It’s a goat,” Fin and Miles said at the same time.

Fin glanced over at Miles and grinned. “I’ll see myself out. And you needn’t worry about Randolph. Should he charge, I daresay I can manage him.”

Miles clapped Fin on the back. “I dare say you can.” He took in a breath. “Thank you for coming.”

Fin nodded. “Have you made a decision?”

Miles shook his head. “No. I think it needs to settle a while longer.”

“Likely a wise idea.” Fin gave one last look at the gallery. “And I’m not as opposed to this place as Freddie. Please, do invite me back.”

“Indeed, I shall.” He lifted a shoulder. “And I intend to win Freddie over, in time.”

Fin offered his farewell and disappeared into the sitting room.

Miles looked to the end of the gallery corridor. Did he heed the letter or send his own expressing his regrets?

He ran a hand through his hair. Was it not best to get it over with? If his membership was revoked, at least he could say he’d been a member of a club, could he not?

* * *

He stood in front of the door to Blackstone’s study. Lifting his hand, he rapped twice.

“Enter,” came the call.

Miles pushed open the door and peeked his head in. “You wished to speak to me, Lord Blackstone?”

The older man looked up from the papers in front of him on his desk and motioned Miles in.

He studied the man’s face as he settled in the chair next to Archibald the tortoise. Did his lordship look angry? Did he look as if he were about to expel him from the club? Would Miles hold the honor of being the first expelled from a club after less than a fortnight of membership? An illustrious distinction, to be sure.

“My dear boy, I must make a confession.”

Miles tipped his head to the side. That was not what he’d expected.

“I was in the meeting room when I happened to overhear your conversation.”

Miles’ shoulders sagged. This was it, then? It was curious. If someone had asked him who of the Yardley men was most likely to be expelled from a club, Miles would have instantly said Freddie. Never had he thought it would be himself. But there were many things he’d done this Season that he never thought he’d do.

“It was pertaining to a young lady. And while I know it is none of my concern, I thought a bit of fatherly advice might not go amiss.”

“About a young lady?” Miles repeated. Then he’d not heard them speaking of the club? That was a relief. Although he was uncertain speaking of Grace was much better. It might not see him expelled from the club, but it surely could not make him look acceptable in the viscount’s estimation.

“While I know not the particulars of the matter, I believe I have an idea as to your conundrum.” He looked kindly at Miles. Far kinder than he deserved. “It has been my experience that it is always best if someone we care about learns troubling news from us rather than someone else. The pain cuts deeper when it’s exposed by someone who likely has ulterior motives or just lacks the care that we would show.” He squinted at Miles. “You see, young ladies are like flamingos.”

Miles twisted his head to the side, thinking he’d misheard. “I beg your pardon?”

“Women are like flamingos, my boy. They may keep their heads tucked beneath their wings, for all the world to think they are paying no mind. But take heed, they are listening to everything—listening for danger. And should they hear it, especially muttered from someone else, they will wade into deep waters and out of your reach.” He nodded sagely. “Do you understand my meaning?”

Miles squinted, his lips pushing out slightly. He’d understood until the flamingo entered the conversation.

But flamingos aside, he knew there had been some wise words uttered. And while it made him physically ill to think of telling Grace, he knew Blackstone was correct. Why had he taken any advice from Freddie?

Miles stared at the man. It was curious. He’d not gotten the impression that Lord Blackstone had much between the ears any longer, if, indeed, he ever had. That such prudent and thoughtful words had been shared put the man in a new light. “I’ll think on your words, my lord.”

Blackstone smiled. “We can’t ask for more than that now, can we?” He pulled out his pipe and packed it. “And you may wish to tell your friend, Lord Finsbury, that I, too, have wondered at Randolph. But we’ve come to an agreement, and he no longer keeps watch over me.” He cackled out a laugh, and Miles wondered again if the man might not be a bit touched in the head. How could he offer such sane advice in one moment and seem one step from bedlam in the next? It was a wonder, indeed.