Page 5 of A Trial of His Affections (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #2)

Chapter Five

M iles settled into the chair in his study. It was good to be back in London, even if he was still uncertain about some matters at Ashmere. He had plenty of causes to keep him diverted for the next several months, at least. He pulled his portefeuille off the side table and flipped through the papers inside. He had three pressing causes that needed his attention. He had little time to waste.

Franklin, his butler, knocked on the door and pushed inside. “This was just delivered for you, sir.” He presented a small silver tray with a folded ivory-colored paper, sealed with red wax.

Miles took the missive and nodded. “Thank you, Franklin.” He cracked the seal and scanned the contents.

Yardley,

Please join us for tea this afternoon. There has been a development with Grace and Lady Haversham that I wish to discuss with you.

Jenkins

Tea at Jenkins’ townhouse that afternoon. He raised a brow, his breath sucking in slow and deep through his nose. From the sound of it, it would not only be the two of them, either.

Miles closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. The missive was vague. But knowing Lady Haversham was involved made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

He pushed himself up and scribbled out a reply. “Please inform Cook that I will take tea with the Jenkinses today, so she need not prepare anything.” He pressed the reply into Franklin’s hand. “And please see this reply is delivered.”

Franklin bowed. “Yes, sir.”

As the door closed, Miles read through the invitation more closely. While Jenkins had signed the note, he knew who it was really from. Grace. Things must not have worked out as she thought with Lady Haversham. Miles grunted. He could have predicted as much. Lady Haversham had been high in the instep before her marriage. But since she became a countess, she was too lofty by half. She had surely realized that Grace was below her notice—not that Miles agreed with the assessment.

And so he’d been summoned for tea. He was a man being led to his execution. Or so it felt.

And yet, he could not ignore the skitter in his stomach and the pressing in his chest. While he dreaded what he was being asked to do, he could not dispute that he looked forward to seeing Grace. Would his help require them to spend more time together?

He grumbled at the hope welling up inside him. He was pitiful and a complete milksop.

He folded the paper and stared at it without seeing his name scrawled across the front. What was he to do? He knew he could not deny her what she wanted. But he was uncertain he could do what she asked of him either. Was it not against the laws of humanity to ask the man who admired her—or rather loved her—to introduce her to other gentlemen? Gentlemen who might succeed where he had not, in earning her affections? It was not to be borne.

He ran a hand through his hair and down his face. Perhaps he was doing it a bit brown, but even so, he could not like the task before him.

Another knock sounded at his door. “What is it now, Franklin?” There was a slight irritation in Miles’ voice. At this rate, he would not review a single word of the cause on his papers before he left for the gallows.

Only, it wasn’t Franklin. It was Freddie.

Miles grinned. “Freddie, I had not realized you’d arrived in Town.”

“I arrived two days past. But Father has held me prisoner at Eaton House until just now.” Frederick scowled. “What does he think he’s been doing for all of my three and thirty years? You would think he was on his deathbed and set to toss the title to me directly with all his tutoring of late.”

Miles grinned at his brother’s petulance. “We both know that will not happen anytime soon. The man is fit as a fiddle and likely has another ten to twenty years in him.” He did not envy his brother’s role as heir. Indeed, with Julian’s early death, it put Miles in closer proximity to the title than he had ever desired. He did not enjoy being the spare, he could hardly imagine being the heir.

His life had been perfectly complete—with one obvious exception—when he’d only been a barrister. Then Jules had been killed, and it had put Miles on a different path. Now, he owned an estate, which came with a bag full of worries and concerns. No, Miles did not envy Freddie’s position, and he desired it even less. “But he did release you, so there is joy to be had in that. We’ll use your free time well.” Miles motioned to the sideboard across the room. “Would you care for a drink?”

“I should not turn down a glass of rum.” Frederick shrugged. “Or brandy if you have it. Either will do.”

Miles chuckled. “Pray, restrain your enthusiasm regarding that notion.”

Frederick smirked. “I beg your pardon. I’m simply fatigued from all Father’s lecturing.” He flicked his brows up. “He seems to think I care about the Corn Laws.” He held up a finger as he stood and moved over to the sideboard on the far wall. “Don’t even mention Catholic Emancipation in Father’s presence. You’ll not be freed for at least two hours.” He poured the dark liquid from the bottle and set it back on the tray.

Miles smiled patiently at his brother. It was a trifle troubling to know the heir to the Earldom of Kentwood had not a care nor, it seemed, even a general knowledge of the political matters of the day. “The Corn Laws should be repealed. Especially in light of the crop failures last summer. But, as you are not yet a member of Parliament, I shall not bore you with the particulars.”

“Gads, I hope not.” Freddie collapsed into the chair and swung a leg up over the arm.

It mildly impressed Miles that not a single drop spilled from the glass. It seemed the future Earl of Kentwood had some talents outside of cards and general frivolity. Although Miles doubted their father would be delighted by the newfound talent.

“Have you started drinking without me?” A deep voice sounded in the doorway.

Miles looked over and grinned. “Fin, I’m glad to see you.” He looked from his brother to his long-time friend. He really did not have time for visits, but he had to admit he was happy to see both men. “Now London feels more friendly.”

Nicholas Finsbury, or Lord Finsbury as society knew him, did not wait for Miles to offer a drink. He strode over to the sideboard and helped himself. “Weymouth, Stanhope, and I have decided this is the year you will finally become a member of Brooks’s. You’ve been putting it off for years, but we’ll not allow you to dally a moment longer. I don’t think you understand just how much benefit it could be for your profession.” He sat in the chair diagonal from Miles with far less dramatics than Freddie had.

“It is why I chose Red Lion Square for my residence. It’s close to Lincoln’s Inn, which is far more beneficial to my profession than Brooks’s or White’s.” Miles rubbed at the back of his neck. It was not the first time they’d had this discussion.

Freddie shook his head. “I disagree. You can never have too much association with those of society. You are only getting the society of those within the law at Lincoln’s. You need to broaden your horizons.”

“Besides, if you’re a member, there are no room exclusions. We need not stay in the public rooms when you join us.” Fin took a swallow.

Ah, and there was the true reason for their insistence. Miles should have guessed they had a hidden agenda.

Fin twisted his glass around on the arm of the chair. “And I’m certain the food is preferable to Lincoln’s.”

Miles bristled, offended on behalf of his law club. The place held a fond place in his heart. “If I agree, will you stop wasting your breath on the subject?”

Fin looked at him blandly. “That is the general idea, Miles. If you are a member, we need not continue asking you to become one.”

Miles eyed them. “What I mean is if I join one, I do not want you pressing me to join the others as well.”

“But why must you limit yourself?” Freddie asked.

“I’ll hardly have time to visit one club. Let alone several. My schedule is full with causes. I will have little time to socialize.” Miles leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “I suggest you talk amongst yourselves and decide which club you wish me to join. And then I shall not hear another word about it.”

Fin and Freddie looked at each other and shrugged.

“How is the Season shaping up, do you suppose?” Fin asked. “You’ll not bury yourself in your causes for the whole of it, will you?”

“Not enough of it,” Miles sighed, and both men lowered their glasses to stare at him.

“That bad, eh?” Freddie lifted his brows.

Miles lifted a shoulder and eyed his brother. “I’m certain it will turn out well enough for others.” Freddie snorted, but Miles ignored it. He was certain to whine about their father and his lectures again if asked about the response. “I’m to be forced to suffer while I watch Grace—er, Miss Jenkins—courted about on the arms of other gentlemen.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s deuced awkward,” he mumbled.

“Miss Jenkins? As in Philip Jenkins’ sister? What has she to do with anything?” Freddie asked. “Why should you care whose arm she is on?”

“Yes, and why should it be awkward?” Fin asked.

Miles gave his brother a bland look. “I would have thought you’d remember. After all, you volunteered me for the position.” He sighed.

Freddie lifted his glass, licking every last drop off his lips. “Philip is to give her a Season this year. He wished for Miles to introduce her to some of his friends and acquaintances.” He raised a brow at Fin. “She is looking to secure a viscount or a baron.”

Fin raised a derisive brow. “She is a fortune hunter, then?”

Miles grimaced. While he normally did not take offense to the word, in Grace’s case, he did. “I should not call her that. It is not for her she desires it but for her family. She only wishes to see them secure. If anything, I think it speaks in her favor.”

Freddie tossed back the rest of his drink and rested the glass on his knee. “You don’t still hold a tendré for her, surely? I thought you had recovered from that. Is that why you insist it will be awkward?”

Miles stared at his brother, his lips pushing out. Must he explain the whole of it? His brother had never understood his attraction to Grace. Miles did not believe Freddie disapproved of her. Indeed, his father didn’t either. But neither of them thought her his best option, which was why he’d never told them of the proposal. They didn’t understand his feelings. His father had not married for love. And Freddie? Well, Miles doubted he’d ever love anything more than his horse. “I esteem her above anyone else. But that is not the entirety of it.” Perhaps if he’d told Freddie sooner, he would not have volunteered Miles’ services. “Indeed, I asked for her hand. But she rejected my offer.”

To his credit, Freddie’s mouth dropped open. “You proposed? When?”

“Last year—before I left for Berkshire.” Miles rubbed at his eyes, waiting for the mockery that was sure to come.

“If you told her you esteem her, it’s no wonder she turned you down flat.” Fin dropped his head back and laughed. “I’ve never known a woman who did not wish to be told she is esteemed.”

Miles shot his friend a glare. “What would you have me say?”

Fin leveled his gaze at him. “Do you love her?”

Miles breathed in through his clenched teeth. Did he admit it aloud? He was among friends. Why should he not admit to his feelings? “Yes, I believe I do.”

Fin nodded slowly but remained quiet.

“Why did you not tell me?” Freddie asked, hurt evident in his voice.

Miles shrugged. “I know you do not disapprove of the notion, but I also doubted you’d approve. And then when she rejected me, I did not see the point. Indeed, I thought it more likely you would tease me for it.”

Freddie swiveled and dropped his feet to the floor. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, nothing teasing in his gaze. “I cannot believe it.” He stared at Miles a moment longer, then stood and headed over to the sideboard to pour himself another drink. This time, he opted for the weaker claret. He blinked twice at Miles. “Lud, now I understand why you did not look pleased when I offered your help to her.” He grimaced but then sobered. “I can’t imagine I will ever fall in love.”

“I don’t find that hard to believe.” Fin looked at Miles and rolled his eyes. “I have oft wondered if you are capable of such a feeling.”

Freddie dropped back into his seat and shrugged. “It should not surprise me if I’m not. It’s not in my nature.”

Fin turned back to look at Miles. “What are you to do, then?”

Miles lifted his shoulders and sighed. “I have no notion. Jenkins invited me for tea this afternoon to discuss the options.” He scrunched up his nose in distaste. “I’d rather placed my hope in Lady Haversham.”

“That was your first mistake.” Fin guffawed as he put his elbows on the chair arms and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “And who will you suggest?”

Miles shook his head. “I have no notion. Is it not torture enough for me to watch it all? Must I also take the lamb to the slaughter?”

Fin tapped his extended fingers on his lips. “You could introduce her to me.” He dropped his head to the side. “I will attempt to ensure she does not fall in love with me.”

“How kind of you to fall on your sword.” Miles’ tone was bland. How did Fin think that would help? He was one man among dozens.

“You could always introduce her to less desirable men,” Freddie said as he stared into his empty glass as though uncertain where all the claret had gone.

“Why would I do that? I do not wish for her reputation to be tarnished.” How could Freddie even suggest such a thing?

“I’m quite certain that is not what Freddie meant. There are gentlemen about with impeccable reputations, but you would never consider allowing Lady Evangeline or Lady Arabella to stand up with them.” Fin looked thoughtful. “Lord Marcrum, for one. The man is known to be insensitive and quite cutting. He would not ruin her reputation. But you need not worry about her throwing you over in his favor. Even with a title, I can’t imagine Miss Jenkins consenting to marry him.”

Miles nodded. “But it is almost certain he will say something that will hurt her. How can I intentionally subject her to that? And for what end?”

“Why to enhance your consequence—was that not obvious?” Freddie looked at Miles like he was daft.

“I’m not entirely comfortable?—”

“Do you want her or not?” Freddie sat forward in his chair. His elbows rested on his knees. “Those men will give her pause. And when she does, you will show her you are the right man for her.”

“But I can’t give her a title,” Miles said in exasperation.

“If only I could foist mine upon you,” Freddie frowned.

Miles smiled at his brother’s melodramatic tone. But then he frowned. It would change things, would it not? She would surely take him if he were the heir to an earldom. He cocked his head to the side. Grace was the only thing that could persuade him to take Freddie’s place. But alas, it was not an option.

“Does she want a title? Or does she desire security for herself and her family?” Fin asked. “Though I consider the scheme a risky one, it affords you an opportunity. Should you show her you can provide the same security as any titled gentleman, she may yet be persuaded to accept your suit.”

“She thinks she wants a title.” Miles frowned. “And I doubt anyone will persuade her otherwise.”

Fin shrugged. “But you can give her security. Perhaps someone simply needs to show her what she really needs— who she really needs.”

Miles chewed on the side of his cheek. Fin was right. It was a risky plan. If Grace discovered his role in this scheme, it could end things with her indefinitely. He might not only lose Grace but also his friendship with Philip. Much was at stake.

But…if the plan worked, and he ended up with Grace, would it not all be worth it in the end? He sighed.

Freddie was the gambling man—not Miles. He closed his eyes.

But this was a single wager that could change everything—whether to his ruin or reward.

“Very well, what do you suggest?” He leaned forward, placing his elbows onto his knees. He studied his friend and brother. “Who shall we put on this list?”

Freddie grinned. “You won’t regret this. It’ll be quite the list.”

“You better be right, Fred,” Miles said resignedly as twisted his hands. “My future happiness depends upon it.”

* * *

Miles slowed his steps as he approached the townhouse in Bloomsbury Square. He looked up at the house, impressed by it. He would not have assumed Philip could afford something of this size and grandeur. Perhaps Philip’s horses were selling better than Miles realized. Would that help change Grace’s mind about him? Would she not feel inclined to secure a match with someone of title if she thought Philip was successful enough?

He approached the door and removed his hat as he withdrew a card from his pocket. He knocked and waited for the door to open. As he waited, he looked around the square. It was a lovely place. Perhaps not as much character as his own Red Lion Square. But Bloomsbury was still respectable.

The door opened, and a footman stared back at Miles.

He handed over his card. “I’ve an appointment for tea.”

The footman nodded and opened the door wider. “Follow me. The family is in the morning room.”

Miles handed off his hat and gloves and waited for them to be stowed away. Then he followed the man, passing a handful of other doorways. The corridor ended at the entrance of a brightly lit room. The footman stepped inside and announced Miles’ arrival.

“Please show him in, James.” Mrs. Jenkins’ voice sounded pleased. Was Grace already within?

The footman motioned Miles into the room.

He stepped inside and smiled when Mrs. Jenkins moved over to greet him. “Mr. Yardley, we are so honored you could join us.” She nodded to Grace. “Are we not, Grace?”

Grace stood in front of the sofa. She looked lovely in the rosy pink gown. It complimented her. Some might say her skin was too tanned because she did not have the porcelain color that was so in fashion. But Miles thought it set off her blonde hair even more. Or perhaps her hair brought out the tan of her skin? He did not know in this case which came first, the proverbial chicken or the egg.

Jenkins appeared at his side and clapped him on the back. “I’m glad you could make time in your schedule for us with such short notice.”

Miles kept his gaze on Grace. He could not seem to pull it off her.

She smiled. That meant she was happy to see him, did it not?

“It pleased me to receive the invitation.” He said absently. “My brother often accuses me of going to ground when I come to London.”

“Does he believe you are avoiding society?” Grace asked.

Miles shrugged. “I rarely know what Frederick is thinking. And I’m rather grateful for that.”

Grace’s lips twitched up slightly, and Miles’ heart raced. Lud, she was handsome when she smiled. The only thing he loved more was when she laughed.

She used to smile with far more abandon than she did now. He was uncertain what had caused the change, but he hoped it was not permanent. He missed her frequent smiles.

He grinned at them. “When I’m in Town, I am rather singularly focused on my profession, much to Frederick’s chagrin. Only this morning, he tried to convince me to join his club.”

Jenkins moved over to the sofa. “And are you going to do it?”

Mrs. Jenkins motioned to the sofa where Grace sat. “Do, sit, Mr. Yardley. Tea will be here shortly, I’m certain.”

Miles dipped his head to her in acknowledgement. “If it will stop him carping about, then I believe I shall.” He sighed. “But I have little time for it. My profession keeps me quite busy.”

“And do you enjoy your profession?” Grace asked.

Miles nodded as he settled into the corner of the couch. He’d wished to sit closer to her but had no excuse that required it of him. Pity there were not more people in attendance. But then, if there were more people, he might not have Grace’s undivided attention. And he believed that might be more desirable than sitting closer to her. But only just.

He leaned forward slightly. “Indeed, I do. My father had hoped I might forsake it now that I have an estate of my own.” Surely, drawing attention to that detail could only improve his appeal in her estimation. “But I find the challenge of each cause to my liking.”

She nodded, but he did not know if it was good or bad. Was she congratulating herself on avoiding his proposal? Or reconsidering him?

“I hope you will come out from hiding to attend at least a few events.” She clasped her hands in her lap, a smile curving the corners of her mouth.

“I’m certain I’ll find a handful diverting enough to pull me away from my chambers.” But how would he know which handful of things she would attend? Those were the only ones he cared about. He would need to know her schedule if he were to help her, would he not? Perhaps this plan was not as unacceptable as he’d originally believed. Especially in light of Freddie’s ‘improvements’ to it.

“I had hoped we could discuss just such things.” She paused and looked to Philip for confidence. “I had hoped that Lady Haversham would assist me. But it seems that is not to be.” A look passed over her features, and Miles longed to know what it meant.

She sucked in a breath and pasted a rather insincere looking smile on her lips. Why did she feel as if she had to put on airs with him? Did she not realize he would take her as she was? Disappointments and all? “But then I remembered you had said you would help to introduce me to your friends.”

She seemed to have forgotten Freddie’s role in the agreement. But the hope in Grace’s deep brown gaze kept the clarification in his mind only. Indeed, he’d known before he ever set foot in Bloomsbury Square that he couldn’t deny her. Especially when she looked at him in such a way. It was cruel, to say the least.

“As soon as I discovered you were putting your trust in Lady Haversham, I knew I would be called upon in the end.” He patted his pocket, still not entirely certain of Freddie’s plan. “And as such, I have prepared a list.”

Grace sighed in relief. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Yardley. We have little more than a month until the Season is officially underway. I was quite worried my Season was over before it had even begun.”

The relief evident in her features made Miles wonder if she had questioned his intentions to help. Had she thought he would not? That thought stabbed at his heart almost as much as the task before him.

He would help her, even if it meant forgoing his own happiness.