Page 2 of His Regency Goddess (Curves & Cravats)

Chapter Two

Sinclair Montgomery rubbed his tired eyes. They were dry and itchy and he had forgotten how he hated travelling by godforsaken ship. Throwing his head back, he looked at his surroundings. White's was so comforting. It felt like he had been here the day before with his friends, playing cards, drinking whisky, and trying to one up each other with the sauciest titbit about their latest trysts. That was four years ago. Four long years of travelling. Gambling for the reckless thrill, drinking whisky to drown his sorrows, and tumbling women for moments of bliss so he could briefly forget. Four years ago, he was the younger brother of a future Marquess, content in his role as the second son.

Sinclair had never been as controlled as Andrew and hadn’t needed to be. Andrew was clever and shrewd and was meant to do remarkable things. Life, in its cruel way, determined it was not meant to be. Andrew's life was cut short by a freakish accident and Sinclair had spent the next four years trying to understand why. Why did fate choose Andrew’s horse to buck him off without warning and not Sinclair, the reckless and foolish younger brother? He had watched in horror as the events unfolded, helpless to stop them playing out before his eyes.

Picking up his glass of whisky, Sinclair threw back the liquid in one gulp as he tried to block out the images. He had not wanted to return home but one of his father's letters had finally caught up with him as he traipsed across Europe. Marquess Maxwell Montgomery was unwell and wanted his heir to return home.

Sinclair suspected his father was exaggerating. He was a wily old fox. But the guilt had worked nevertheless, so here he was back in England. He had sent his luggage ahead and sent his best friend Daniel a missive to meet at White's within the hour He hoped to regain his bearings before facing his father. He did not want to be recognised, so he was wearing a heavy coat, a wide brimmed hat pulled low, and a week-old beard. He only revealed his identity to the doorman and found himself one of the dimmer and more private corners of the establishment.

"Look who finished kicking up a lark and came home!" Daniel’s gravelly voice coupled with a slap on the back broke up his melancholy thoughts. Seeing his familiar grin gave Sinclair a sense of comfort he had not realised he needed.

"It is good to see you, Daniel. You look well, apart from some lines across your face and grey hairs,” Sinclair said with a grin. “Marriage treating you well?"

"To be frank, I don't know why I didn't marry sooner. Why were we so against it? Wait till you meet Margot and my boys," he said proudly. "But that isn't news, Sin. I want to hear about you. Why didn't you tell me you were coming? You are in desperate need of a shave. Are you in hiding? Do you need money?" Daniel asked as he took in Sinclair’s appearance.

"No, nothing like that! My father has finally gotten his way. I booked passage and boarded a ship before I had the sense to change my mind. The beard…well, I thought it would be nice to enjoy the last vestiges of neglected nobility. And money? I survived all these years through an ongoing lucky streak of whist."

"Well, I am not ashamed to say I have missed you, Sin. I am really happy to see you. I hope you are home for good?"

"I think I am, as my father claims to be ailing. I will soon find out. I know he wants me to step into Andrew's shoes. Did I do a disservice to his memory, wallowing for so long?" Even though he spoke these words staring into his cup, he could feel Daniel’s empathetic gaze upon him.

"I also looked up to Andrew as a big brother. I still miss him. You are doing the right thing. Last I saw your father, he was doing fine, just lonely. He is going to be so happy you are home."

Daniel stood up, pulling Sin with him.

"My townhouse is a few doors down from yours now. Let me give you a ride home. See your father, get washed up, and for the love of God, have a shave. The first event of the season is tonight, and you need to come along with me. My wife Margot has a friend staying with us and I am already discarded in favour of shopping and gossip."

Sin followed him to the carriage where Daniel kept up a constant of stream of conversation and questions. As they pulled into Grosvenor Street, the discussion turned bawdy.

"So, all those women in all those countries, and must have gone through thousands of french letters?" Daniel asked.

"I may have lost all good sense, but I didn't lose my good taste in women", Sin laughed, thinking of the beautiful women he had bedded.

"There is my home,” Daniel suddenly pointed out the window. “That is my wife." Two women exited the carriage. One was blonde and petite. The other had fiery hair and was the very definition of voluptuous. Sinclair poked his head out of the window to get a closer look. The women waved back curiously, as they recognised Daniel. The red-haired woman conjured vivid imagery of the ancient statues and paintings he had seen on red clay pots as he travelled through Greece and Italy. A man could only hope to come across one of the beautiful women of myths and legends in his lifetime.

Who is this Goddess?

"Daniel?"

"Yes Sin?"

"Please tell me your wife is the blonde."