Page 62 of The Truth About Lord Stoneville
As soon as he reached Halstead Hall, he passed throughthe courtyards until he came to the staircase that led to the floor where her bedchamber lay. Then he stood hesitating, his obsession making him ache to see her. Did he dare to try, despite the hour?
The debate became moot when male voices drifted down from above. His brothers were up there. What the devil?
Half inebriated, he vaulted up the stairs to find them lolling in chairs in the hall outside Maria’s door. Gabe clasped a bunch of violets in his hand while Jarret held a rolled-up piece of parchment in his.
“What are you two louts doing here in the middle of the night?” he growled.
“It’s nearly dawn,” Gabe said coolly. “Hardly the middle of the night. Not that you would have noticed, in your drunken state.”
Scowling, Oliver took a step toward them. “It’s still earlier than you, at least, ever rise.”
Gabe glanced at Jarret. “Clearly, the old boy doesn’t remember what today is.”
“I believe you’re right,” Jarret returned, a hint of condemnation in his tone.
Oliver glared at them both as he sifted through his soggy brain for what they meant. When it came to him, he groaned. St. Valentine’s Day. That sobered him right up. “That doesn’t explain why you’re lurking outside Maria’s door.”
Jarret cast him a scathing glance as he got to his feet. “Why do you care? You ran off to town to find yourentertainment. Seems to me that you’re relinquishing the field.”
“So you two intend to step in?” he snapped.
“Why not?” Gabe rose to glower at him. “Since your plan to thwart Gran isn’t working, and it’s looking as if we’ll have to marrysomeone,we might as well have a go at Miss Butterfield. She’s an heiress and a very nice girl, too, in case you hadn’t noticed. If you’re stupid enough to throw her over for a bunch of whores and opera dancers, we’re more than happy to take your place. We at least appreciate her finer qualities.”
The very idea of his brothers appreciating anything of Maria’s made his blood boil. “In the first place, I didn’t throw her over for anyone. In the second, I am damned well not relinquishing the field. And I’m certainly not giving it over to a couple of fortune hunters like you.”
The sound of footsteps coming down the hall from the servants’ stairs made them whirl in that direction. Betty walked slowly toward them, one hand shading her eyes.
That’s when it hit him. His brothers were here because of that silly superstition about a maiden’s heart being joined to that of whoever was the first man she spotted on St. Valentine’s Day.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Betty murmured as she approached, carefully avoiding looking at any of them.
A devilish grin lit Gabe’s face. “Betty, catch!” he cried and tossed a violet at her.
She didn’t even move a finger to stop it from bouncing off her and falling to the floor. “If your lordships willexcuse me,” she said in a decidedly snippy tone, “my mistress rang the bell for me.” With a sniff that conveyed her contempt for them, she slipped inside Maria’s room and shut the door firmly behind her.
“That was shameful,” Jarret told Gabe. “You know bloody well that Betty and John are sweethearts.”
“It’s not my fault that John didn’t show up this morning so she could see him first,” Gabe said with a shrug.
“He couldn’t,” Oliver ground out. “John was with me.”
His brothers turned their gazes on him again. “Right,” Jarret said coldly. “At the brothel. We know. We all know. And so doesshe.” Eyes glittering, he tipped his head toward Maria’s door.
An icy rage swelled in Oliver, directed mostly at himself. Of course she’d heard about his night in town. How could she not? Servants had a tendency to talk, and he’d been a fool to ignore that yet again. But he’d been so desperate to get away from here . . .
Now she would despise him even more.
He stiffened. All right, so he’d have to get past that. And he would, too. He wasn’t about to allow his brothers to step in and woo her.Hewas the one who’d discovered her.Hewas the one who’d brought her here and paid for her gowns, and they weren’t going to enjoy the benefits of that. The very idea of it made his stomach knot.
A groan escaped him. There he went again—being consumed by jealousy. It was like a pox; it ate at him day and night. There was only one way to cure himself of it—he had to bed her.
Yes, that was the answer. Once he reached his release in her arms, this obsession would surely end, and he could find himself again. He could go back to living his life as he pleased and ignoring the ramifications of his behavior. That’s what he must do. Scratch his itch. No matter how much his deuced family tried to interfere.
He’d had quite enough of their shenanigans this week. He’d allowed them to play their games and carry her off wherever they wished, but no more. She was his. All he had to do was convince her of it. And if that meant heeding some stupid superstition on St. Valentine’s Day, then by God he’d do it. To hell with them all.
“All right, you two,” he announced, “you’ve been having a grand time at my expense, but that’s over now.”
With a smirk, Jarret glanced over at Gabe. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. Do you?”
