Page 54 of Sleepless in Saunton
Barclay felt the tension in his shoulders return. He wanted Jane to be happy, only in the deepest recesses of his soul it washimshe was to be happy with. Quickly, he reminded himself that this gentleman was an eminently more suitable prospect for the young woman than he was.
“That is the plan,” responded the young man with his mop of perfect curls on his head. There was no doubting the skill of the valet who attended him, to Barclay’s annoyance. Barclay had never obtained a manservant, although Tsar had offered the privilege. It had seemed an extravagance, although they could afford it. Until Natalya’s death, she had performed little tasks such as cutting his hair—an intimacy that he had quite enjoyed.
“So then you shall reside in the country at your father’s estate forevermore, like my good friend, Peregrine Balfour, who has made the inexplicable decision to take up estate management and leave the delights of London behind him.”
Dunsford chuckled in reproach. “I would not go so far as to say that. I have always enjoyed the … delights … of London.”
Barclay narrowed his eyes, not appreciating the implication. Jane was to find a good husband who would do right by her. Speaking without turning to look at the young fop, he joined in the conversation. “There are no current … delights … awaiting you in London, I trust?”
“What if there were? Proposing to Miss Davis surely does not preclude such a relationship on the side?”
Ridley straightened up from the baize-covered table to frown across the room. “I would not recommend it, Dunsford. Saunton is protective of his family, especially his womenfolk, since his change of heart earlier this year. If he were to discover you were anything but loyal …”
“There is no reason for him to learn of my private matters!” interjected Dunsford. “Miss Davis would never learn of it. She will be happy rusticating at my family home with a babe to dote on. If she is anything like my mother, she will barely notice my absence. Tell him, Trafford. It is how things are done in polite society.”
Carefully, Barclay chalked the leather-tipped end of his cue. It was that or turn and break it over the young fop’s head. He was so angry, his hands trembled with his repressed emotion. Under any circumstances, he would dislike the views the spoilt dandy aired, but the thought of it being Jane in the loveless, societal marriage Dunsford described was too much to comprehend. She deserved the love of a good man.
Trafford threw his hands up in surrender. “I am not the ally you seek. I love women, but when I settle down, I do not plan to continue playing the field. It is difficult and fraught with the threat of disease if one makes a misstep with the wrong paramour.”
“What rot!” sputtered Dunsford. “It is practically our duty to sow our wild oats. If we do not, we would bother our wives with an excess of sexual desires. No gentlewoman could handle such lust.”
For the first time, Barclay was grateful the late earl had not married his mother. She might have lost her reputation, but at least she had held on to her independence in Tsar’s household.
His mother was a loyal, kind woman, and she would not have fared well with a treacherous lech for a husband. From what Richard had described, their own father was much worse than this little upstart. Aurora might be relatively traditional in her feminine pursuits, but she was single-minded about issues that were important to her. The Earl of Satan might have broken her spirit.
Ridley took his time responding. “I have shared the bed of many fine women of the upper classes. My experience is that their appetites are the same as any other women.”
“You never met my mother, then!” exclaimed Dunsford.
Ridley and Trafford shook their heads, Ridley pressing his earlier argument. “Be that as it may, heed my warning when I say that Saunton will not like it, and he is not a man you should rouse to anger.”
Dunsford tensed, his next words demanding and cocksure. “And how will he know? Are you going to tell him?” It would have been amusing because of his medium stature, if Barclay were not seething with restrained anger.
Ridley shrugged. “Saunton need not be informed of such things. He would know. I would wager money that he will see through your ploy and turn down your proposal. The man knows what true love is, after all.”
“That is nonsense! This pretense that he is in love with the countess will last as long as it takes to confirm he has an heir before he reverts to his old ways. It is in his nature!”
Trafford frowned, considering this statement as he walked forward to take his place at the billiard table. “I am as cynical as any man who has sampled the delights of the flesh, but I do not believe that is the case. The earl has sought the women of his past to make amends. His actions are not ones of impermanence. I agree with Ridley. If it is your aim to dally, do not choose Miss Davis as your wife. You will invoke not only the earl’s wrath, but that of his younger brother who wed Miss Davis’s sister. The Balfour brothers are formidable alone, but paired up, they would wreak havoc on your existence for daring to toy with a relation under their protection.”
“The connection to Saunton is the very rationale for making the offer.”
Barclay wanted to thrust his cue through the man’s chest to stake Dunsford’s beating heart.
He restrained himself with an effort. Overreacting could start rumors about Jane, so he needed to temper his reaction lest he create a scandal for the young woman. Of all Jane’s fine qualities, her connection to Saunton was the least important. If he could trust himself to speak without flying into a rage, he would set the arrogant little arse right. He assured himself the benefit of staying silent was that he had learned the man’s true intentions, so he might take action.
Perhaps he must warn Jane? No, he did not have that right. He would inform Richard, who would refuse the match.
Ridley went to stand near Trafford, inspecting the shot Trafford had taken. “Then trust me, Dunsford. Do not make this decision lightly. If you wish to wed Miss Davis, you need to be fully committed when you approach the earl. Anything less and he will know. Saunton is not a fool.”
Dunsford came to stand by the table to await his turn to play. “I shall think on what you have advised.”
Barclay placed his cue down. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I find that I have an earlier engagement I forgot to attend to.”
Straightening his tailcoat, Barclay departed the room. He would not take a chance on this. Jane was too important. He must find the earl to discuss the matter right away.
When he found Richard, Barclay would demand to know more about the reparations to the women of the earl’s past. Richard had failed to mention such, and it was not acceptable that Barclay learned of it in the presence of the sniveling ninny who planned to propose to his Jane—he grimaced—to Jane. NothisJane. Just Jane.
Setting off to find the earl, he learned that both Richard and the duke had left Saunton Park for an undisclosed errand in Chatternwell and were expected back in the morning.
