One month had passed since the death of his father. Myles had made several changes. The first had been to hire a new manager for their country estate. He’d tried, on numerous occasions, to tell his father the estate manager was stealing from the till. His father refused to see bad in anyone.
Gerard and Sophie now resided in Mayfair in a modest fully furnished manor house belonging to the elderly Baron Centerville. The baron, after the passing of his wife, retired to the country refusing to return to London. His broken heart could not take the strain. He was, after all, nearly eighty. Each day that passed without word from Smythe had Myles growing more frustrated. Investigating someone from America was a lengthy process.
He put those thoughts aside and concentrated on what he planned to do. He rode his favorite horse, Storm, to the Wentworth’s for afternoon tea. He hadn’t seen his friends since his father’s death. The smell of fresh rain, which fell that morning, hid the somewhat putrid smells of London during the summer months. The air hitting his face as he raced through the streets exhilarated him and gave him courage.
The lightheartedness quickly evaporated as he handed the reins off to a groomsman and realized he was about the do the most important thing in his life. His stomach churned with nerves and uncertainty. Feelings Myles didn’t relish having.
The butler announced him as the Earl of Northborough and it took Myles a moment to react. When would he get used to being the earl?
Besides the entire Seabrook family, Spencer and Amesbury were present also. He acknowledged Spencer with a nod and a glare. Myles hadn’t forgotten witnessing the kiss he and Bella shared or the warning Spencer had given him.
“Lord Northborough,” Emma spoke first. “Please sit and have some tea.”
“Please, Emma, continue to address me as Myles. I’m still looking around for my father every time someone says Northborough.” Lightness entered his chest at being amongst his friends, and he genuinely smiled for the first time in a month.
“Myles then.” Emma dipped her head and motioned to an empty chair opposite the settee.
As he sank into the comfortable, familiar chair he’d spent many afternoons in, a deep sigh escaped his lips.
Wentworth Manor had always been his second home and he loved every member of the Seabrook family. Bella sat opposite him, on the settee, between Emma and her mother. Their eyes met and she sloshed her tea over the rim of her teacup. “Lady Isabella, have you missed me?”
Myles ignored the shocked look on her face, leaned back and smiled behind his cup of tea. Just like old times. The dowager duchess even sent him a warning look from her perch. Yes, indeed, like old times.
What game did Myles play with her today? Bella didn’t like his devil-may-care attitude. Actually, come to think upon it, he was only being the typical Myles. Why did it bother her today?
Perhaps because she had missed him terribly. Not that she would admit it to him. He did not need an ego boosting. But the past month had lacked without his exhilarating personality. Why had he stayed away so long? As the new head of his household surely he wasn’t expected to cloister himself behind closed doors after his father’s death?
Dressed all in black from his Hessian’s to his breeches to his waistcoat and cravat suited him. The only thing not black was his shirt of deep grey. All the black against his auburn hair, which curled to his collar and needed a trim, per usual, looked good on Myles. And presently his emerald eyes sparkled with mischief.
The Myles of before his loss sat before her. Her heart pounded inside her chest, and her hands trembled, hence the sloshing of her tea. Somehow he still managed to throw her off balance, so she gave him her most coquettish smile. “Tea time has been slightly boring without you. But alas, the Season is officially over, so all of London has been quite. As you well know, many have fled to the country to escape the heat and sickness. We, however, remain as always. I do miss Amelia and Bridgeton as they are spending time at their country estate.” She paused and took another sip of her now warm tea.
“I begged Wentworth to let me go with them as there’s nothing for me here.” She flicked her wrist. “But to my dismay, he refused.” By the expression on Myles’s face she knew she shocked him with her last comment. Well it was true. While she rode almost daily in the park with Spencer, she was bored and lonely. Not with Spencer, he was his usual entertaining and charming self. Truthfully she had been waited with a heavy heart for Myles to reappear into her life.
Abruptly Myles stood and bowed. “I beg your leave. I must speak to Wentworth.”
Bella’s eyes followed Myles across the room. He spoke quietly to her brother, then they both quit the room. What was that about, she mused? Once again he proved to her, being in her company, wasn’t enough for him. Tears pooled in her eyes and she blinked them away. Myles would never cause her to shed another tear as long as she lived.
“Can I pour you a brandy?” Wentworth held up the crystal decanter.
Myles knew it held the best brandy money could buy. He used the same supplier. “Yes, I need to kill the bitter taste of tea from out of my mouth.”
Wentworth chuckled. “Put some sugar in it.”
“Only women sweeten their tea. If men did they’d seem soft.”
“I do,” Wentworth stated.
“My point exactly.”
Wentworth held out his drink, then pulled it back. “Are you inferring I’ve become soft?”
Myles snagged the glass out of Wentworth’s hand and downed the contents. The burn was welcome and the eventual warmth spreading in his stomach more so. He raised his glass. “Another please.”
“Not if you guzzle it. I’ll not waste my good brandy on someone who doesn’t savor the flavor.”
Myles laughed as he remembered a time Wentworth locked himself in this very study for days, drowning himself in his good brandy. Not soon after, he found himself married to Emma and a happy man.
Would he be so fortunate?
“I needed to relax,” Myles admitted to his friend.
“Relax?” Wentworth questioned with a raised brow.
Myles took a deep breath and exhaled. “Will you consider me for Isabella? I’d like your permission to marry her.”
Before Myles could finish Wentworth topped off their glasses.
“Yes. It’s about bloody time. Three years to be exact.” Wentworth held up his glass for a toast. “Welcome to the family for real.”
“Here, here,” Myles said. His heart slowed from its rapid pace. He was relieved even more than he wanted to admit to himself.
Wentworth placed his empty glass on the sideboard. “Excuse me while I get her.”
Before Myles could protest, his friend left. He wasn’t ready to ask her now. He didn’t have his mother’s ring with him, and he didn’t want to propose without it. However, Wentworth took his choice away. Once again his heart accelerated and sweat moistened his brow and upper lip. He found his handkerchief tucked inside his waistcoat pocket and dabbed his forehead and lips.
Moments later Bella entered the study and Myles jumped to his feet. Wentworth broke decorum and shut the door giving them total privacy. On any given day before now, Myles would have reveled in the privacy. Not today, his confidence had gone astray.
`”Did you wish to speak to me?” God love his Bella for breaking the silence and getting to the point.
“Yes. Please sit.” He gestured to the chair opposite the one he recently vacated. Myles tried to ignore the blood racing through his body and pounding in his ears. He descended to one knee, took Bella’s hands in his sweaty, trembling ones. He didn’t meet her eyes. He didn’t want her to witness the fear that must be evident in them.
“Would you make me the happiest man in all of England and marry me? I promise to love, cherish and take care of you until my dying breath.”
“No.”
Did his ears deceive him? Had she said no?
He raised his eyes and met her soft blue ones. He could not be certain he understood the emotions he glimpsed within them. All he knew was his heart stopped beating and deafening silence descended on the room.
“Pardon?” he breathed out, then held his breath and waited.
“I’m sorry, Myles. I can’t marry you.” Bella stood and hurried out of the room without so much as a backwards glance or a by-your-leave.
Myles sank down on the thick Oriental rug, his back against Wentworth’s desk, his legs out straight. What the hell happened? Why did she refuse me? Jesus, I need another drink.
“What did you say to my sister? She hurried down the hall crying and practically knocked me over in her haste to get away from you,” Wentworth barked.
“I asked her to marry me.” Had those words come from him? They sounded like a strangers. “She said no.”
“No,” Wentworth said, clearly as shocked as he was.”
“Yes. She said no. No explanation, just a simple, plain and soft spoken no.” Myles raked his fingers through his hair, then yanked, hoping the pain would break through his numbness. “Could you please leave me alone for a moment while I pull myself together? Also, could you send for my horse?”
“Myles.” Wentworth reached his arm out as if he might place it on his shoulder, then thought better of it. “Yes, of course. Take all the time you need.”
Once alone, he no longer fought the tears threatening his eyes. To this day he could count three times he’d cried in his entire life. Excluding the time he was fifteen and his father sent away the scullery maid he’d declared he was going to marry.
The first time was when he left Sophie after the duel. He regretted the tears he shed that day as she didn’t deserve them.
The second was the day his father died.
Now the third.
Swiping away the embarrassing tears, Myles pulled himself up off the floor, stood up straight and tall. Masking his broken heart, he left his best friend’s home for the last time. It would be too painful to visit after today’s humiliating refusal from Bella. From this day forth his heart would be dead. He would never allow himself to be susceptible to another woman as long as he lived.
He needed to marry and produce an heir. He would bloody well accomplish that without his heart involved.
Whenever Myles stared into her eyes—she had love shining in them for him, making him wonder why she refused him. Too bad he never realized until now how much he loved her. How much a part of his life she was. He would miss her and love her until the day of his demise.
Myles could not face going home. He’d foolishly confided in his mother and sister’s he intended to ask Wentworth for Bella’s hand.
Although he’d not planned to ask Bella this very day, his family would notice his depressed mood and he couldn’t deal with them right now.
Instead of going home he went to the house of his dear friend, Penelope. Mayhap she could shed light on the workings of the female mind.
Bella struggled down the hall, nearly colliding with her brother, in her haste to reach her rooms.
She dismissed her maid and collapsed on her bed. Curling up into a ball, she cried, deep sobs, originating from the center of her being. Why did it seem as though she had no control over her life or emotions anymore. She had made some questionable decisions of late. She couldn’t wait for the day her dreams and her life were her own again
Bella’s self- inflicted heartache ended with her bedchamber door banging open and the loud booming voice of her eldest brother.
“You refused.” He kicked the door closed. “Why? It’s what you’ve wanted for years. You should’ve seen Myles. I’ve never witnessed him like that. He barely spoke. He retreated into himself.”
The side of her bed sunk from her brother’s weight as he sat on the edge. “Please tell me why?”
“Because I don’t know if he meant it,” she cried out as she rolled over and sat up with her arms wrapped around her bent up knees.
“He would not have asked if he didn’t mean it.”
“You don’t understand. You’re a man. Why did he ask me now and not three years ago? Two years ago? Two months ago?”
Clearly the question baffled her brother.
“He asked me now because he’s an earl. Because he needs an heir and because the prince asked him to.”
“Oh, Bella,” Wentworth said, his voice softening. His anger of moments ago dissipated. “None of those things are the reason he asked. Myles does as he pleases. Always has and always will.” Wentworth, in a rare show of closeness, moved up the bed and wrapped his enormous arms around her.
“Yes, it’s true. Myles needs an heir. But trust me when I say it’s not why he asked. I can be blind to other people’s emotions and needs at times, but even I can see the love he has in his eyes for you. We can all fool ourselves to think it is love born out of friendship, but it would be a lie. As for the prince speaking to him, he might have, but trust me in this. Myles would never, ever, do, or say, or ask, someone to marry him if he didn’t want to.
“Prinny has been hounding him for years to marry. Myles always ignored him. All I ask is you reconsider. You have loved and wished to marry him ever since your first Season. Possibly even before then. Don’t risk your happiness or his because you question his motives and timing. Listen to your heart. Because believe me when I say this, there’s nothing more precious than true love.”
Wentworth paused and rubbed his chin. “I get cold sweats whenever I think how I almost ruined my chances for a life with Emma.” He rose from the bed, strolled across the room. Right before he opened the door he turned back. “I know your heart is hurting. It doesn’t have to be. Marry Myles. You will never find anyone who loves you as deeply as he does, or a more honorable gentleman.”
After listening to her brother it did seem as though her reasons for refusing had little merit. Perhaps she’d consent if he asked again. Would he ask again? He must hate her for humiliating him when he’d bared his heart and soul to her. She climbed off the bed totally surprised night had fallen. She sat at her small mahogany desk and penned a quick note to Myles.
I must apologize. Please meet me at the servants’ door at midnight.
She didn’t bother to sign it. He’d recognize their family seal and who else in her family needed to beg his forgiveness. Now, what did she do to occupy her time until midnight? She refused to lie down. What if she fell asleep and didn’t wake up.