A Most Sinful Proposal (The Husband Hunters Club 2)

“Of course I did. Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, shivering a little. He’d lit the fire but the chimney was full of soot and wouldn’t draw properly.

“Look. I have some food for you. Eat up and you’ll feel better. You always feel better when you’ve eaten.”

It was true, he did feel better on a full stomach.

“Why did you frighten Lady Longhurst?”

He met those familiar eyes and looked away. “She deserved it. My mother…”

“Augustus, you can’t go about punishing people because they remind you of your mother. You loved your mother, you know you did.”

“I hardly knew her.”

“Well, she loved you.”

He finished the food and pushed back his chair with a sigh. He did feel better now. But so weary; his eyelids were drooping.

“You’re the only one who has ever loved me, Bo-bo,” he murmured, using the old childhood name, the sound of it comforting him.

He could hear the fire being stoked, the warmth spreading through him as he dozed. He knew there were things to do, important things. He had to find the rose, but that could wait until tomorrow, when Valentine set off after the final name on his list.

Beauchamp.

Was it fate? Or just luck? Well, whatever it was, Augustus was pleased things had worked out this way. The end was coming.

Soon he would have completed his life’s work and he would finally be able to rest.

Chapter 25

Valentine hadn’t visited the town of Bentley Green before, and he found it an industrious little place. Bentley Green was a market town, and because it was market day there were numerous people about, competing with the noise made by the farm animals penned in the market square. Stalls had been set up, selling eggs and cheeses and other farm produce, while children played at tiggy around the barrows and carts. Marissa laughed at a farmer who stood with his booted feet apart, discussing the weather and shouting encouragement to his flustered wife, as she chased an escaped goose through the melee.

They left their horses and carriage at a stable and set off to find what information they could on the Beauchamps. Before too long George declared he was hungry.

“We should have bought another picnic basket,” he added. “Why didn’t you think to tell Mrs. Beamauris to pack it, Valentine?”

“I have more important things to think of than your stomach, George.”

“Nothing is more important than my stomach,” George declared.

Marissa giggled.

She seemed happy today and he played at being happy, too, although he was beginning to wonder if he’d ever find the Crusader’s Rose. The rose had filled his life for so long that he didn’t know what he’d do without it, and yet, strangely, the idea did not fill him with despair. Not when Marissa was by his side.

There were two taverns in Bentley Green: the Fox and Hounds, which had a private parlor, and The Crosskeys, which didn’t. They chose the former.

At first the landlord of the Fox and Hounds was reluctant to hire the parlor out to them.

“We have plenty of so-called gentlemen willing to pay to seat themselves in here away from the common folk,” he said suspiciously, looking Valentine up and down. “Why should I let you have the whole parlor for only three persons when I can fit a full dozen in there?”

“Because I am Lord Kent and I do not want to share,” Valentine said in a cold and haughty voice.

The man returned his stare, and then gave a respectful nod. “Fair enough then, Your Lordship. This way.”

Valentine caught George’s grin at Marissa as they made their way down the narrow, musty passage. “Valentine is an approachable fellow most of the time, but don’t ever forget he’s a lord of the realm.”

“Being a lord of the realm comes in handy,” Valentine retorted, “as you may find out one day.”