Valentine's Vow (Avenging Lords 3)

“How insightful,” Miss Kendall replied. “I shall try to remember that on those dark days when the heavy cloud of grief descends. But I am not sure Mr Cassiel will bring you the answers you seek.”

“I have come to terms with my loss,” Drake said, and Valentine felt the heat of his friend’s stare boring into his temple. “Some friends still struggle.”

Valentine felt Miss Kendall’s stare, too, though he did not meet her gaze lest she note the truth of it in his eyes.

“And was there anything in particular that helped you to accept your brother’s passing?” Miss Kendall sounded hopeful. “I only ask as I have a personal interest in the answer.”

Valentine was just as curious, though he knew there was but one significant change in Drake this last month.

“The answer is love, Miss Kendall. I fell in love and recently married.” He gave an amused snort. “Actually, it happened the other way around, but I am madly in love with my wife all the same.”

A tense silence filled the small space. A space made infinitely smaller by Drake’s large frame.

The silence gave Valentine a moment to reflect on the mixed emotions fighting for supremacy in his chest. Anger raged for the risk Miss Kendall had taken this evening. Fear held him rigid when he considered that he might have lost her tonight. Lust fought to override all else, for he wanted to pleasure her until she forgot about her sad memories, forgot that her brother was an imbecile. And hope emerged, hope that in doing so he might help himself, too.

“I see,” she said as if love were unobtainable. As if she had more chance of slipping through time to wake with her parents on that ill-fated morning.

“Do not sound so downhearted, Miss Kendall.” Drake straightened as the carriage rolled to a stop outside his house on Wimpole Street. “A woman with your intellect and beauty will have no problem finding a husband who ad

ores you to distraction.”

As if Valentine hadn’t enough to deal with, jealousy slithered through his veins. Miss Kendall was his. No other man would care for her as he did. No other man could converse with her on her favourite topics. Could he not quote Epictetus? Did they not share an understanding of the themes in modern literature?

“You are very kind, sir. But as Lord Valentine will tell you, few men are willing to take a wife who behaves so unconventionally.”

Valentine saw Drake’s huge grin through the reflection in the glass.

“You do not need a few men,” Drake said. “You only need one.”

Miss Kendall chuckled. After the trauma of the night’s events, it was music to Valentine’s ears.

“Good night, Miss Kendall.” Drake shifted to the edge of his seat, and the carriage swayed. “Few women would risk their lives for those they love. I believe your unconventional behaviour should be celebrated not mocked.”

“Thank you, Mr Drake. I shall treasure the compliment. Far too often I am made to feel like a fool. Rest assured, I shall send word to Mr Cassiel so he may attend your upcoming dinner party.”

“My dinner party? Oh, my dinner party.”

“Good night, Drake,” Valentine said, keen to get rid of him for there were a few things he wanted to say to Miss Kendall. “Give Juliet my warmest regards.”

Drake patted Valentine on the back. “Dariell was right. You have had a few surprises these last few days, and I suspect there are more to come.”

Drake alighted. He had barely reached the front door when it swung open, and Juliet rushed into his arms. They kissed on the doorstep—the doorstep of all places!

“They seem very much in love.” Miss Kendall’s soft voice drifted across the carriage.

“They are.”

Valentine opened the window and instructed Sprocket to head to Mount Street.

The carriage lurched forward.

Silence ensued.

Valentine struggled to think—there was a novelty.

The gruesome image of Aveline Kendall lying in a burgundy pool of blood entered his mind.

“You should have come to me before charging off to the Pit,” he said, his tone more subdued than when he had confronted her in Duck Lane. “My life flashed before my eyes when you pulled out the pocket pistol.”