Tenacious Trents 01 - A Misguided Lord (3 page)

“
Wife?”

“
Yes, Lord
Bentley.”

Clayton strode to the parlor. What was
John doing here now? Unless Jordan or Matthew had managed to get
married without telling him.

He stepped inside the room. John, his
youngest brother lounged in a chair beside the fire, cradling a
glass of brandy. His beautiful bride of three months sat in the
opposite seat. She bit her lip and watched him expectantly with her
large blue eyes. He could see why John had been taken with
Elizabeth Whitton. Though he still did not know the particulars,
John had managed to marry into an influential and wealthy family.
There were few with as much power as the Duke of Danby.

“
I was wondering if you
were ever going to bother speaking to me again,” Clayton asked. The
two had not spoken in over four years. Not since John went off to
the Continent to do who knows what. John had managed to see father
before he died, and came to the funeral, but the two brothers had
not spoken. His wife had not accompanied John to the house and this
was the first time Clay had actually seen her.

“
My wife insisted and is
much put out with me.”

Clayton snorted. “You haven’t been
married all that long and already you are in trouble.”

John grinned at him. “She doesn’t stay
angry long.”

“
Are you going to bother to
introduce us?” Really, had John lost all civility and manners
jaunting around France, Italy and Spain?

“
Elizabeth, I would like to
introduce you to my brother, Clayton Trent, the Earl of
Bentley.”

She stood, a slight blush coming to
her cheeks and dipped into a quick curtsy. “It is a pleasure to
finally meet you.”

Even if his brother lacked any form of
respectability, Clayton did not. He bowed before her. “Welcome to
the family.”

She settled back into her seat, looked
over at John and narrowed her eyes. He sighed and stood. “My wife
believes I owe you an apology.”

Clayton took a step back. John owed
him, and the family, much more for disappearing and causing their
step-mother and their father to worry for the past four
years.

John walked to the sideboard and
poured a glass of brandy before he handed it to Clayton. “Here,
have a seat. You may need it.”

Clayton took the glass and a deep
breath and did as John suggested. Who knew what his wayward brother
had been up to since they last spoke.

“
The reason I went to
France is not what you think,” John began.

“
I knew there was a duel
involved.” Clay shook his head in disapproval. “Father must have
kept it quiet.”

John stood and slammed his glass down.
“I told you he wouldn’t listen. Always judging. Just like Father.
Sanctimonious pr—.”

“
Jean.”

Clayton focused on Elizabeth. How did
she just address his brother?

“
Everything is black and
white to you, isn’t it? Did it ever occur to you that things may
not be as they seem? That there may be something else going on of
which you are not aware? That people are not good or bad, but could
be a little of both?”

“
Never mind.” Clay stood.
“I am too tired and don’t wish to repeat the same arguments. For
the record, things and people are exactly as they seem and you are
far more trusting than I.”

“
Please.” Elizabeth stood.
“Let him explain.”

Clayton sighed. It was not well done
of him to raise his voice in the presence of John’s
wife.

John took a deep breath. “I would
appreciate it if you would let me explain without comment. When I
am finished, feel free to point out my failures. As father is gone,
someone must, and you are so like him.”

Those words stung. Clay didn’t want to
be like his father, but the man had trained him to be the earl, to
take over the family and know his duty. He didn’t like being so
cold or judgmental, yet that was the only way to manage the estates
and everything around him. Emotional involvement and relationships,
especially with women, lead to strife. And, he had the scars,
inside and out, to prove it. Father had taught him well.

“
Very well.” Clayton vowed
to hold his tongue until his brother was finished. If anything, it
would probably be interesting. As trouble followed John most of his
life, or John found trouble, no doubt the past four years had been
eventful. “Go on.” They both settled back into their
seats.

“
I was sent to France by
the Home Office.”

Clayton sat forward.
“Pardon?”

“
The Home Office,” John
repeated. “While visiting with a friend, who for obvious reasons I
can’t name, I helped him with a puzzle. It turned out to be a code
that he was struggling with.”

Clayton sipped the warm liquid, his
interest engaged. John had always been good with figuring out the
impossible.

“
The Home Office learned I
unraveled the code. They reviewed my school transcripts and found
out I am good with languages and asked me to come work for
them.”

Clayton looked from John to Elizabeth
and back again. Could he believe him? Yet, John had never lied to
him before. As much as they disagreed and hadn’t gotten along, his
brother was truthful. “Did Father know?”

“
I told him after I
returned.” John took a drink. “He and Rose knew before he
died.”

“
Did he forgive you for not
telling him?”

John chuckled.
“Reluctantly.”

“
I am assuming you are done
with this, whatever it was you were doing.” He gestured about, not
sure if he should actually use the word spy since John had not
admitted to exactly what he was doing. His brother had a wife now
and needed to be more responsible and what he had been doing was
far too dangerous for a man with responsibilities.

John and his wife shared a
look.

“
Actually,” Elizabeth
began, and then paused for a moment. “I am asking you not to tell
anyone what we are sharing with you.”

“
Of course.” If anything,
Clay kept secrets.

“
And we are not
done.”

“
We?” Surely this lovely
woman wasn’t a spy as well. She was the granddaughter of the Duke
of Danby. Someone with such high connections did not become a spy,
especially a lady.

John laughed. “I hope I can remember
this look on your face.”

“
You have to admit, it is a
bit hard to believe,” Clay insisted.

“
It is,” Elizabeth
agreed.

The import of what John was telling
him began to sink in and Clay drained his glass and stood to refill
it. “Can you divulge where you were, what you were doing, and how
you met your wife?”

“
Only because I know you
will never tell.” The brothers’ eyes met and held for a moment.
They may have not gotten along most of their lives but they did
trust the other enough to hold a confidence and protect each
other.

Clay poured more brandy into his glass
than normal and returned to his seat.

“
I worked in the stables at
Tuileries.”

The liquid burned his throat when he
coughed. Leave it to John to wait for the perfect moment to tell
him this bit of information. “As in Napoleon’s palace?”

His brother grinned. “The very one,
for the past three years.”

Clay’s mind couldn’t grasp what his
brother was telling him. It was too unbelievable. “How did you meet
your wife?”

“
I was a house
maid.”

“
At Tuileries?” Clay asked
slowly.

“
Yes. For two
years.”

His mind was reeling. Perhaps he
should stop drinking and focus on his brother. Was this a
joke?

“
Shortly before Christmas
we were discovered and Lisette and I had to escape
France.”

“
Lisette?”

Elizabeth grinned and
shrugged.

“
And you?”

“
Jean Pierre.”

The chuckle bubbled up. He hadn’t
laughed in a very long time. “I would have loved to have seen you
taking orders and mucking out stalls.”

“
I am sure you would,” John
answered dryly.

Elizabeth cleared her throat and John
sighed deeply. “I also have another apology.”

What now? What else could
there be?

“
I told Elizabeth about our
family.”

Clayton stiffened. Surely he didn’t
mention their other step-mother and first sister. That was a
scandal not to be mentioned ever. Nobody knew the woman had been
running away from her husband when they were killed.

“
I told her I had two
brothers and one sister.”

“
You have
three
brothers.”

“
I know. But, your last
words to me before I left were that I was dead to you. So, you were
dead to me.”

Clayton remembered yelling those words
at John as he marched out the door to go play in Europe. He
regretted them in the days to follow, not that he ever admitted it
to anyone. “I am sorry.”

“
So am I.” John glanced at
his wife for but a moment before he focused back on Clay. “But, it
helped. When I wondered what the hell I was doing, during some of
the more dangerous times, I remembered your words, your tone, and
became angry again. I needed to prove to you, to Father and to
myself that I was not an incompetent, useless son.”

That is what Father had bellowed to
John’s retreating back that last day. If only they had known the
truth then.

“
I am glad you are home, at
least for now.” In that he was sincere. Until this moment he had
not realized how much he missed having John around, even if they
didn’t get on well. But he couldn’t fault him for what he had been
doing. “Will you be staying in London? There is plenty of room
here.”

“
No.” John shook his head.
“We will attend a few balls this week but then we are returning to
the country. Do you mind if we reside at Bentley Manor until we are
sent somewhere else?”

“
You are welcome to stay
anywhere. It is your home as well.” A pang of disappointment struck
Clay. It would have been nice to have John and Elizabeth around for
a bit. Maybe now that they had both matured, and he knew the truth
of what his brother had been up to, their relationship wouldn’t be
so strained. Besides, this town home was quiet and lonely. Jordan
kept to his bachelor apartments, even though he could stay here,
and Matthew was traveling until his duties as a vicar in a new
parish begin.

“
So, now that you are head
of the family, what are you going to do?”

Unfortunately, John reminded him of
the one problem still hanging over his head and one that needed to
be dealt with, if he could find the right person. “Find a wife, I
suppose.”

“
Have you met the paragon
who will become your countess?” John asked with a grin.

The vision of the young woman who
bumped into him flashed through Clay’s mind. He could almost smell
her sweet scent. He blocked the image and concentrated on Lady
Anne. He already knew her character, or thought he did, and she was
everything he wanted. “I am considering courting Lady Anne
Houghton.”

“
We made her acquaintance
earlier in the week.” John nodded. “She is lovely.”

Her appearance is not what mattered.
“She is quiet, dutiful to her parents and unassuming. Those are the
qualities I am looking for.”

John raised an eyebrow. He should have
known his younger brother wouldn’t understand. He had married a
spy. But, he also didn’t have the same responsibilities on his
shoulders. Clay couldn’t afford to follow his heart, if he even had
one any longer. No, he must decide on a wife the way he did when
making all decisions. What is best for the family and earldom is
the only thing that matters. And a woman who smelled of springtime
and laughed easily was not it.

Clayton glanced down at Lady Anne and
tried to convince himself she would make the perfect wife. So far,
she had spoken only when spoken to or to answer a question. Her
eyes were fixed ahead as they walked through Hyde Park, gloved hand
resting lightly on his arm. Her appearance was perfection from her
golden curls, to the unblemished, porcelain complexion. Even the
wind today didn’t muss her hair, as if it didn’t dare touch her
lovely skin or rearrange a cascading curl.

What else could he ask her? They had
already discussed the weather, her favorite flavor of ice at
Gunter’s, and what books she read, which turned out to be none
since she left the schoolroom. “Are you enjoying this
Season?”

“
Yes, thank you.” She
tilted her head and looked up at him. “And are you, Lord
Bentley?”

“
I find it tiring,” Clay
admitted. “I much prefer the country, but Parliament requires me to
be here.”

Lady Anne nodded and fixed her gaze
forward.

He should be pleased. This is the type
of woman his father repeatedly told him to look for in a wife. But
surely he hadn’t meant the lady should lack all personality. His
step-mother, Rose, had all the qualities a gentleman could want but
she could also carry on a conversation. What would life in the
country be like with Lady Anne? Clayton inwardly groaned. Probably
As quiet as it is now.