Banished to Brighton by Sydney Jane Baily

Chapter Twenty-Two

Miss Talbot’s perfectlywondrous eyes opened wide in shock. Then she lifted her chin. “Lord Payton will accompany me back to your house.”

James nearly pushed the matter, following through with his threat to shut her out, but it would benefit him not a whit. Obviously, she would stay with Payton, and James would go mad with jealousy.

“Very well, but I’m not going directly home. I was only going to escort you there safely before going out for the night.” James was lying like a child, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted this engaged woman whom he didn’t trust, and he could see no way to have her.

“I won’t be back until morning.” He would enjoy a doxy that night and satiate all frustrations and desires. It was the only way he could live with Glynnis and not want to pounce on her every moment.

Without waiting to watch her walk away with Payton, he spun about and stumbled toward the blonde Cyprian. She was talking to another fellow, but he didn’t care. Grabbing her arm, he whispered in her ear an invitation for an exorbitant price. Anything so she would immediately walk with him. She did. She even leaned her head upon his shoulder and looked up at him adoringly.

He wished he knew her name, but it didn’t matter. It would be Glynnis he was thinking of when he thrust inside of the whore. It would be Glynnis’s name he roared when he climaxed.

***

GLYNNIS HADN’T FELTso miserable in a long time, maybe not since James had rebuffed her soundly in Lady Sullivan’s library.

He’d raged at her duplicity. It had been a pity since her desire for him had been real even then when she’d hardly known more about him than that he was wealthy and handsome.

Now, she knew much more, and she loved all she knew of him. Except his behavior that night! Her brother drank too much, another reason Rhys always lost at cards. She found nothing attractive or admirable in a foxed man whether he be merely a little wet or so drunk he was clipping the king’s English.

Tearing her gaze away from where James escorted a blowsabella through the south gate, she looked up at Lord Payton. He gave her a tentative smile before offering her his arm.

As they started to walk, he said, “Hargrove’s been under some strain lately. He had a bit of a mishap in London.”

At first Glynnis thought he meant the incident with her, but realized that was impossible. James hadn’t been sent to Paris to get the art for the prince until well after their kiss.

“A mishap?” she asked.

Lord Payton nodded but kept walking. They left by the closer north gate, giving them a longer walk along the front of the east side of the Pavilion and along the Steyne toward the sea.

She refused to let it go so easily.

“Will you tell me of the mishap, my lord?”

He sighed. “It’s not fit for a lady’s ears, Miss Talbot. Suffice it to say, he got in a spot of trouble with another man’s wife.”

She gasped softly, only because she’d come to think of James as being unusually reserved, even prim, in how he’d managed to stop himself from tupping her on more than one occasion. A married woman was safer for a rake, she supposed, as someone’s wife couldn’t force his hand into marriage.

“I see. Then he is better off with the woman he escorted from the party.”

That seemed to cheer Lord Payton up. “Yes, indeed. To tell you the truth, I thought the two of you ... That is, you and Hargrove have no arrangement?

“No. None at all. I am borrowing a room in his house and that is all,” she said firmly, wishing it weren’t the truth, but she may as well get credit for her still-sterling reputation.

“You needn’t worry what he’ll be like when he does return to his house. I know Hargrove. He will be apologetic for his boorish antics.”

“Thank you,” she said. Since her brother became, if anything, gentler when intoxicated, she hadn’t considered the alternative “I’m not worried in the least about that.”

Besides, he wouldn’t be back until morning. Her heart pinched at the thought of him spending the rest of the night with that harlot. Thinking of him returning tomorrow satiated and back to his old companionable self simply because he’d made the two-backed beast revolted her.

“I don’t suppose you have a suitable chaperone at your home, Lord Payton, and thus could allow me sanctuary there for a short while. I need a place to stay as funds from my family haven’t reached me yet. Lord Hargrove was providing such a place, but I no longer wish to remain under his protection.”

“I’m afraid I am a bachelor, Miss Talbot. If anyone else found out you were at Hargrove’s it would be bad enough, but if they thought you’d gone from his home to mine, it would be devastating to your reputation.”

Her cheeks heated. “Yes, I understand.”

She’d made her bed and now she had to lie in it.

Slowly, they went the rest of the way. Before leaving her on the doorstep, Lord Payton paused.

“I wonder if you would like to go to the racecourse with me tomorrow?”

She didn’t have to think twice. It was the first real invitation she’d had from a potential husband.

“Yes, I would.”

***

JAMES HADN’T EXACTLYpassed out, but he had certainly gone straight to sleep as soon as he’d stretched out on the Cyprian’s bed. Regardless of doing nothing more than slumbering for a few hours, when he awakened, he left money on her bedside table. She snored slightly, wearing nothing but the previous evening’s rouge, oblivious to his departure.

The streets were still quiet, except for the early-rising servants. Thus, no one who mattered saw his ignominious trek back home with his cravat in his pocket and his shirt half untucked, sticking out from under his waistcoat.

Feeling ashamed despite not having tupped the blowsabella, he couldn’t fathom why precisely. That was, until he stepped over his own threshold and realized the cause was the desirable, clever, lovely woman sleeping under his roof.

If he was going to do nothing with a woman, he would rather have been doing it with her. He couldn’t recall why he hadn’t taken her home. What had caused her to pull away from him?

Then he remembered the look on her sweet face and how Payton had come to her rescue.

Blast the man!Payton was no saint. Was he even then with Glynnis, either upstairs or at his own home on the other side of Brighton?

Taking the stairs two at a time, James couldn’t resist going to her bedroom door.

Pressing his ear to it, all was quiet. Still, he pushed it open a crack and peered inside. The curtains weren’t drawn and both of the sashes were open to catch the breeze. In the early morning light, he could see her head on the pillow, her lashes fanning her face, her hair unbraided.

His heart squeezed. Seeing her sleeping peacefully caught him with unexpected tenderness. He drew the door closed quietly. Today, when she awakened, he would apologize, and they would take the rest of the art to Prinny.

***

WHEN GLYNNIS HADN’Tappeared for breakfast, demonstrating the depth of her annoyance with him, he sent up a fully-laden breakfast tray as a sign of his remorse. While he noticed the maid carry it past the parlor to the kitchen a while later — quite empty — Glynnis hadn’t followed it downstairs to accept his apology.

Instead, promptly at one, there was a knock at his front door, and the butler admitted Payton, looking well-heeled in gray and white.

Mr. Sparks sent the maid up to inform Miss Talbot of his arrival, and James’s head felt ready to explode. Standing in the parlor doorway, the day’s mail in his hand, he stared grimly at Payton.

“What in the hell are you doing?” he demanded from his smiling friend.

“I’m collecting your beautiful houseguest to go to the horse-races after we take a ride around the town in my curricle. I’ve got lemonade and sandwiches.”

James new his expression was one of astonishment. Before he could say anything, or even wonder how Payton knew how much Glynnis enjoyed sandwiches, his friend gave a shake of his head.

“You made a muck of it last night, old chum. I know you like the fair-haired types, but compared to Miss Talbot, that piece of tail you staggered off with was as common as a barber’s chair.”

There was no time for James to retort since Glynnis appeared at the top of the stairs. Payton was right. She was breathtaking in a filmy, soft cotton gown of palest blue with a short, snug white over-bodice.

Smart white gloves and hat as well as the parasol he’d bought her completed her saucy outfit. He wanted to forbid her to go with Payton. He wanted to punch his friend in the nose for being so damned perfect and gentlemanly.

And for bringing sandwiches!

In the end, all James could do was gape as she descended the stairs, refusing to look at him. She smiled warmly at Payton, who nodded to him by way of farewell. Then he took her arm, and then they left.

James felt like the butler in his own home.

Fuming, he could hardly swallow the envy that stuck like a croquet ball in his throat. Either she hadn’t remembered her offer to help him convince the difficult prince, or she no longer cared to do so. Scrunching the mail in one hand, he considered his options. He could go to the racetrack on Whitehawk Hill, on the edge of the South Downs. There, he would sit on the grass or remain atop his horse as the old grandstand had long since burned down, and no one had built a new one yet. That didn’t stop hundreds from watching the races. They were extremely popular, and Prinny was almost always in attendance.

Prinny! If James didn’t hurry over to the Pavilion with the rest of the art, the prince would head over to the track, and another day would be lost. Hoping to catch him, he garnered the assistance of Mr. Sparks and the footman to load his coach with the remaining pieces.

Yet as he set out for the Pavilion, his hopes along with his spirits were low. Strangely, Prinny invited him upstairs to his private apartment and brought out barley water instead of wine.

“Good to take a break, don’t you think?”

James agreed with him. The cold barley water was mildly sweet and refreshing.

“The ice house is one of my favorite amenities,” Prince George said after James put the chilled glass to his forehead to stave off the last of his headache.

Feeling comfortable at last, he leaned back. About to close his eyes, he recalled he was in the presence of the next King of England, and thus, tried to sit up and look alert.

“Where is your Miss Talbot today?”

James shrugged. “She’s not my Miss Talbot, Your Highness.”

“Not to wonder after your chirping merry performance last night.”

James startled. “Whatever can you mean, sir?”

“You were trying to out-drink me. And Miss Talbot most definitely did not approve. What’s more, I noticed you left with Miss Maria, that scrumptious high-flier from Pall Mall. I cannot think why you bothered with her when she’s easily available in London. Miss Talbot seems a rarer chick-a-biddy, indeed.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Yes, what?” Prinny asked coyly.

“Yes, you’re right. I shouldn’t let a diamond fall through my fingers, certainly not for a shiny stone.”

“By the way, I’m over my fit of the blue devils regarding the Louvre, so you can stop worrying.”

James’s ears perked up, yet all he said was, “I am not worrying, Your Highness. I didn’t realize you were so upset. Your nature is to always be most calm and fair.”

Prinny laughed so hard, he turned purple.

“Then why have you been dancing attendance at every gathering?” He sipped his wine. “Maybe we’re back to Miss Talbot as the reason, eh, wot-wot?”

“In truth, sir, you know I wish only for you to be happy with the art.” Then James sighed. “Or tell me what the bloody hell to do with it.”

This time, they both laughed. Finally, Prinny yawned.

“I really don’t want anything I’ve seen so far.”

James’s heart sank.

“But I have good news for you,” Prince George continued. “Wellington wants all the Spanish paintings for Apsley House. In fact, he wanted them all along.”

James frowned. “You mean I didn’t have to bring them all this way?”

Prinny smiled, looking years younger than his age. He’d led James on a merry and cruel dance to be sure.

“I shall keep that vase you brought today. And you can take the rest back to our distinguished Wellington.”

James nodded, hoping his grin wasn’t too wide. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Will you come with me to the racecourse? There will be hurdle races today.”

His smile died thinking of Glynnis and Payton.

“No, Your Highness. I’m going to pack the art back into its crates.”

Prinny shook his head. “You’ve become like a fussy old woman. That can wait. Come with me.”

James heard the order in the prince’s tone. He would go and be tormented by his own longing.