A Perfect Gentleman Read Free

friends to pay his artiste of a tailor. Viscount Wellstone rescued him.
    Capt. Daniel Brisbane had been a schoolmate of Stony’s. Now he was returned from the army with a permanent limp, no career, and no hope but the salvation found in a bottle. Stony rescued him, too.
    What female would not be thrilled with the attentions of a duke’s offspring, a retired hero, and a handsome viscount? So what if Captain Brisbane could not dance and was not much for small talk or flattery? So what if Lord Charles was a mere second son with a weak chin and weaker fashion sense? So what if Lord Wellstone was below hatches, and a confirmed bachelor besides? Together they meant a girl always had a presentable partner for supper, an attractive, attentive afternoon caller, an enviable companion to whichever event her father’s gout prevented him from attending.
    She had an escort.
    She was a success.
    So was Stony.
    Soon he would have Wellstone Park restored to its self-sufficient, income-producing prosperity. Soon he would have enough funds to establish a horse-breeding program, or a small shipyard on the Norfolk coast. Soon he could give Gwen the widow’s portion she was due, and pray she used it for a dowry. After one more spring Season, he calculated, he’d be done with debutantes, finished with wallflowers, out of the escort business once and for all. When he reached the age of thirty, he would leave London with no regrets. But first….
    *
    “What do you mean, you have compromised Earl Patten’s daughter?”
    Neckcloth untied, coat unbuttoned, Stony was in his study going over the account books one last time before heading to bed and pleasant dreams. Then this nightmare walked in. Captain Brisbane’s hand was shaking too much to pour the wine from the decanter on the viscount’s desk. Stony took the bottle and filled the glass—then drank it down himself. “Damnation,” he said, “you were supposed to dance with the girl, by Zeus, not destroy her reputation!”
    The half-pay officer sank into the facing chair without waiting for an invitation. “She said she felt ill. I led her toward an empty room, thinking to go fetch her mother, our hostess, or a maid. Anyone. What did I know about women’s ailments? But somehow when we reached the room and I steered her toward the couch, she fell against me. And my bad leg, you know.”
    “No, I do not know how your bad leg could have ripped her gown, dash it!”
    “Well, it collapsed, and we fell to the couch. I tried to grab for the table, only I seem to have caught the lace at her bodice on the button of my coat and there was this awful sound and she screamed, and then her mother and half the guests ran in, and her father, Earl Patten, started shouting. And—”
    “And you are betrothed. I wish you well. The lady might be a bit vaporish, but her handsome dowry ought to provide proper medical—”
    “No.”
    Stony shook his head. The brandy could not have addled his wits so quickly. “No…what?”
    Brisbane studied his shoes. “No, I will not marry the earl’s daughter.”
    “But you’re a gentleman, by all that’s holy!”
    “Who is going to marry the woman I love, on my honor.”
    “On your honor? Honor demands you marry— What is her name anyway?”
    “Lady Valentina Pattendale. That is the family name.”
    “Right. Well, you have ruined the girl. She’ll likely want to be wed on St. Valentine’s Day, so you have nearly a year to grow fond of her.”
    “You do not understand. I love another. I am promised to her.”
    Stony poured another glass. This time he remembered to pour one for his guest. “And you never thought to mention the young lady to me?”
    “What for? I cannot afford to marry her yet, so nothing is official. Her guardian disapproves.”
    The viscount let out a sigh of relief. “Well, there you have it. No notice in the papers, no ring on her finger. No, you are Lady Valentina’s, all right and tight.”
    “No.”
    “Deuce take it, someone has