The Lord and his Lady (Forbidden #2)

Chapter Twenty Two

Richard couldn't help the laugh that made its way out of him. She looked so earnest and innocent about the words that she uttered, it was too humourous to keep quiet.

The rage that had tore its way through all sensibilities and blinded him subsided; the only reason he could not act out as he had wanted to was because they were kids. There was no honour in giving young men of five and ten black and blue eyes. No indeed. Although his whole being would have liked to for hurting his younger brother.

The best he could do was make the topic a little less drastic and more lighthearted so Beau would not latch on to a topic that pained him.

"Still pining after Lady Harriet even in the face of rejection?" He wiggled his brows. "My, Beau, you are one adamant young man."

"And you are a rascal," came the retort.

"One must be if they have a brother such as you."

He groaned. "I knew telling you the truth of what had occurred was wrong. Never again will I share with you of my plans."

"Go ahead. I have Miss Price here to tell me everything."

She seemed uncomfortable, offering a tentative smile. "It was a mistake," she said. "If I ever find myself in such a situation, I'm running away."

"No, no, I employ you as my spy from now. Whenever it involves this brat," he said, gesturing to his brother who scowled at him, "everything must be reported back to me."

"Lady Harriet rejected me so there is nothing to report."

"She'll come back to you," offered Miss Price. "You have been friends for a long while, yes?" Beau eyed her apprehensively, pursing his lips before stiffly nodding. "Then if not romantically, she will return to you as a friend and you will get another chance to show her how much you care for her. Maybe in a way that is not..."

She waved her hands around, unable to find the right word. So he helped.

"Pushy?" coughed Lord Caldwell. "Beau is an impertinent hellion. Lady Harriet could not possibly come crawling back to the likes of him when her options are vast."

"Are you not supposed to be my brother?" he snapped. "Because it seems more like you are deliberately against me."

A tender smile split his lips. "My job as a brother is to dutifully make sure your ego is brought down, not up. Think about it—if I were to blindly encourage you with your feelings for Lady Harriet and if it were to go wrong, as it did, who would you choose to blame? Yourself, Lady Harriet or the person that encouraged you?"

Beau remained silent for a second. "I understand your point. It doesn't mean I like it."

"There is no reason for you to. It's merely how it is."

***

After mother's fluttering about Beau for the earlier incident, he was changed into evening dress by his valet before he retired to his study. Or that's what he had said, but he retired to his private room, the one where his amateurish paintings resided.

Not that he could fully concentrate on any of it. He hadn't touched his portraits in a long while and he had a sordid meeting with Lord Percival the next day. What was he supposed to say to that wrinkled prune without losing his own self control? He thought of the words he'd uttered to Beau in the coach; he was not a saint.

He blamed people and didn't take accountability. Especially in the matter regarding his father and Lord Percival, whom he secretly loathed for being the reason father had left that day in the first place. That much could be admitted.