Belle's Beau by Gayle Buck

Author:Gayle Buck [Buck, Gayle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 2000-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Lord Ashdon was not surprised when his cousin came to call on him the following morning. Since he was an early riser and did not spend a great deal of time on his wardrobe, he was nearly fully attired, in a white shirt, waistcoat, and pantaloons, before Roland sent in his card. The viscount was in the process of pulling on his gleaming Hessians when his guest was shown in.

Lord Ashdon stood up, stamping his stockinged feet firmly into his boots, and looked unsmilingly at his cousin. "Well, Roland? You surprise me."

Roland blinked at the trim, well-muscled figure before him. "My word, Adam. You would display to advantage at Jackson's."

Lord Ashdon took the blue frock coat that his valet was holding out and shrugged into it. "No doubt. You have not stirred yourself at such an early hour to discuss pugilistics with me, though, have you?"

"No, I—" Roland was so appalled by his cousin's ability to get into his coat without assistance that his thoughts were entirely diverted from his purpose. "I say, Adam, you really should have your coats cut by Weston."

"Spare me, Roland. Your aunt has been telling me ever since I set foot in the house that I should stop using Schultz," said Lord Ashdon with a small smile. He gestured for the valet to leave them.

Roland showed a tinge of alarm. "I had hoped not to disturb my dear aunt with my visit," he said hastily, throwing a glance at the retreating valet.

"Rest easy, cousin. I am not sending word of your arrival to her ladyship. My mother is still abed and will be until noon," said Lord Ashdon. His smile grew a little wider. "Now that I think about it, Roland, you are very much like her."

Roland was momentarily bereft of speech. He cleared his throat. "I see what it is, Ashdon. You are punishing me a little with these barbs. Well, I deserve it, and probably worse."

Lord Ashdon leaned a shoulder against one of the massive bedposts and crossed his arms over his wide chest. He was no longer smiling as he looked steadily at his cousin. "I am delighted that you are aware of that fact," he said.

Under that unblinking, considering regard, Roland felt that his neckcloth was becoming too tight and put up one finger to loosen its folds. "You must be aware why I have come, Ashdon."

"Why don't you tell me?" invited Lord Ashdon without change of expression.

Roland felt a spurt of irritation. "I've come to apologize, as you very well know! I should never have taken Belle— Miss Weatherstone—to that blasted masquerade. I know that. I am heartily sorry for it!"

"You knew it was wrong yesterday, Roland." Lord Ashdon straightened and took a slow step forward, and another. "You even asked for my advice, which I freely gave."

Roland eyed his cousin's advance with unease. "Quite right." He threw back his shoulders. "All right, then! Hit me, Adam. Go on, get it over with! I know that I deserve it!"

Lord Ashdon stared at him in astonishment, then burst out laughing.

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