them than friendship. Or could be.” Jess wondered if Destry might be talking with Mr. Brent right now.
“I didn’t hear about that. Is that why the race took so long?”
“No,” Jess said. “Destry explained it all to me. Before they found Crenshaw they were at a standstill because each intended for the other to win.”
Garrett laughed, a sincere laugh. “It sounds as though the only person Destry must now convince is Cecilia’s father. I expect that will be a fairly easy conversation. Surely the absurdity of his sidesaddle ride has faded in the light of all that has followed. And the man will be a duke someday.”
“That sounds convincing. How about if you speak for me when Brent arrives?”
“I think not, brother.” Garrett shook his head slowly but with conviction.
“So,” Jess began, returning to his own personal headache. “I do not have to offer for Beatrice Brent simply because we spent an hour alone together and I touched her intimately.”
Garrett pursed his lips but managed to restrain any comment.
“To walk away from her is in keeping with my general reputation for avoiding responsibility of any kind.” But it felt all wrong. He shrugged. “If I thought Beatrice and I could make a marriage of convenience and then live separate lives it might work, but she is so damn curious about every little thing, I have this unholy picture of her as queen of every gaming hell from here to London within the year.”
“Why does that bother you? It’s been your life’s work.”
Garrett could hit with true aim when he wanted to. “It bothers me because she is a terrible gamer and I would spend all my time making money to cover her losses.”
“So why not stop making wagers on cards and find something else on which to gamble?”
“What the hell does that mean?” Jess turned away from Garrett, uncomfortable with the direction of their conversation.
Garrett came over to stand closer to him.
“Your brother David is taking a huge chance on his cotton mill. It opened last month.”
“David spent years lost in Mexico. He is hardly a model for conventional living.” There was that word again. Now that he thought about it none of the Pennistans were conventional.
“I’m not suggesting that you go into partnership with him, but he has set a precedent for a Pennistan going into business.”
“So you think I should let her return to Birmingham when her father’s aim has been to raise his daughter’s position in society?”
Garrett laughed and then coughed to cover it. “Yes, after all, what level are you going to raise her to? At least her father makes some contribution to the world. Jess, not to put too fine a point on it, but Olivia contributes more to the world than you do.”
Jess felt his face redden. What did it say about his life that this confidant thought he was wasting it?
“Think about it awhile.” Garrett put a hand on Jess’s shoulder and Jess felt some of his embarrassment ease. “Think about why making a change in order to save Beatrice from a gaming hell matters to you.”
He didn’t want to, because it would mean that he loved her. Why should the truth hurt so much?
“Think about taking a chance on something bigger than the turn of a card.”
He had no idea what that could be. Was there any point in trying to talk to David about it?
“Brent will not come to you this evening. He will see you in the morning when both the countess and I hope that cooler heads will prevail.”
“Why did you not tell me that when you came into the room?”
“I wanted to hear your thoughts on the subject when you were under pressure. There is so much less opportunity to prevaricate.”
“Your life as a spy bleeds through, Michael.”
“Yes, the experience does have its uses.”
“I HAVE HEARD the story from the countess. Beatrice, you have disgraced yourself beyond all imagining.” Her father towered over her, his anger only adding to his stature. Her own upset made her feel as though she were shriveling before his eyes.
“I am sorry, Papa, but I could not allow Lord Jessup to lie to protect me.”
“And why not?”
“Because he might have been accused of murder. Is that not obvious?”
“Do not talk to me that way or I will take a switch to you. Something I should have done a long time ago.”
“Papa, please,” Cecilia began.
He raised his hand in a familiar “say no more” gesture. “Leave the room, Cecilia. Your sister does not need