designs machines and machine parts for Mr. Brent’s mills.”
“Yes, I do recall. She introduced me to him that first night.” Which now seemed about a hundred years ago. “The only thing he has designs on right now is Beatrice.”
The countess laughed and pulled him away from the window. “They are friends, Jess. They could have been well on the road to marriage long ago if either of them wanted it.”
The countess took a seat in front of a desk that was laden with objets d’art and not a single ledger or book. Jess leaned against the edge of the desk, too restless to sit down himself.
“It’s time for you to decide what you are going to do about this mess with Beatrice, Jess.”
He stiffened, even though he’d known that was what the countess had on her mind. “I am not a schoolboy who needs to be led through the moves on a chessboard.”
“This is not a game, Jessup Pennistan.” The sternness in her voice was resoundingly maternal. “You have compromised a young woman’s reputation.”
“Yes, yes, I have, to my great and lifelong regret.”
“Though I can guess it was a mutual effort.”
Jess could not believe those words had come out of the lady’s mouth.
“Beatrice’s curiosity about life, and now love, is the bane of her father’s existence. He might be more understanding of your situation than you think. He told me once that he found Beatrice attempting to run one of the devices at his first mill. It fouled the machine for hours and she nearly lost her hand, all because she was curious about how it worked.”
“I am going to offer for her.”
The countess closed her eyes and shook her head. “Of course you are. The girl deserves at least that show of respect.”
“We agree on that, my lady. I am going to find her father now.”
The countess stood up and made for the door. “Love makes fools of us all. For men like you, being a fool comes with serious complications.”
Her words hung in the room even after she left. Jess was going to find Brent as soon as he pulled his thoughts together, as soon as he found a way to word his offer as the apology it was.
Chapter Forty
BEFORE JESS COULD decide whether he should bow to Mr. Brent or offer to shake his hand, the door burst open and Destry and Cecilia exploded into the room, filling the space with excitement. More than excitement. Pure joy.
“We have been looking everywhere for you, my lord,” Cecilia said as she gave an artless curtsy and then hurried over to embrace him.
He was so taken aback he did not respond, but instead looked at Destry with “What the hell?” in his eyes.
“Yes, Cecilia has caught some of my impulsiveness,” Des said to him. To her he spoke with a voice of gentle, if somewhat sickening, affection. “Dearest, I think you are embarrassing Jess.”
With an expression of good-humored apology she stepped back and came to take Destry’s arm.
“Cecilia and I have come to an understanding.” He kissed her hand. “We wanted you to be the first to know that we are not engaged.”
Cecilia giggled and kissed Destry on the top of his head.
“Cecilia is going to stun society with her charm, good nature, and all-too-obvious beauty during the Season. Then, and only then, she will decide if I am worthy to be her husband.”
To Jess, blinded by their smiles, it looked like that choice was already made.
They beamed at each other.
“God help me. Will you two stop torturing me with your good humor?”
“We wanted you to be the first to know that we have no announcement to make.”
“Wonderful. I am very happy for you. Or should I say that I am not at all happy to hear your non-announcement. Now unless you can solve my problem, go away and leave me alone.”
“You have a problem?” Cecilia said.
“Of course, we can help.” Destry strode farther into the room.
Cecilia took Jess’s arm and led him to the sofa that the countess had just vacated. “Sit next to me and tell us all about it.”
What had he done? What could be more stupid than asking two lovesick fools how to make a proposal that was really an apology?
Destry wandered over to the window and peered out of it. “Who is Beatrice talking to?”
Cecilia rose from the sofa and joined him at the window, resting her hand on Destry’s shoulder. “Oh! Roger is back.”
Destry turned to look at Jess. “Aha, so he is your