part of Michael Garrett’s life for too long, so he gave the village vicar the opening he needed, did not defend himself, and let Michael floor him with a swing that had heat if not power.
“Thinking about suicide, are you?” Michael was panting, more in anger, Jess suspected, than exertion. “You cabbage-headed fool.”
Garrett pulled Jess off the floor, dropped him onto the sofa, and towered over him. “You Pennistans are all idiots when it comes to love. Every one of you except Olivia, who knew what she wanted and near had me killed before she was done.” That gave him pause. “Of course, it could be that it’s not just Pennistans but men in general.” Garrett sat in the wingback chair that was at a right angle to the sofa and thought for a moment.
“That would mean Destry’s the exception that proves the rule,” Jess suggested.
“William is the exception to almost every rule,” Garrett said, and Jess had to laugh.
“He surely knew he wanted Cecilia straight off and no one was going to deny him.”
“And when did you know that Beatrice was what you wanted?”
Jess pulled himself up on the sofa, put his booted feet on the floor and wished for drink. Instead he put his head in his hands. “When Des and Cecilia came in. Who knew that lovesickness was contagious?” He wiped his face and looked at Garrett, whose expression all but shouted “Liar!”
“Or when I saw her with that man who works for her father an hour ago. Out the window over there.” He gestured with his chin.
Now Jess smiled. He could not help it. He knew. If he was being totally honest, he knew. “Not the first time I saw her. That just lit the fuse. It was a long fuse but it burned very fast. It was not when I stepped on her spectacles, not when we trooped through the secret passage or flirted our way through dinner.” His memory was amazingly good with cards but apparently even better where Beatrice Brent was concerned.
“I knew when I kissed her the first time,” he admitted, thinking about the way she had touched her tongue to his mouth. The complete trust of her kiss, the truest gift of her heart. “The way she made me feel complete.”
“Thank God, Jess, and welcome to the club.” Garrett tilted his head back and closed his eyes, as if what had just transpired had been as much work for him as honesty had been for Jess.
“But—” Jess began, and this time Garrett interrupted him.
“You are not the wrong person for her. Listen to me. She is the right person for you. You are not going to ruin her, she is going to be the making of you.”
He heard Garrett’s words from the service. You can change now, tomorrow, next week, or at the point of death. Why wait?
“Believe me when I tell you that with Beatrice by your side even the old experiences will be new.”
Making love, for one, Jess thought, suddenly restless with wanting.
“Now all you have to do is convince her father that you are the man for his daughter.”
Jess suffered a moment of panic, and then smiled. “I think I know a way to do that.”
Chapter Forty-one
“AN INTERESTING PROPOSAL, my lord.” Abel Brent rubbed his chin. “Almost as interesting as realizing that you have some brains in that head of yours.”
Jess swallowed the insult and waited, wondering if he should admit it was all Cecilia’s idea. Hell, no. It might have been her idea but he was the one who had brains enough to see it as a viable business idea.
The silence between them stretched. Finally Brent began to nod, as though he was almost convinced. “The idea of controlling a fuel source is new to me. I’d thought of investing in a ship but your suggestion expands that concept and opens up other opportunities.” Brent leaned back in his chair. “Mr. Garrett and his wife took me aside this afternoon and told me the truth about Crenshaw’s divorce.”
Just could not let me handle this myself, could you two? That’s what families did, he guessed. He would call it meddling. They would respond, “For your own good.”
“It does not change my disgust with you for taking advantage of my daughter. I know she can be provocative but I would have thought you were worldly enough to resist that particular temptation.”
“I thought so, too, Mr. Brent. We were both wrong. Beatrice is an amazing woman, curious and inquisitive, generous