She did not want to hear any more of this. She had to, though. She had to exhibit some of the sense that her sister had lost.
“He is the only man Papa insisted we have nothing to do with. I fear you are just being difficult.”
“No,” Beatrice said. “At least I don’t think so.”
Cecilia could not think of what else to do or say to reach her sister. So she opted for the cold truth, even if she would sound like a prude. “Kissing Lord Jess was wrong and I am heartily disappointed in you, sister. You are behaving like a woman of easy virtue and if the countess finds out she will be very upset. I have no more to say to you right now.” She folded her arms and did not try to hide her anger at what felt like a betrayal.
“Ceci!” Beatrice stepped back as if the attack had been physical.
Cecilia wished that Darwell would come in and they could end this discussion. She felt like crying and could see tears in Beatrice’s eyes as well.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Beatrice spoke in a voice stiffened by the effort of holding on to control. “I am going to the art gallery and will leave you to count my sins in peace.”
With that, Beatrice left the room. But the hurt lingered in the air and Ceci sat on the edge of the sofa with a graceless thump, letting the tears fall. The sisters never argued and it was small comfort that Beatrice was as upset as she was. The idea that Beatrice might seek out Lord Jess for consolation made the tears disappear, and she was out the door a moment later to make sure that did not happen.
Chapter Nineteen
JESS WATCHED DESTRY toss back a brandy and pour himself another. Drinking recklessly was not Des’s style. Jess watched him drink the second one with equal disregard for the fine liquor it was.
Destry needed to talk, not drink, even though Jess knew exactly what the conversation would be about. Hell, he needed the distraction. The memory of kissing Beatrice was overwhelming even though it was, at best, a mistake in judgment and, at the worst, the first step toward deep and serious trouble. Pushing the issue as far out of his mind as he could, Jess moved the decanter up a shelf and away from Destry’s grasping hand.
“Give that bottle back to me!”
Destry tried to reach past him, but Jess merely stepped in his way and let an ineffectual punch land on his arm. The man was already foxed, Jess thought. How much had Destry had to drink before his performance?
No, he had been stone sober then. No one could juggle that well when drunk.
So he’d come to the game room and started in on the drink in the last hour. That was more than enough time for him to ruin the rest of his evening.
“You’re the last one to preach sobriety, Pennistan. Just last week I saw you drunker than five lords and demanding more!”
“In a gaming hell, Des. Not at a house party where ladies are present.”
“God, now you sound like a duenna.” Destry looked around. “The only lady here is Nora Kendrick, and her husband spent most of his life aboard a ship. She’s used to men who stagger.” He laughed at his own joke.
Des tumbled into a chair at one of the gaming tables. He tried to put his head in his hands, elbows propped on the table, but one elbow missed the edge and he almost hit his head, which would have done him no good at all.
He sat back and rubbed his forehead with both hands as though the headache had already started.
“It’s hopeless.” Destry’s flat voice was more convincing than the words.
“What is?” Jess sat in the nearest chair and played with the ivory counters, prepared to listen.
“Cecilia Brent will not even look at me, much less talk to me. Much less marry me.”
Jess made a face. “Are you not jumping ahead a little? There is something called courtship between talking and marriage.”
“Yes, yes.” Destry waved a hand in the air as if courtship and all the attendant formalities of a proposal were mere details. “Yes, but I can’t even start a courtship if she ignores me.”
“She was in front of the audience with you tonight. And judging by the scared-as-a-rabbit expression in her eyes, that was not a spot she enjoyed.”
“Yes, she was.” Destry brightened. “And you say she was