“I wager a guinea that Lord Destry will reach in and take one out to show her how innocent they are.”
It was just as well that neither accepted the other’s wager, as a moment later the newly arrived Cecilia walked over to the wooden cage and marveled at the contestants. As predicted, Des came hurrying along, almost running to stand beside her. She put her hands behind her back when he lifted a hen out for her to hold.
“A guinea that the chicken will nip Des when he tries to put it back.”
“Much too certain, my lord.”
“I am going to help whichever one of them needs help the most.” Jess gave a bow from the neck and left her laughing.
The chicken did nip Destry. Cecilia handed him a handkerchief to cover his wound, and then she walked toward Lord Jess, leaving Destry with his mouth gaping open.
Cecilia’s manner reminded Jess of his mother’s when she was disgusted with his behavior. Eventually he’d learned there was no point in trying to explain or apologize. His mother, the duchess, would decide when he was in her good graces again.
Destry was not yet in Miss Brent’s good graces. Clearly, while Cecilia’s temper might have dissipated it had not cooled completely.
“He will not stop apologizing,” she hissed to Jess, more distressed than annoyed with Destry.
They looked on as Destry sought out Beatrice, who took him by the arm and moved him beyond the racecourse nearer to the edge of the ha-ha.
Cecilia began to improvise both parts of her sister’s conversation.
“Stop apologizing to her, you imbecile.” She spoke in a breathy voice amazingly like her sister’s.
“But I am sorry.” Her manly imitation of Lord Destry was less perfect but all the more amusing for it.
“The more often you say it the less credible it is, you idiot.”
“Do you think so?”
“I know it’s true, you simpleton.”
“All right, if you think she will forgive me.”
“I never said that, you silly man.”
Jess wondered how many more innocent insults Cecilia could think up. He turned his back on Beatrice. It was the only way he could give her sister his full attention.
“Forgive him, Cecilia, and put us all out of our misery.” He waited until she looked away from Destry and directly at him. “You know he is in love with you.”
She shook her head, one sharp shake. “Nonsense. He is not in love with me. He is infatuated with my looks and has no respect for me as a person. That is not love.”
She had her back to Destry now, too.
“Look at him,” Jess said. “He is the last man in the world to judge by appearances. He has spent his whole life convincing people he is fully a man despite his lack of height.”
“He’s the heir to a dukedom,” Cecilia reminded him, obviously not at all inclined to sympathy. “The marquis does not have to convince anyone of anything.”
“He had to convince his family first and foremost.” Forgive me, Des, but desperate measures are called for. “He told me once”—he considered adding “when he was very drunk” but decided it wiser to skip that—“that when it was clear he was, despite his size, a healthy boy, his grandfather would take him riding almost every day the old duke was at Bendall Manor, their main estate. Those outings are how Des learned to ride like a madman, as his grandfather would challenge him to all sorts of races and jumps.”
“That’s easy enough to picture,” Cecilia said. “He loves a headlong gallop as much as anything else.”
“Indeed he does.” How often had she watched him? “One day his grandfather challenged him to take a jump that was quite impossible. Des almost tried it, just to prove he was a man, but then he realized that if he did not make it he would surely break his neck.”
Cecilia put her hand on her own neck, engrossed in the story.
“Destry said as much to his grandfather, who merely shrugged. In that moment, he told me, Destry realized that his death was exactly what his grandfather wanted.”
“His grandfather did not want him to inherit.” Her eyes were wide with shock.
“No.” In for a penny, in for a pound, Jess thought. “The old duke told him that he would rather have the title pass to his cousin than have Destry inherit.”
“Because he is so short?” Cecilia’s expression was incredulous. “For no other reason?”
“That’s right. I suspect he worried that Destry would taint the bloodline somehow. That all