Brandywine: Regency historical romance (The Brocade Series, Book 1) by Jackie Ivie Read Free Book Online Page A

cousin, Helen, was a fool.
    ***
    “You know, Gill…I heard the strangest tale yesterday. Wouldn’t you know, but the listening sent me post-haste out here to discover the veracity myself.”
    “I didn’t think loss of my company was enough to bring you all the way from London, Reg, but I’m grateful. You wouldn’t believe how grateful. Witherspoon? Would you see to fetching another bottle of brandy —“
    Reginald Dunston, third Marquis of Dunsberry and Gil’s best friend, stared in amazement as Gil appeared to breathe his spirits in rather than drink them. He didn’t think Gil would choke to death on a bit of brandy, but rose to assist. He was waved aside as Gil managed to get a breath. Reginald returned to his chair and regarded his friend for a bit before speaking again.
    “Brandy would be appreciated. Especially after that long drive. I’ll thank you in advance, my good man. A swig or two from your excellent cellar would be a perfect restorative.”
    Gil motioned Witherspoon off on the errand and Reg watched as he wiped at his cheeks. Nobody said anything for long moments. And then Reg spoke again.
    “Very well. I’ll just say it. You certainly seem miserable enough to be married to Helen.” 
    “Of course I’m married! You attended the nuptials, for Christ’s sake!”
    That outburst was impressive. Reg sat back with great satisfaction. Only marriage to that harlot could trigger such a vehement reaction. He’d known his wager wasn’t in jeopardy, but it was always good to check.  
    “I’m sorry to hear of your wedded bliss, but that does make me especially glad I came. I can’t wait to see Runyon’s face when I call for my wager.”
    “What wager?”
    “Well…it’s a bit of a misunderstanding, old chap, and I wouldn’t want you to take this wrong…”  Reg put an index finger under his cravat and pulled on it, making it easier to breathe while Gil glowered at him. “You being on your honeymoon and all. I…well, I wouldn’t want you to take offense.”
    “Blast it all, Reg. I’ve had a gullet-full of purported bliss and honeymooning. I’ve never seen you so cagey. What the hell did you wager and why should I even care about the answer?”
    “It’s nothing. Really. I have my answer and didn’t even have to ask. Only marriage to Helen Bingham could make you this…happy.”
    Gil choked on his swallow. Again. Reg wasn’t the only one watching with interest. Witherspoon had entered with a decanter and also waited as Gillian finished coughing. Then he spoke.
    “Begging your pardon, My Lord, but the French stuff is all gone. I took it upon myself to bring you the finest Scot whiskey. I hope I haven’t overstepped.”
    “I’m not surprised,” Reg replied, “what with the way you insist on inhaling the stuff rather than drinking it.”
    “Save your mirth, Reg. You’ll need it.” 
    Reg lifted his eyebrows at that information while Gil waved his butler out and wiped his eyes. He didn’t say anything as he poured a glass of whiskey and sniffed it appreciatively. He would’ve liked French brandy, but the state of affairs between the two countries was still tense. The price was more than he could afford. Actually, just about every luxury was beyond the range of his purse. His title came with land and responsibility, but ready cash was a dream. That was why he didn’t pressure Gil. It would be bad enough losing to Runyon without realizing he’d have to forego replacement of his cravats for another season.
    “You’ve a bet on my marriage to Helen, don’t you?” Gil asked.
    “Aye. With Runyon. But he’ll bet on which raindrop reaches the bottom of the sill faster. He told me the oddest thing. Something about Chaffin pipping you at the post, so to speak. Rumors of an elopement at Gretna Green with an heir already on the way. Nonsense like that.”
    “So that’s why she did it.”
    It was Reg’s turn to choke. It didn’t help that his friend just smiled and nodded until he