sister and Millicent, made her way to the door. Jared stared after her, a satisfied grin growing on his face. Dripping with punch or not, apparently the boy liked what he saw.
This Miss White had made a favorable first impression, but futures were built on more than one night. And more than one test. Olivia glanced from her son to Cecily's retreating figure and back. The man still had that silly smile on his face. Olivia shook her head in disbelief.
One sometimes wondered if the question should be whether a young lady was good enough for her son, or if he was good enough for her.
----
Chapter Five
"You told me she was a bloody butcher's daughter!" Jared paced the length of the modest library, for once refusing to be soothed by the vague scent of leather and tobacco and all things solid and male.
"I thought she was," Quentin lounged in a wing chair in the well-appointed room that had obviously seen better days and idly swirled the brandy in the snifter in his hands. "Something like that, anyway."
Jared glared at his partner." 'Something like that'? Her father has a meatpacking empire. A virtual kingdom of cattle. That's a far cry from a butcher shop on the corner."
Quentin shrugged. "I don't see what difference it makes."
"I believe the difference can be measured in million," Jared said dryly.
"Congratulations." Quentin lifted his glass in a toast. "That solves all your problems."
"My problems are just beginning," Jared muttered.
"Really?" Quentin raised a curious brow. "I thought you needed an heiress. And you obviously like the girl."
"Like her?" He downed the last swallow of the liquor in his glass and strode to his desk, where the decanter beckoned like an amber lighthouse. Quickly he poured a second healthy draught of the pungent spirits and pulled another long draw. The brandy burned rich and satisfying, and he reveled in the strong, hard taste of it. "I more than like her."
Quentin jerked upright and stared. "Surely you're not saying what I think you're saying?"
Jared met his friend's gaze solemnly. "Love, Quentin, I am bloody in love."
"The world, as we know it. is at an end." Quentin laughed. "I never thought I would hear you utter that blasphemous word."
Jared smiled wryly. "Neither did I."
"Wait." Quentin cupped his ear with his hand. "Do you hear that?"
"What?"
"That sound." Quentin clasped his hand over his heart in an exaggerated gesture of dismay. "The sound of hearts breaking all over London. Perhaps throughout all of England itself." He slumped back in his chair and peered over the rim of his glass. "They'll be crying in their sherry when word of this gets out."
Jared snorted in derision and sank into the chair behind the mahogany desk. "I think, my friend, you overestimate my impact on the fair sex."
It was Quentin's turn to snort. "Hardly. Through the years, you've cut a rather wide swath through the ladies of this city and elsewhere. Both the sweet, young daughters of the best families as well as those, shall we say, somewhat less innocent but no less enchanting creatures of a more worldly persuasion."
Jared couldn't suppress an acknowledging grin. "I have had a good time of it."
Quentin nodded pointedly. "You clearly enjoyed being the second son with no expectations and fewer obligations."
Jared chuckled. "Ah, it was a difficult reputation to live up to, but I did my best. And, I must admit, it was not at all unpleasant. Now, however, I am the bearer of the title, with all the headaches that go along with it." He settled back in his chair and considered his friend thoughtfully. "You've never seemed particularly bothered by that position, and you're the lone son and heir of your family."
"Don't forget, old man. my father is a mere knight. There is no title involved here: all he can pass on to me is money." Quentin grinned. "Besides, we have an excellent arrangement. He expects very little from me and in return I do not sully the family name with scandal and disgrace."
"I can't
This Miss White had made a favorable first impression, but futures were built on more than one night. And more than one test. Olivia glanced from her son to Cecily's retreating figure and back. The man still had that silly smile on his face. Olivia shook her head in disbelief.
One sometimes wondered if the question should be whether a young lady was good enough for her son, or if he was good enough for her.
----
Chapter Five
"You told me she was a bloody butcher's daughter!" Jared paced the length of the modest library, for once refusing to be soothed by the vague scent of leather and tobacco and all things solid and male.
"I thought she was," Quentin lounged in a wing chair in the well-appointed room that had obviously seen better days and idly swirled the brandy in the snifter in his hands. "Something like that, anyway."
Jared glared at his partner." 'Something like that'? Her father has a meatpacking empire. A virtual kingdom of cattle. That's a far cry from a butcher shop on the corner."
Quentin shrugged. "I don't see what difference it makes."
"I believe the difference can be measured in million," Jared said dryly.
"Congratulations." Quentin lifted his glass in a toast. "That solves all your problems."
"My problems are just beginning," Jared muttered.
"Really?" Quentin raised a curious brow. "I thought you needed an heiress. And you obviously like the girl."
"Like her?" He downed the last swallow of the liquor in his glass and strode to his desk, where the decanter beckoned like an amber lighthouse. Quickly he poured a second healthy draught of the pungent spirits and pulled another long draw. The brandy burned rich and satisfying, and he reveled in the strong, hard taste of it. "I more than like her."
Quentin jerked upright and stared. "Surely you're not saying what I think you're saying?"
Jared met his friend's gaze solemnly. "Love, Quentin, I am bloody in love."
"The world, as we know it. is at an end." Quentin laughed. "I never thought I would hear you utter that blasphemous word."
Jared smiled wryly. "Neither did I."
"Wait." Quentin cupped his ear with his hand. "Do you hear that?"
"What?"
"That sound." Quentin clasped his hand over his heart in an exaggerated gesture of dismay. "The sound of hearts breaking all over London. Perhaps throughout all of England itself." He slumped back in his chair and peered over the rim of his glass. "They'll be crying in their sherry when word of this gets out."
Jared snorted in derision and sank into the chair behind the mahogany desk. "I think, my friend, you overestimate my impact on the fair sex."
It was Quentin's turn to snort. "Hardly. Through the years, you've cut a rather wide swath through the ladies of this city and elsewhere. Both the sweet, young daughters of the best families as well as those, shall we say, somewhat less innocent but no less enchanting creatures of a more worldly persuasion."
Jared couldn't suppress an acknowledging grin. "I have had a good time of it."
Quentin nodded pointedly. "You clearly enjoyed being the second son with no expectations and fewer obligations."
Jared chuckled. "Ah, it was a difficult reputation to live up to, but I did my best. And, I must admit, it was not at all unpleasant. Now, however, I am the bearer of the title, with all the headaches that go along with it." He settled back in his chair and considered his friend thoughtfully. "You've never seemed particularly bothered by that position, and you're the lone son and heir of your family."
"Don't forget, old man. my father is a mere knight. There is no title involved here: all he can pass on to me is money." Quentin grinned. "Besides, we have an excellent arrangement. He expects very little from me and in return I do not sully the family name with scandal and disgrace."
"I can't
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