Read Online Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness by Deb Marlowe - Free Book Online Page A

dead certain that he’ll not soon forget me.”
     
    Things were not going exactly as Brodham had planned. 
    For one, Peter was avoiding him.  They were living in the same house, for God’s sake, but they’d barely exchanged passing greetings in the hall.  His nephew was scarcely home at all.  He knew he wasn’t out wooing Miss Carmichael, for the girl’s social activities had been drastically cut.
    He’d expected that.  The unforeseen result, however, was that Miss Baylis had reduced her social schedule as well.  God’s teeth, would she ever cease to surprise him?  He’d thought he’d see her about.  That she would have the chance to rail prettily against him.  That he would have the chance to best her, to watch her color rise and her bosom lift and her countenance sparkle as she plotted and fought against him. 
    But it would appear that he’d made a tactical mistake.  He may have won the war, but damned if he didn’t miss engaging in battle.
    He tried to fill in the time preparing for his new role at Cateswood.  He studied the land management tomes in his library and spoke to his experienced friends about crop rotation, harvest schedules and tenant management.  Somehow all of his grand ideas had lost their shine.  He kept losing track of mangelwurzels, thinking instead of clear green eyes and sun-dappled skin and the soft press of pink lips.
    He gave up finally and went in search of Peter.  He wasn’t home, of course, but he eventually tracked him down at White’s.
    “Hiding out?”
    Peter grunted.
    “From me or from yourself?”
    His nephew closed his eyes and leaned his head back on his chair.  “Both.”
    The porter came around and Brodham sent him after drinks.
    “You’re going to have to tell her.”
    Silence reigned between them.  Quiet conversation and laughter carried on around them.  In the corner two men engaged in a low, furious political debate. 
    “I’m afraid.”
    Brodham barely heard the whispered confession.
    The porter returned with brandy.  They each took up a glass.
    “You know you don’t have to be,” he answered, almost as low.  “In your heart, you know it with a certainty, or you would not have let it get this far.”  Brodham tossed his drink back.  “I’ll only say this once, stripling, so listen close.  I loved my brother.  I did all I could for him.”  He leaned forward, awkward, but hoping Peter could see the love and pride he felt.  “But you are your own man.  You are intelligent, thoughtful and considerate.  I’m proud to have you as my nephew and my heir.”  He raised a brow.  “You haven’t been toying with Miss Carmichael’s affections?”
    “No!” Peter objected.
    “No, you have not,” he soothed.  “You are not going to hurt that lovely girl.  In any way.  It isn’t in you.  And I’m fairly certain that I can say the same about her.”
    Peter stared at him.  “You won’t mind, then?”
    “I’ve never been against you, lad.  I’ve only wished for you to slow down, to make sure.”  He narrowed his eyes.  “To do the right thing.”
    Peter sat up straight.  “I will.  And you’re right about her, at least.  I do trust her.  I’m going to tell her.”  He stood.  “And I’m going to marry her.”
    Brodham nodded.  “Get on with it, lad.”
    His nephew shot him a speaking look of gratitude and left.
    He poured another drink.  Those two would be fine now, he knew.  They would go into this marriage with eyes and hearts open.
    He sighed.  And Liberty Baylis would think she had won.  He wondered if he’d ever see her again, if he’d ever get the chance to fully explain, to test his mettle against her fun, flirty, appealing ways.
    A bleak hollow formed in his gut at the thought that he might not.
    “I say, was that Gardiner?  I hate that I missed him.”
    He glanced up at the man who’d paused by his chair.
    “Brodham!” the gentleman exclaimed.  “It is you!  Didn’t know you were back