Hardly A Gentleman (2 page)

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Authors: Caylen McQueen

BOOK: Hardly A Gentleman
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“I would sooner die than let someone see me in a gown with such brazen ruffles!” Cynthia plucked the most ostentatious garment from her bed and hurled it at Margaret. “You, however…
you
could wear it. You rarely concern yourself with such trivial things. And you are, after all, Grandmama’s favorite. If you wore one of these offensive gowns to supper, I am sure she would be most pleased!”

As a slight frown tipped her lips, Margaret asked, “Are you supposing that fashion is less of a concern to me than it is to you?”

“No, Maggie! I meant no offense. I am merely suggesting that you are not as vain as I am, and therefore not as fastidious. I was complimenting you.”

“Hm. Right.” Skeptical Margaret sat on her bed and crossed her arms.

“I must say, I am very glad you are here,” Cynthia said. She sat beside her cousin and gently touched her hand. “I have been here for two days, and I was getting rather lonely. I need a companion my own age, and…”

When Cynthia failed to finish her thought, Margaret tilted her head and urged, “
And
?”

“And… there is a young gentleman of particular note, and I wish to get your opinion of him.” Cynthia’s mouth slipped into a grin as her thoughts turned amorous. “There is something undeniably special about him. He is quite possibly the kindest young man I have ever met.”

“Who is this man?” her cousin asked.

“Jacob Billingsley.”

It took Margaret a moment to recall where she had heard that name before. One could hardly fault her for failing to remember him. She had, after all, met him a year ago—and they only spoke to each other for a day. “I have met this young man before, and I only remember that he failed to impress. What is it you like about him?”

“He is handsome, gentle, attentive, and so very kind-hearted!” Cynthia happily sang his praises. “He might lack connections and property, but none of that would matter if I loved him… and I believe I
could
love him. If we were married, I would be the first of all of my friends to find a husband… and that includes you, Maggie, even though
you
are two years older than I am!”

“Are you truly considering
marriage
with this young man?”

“Perhaps. If nothing else, the thought amuses me, and I have enjoyed his attention.” Cynthia gave her chin a pondering stroke. “However, he mostly pays attention to our dear grandmama… although I can hardly imagine why he would. Why would a young man choose to squander his time with such an old woman? He must be afflicted with the most impenetrable ennui!”

“You are being unkind!” Margaret accused her. “Our grandmother is the most good-natured woman in the world, and we would be wise to follow her example.”

Cynthia answered with an unladylike snort, as if to say her cousin’s opinion meant little to her. Before either young lady could utter another word, they were called to the drawing room, where their grandmother awaited their company. Lydia Stapleton was confined to a Bath chair now, and her eyesight continued to fail her. When her granddaughters entered the room, she could only see them through an immense fog.

“My dears!” Lydia exclaimed. She opened her arms, and they took turns embracing her. “I cannot begin to tell you how delighted I am to have both of you with me!”


We
are the delighted ones,” Cynthia objected, which made Margaret roll her eyes. “How could we not be delighted by your company when we were blessed with the most delightful grandmother in the entire world!”

“I don’t know if I’m that, but I appreciate the sentiment.” Lydia turned her attention to Margaret and asked, “You remember Mr. Billingsley, dear?”

Margaret’s entire body jolted when she finally saw the young man in the room. She had somehow failed to notice him, even though he rose to his feet when they entered. Had Lydia not introduced him, Margaret would not have recognized him. Jacob Billingsley had aged significantly in a year. He was taller than Margaret now, and his face was more of a man’s than a boy’s. She was amazed at how quickly a boy could mature.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Berryton,” Jacob said, bowing as he spoke. “And you as well, Miss Prescott.”

“Li-likewise,” Margaret stammered. As she moved to the settee, she could not tear her gaze away from him. His appearance had changed so drastically, it was astounding. Even his clothes seemed less shabby.

Cynthia spoke next. “Mr. Billingsley… when I mentioned your name to Margaret, do you know what she said?” She paused for dramatic effect, smirking. “She said you failed to impress her! Can you believe that?”

“Cynthia!” Margaret hissed her cousin’s name. “That was not for you to repeat!”

“I am sorry to hear it.” In spite of Cynthia’s words, Jacob was smiling at Margaret. “She did, however, impress me. I have scarcely been able to purge her flaming red hair from my thoughts.”

Cynthia pursed her lips. Jacob’s words to her cousin were decidedly flirtatious, and she did not appreciate it. Not one bit. “And what of
my
hair, Mr. Billingsley? Does it fail to inspire?”

“Of course not, Miss Prescott! Your hair is so light and bright, it rivals sunshine.”

“You are too kind.” Cynthia could feel herself blushing, so she quickly looked away, feigning interest in the window. A sparrow sat beside the pane, lightly tapping the glass with his narrow beak.

“Jacob was reading a bit of Robinson Crusoe… one of my favorites, I daresay,” Lydia told them. “I invite you both to stay and listen.”

After flashing another smile at Margaret, Jacob turned his attention back to his book and read aloud: “
I found him by his blood staining the water, and by the help of a rope, which I slung around him…

Cynthia’s attention immediately expired, at which time she turned to her cousin and whispered, “isn’t he handsome?”

“I… suppose,” Margaret was loath to admit. “But he is
very
young. I prefer my men somewhat older and much more mature.”

“But he hardly lacks maturity!” Cynthia continued in a whisper, so as not to interfere with Jacob’s reading. “Did you know he visits Grandmama nearly every day? And he receives no compensation whatsoever. What do you think compels him toward such an act of charity?”

Margaret answered with an indolent shrug. “I could not possibly render a guess.”

“Whatever his reason may be, it is an exceedingly honorable thing to do.” As Cynthia watched his lips move, she sighed dreamily. “I adore him!”

“He is below your station, is he not?” As soon as the words were out of Margaret’s mouth, Cynthia glowered at her. “I do not mean to upset you. I am only being realistic. Your family is quite well-to-do, and the match would very likely be frowned upon.”

“I care not! I don’t want to be leg-shackled to some soulless, priggish lord. It is more important to find someone who excites you.” Cynthia clasped a hand over her heart, as if the thought of being Mrs. Jacob Billingsley was more than she could bear. “Mr. Billingsley could be that man.”

“As I said, he is very young. Would marriage be his desire?”

“He might be young, but so am I. If he thinks we’re too young to marry, I will offer him some encouragement.”

“Whatever do you mean, Cynthia?”

Cynthia did not give her a reply; she was too enthralled by the sight of her paramour to spare another thought for her cousin.

After Jacob finished reading, Lydia suggested a turn around the garden, and Cynthia could not fly from her seat quickly enough. Any excuse to spend more time with Mr. Billingsley was a good one, especially when their time together was so limited. Jacob pushed Lydia’s Bath chair through the hallway and into the garden, where the girls’ grandmother closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

“I visit the garden too infrequently. I can scarcely remember the last time I enjoyed a bit of fresh air.” As she spoke, Lydia smiled at her granddaughters, who stood on either side of her chair. “And it isn’t often that I get to enjoy such splendid company!”

“It is a shame I only see you once a year,” Margaret said with a sigh. “I hope you are not too lonely?”

“How could Grandmama be lonely when she has Mr. Billingsley to look after her?” Cynthia asked. “Does he not visit you nearly every day?”

“Indeed. I am fortunate to have him in my life.”


I
am the fortunate one,” protested the young man, who carefully steered her chair down the cobbled garden path.

“He is being kind, but truly, I have no idea why this lovely young man chooses to waste his time with this very old woman.”

“You are not old, Grandmama! You are still quite young!” Margaret’s words earned her a disapproving look from her cousin, whose nose was wrinkled quite unprettily.

“Why do you fill her head with such nonsense?” Cynthia hissed in her cousin’s ear. “She is
ancient
!”

When Jacob and Lydia were a bit further along the path, Margaret spun in Cynthia’s direction and said, “In a half a century,
you
will be ancient… but I doubt you will consider yourself so! No one wants to think they are old. Have a care, Cynthia! You were not speaking softly. What if she overheard you?”

“Or worse yet…” Cynthia seized her cousin’s arm and squeezed. “What if Mr. Billingsley overheard me? I would not want him to think I was being cruel to her! Oh dear…” After a moment’s hesitation, Cynthia plucked a nearby flower before chasing after Lydia. “Grandmama?”

If Lydia’s smile was any indication, she had not heard what her granddaughter said. “Yes, dear?”

“Your hair is very lovely. I have always thought so. It is quite the same shade as mine, but a bit darker, perhaps. Richer.” Cynthia slipped the plucked flower into her grandmother’s golden locks. “Now there is a daisy in your hair! Isn’t it very fetching, Mr. Billingsley?”

“Very much so. And Miss Prescott… your hair
is
very much the same as Mrs. Stapleton’s,” Jacob agreed, then he reached behind Cynthia and plucked a similar daisy. With a grin on his lips, he slipped the flower into Cynthia’s hair. “There. Now you are a perfect match!”

Dappled rouge flooded the young woman’s cheeks. Cynthia could feel her heart throbbing violently when Jacob stood so close to her, slyly toying with her hair. She wanted him even closer. Cynthia wrestled with an undeniable urge to have his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly.

Margaret, as she observed the scene, was afflicted by the most peculiar pang of jealousy. She very much preferred it when Jacob Billingsley was smiling at
her.
She carried her jealousy in her heart for the remainder of the day, and when Cynthia bid her goodnight, she did not utter a single word to her lovestruck cousin.

The very next day, Margaret chose to break her fast in solitude. She slathered more jam onto her bread than usual, and she stayed in her bed until nearly noon. Margaret hated to be a slugabed, and yet she did not possess the
willpower
to rise any sooner. She was plagued by thoughts of daisies and a particular fair-haired young man. If Cynthia was the type of young lady he preferred, Margaret was determined to think of him as a gentleman of very poor taste.

Margaret tried to banish her cousin from her mind; she was, after all, more interested in spending time with her sweet grandmama.
Lydia
was the reason she traveled to Devonshire—not Cynthia, and certainly not Jacob Billingsley!

When she finally left her bedchamber, Margaret went to the drawing room in search of her grandmother. However, Lydia was not in the drawing room—Cynthia and Jacob
were
. Margaret’s cousin was sitting beside him on the settee, lightly kissing Jacob’s lips.

“Cynthia!” Margaret shrieked her cousin’s name. “What on earth are you—”

“Oh dear…” Cynthia leapt from the settee and ran to Margaret’s side. In an instant, all traces of color had drained from Cynthia’s rosy cheeks. “I pray you…
please
do not breathe a word of this to our grandmother!”

“You were alone with him…
kissing
him?” Margaret shook her head with disgust. “These are not the actions of a lady, Cynthia!”

“I am aware of that, Maggie!” Cynthia was whimpering now. “Please,
please
do not utter a word of this. You won’t, will you? You are my friend, are you not?”

“And
you.
” Margaret turned her fury on Mr. Billingsley. “A truly good man does not take advantage of a young lady! I had doubted you were a gentleman, and now I know you are
not
!”

“Miss Berryton, I—” Jacob tried to speak in his defense, but he was interrupted.

“I’ll not breathe a word of this to Lydia, but know this: I am utterly and thoroughly disappointed in both of you! And I am sure Grandmother would be disappointed in you as well!”

“You are being unfair! It was only a kiss!” Cynthia wailed. When Margaret tried to flee, she took her cousin by the arm and exclaimed, “Your jealousy is so transparent!”

“Jealous? Of
you
? Of… of
him
?” Margaret turned up her nose at the idea. “Do not say such
ludicrous things, Cynthia!”

“I cannot think of another reason why you would be so appalled by my behavior! No one wants to spend time with
you
. No one cares to kiss
you
. You are cold and joyless and so very, very rigid!”

Cynthia’s shrieks were piercing Margaret’s ears, so she pulled her arm from her cousin’s grasp and turned away from her, sighing. “If you want this secret to remain between us, I would be careful not to insult me. After all, I could very well change my mind!”

“Miss Berryton…” Jacob rose from the settee as he attempted to address her again. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“I would rather take my leave,” Margaret said. “I assure you, I will say nothing to Lydia, Mr. Billingsley…” Her golden eyes flashed with rage as she stared at the young man. “I know my grandmother adores you, and I would not wish to disappoint her, so I will still my tongue. But I see you for what you really are, and if you take advantage of Cynthia again… next time, I may not be so kind.”

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