Lady Be Reckless (Duke's Daughters #2)(59)

So it was clear that Bennett had no idea she would be here and was clearly horrified at the prospect. He shouldn’t have doubted his friend. But his confusing and admittedly physical relationship with Olivia had made him question everything. Including his best friend.

“You’re going to have to help me,” Bennett said, sounding desperate. “In such close quarters I won’t be able to maintain a distance from her. You’re going to have to distract her.”

Edward swallowed the delighted noise he felt bubbling in his chest, merely nodding in reply. “Of course. Whatever I can do.”

He suspected that Lady Olivia was not quite as determined as she had been to marry Bennett; if she was, then that put their kissing interludes into quite a different light, and he didn’t think she was that person. When she pursued something, she was intent and focused; she wouldn’t just dally with him casually. He knew that. What he didn’t know, what he’d have to discover, was how deep her feelings ran.

But now, at least, he knew that his best friend was definitely not interested in her in the same way Edward was.

“Thank you. I know you like her; it’s clear from how you look at one another. You rushed after her during that dinner at the duke’s house. What happened, anyway?”

He probably shouldn’t tell Bennett precisely what happened; Olivia’s sister was married to Bennett’s brother, and perhaps Bennett would insist that Edward do the right thing and propose.

“Uh, I just wanted to check on her. Her mother had just profoundly embarrassed her, and she’d already had a recent embarrassment,” he said, nodding toward Bennett to indicate he meant the rejected proposal. “And she is, or was, trying to help me. It felt like the right thing to do.”

And then there was the kiss, which was also the right thing to do. At the time, at least.

Bennett clapped a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “Of course you reacted that way. Just like you did when anyone was teased in school.”

Edward nodded, wishing he felt more honorable and less like rushing to her room at that very moment and kissing her senseless. Again.

“Well, I should go prepare myself for this visit.” Bennett winced as he spoke, and Edward realized just how ridiculous his concerns about his friend’s feelings were. He was beyond muddled.

“I will do my utmost to prevent a betrothal, or even a suspicion of one. I promise.” For myself as much as for you, Edward thought.



The good thing about her arrival was that he had momentarily forgotten his concern for his father, and his father’s health.

That concern was revived as soon as his father’s usual doctor came to see his patient.

Edward waited impatiently outside of his father’s door as the examination continued for close to an hour.

What could possibly be taking so long?

At last, the door opened, and Dr. Martin stepped out, his expression neutral.

“Well?” Edward said, not able to wait a moment for the man to begin speaking.

The doctor shifted his bag from one hand to the other, and Edward resisted the urge to grab him by the shoulders so he could shake the information from him.

“You should go speak to him,” Dr. Martin said slowly. “But it is my belief that the London doctor was incorrect in his diagnosis. Your father is ill, yes, but it isn’t something that will take him from you unexpectedly. He just needs time to rest, a much better diet, and I’ve written a prescription for some medications that will hasten his return to good health.”

The doctor tipped his hat to Edward, seemingly unaware that with just a few words he had lightened Edward’s heart so much that he wished now he could grab the man by his shoulders so he could kiss him.

He did not. “Thank you,” Edward called after the doctor, who was already hurrying down the stairs. He tapped on his father’s door, stepping inside without waiting for his father’s call to enter.

Mr. Beechcroft was lying in his bed, looking as tired as Edward had seen him.

“Ah, Edward!” Mr. Beechcroft said in a weary voice. “You’ve spoken to the doctor? You’ve heard?”

Edward came to sit on the edge of his father’s bed, taking his hand. He looked down at it, at the fingers that still managed to look as though they did manual labor, even though it had been years since his father had done anything like that himself.

“Yes, I spoke to him. It’s something else? Not something life threatening?”

Mr. Beechcroft grinned, his face lighting up despite his obvious fatigue. “That’s right! Dr. Bell, it seems, was over-hasty in predicting my demise.” He scowled. “But I will have to modify my diet, it seems. Gruel and such.”

Edward patted his father’s hand. “I don’t think it will be that drastic, Father. Cook will be able to make something that will be good for you and be tasty. And you’re going to have to rest, to hand over more of your day-to-day business to me.”

Mr. Beechcroft sighed in reluctant acceptance. “I suppose.” He peered at Edward, tightening his grip on his son’s hand. “I still want the same thing, though. Don’t think that just because I’m not going to die right away you can forget about what you promised.”

Edward raised his eyebrow at his father. Of course the consummate businessman would want him to honor a promise he made in a different situation.