A Taste of Honey (8 page)

He now felt that it was time to move on as everyone had been telling him to do for many years.  Perhaps his friend, Kent, was right.  After Amelia, he had just needed a fresh woman to warm his thoughts.  It was now time for him to forget his past and focus on his future.

Garrett wanted to believe that any woman he found would help him forget his pain with Amelia, but a lurking suspicion caught him by surprise.  A part of him knew that it had been something about the girl last night that had changed everything.  She had kissed him back, and her shy awareness spoke to him, left him feeling vulnerable yet stronger at the same time.  He had felt an urge to protect her even though he did not know what she needed protecting from.

Rather than stay in bed, unable to sleep, Garrett packed his small bag and left the inn that he had been staying at.  He had not intended to stay in London for very long and so had packed for only a few nights.  Now he might be there much longer than he had planned.  If he intended to find the girl that he had kissed the other night he would have to scour many parties and dances to search for her.  He would likely be stuck in town for much of the season.  The truth was that despite these efforts, he might never find her.  But the honeyed-tea taste lingered on his lips, and he knew that it was worth a try. 

Garrett had some acquaintances to meet up with in London before he could devote his time to the search for the slim girl who wore a purple velvet robe and had fit perfectly in his arms, so he left early to get his visits out of the way.

His first stop would be at his friend Kent's house.  The man refused to sleep when it was proper to do so and would still be awake, despite the late hour when Garrett reached London.  If he rode quickly, he could be in town by two or three in the morning and meet with Kent before seeing his sister at breakfast.

Hours later Garrett found Kent awake, in high spirits and mostly sober.  Usually by this time he was already half into his cups.  Instead Kent was energetic.

“Have you been to bed?”

Kent sat in his evening robe at the large desk in the middle of a massive study filled with cigar scented furniture from all of the after dinner drinks that Kent entertained.

“Of course not,” Kent answered unapologetically and pointed at the side bar where a small late night feast had just been spread out.  “If you haven't eaten yet, then help yourself,” he offered.  “I returned home only moments ago and had the cook fix me up a plate.  It's not hot food but she did include some great cheeses,” Kent insisted as he began devouring some of the items.

Garrett ignored the food and sat in an over sized leather chair across from his friend.  “So you were out all night again.  Were you with Estelle?

Kent was famous for his slew of mistresses.  He had recently bragged that his present one was adept at keeping him awake late into the morning with some of the new techniques they had been mastering together.  Nearly half of London wanted Estelle which only made her more appealing to Kent.

“I left her,” Kent said, smiling all the wider at his confession and the surprised face of his friend.

Garrett was usually able to guess each of Kent's future actions at least a day before Kent had even made a decision.  Part of this was because he knew his friend so well, part of it was because Kent had become so predictable in his goals of going against what society wanted.  Kent seemed to enjoy that for once he might have leapt ahead of what Garrett had expected.

Garrett could not be too surprised though.  The relationship between Kent and Estelle had gone on longer than most of the others that Kent had kept.  Before Estelle there had been other women.  Some of his affairs had even overlapped.  Once Kent had kept three mistresses all at the same time.  Each was housed in a different area of London, to keep them from knowing about each other.  Every time he tired of a woman he would give out one last large set of gifts, including jewels and dresses to ease any guilt over their tears.  Estelle had been the first woman in a long time who had not tried to get him to marry her, which was why Kent had stayed with her longer than the others.

“Who is the next one now?  You didn't steal someone else's lover did you?” Garrett prodded.  It was one of Kent's favorite games, to seduce a mistress away from some other rich man.  Kent's penchant for such games had once pitted them against each other but in the end Amelia had chosen the safer of the two men.

“No I haven't stolen any mistresses and I'm not looking for a new one either.”

This time Garrett couldn't hide the surprise he felt at his friend’s words, which clearly delighted Kent to witness.

“Are you mad?  You haven't been without a mistress in almost four years.”

Patting his mouth with a napkin, Kent pushed away from the desk.  “No, I'm not mad.  I have been thinking lately about my future, and what my father would have wanted.”

“You've never cared about what that man wanted,” Garrett reminded his friend, who had lived peacefully without the constant nagging of the old man for two years, now that his father had died.  It was no hidden fact that Kent had been overjoyed at the occasion.

“I've decided to get married,” Kent told his friend.  “I should be fathering children, and since I don't want to just sire bastards to run around this town, I've decided to find a wife.”

“Why not marry Estelle?  She would have agreed to it, I'm sure.”  From being around his mother who was devoted to the business of husband hunting, Garrett could not imagine that any woman did not want to marry at some point.

“Estelle and my other mistresses were only for fun, and they knew that.  I chose them because of how exciting they were, and for their unique talents.” Kent poured each of them a brandy.  When Garrett refused the drink he shrugged and drank both down quickly.  “They were hardly the type of woman that you would bring home to your parents.”

“You don't have any parents,” Garrett reminded him, only to hear his friend chuckle loudly.  “You have never cared what anyone thought of you before.  Why should you care what people think about your wife?”

“A man has to be pickier about a wife than he does about his mistress.  She is the woman who will bear him children and raise them.  You need a wife to teach the boys some manners and the girls all of the proper etiquettes.”

Garrett couldn't help thinking how Kent's mother had failed infinitely at such tasks with her son.

“I won't have a mistress trying to act like a mother, it would never work.  Besides you want a trophy to throw over your arm when you go out in public, not a pariah to be shunned by the other women.  I want someone that everyone else wanted but didn't get,” Kent added with a touch of humor.

Garrett laughed at his friend's competitive nature showing through.  It was hardly a change in attitude from the gambling, drinking, depraved man that he had come to know so well.  A wife would just be a new type of prize for him to collect.  “When do you plan on starting your search for this woman?” Garrett asked, intrigued to find what kind of wife his friend would be with at the end of his little game.

“I have already started looking.  I spent the last few hours at the Emerson's ball,” Kent admitted.  “I had feared that after the company that I've been keeping lately, the flock of husband-hunting virgins would seem distasteful, and like too much work.  But I must admit that some of the ladies this year are very tempting.”

Garrett could not force away the image of a wolf being set into a roost full of unsuspecting hens who would try to protect the baby chicks.

“So after the ball ended I went over to Estelle's and told her that we are finished.”  Kent drank down another brandy and sat back down in his chair.  “The day after tomorrow there is another event being held.  This one is at the Buckman's estate.  I will be there to decide which of the women I should marry.  So far I've narrowed it down to two.”

“I don't think you've thought this through,” Garrett warned his friend.  “Finding a wife is not like finding a mistress.  It is far more difficult to court a lady, especially one that is in high demand.  You should remember your failure in courting Amelia.”

“But I never really wanted her, I only wanted to make it a bit more interesting for you.  The fact is that all women are the same in what they want.  They choose the man who can offer them the most jewels and dresses, whether she is a chaste lady or an experienced mistress.”  He ignored the idea that women might have different motives or goals in choosing their future husbands.  “You just have to fight a little harder than everyone else and offer more than all of the other men in the room.”

Only Kent could rationalize the intricate rituals of London's season into something as base and animalistic as that.  “Who are these two women that you have narrowed it down to?  Do they even seem interested in you yet?” Garrett already pitied the mothers and sponsors of any women that Kent would pursue.

Kent kept his attention pinned to the fourth glass of bourbon that rested lightly in his fingers as he spoke.  “I haven't been able to approach them yet.  Their sponsor is a bit of an old hag,” he admitted.

Garrett's spine stiffened.  He had rarely heard Kent use the term 'old hag'.  Reserving it for only the most prudish and bossy of women.  In fact he had only really heard it in reference to his mother.  “Tell me you're joking.”

“Your mother's charges are sought after by many men,” Kent said, trying to rationalize his choice as a matter of searching out the most prized possessions.

“You're absurd!” Garrett laughed; amazed that Kent could even imagine attempting such a thing.

“Any man who marries one of her girls is looked at with awe.  Even a few Dukes might try to vie for those two women.  It is a unique set of competitors that I have never fought against before.”

“Precisely why you shouldn't try.”

“And this year your mother has picked two very beautiful creatures, twins even.”  Kent spoke of the two women as if they were fine appetizers on a platter, waiting for him to choose which one he should devour.

“Winnie told me that she had chosen a set of twins this year.  But trust me, my mother will never let you court either of them, she hates you,” Garrett reminded him.

It was no secret that Mrs. Brentley was not one of Kent's admirers.  Some women Kent was able to wrap around his finger.  With a bit of charm and a flash of his smile women of all ages seemed to melt.  However Mrs. Brentley had known him since he was a young boy and she knew that he was always getting into some kind of mischief.  She had let her son become good friends with him only because she had hoped that Garrett would have a good influence on the boy.  By the time both men were adults, she had fixed Kent as being the worst sort of man but it was too late to pull them apart.  Mrs. Brentley was even angered by the fact that the large amounts of alcohol that Kent consumed daily had not bloated his figure.  He was as lean and healthy as any other young man despite his less than healthy habits.  The only woman who might have liked Kent less was Garrett's sister, Winnie.

Feeling strangely defensive for his mother's charges, Garrett looked his friend over.  “Did you see much of them at the ball?”

“Yes, everyone waits and watches for your mother to unveil her newest charge for the year.  When they turned out to be a beautiful set of twins every man in the place ran forward to fill their dance cards.  They looked so similar that the men who did dance with them weren't sure which sister they had spent time with except that one keeps a small flower in her hair to help tell them apart.”  Kent began his fifth drink by offering a glass to Garrett, who again refused.  “But I was intrigued by them from the great distance that I had to keep to avoid your mother.  I just need to get one of them separated from the old hag.  Then I can court her and marry her.  The whole affair shouldn't take more than a couple of months.”

“Why not choose someone easier to get?  I'm sure that there are some matrons who do not know to keep their charges away from you.”

Giving another of his devil-be-damned smiles Kent shrugged his shoulders lightly. “If I'm going to give up the bachelor's life, why not choose one of your mother's famous charges?  At least I could go out with one last bang,” Kent said.

Standing to leave, Garrett tried again to warn his friend away from his goals.  “I don't know if going up against my mother to get to those girls is your best choice.  There are too many men to fight through to get to them.  They could prove to be quite a challenge.”  Before the words had left his mouth Garrett wished to take them back.  He knew how Kent loved a challenge, and besting men richer and more powerful than himself, seemed to be his goal in life.

“I'll be married to one of them by the end of the season,”  Kent declared slapping his hand on the desk to finalize his decision.

“I can see that you will be very busy over the next few weeks, we can visit another time,” Garrett said as he excused himself from the room. 

“Busy?” Kent asked, perplexed at the notion.

“You need to work on a strategy if you are going to get one of the twins to marry you without my mother chasing you away,” he warned.  “And you know Winnie will back my mother on this.  She would do anything to keep you away from something that you want.”

“Does Winnie still have it in for me after all of these years?  You'd think that she was older now and wouldn't hold such grudges,” Kent said, smiling at the many tricks that he had pulled on his friend's younger sister.  “Besides I don't need a strategy to win one of the Wellings sisters.  My charm alone will have them disobeying anything that your mother ever told them,” Kent assured his friend, only half joking.