Beautiful Things: Second Sons Book One

Beautiful Things: Chapter 17



Tom watched James close the door behind the fleeing form of Miss Harrow, his last glimpse of her the bouncing dark curl at the nape of her neck. The door snapped shut and he blinked, her spell breaking. Christ, was the woman a witch? Twice in twelve hours, his head felt fuzzy, as if he was hungover…and he jolted to realize his traitorous cock was at half-mast. He took a breath as he registered James was speaking directly to him.

“What?” He raised his hand and dragged it through his curls.

James glowered at him. “I said what the hell was that?”

Tom said the only words that filled his muddled mouth. “I have no bloody idea…”

Thank god for Burke. “Oh, Miss Harrow? Turns out she’s into astronomy,” he said, moving back over to their corner. “Tom gave her some recommendations for books on astral navigation.”

Tom was still winded. “Yeah…navigation.”

James just frowned. It was so clearly a lie, and a weak one at that.

Tom waited, casting a wary look over to Burke.

“Fine,” James sighed. He crossed the room after Burke and dropped into the other chair. “Don’t tell me if it means that much to you.”

Tom joined them in the corner, standing near the window.

James frowned at him. “I thought you were looking for a lady with money and status, not some torrid tryst with a penniless ward.”

“Oh, but torrid trysts are my favorite,” Burke said, earning him a scowl from James.

Tom bristled. He would never impugn the lady’s honor, and for James to imagine otherwise was unpardonable…though he was holding her hand…and standing a bit too close. And Christ if she didn’t smell like sweet violets and rosemary. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and breathe her in. His cock was getting hard again just thinking about it.

Perhaps James had a point…

He shifted uncomfortably, leaning against the window. “Miss Harrow is perfectly safe, James. Yes, Burke lied. We weren’t talking about navigation—” Burke shot him an affronted look “—but trust us when we say nothing happened.”

James raised his brow, every inch the imperious lord, but huffed out another “fine.”

“Where are your guests?” Burke asked, one eye cast lazily over the chess board.

“You mean George’s guests?” James moved a pawn and flicked Burke’s king-side castle off the board. “Most of the ladies are with mother taking a tour of the greenhouses. I set Sir Andrew up with George. They’ve gone fishing. I begged off so I could actually get some work done.” He rubbed a tired hand over his face.

“What would you have us do today?” Burke asked.

James leaned back with a wave of his hand. “Whatever the hell you want. Renley, feel free to join the ladies…in company this time,” he added with a glare.

Tom blinked. “Whyever would I join the ladies on a greenhouse tour?”

“To court them, you great blundering idiot,” Burke said with a laugh.

Bloody hell. He was meant to be courting these women and trying to woo one into becoming Mrs. Tom Renley. He was too distracted by the sweet smile of the only unsuitable girl in the house.

“Christ man,” James said with a laugh. “Burke, please stay with him and see that he makes some small effort today.”

Tom groaned. The last thing he wanted was to be coddled by Burke as he was forced to make infinitely small talk with the likes of Olivia Rutledge.

As if reading his thoughts, Burke said, “Never fear, Tom. I know you got your cock handed to you by that harpy last night, but—”

“What?” James cried, eyes darting from one to the other.

Oh hell, James hadn’t heard the story yet. Tom didn’t have it in him to tell it again.

“Don’t worry about it,” Burke said with a wave of his hand. “Lady Gorgon was in rare form last night, but it’s fine. We’ll just scratch her name off the list.”

“Lady Gorgon?” James repeated. “Who—”

“Olivia Rutledge,” Burke provided.

“Oh…Christ,” James breathed. “That shoe fits.”

“Does it ever,” Burke said with a knowing nod. “But it doesn’t matter, because she’s off Tom’s list.”

Tom grunted his approval. “We should move her to the top of George’s list.”

Burke beamed at him. “And just like that, Tom’s back in the game.”

Tom couldn’t help but laugh.

“Speaking of the Gorgon,” Burke said. “Don’t dismiss that footman.”

James blinked, confused for a moment. “What…oh, of course not. He said he didn’t do it. She probably mixed up the salt and the sugar like Miss Harrow said. I gave the lad time off until the Gorgon leaves.”

Tom shared a smile with Burke over James’ head. It turned out all Miss Harrow’s deal-making was for naught, as James had already done the gentlemanly thing.

“I’m leaving you two now,” James said, rising from his chair. “Some of us have actual work to do. Renley, keep Burke out of trouble as best you can.”

“That is not possible for anyone,” Tom replied.

At the same time, Burke said, “I highly resent the implication that finding Tom a wife is not work. When I’m successful,” he called after James’ retreating form, “this will surely be my crowning achievement!”

James paused at the door. “I’m going to let you spend the morning contemplating those words, and we’ll revisit them later to see if you’ll finally admit you’re setting rather low standards for yourself.”

“I despise introspection of any variety,” Burke replied.

James got the last word as he shut the door. “Don’t I know it.”

As soon as James was gone, Tom took his chair. “Do you really want to join the ladies in a greenhouse tour?” He prayed Burke would say no.

“Of course, I do,” Burke replied. “Ladies love a man who can pretend to know anything about flowers. I’d be happy to give you some pointers…show you how it’s done.”

Tom dropped his head in his hands. “It must be so easy to flirt when you’ve got nothing to offer and nothing to lose—” The words hung in the air between them, and he immediately wished them unsaid. “Burke…I’m…I didn’t mean it—”

“No, you’re right,” Burke said. “I think you’ve stumbled on it precisely. Look at you…and look at me. Look how easy flirting is for me.”

“I don’t follow,” Tom replied.

“Perhaps you should stop thinking about what you have to do and start thinking about what you want to do.”

“What do you—”

“Flirt because it’s fun,” Burke said with a laugh.

Tom sighed. Once, in his youth, he too loved the thrill of the chase…until he let himself get caught. Now he was like a fox wary of traps. “Flirting is not fun.”

A glint flashed in Burke’s eye. “Liar.” His look was suddenly all mischief. “James was right you know…what the hell was that with Miss Harrow?”

Tom met Burke’s gaze. “I don’t know.”

“But it was fun. Don’t think I didn’t see the effect she had on you,” he laughed. “Fuck, she’s a siren. She’s luring me in like I don’t know what.”

Tom groaned again. It was true. Whatever was happening with Miss Harrow, it was excessively diverting. For a wild moment, he’d been contemplating tracing the tip of his nose up her neck and chasing that sweet scent of violets with his tongue…

Oh, hell, Burke was watching him. “James already said it, Miss Harrow is penniless. I can’t set my cap at—”

“Who said anything about setting your cap at her?” Burke replied. “I was just pointing out the fact that you are, most assuredly, a liar. You liked flirting with Miss Harrow. Hell, you were ready to pounce on her just now. You would have taken her against the bookcase if I wasn’t here—”

“Stop,” he groaned.

“Miss Harrow proves you’ve not forgotten how to flirt. So, just treat all your interactions with the other ladies like that. Show them you’re a lion ready to pounce—”

Tom choked on a distressed laugh. “God, you are the worst—”

“And you’ll surely have one curled around your little finger in no time,” Burke finished with a confident smile. “Now, get up. You’ve got to work fast if you want to snag the best one away from George while he’s not looking.”


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