Beautiful Things: Second Sons Book One

A footman directed Rosalie to the library. Her eyes went wide as she took in the sheer scale and beauty of the room. It was a two-story space with shelves stretching around three walls, packed with more books than she’d ever seen in a private collection. The windows, framed in deep blue curtains, were open wide, catching the best of the morning sunlight. Here and there around the room, large potted plants provided greenery.

Remembering her mission, she stepped fully into the room. A deep laugh echoed from the corner, then another. Mr. Burke lounged across from the lieutenant in a set of wing-backed chairs by the farthest window. There was a chess board balanced on the table between them, but the game sat ignored as the men laughed together.

“You cannot be serious,” Mr. Burke said, wiping his eyes.

“My hand to God,” the lieutenant replied, raising one hand in mock oath.

“Christ, I knew something must have happened by the look on your face. I had no idea—what did you say in return?”

“Nothing,” the lieutenant replied, still laughing. “I just sat there, trying not to reach for my cock under the table.”

Mr. Burke sputtered. “What?”

“I had to make sure it was still there. I thought the bitch might’ve snapped it off!”

Both men nearly fell out of their chairs laughing.

Rosalie liked the sound of their laughter, so free and easy compared to the reserved, almost forlorn Lieutenant Renley of last night. Not for the first time, she wished gentlemen didn’t have such a Janus-like quality in their relations with men and women. Give her a man full of curious opinions and crude manners if it meant he actually behaved as himself, and not as some manicured version deemed palatable for tender ladies.

Steeling herself, she called out. “Hello there? Mr. Burke?”

Both men pivoted in their chairs.

“Damn,” Lieutenant Renley muttered, jolting to his feet.

“Can we help you, Miss Harrow?” Mr. Burke asked. “Were you hoping to borrow a book?”

“No, I was…well, I was looking for you.”

Mr. Burke glanced at the lieutenant, then back at her. She understood why this was awkward. After their chance moment alone together last night, to seek him out again so soon…she was sending the wrong message. But it couldn’t be helped.

“Looking for me?” Mr. Burke muttered. “Whatever for?”

Lieutenant Renley was clearly curious as well, but he said, “I shall leave you to it.”

“No, stay,” Rosalie said. “Please.”

Part of her suddenly felt it was right that he stay. She wanted him to know what happened at breakfast. And a secret part of her felt anxious to be alone with Mr. Burke again.

“Well, Miss Harrow, how can I assist?” Mr. Burke said stepping out of the alcove to join her in the middle of the room. The lieutenant followed close behind.

They were both so tall and handsome. It was quite arresting to see them standing together, giving her their undivided attention. How wrong-minded must someone like Olivia be to slight a man with the looks, manners, and easy temper of the lieutenant? Especially when that slight was done in favor of an eccentric duke who seemed to care little for company or conversation.

“It’s about what happened this morning, sir…and last night.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Mr. Burke said, grey eyes narrowed.

She turned to Lieutenant Renley. “I hope it’s not too forward of me, sir, to admit that I heard your conversation last night with Lady Olivia…”

He clenched his jaw.

Mr. Burke frowned. “What does that have to do with—”

“It was me,” she said on a breath. “The footman didn’t salt Lady Olivia’s tea this morning…I did.”

The men exchanged a look.

“You’re joking,” Mr. Burke said with a broad smile.

But Lieutenant Renley’s brows lowered over those deep blue eyes. “Why would you do that?”

“Because she was rude to you,” Rosalie admitted.

Her heart fluttered as both men took a half-step forward. She swallowed and their eyes tracked the motion. Perhaps this was a mistake. She thought speaking to both of them together might cool the fire in her blood, but now her senses swam with their proximity. She’d never been so sure of anything in her life: they both wanted her.

“You don’t even know me, Miss Harrow,” the lieutenant replied, his voice low.

“I don’t need to know you to know that she is vile,” Rosalie said without hesitation. “She treats everyone as objects. She was rude to you, to Lord James, and perhaps most importantly, to the footman.”

Mr. Burke let out a slow breath, his eyes still locked on her as he considered her words. “Why should you care how a marquess’ daughter treats a footman?”

She squared her shoulders. “Because I don’t like seeing people treat those beneath them in rank as beneath them in dignity.”

The men exchanged another look full of shared meaning she couldn’t read.

“I salted her tea, Mr. Burke, but she blamed the footman.” She took a half step forward. “It is very important to me that Lord James know he was not to blame. I would hate for him to lose his position.”

Mr. Burke’s mouth tipped into another smile. “Ahh…I see. You want me to speak to James on your behalf.”

“On the footman’s behalf,” she corrected. “Let him keep his position.”

“And keep your name out of it in the process,” he added.

She swallowed, knowing he was trying to provoke her. “I will gladly admit what I did if it keeps the footman in his job.”

Burke considered for a moment. “Very well, you have earned my respect with the care you’ve shown for the poor footman. Not to mention your gallantry towards Renley. Who knew there was such a Lancelot in our midst, eh Tom?”

The lieutenant cast him a warning look.

But Mr. Burke faced Rosalie, those grey eyes dancing with interest as he gave her another smile. “I shall speak to Lord James personally. I will save the footman the indignity of dismissal. And we’ll keep your naughty trick between the three of us, shan’t we Tom?”

Lieutenant Renley nodded.

“I thank you,” she replied.

It was the best possible outcome she could have imagined. Mr. Burke was showing himself to be a true gentleman. She bobbed a slight curtsy and turned to leave.

“But I shall expect something in return…”

She turned slowly. “Sir?’

“Let it go, Burke,” the lieutenant muttered.

But Mr. Burke had eyes only for her. “You’re asking me to guarantee that the footman gets a three-week paid vacation. He can’t possibly be seen in the house while Lady Gorgon is still here,” he reasoned. “If I save the footman, and your reputation…you will owe me.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Owe you what, sir?”

Mr. Burke mirrored her stance, his brows knitting together.

“Burke…” The lieutenant warned again, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“You will owe me one favor, redeemable by me at a time and place of my choosing,” Mr. Burke said at last.

She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. “I have little enough reputation as it is, sir. Why should I ever agree to make such a Faustian deal?”

He smirked. “You paint me as the devil in this bargain. Not very flattering, is it Tom?” He looked to his friend. “Do you agree with her? Am I devilish to ask for a quid pro quo?”

The lieutenant just shrugged, his own smile turning predatory.

Rosalie wasn’t frightened. Instead, she felt warmth pooling in her core. Whatever was happening between the three of them right now, she wasn’t going anywhere. But she had to find a way to right this course. “Mr. Burke, I never meant to imply—”

“One favor, Miss Harrow,” Mr. Burke repeated. “A favor that shall not compromise you in any way,” he added. “There, is that still Faustian in your estimation? Or can it be an accord between friends?”

It was her turn to raise a brow. “You wish us to be friends now?”

“I thought we crossed that bridge last night,” Mr. Burke teased. “I told you that to learn the truth about me would make you my intimate friend.”

“Everyone in this house knows your truth, sir,” she rejoined. “Would you call all of them your intimate friends?”

“Not a chance,” he replied, storms swirling in his grey eyes. “Just you, Miss Harrow.”

“But to be friends requires a mutual knowing,” said Rosalie. “And you don’t know me, sir…except that I’m the type of person who will salt your tea if you rub me wrong.”

“Hear that, Tom?” he replied, eyes flashing. “We must make it a point never to rub her wrong. I’d hate to get a mouth full of salt with my morning tea.”

She raised her chin. “Are you teasing me again, sir?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The lieutenant shifted his weight as Mr. Burke continued to watch her, waiting for her to make the next move.

She took a deep breath. “You are sincere that we shall be friends? You’ll help me?”

“Any friend of the duchess is a friend of mine.” Slowly, he held out his hand. “Come, Miss Harrow. If you agree, let us shake on it. Your footman shall be saved the indignity of wrongful removal, and the secret of the salt shall die buried in my heart. Renley’s too.”

Heart in her throat, she shook his hand. Just like the times before, the moment their skin touched, she felt a jolt up her arm. His fingers closed around hers as he tugged on her ever so slightly, drawing her closer. Standing so close to him, she could sense his warmth and the faint scent of something spiced yet sweet, like brandy or a mulled wine. She pulled her hand free.

“Renley too,” he said. “We are all in this bargain together. You now have two devils at your command. Shake his hand to seal our deal.”

The lieutenant held out his hand. With a swallow, she took it. The same rush of feeling filled her, leaving her fluttering all over.

“You’ve already given me my favor,” he murmured. “And I thank you for it. Watching her choke on salty tea was like Christmas come early.”

Rosalie couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as she fought the urge to step forward. Unlike Mr. Burke’s spiced sweetness, the lieutenant smelled like salt and sunshine, a warm summer’s day. How was it possible that even here in the English countryside, he could remind her so viscerally of the sea? Before she could do something as utterly brazen as press her face against his coat, wrapping herself in that sunny warmth, the door to the library swung open. She jumped back as Lieutenant Renley dropped her hand.

“James, just the man I was looking for,” Mr. Burke called, stepping around her.

She turned as Lord James took in the room. His smile fell. “Miss Harrow, the ladies are all taking a tour of the greenhouses. You won’t want to miss it.”

“Of course, my lord.” She turned slightly to glance back at Lieutenant Renley. “Lieutenant, thank you for the advice on the books.” With a slight dip, she turned on her heel and walked towards the door. “Mr. Burke,” she added as she passed him.

“Good day, Miss Harrow,” Mr. Burke called to her fleeing form.

Lord James stepped aside, allowing her to slip past.

“Good day, my lord.”

The door shut behind her and she paused. She didn’t care that a footman now stood to either side of the door, watching her. She needed to catch her breath before her knees buckled.

What just happened in that room? She felt drunk, weak, buzzing…alive. Alone in a room with two men…two unmarried, desperately attractive men. Two men who wanted her and were making no attempts to conceal it. Making a deal with these men, sharing secrets with them, agreeing to a favor. Touching them, taking in their intoxicating scents, theirs hands in hers…so comforting, so safe—

No. Not safe. Not comforting. Dangerous. To any lady, the most dangerous animal in England was not the wolf or the boar. It was the entitled English gentleman with an excess of charm and nothing to lose.