Hardly A Gentleman Read Online Free PDF Page B

demeanor that seemed a bit—cold? As soon as their eyes met, Jacob was sneering at him.
    When the first course was served, Henry asked, “So, Mr. Carridan… when did you meet our lovely Miss Berryton?”
    “It was—”
    Margaret started to answer, but Vincent abruptly interrupted, “Three months ago, more or less. Others have called it a rushed courtship, and I politely disagree with them. As soon as I saw Maggie, I knew .” As he gazed at her from across the table, his eyes were plainly dripping with adoration. “I have never seen a lovelier young woman.”
    “Vincent…” Warmth flooded Margaret’s cheeks—and presumably a blush—so she kept her gaze on her plate. “You are too kind.”
    “It is not kindness, it is the truth. I was stunned by how beautiful she was. I still remember what she was wearing. I even remember the color of the ribbon in her hair,” he went on. “One look into her eyes, and it was as if all the breath was purged from my lungs. I was robbed of all sense. I knew I was gazing into the eyes of a goddess, and I had to make her mine.”
    “How very passionate of you, Mr. Carridan!” Lydia exclaimed.
    “With her sweet smile, and hair like fire, and brilliant brown eyes… I am absolutely certain she is the only woman I shall ever want.”
    As he listened to Mr. Carridan’s overly romantic speech, Jacob brutally skewered a carrot with his fork. The act of aggression was noticed by Margaret, who had already been wondering if Jacob was vexed. She had never seen him so quiet and sullen.
    “I have never known a better man than Vincent,” Margaret suddenly said.
    “Apart from me, of course?” Henry suggested with a grin.
    Margaret simultaneously laughed and nodded. “Indeed. Apart from you, Henry.”
    Jacob gripped his fork until his knuckles turned white, until his hand was shaking. Vincent. Henry . The way their Christian names flowed from Margaret’s lips was irksome. Margaret Berryton had known him longer than either of them, and yet she never referred to him by his given name. Vincent Carridan— the dastard —had likely spent more time with her. Despite knowing her for three years, Jacob had spent very few days in her company. He felt horrendously slighted.
    Clearly, Jacob had a unconquerable rival in Vincent Carridan. The man was too handsome for his own good, had a sizable fortune, and was likely ten years older than Jacob. How could he possibly compete with a gentleman who had so much to his advantage? Margaret was lost to him. In the course of a year, she would be the wife of the honorable Mr. Carridan. Never would she spare a thought for the silly boy who sometimes read stories to her grandmother.
    After supper, the gentlemen withdrew to the parlor for cards, port wine and cigars—although Jacob refused the latter. Jacob was also terrible at bluffing, so he braced himself for the inevitable losses he would suffer at the hands of superior men.
    “Mrs. Calder seems to be a very lovely lady,” Mr. Carridan politely said. “I never knew my own grandmothers… alas, they were gone before I was born. Bereft of a grandmother’s affection as I was, I never knew what I was missing. Having met Margaret’s grandmother, I now know what a terrible loss it was.”
    “Mrs. Calder is a very special lady,” Jacob said. “I have known her for many years.”
    “Indeed.” Mr. Carridan filled his glass to the brim, and a moment later, had drained it most impressively. “I have heard something of your history with Mrs. Calder. My fiance has had much to say about you, Mr. Billingsley.”
    “Nothing terrible, I hope?”
    “No. She seems to think you’re a decent sort… though I tend to form my own opinions.” Vincent was scowling at Jacob as he took a drag from his cigar.
    “Jacob is a fine young man,” Henry Calder defended him. “My wife says he is the grandson she always wanted, but never had.”
    “Is that so? Hmm.” For a few seconds, Vincent puffed on his cigar, making