One More Kiss by Mary Blayney

their maid. She had lived among the ton for years, her whole life. Beatrice imagined that as a maid there was probably not much she didn’t know about the principal players at the party. About Lord Jessup, the Earl of Belmont, Baron Crenshaw, and Marquis Destry.
Perfect
, she thought.
    “We are also joined this evening by Mr. Abel Brent, who will be leaving soon for London and will return later in the week. His daughters, Miss Beatrice Brent and her sister Miss Cecilia, are my honored guests and as welcome as my own children would be if my sonand daughter-in-law were not abroad on their wedding trip.”
    Several in the group applauded lightly and the countess smiled at their good wishes.
    “After dinner we will gather in the Gold Salon and I will tell you what I have planned for the week, and you can discuss what entertainments you can contrive for yourselves and each other.”
    Beatrice heard someone laugh a little and saw Marquis Destry press his lips together.
    The countess gave him a look of reproof, undermined by the amusement in her eyes. “In a few minutes dinner will be announced. I would like to invite the Marquis Destry to escort me, and the rest of you may follow as informally as you wish.”
    J ESS WATCHED THE Brent sisters, as Destry elaborated on how they could “contrive to amuse” themselves. Lewd comments to which Jess refused to respond with anything more than a laugh. He was already the countess’s least favorite guest. No reason to risk being sent home like a misbehaving schoolboy.
    “The Brent sisters are intriguing,” he said at last.
    Destry nodded, distracted from his bawdy game. “The taller one, Miss Cecilia, is one of the loveliest women I have ever seen.”
    “Blond hair, blue eyes.” Jess made the inventory as though he had not noticed her before. “Quite pretty.”
    “Pennistan, that’s like saying a Rembrandt is quite nice. She is a diamond and will take society by storm.”
    Destry was right. Cecilia’s blond hair was thick and beautifully coiffed, her skin that lovely peaches-and-creamshade that looked sun-kissed even on the rainiest of days. Her very blue eyes were friendly enough and her mouth was a pink bow of perfection.
    “Maybe,” Jess half agreed. “But look how uncomfortable she is. You can see the tension in her body, the way she stands so still as though she’s holding a pose. She’s not easy here. She looks like she is afraid someone will look beyond her beauty and find her wanting.”
    “Then credit her with brains enough to realize that there is more to a woman than beauty.”
    “Defending her, are you?” Yes, Jess could see the little man was quite taken with the angel of perfection, not just by his words but by the way he kept glancing around to see where she was or who she was talking to.
    It was more than his usual restlessness. This was focused.
    Marquis Destry and Miss Brent. What an odd couple they would make.
    “Miss Beatrice is lovely in her own way,” Jess observed. “She has a quiet beauty that one does not notice at first. I expect her looks will only improve as she ages.”
    Destry nodded, still all but dancing on the balls of his feet. “They each have much to admire.”
    “You can’t marry both of them, Des,” Jess said, annoyed. A besotted Destry could grow to be a bore.
    “Don’t want to marry both,” Destry answered shortly. “Just proving I am not blinded by Miss Cecilia’s beauty. Most likely they are different in more ways than their size.”
    Jess watched Destry watch Miss Brent, the beauty,and turn away the moment she glanced in his direction.
    “I would wager a quid that they’re as different as it is possible to be,” Jess mused.
    “A bet I will not take for a number of reasons, not the last of which is that I can guess what method you would use to win.” Destry’s gaze drifted to the Brent sisters again, even though he could only see their backs.
    The man was already becoming predictable.
    “You don’t think she