As an Earl Desires (2 page)

Spellman released a sigh as though ready to accept
that victory wouldn't be his today. “Then the earl is
fortunate to have you to guide him.”

“He is indeed.”

“Mr. Spellman, I believe you came here to
discuss my finances, not my social life.” Arch had no
recollection of Lady Jane Myerson. Perhaps he'd seek her out
simply to irritate Camilla.

“Yes, my lord. However, I must restate that I
do not believe it is appropriate to have the countess present
during our meeting.”

“Where's the harm?” Arch
asked.

Spellman darted his gaze around the room as though
he was searching for the harm, or perhaps he simply wished to avoid
looking anyone in the eye. “The matters I'm here to
discuss concern the countess.”

“So you prefer to speak ill of me behind my
back rather than to my face?” she asked tartly.

And Arch wondered why she'd immediately
assumed the worst: that Spellman would be speaking ill of her
rather than complimenting her.

“I believe that a woman's place is not
among gentleman,” Spellman said.

“I must disagree, Mr. Spellman,” Arch
said, before Camilla could issue her retort. “If you are here
to discuss matters that concern the countess, then I think she
should be present to hear what is said.”

“My lord, I must insist—”

“No, Mr. Spellman,” he cut in.
“It is I who will be the one to insist. Let's get to
the business at hand, shall we?”

“Yes, my lord, as you wish.” With a
final glare at Camilla, which she haughtily returned, Spellman
crossed the room, stood behind the desk, placed his satchel on top
of it, and indicated the chairs opposite him.

Once Camilla had taken a seat, Arch joined her.
Spellman sat, releasing another drawn-out sigh.

“It is time, my lord, for you to determine if
you wish for the countess to have an allowance and if so what
amount would be appropriate. However, I must advise you that you
are under no obligation to provide her with anything, not even a
roof above her head.”

Arch was acutely aware of Camilla stiffening beside
him, thought he could actually see the hairs on the nape of her
neck bristling. He, on the other hand, assumed a casual pose,
leaned back in his chair, and stretched out his legs.

While Camilla's strategy when facing an
opponent was to reveal her arsenal, Arch's was to keep his
hidden until the precise moment it was most needed. He realized he
often gave the impression that he wasn't up to the task of
seeing to his affairs, but he felt he gained an advantage by not
revealing all his strengths—or his weaknesses. “Why in
the world would I not wish to see to her comfort, Mr.
Spellman?”

“The previous earl didn't deem her
important enough to mention in his will.”

“An oversight I'm sure. The earl was up
in years. Did he alter his will at all after he married the
countess?”

“No, my lord.”

“Did you mention the oversight to
him?”

“No, my lord. It was not my place to question
the earl's actions.”

“Yet, here you are seemingly questioning
mine.”

“Because I fear matters are getting out of
hand.” Spellman reached into his satchel and retrieved a
stack of papers. “These are lists of items bought thus far
this year from various establishments throughout London. Each month
the countess purchases at least two dozen dresses, nearly as many
shoes, a dozen hats, cloaks…the list is
endless—”

“Will you be unable to pay for these
purchases
when the time comes?” Arch
asked. He knew the elite shops—which he was fairly certain
were the ones Camilla would make use of—expected their
influential clients to be bothered with paying for purchases only
at the end of the year.

Spellman's face turned blotchy as it
reddened. “Of course, I shall be able to pay for
them.”

“Then I fail to see the problem.”

“The problem is the abundance of items
bought. The old earl was an extremely frugal man, but since his
death three years ago, expenditures within the Sachse households
have gone up tremendously. Thus the reason that I thought I should
make inquiries now, rather than waiting to be shocked at the end of
the year as I have been each year before you arrived to take the
helm. The countess is prone to making unnecessary purchases, my
lord, and in truth is no longer entitled to spend the earl's
money. A fact that I generously overlooked in the past, because a
woman must have some means with which to live. But the matter is
now in your hands.”

Arch looked at Camilla. He could understand the
increase in spending within the last year as Camilla came out of
mourning, but he was baffled that expenditures had increased during
the first two years following the old earl's death.
He'd had numerous people remark on how faithfully she'd
observed the two-year mourning period. None
seemed to fault her for quickly dispensing with the
half-mourning attire. After all, she was young and a favorite among
the Marlborough House Set. Within their eyes, she could do no
wrong. They all seemed to want her happiness as much as Arch
did.

Based on rumors he'd heard, he wasn't
certain the same could be said of the old Sachse. Perhaps
she'd purchased items she couldn't yet use simply
because her husband's death gave her a measure of freedom
she'd not had while he lived. Arch wondered how many times
the previous earl had taken her to task for purchases such as
these. As Spellman had also worked for the man, Arch assumed he was
familiar with the way the old earl had managed things. But now
there was a new earl in London, and it was time everyone began to
accept and grow accustomed to
his
ways.

“Are they necessary purchases,
Camilla?” he asked quietly.

She turned to him, and he could see the worry lines
deepen within her brow. “Yes, Sachse. You
see—”

He held up a hand to silence her explanation. If he
determined that a problem regarding the expenditures existed, they
would discuss the matter in private, not with an audience. He gave
his attention back to Spellman.

“Have I the means to pay for them?” He
knew
Spellman had answered the question earlier,
but he thought it bore repeating. He knew the answer, but was
making certain that Spellman knew it as well. It was a habit from
the days when he taught lessons at the Haywood School for
Boys—determining someone's knowledge by testing.

“Yes, my lord. You are quite well-off, but
you will not remain so—”

“Then, pay the accounts when they come due,
Mr. Spellman.”

Spellman folded his hands on top of the papers.
“I had every intention of doing so. But I think it would
behoove you to set a limit on how much the countess can spend
yearly, if you are so inclined to allow her to spend at
all.”

“The countess has already stated that she is
purchasing
necessary
items. One does
not limit necessary purchases.”

“But two dozen dresses—”

Silencing Spellman with a practiced, hardened gaze
that had never failed to bring under control a roomful of unruly
boys, Arch slowly unfolded his body and came to his feet. “It
is not your place to question the countess or her purchases. Nor
should you be running about London looking into her activities. You
are simply to pay the bills that come your way and send me an
accounting. If you are unable to manage that task, then I shall
find someone else to handle the affairs of this estate.”

Spellman stood, a visible shudder running through
his body as though he were attempting to unruffle his own
feathers.

“The previous earl understood that a woman
must be given boundaries, or she will take advantage and lead a man
to ruin. I advise you to take the reins and limit her
spending.”

“Why?”

“
Why
? Because, my
lord, she spends frivolously.”

“Which I've already stated is none of
your concern.”

“But it is my responsibility to advise you so
that mistakes may be avoided.”

“And I appreciate your advice when it
pertains to business or the running of the estates. Where the
countess is concerned, however, I keep my own counsel, and you
would do well to remember that if you wish to remain in my
employ.”

Leaving the papers where they rested, Spellman
picked up his satchel. “Very well, my lord. You won't
be the first to have been brought down by a woman.”

“Mr. Spellman, I am not too proud to admit
when I have made an error in judgment. However, I have carefully
reviewed my financial status, and I do not see any cause for alarm.
I know you had the best intentions, and I do appreciate your
bringing your concerns to my attention.”

“That is what I am paid to do, my lord. I bid
you good day.” He angled his head toward Camilla.
“Countess.”

Spellman strode from the room. Arch didn't
think the man was at all satisfied with the outcome of his visit,
but then it wasn't Arch's goal to please his solicitor.
He was more interested in pleasing Camilla. He turned to her.

Her luscious lips were parted slightly, her brow
knitted. She looked to be momentarily stunned, as though she could
hardly believe what had transpired. Then, like someone wiping a
slate clean, she blanked her expression.

She rose from the chair, walked to the window, and
gazed out on the garden. “I have always found Mr. Spellman to
be a most unpleasant man. I thought you handled him
admirably.”

Arch sat on the edge of his desk and folded his
arms across his chest. Ah, yes, he'd handled the man
admirably. But how best to handle the countess was something he had
yet to ascertain.

“I believe you have earned the right to spend
the earl's money more so than I have.”

“You are more generous than he ever was. I
had fully expected you to take the larger of his two London homes
when you first arrived. Instead, you took the smaller residence.
You are a constant source of amazement to me.”

“I could say the same of you.”

She shook her head as though she didn't wish
to travel in the direction of his comment. “The old earl
would have required an accounting and explanation for each
purchase.”

“I am not the old earl.”

“So I am slowly coming to realize.”

Slowly
? He wondered
what he could do to hasten the process along. In spite of his best
intentions not to do so, he rose, crossed over until he stood only
a hairbreadth away from her, inhaled her sweet rose perfume, and
said with a low voice, “I wish I had known you before he ever
possessed you.”

Watching her delicate throat as she swallowed, he
desperately wanted to press his lips against her fluttering
pulse.

“You would not have liked me,” she
whispered.

“What was there not to like?”

“I was ignorant…poor…”

As though suddenly realizing that she was revealing
too much, she managed to dart away from him without meeting his
gaze. “I would die before I returned to the life of a
commoner. I have established a place for myself among the
Marlborough House Set and am in a position to achieve anything I
want, and I want a good deal. While we search for a wife for you, I
shall be searching for a duke for myself.”

“You say that as though the most important
aspect to a man is his title.”

She arched a finely shaped eyebrow. “Because
I believe that a man's title is
all
that matters.”

He shook his head in denial of her words.
“You can't mean that. What of love?”

“What of it? It has no power. It garners no
attention when one walks into a ballroom. It doesn't provide
servants, or fine clothes, or a large residence. It doesn't
earn one favor with the queen. It doesn't keep you out of the
street or the gutters. I have been a pauper, and I have been a
countess. Now I seek to be a duchess. As such, I shall garner
respect—”

“You don't need a title to have
respect.”

She scoffed. “How little you know. If it were
possible, I would strive to be a queen. Then there would be no one
more important than I.”

“If you were to search for love, rather than
rank, then to one man there would
be
no
one more important than you.”

“Spoken like a poet, rather than a
realist.”

He was not a man usually prone to violence, but he
thought he'd find great satisfaction in plowing a fist into
the old earl's face, because he'd managed to strip
Camilla of her ability to dream, and Arch thought that might have
been the old Sachse's cruelest legacy. “You have never
known the reality of being
my
countess.”

“And we both know that I never shall. Not
that it matters. As I've said, I have goals. I shall help
find you an agreeable wife, and in the process,
I shall find myself a satisfactory duke.”

“You think a duke will make you suddenly
fertile?”

She blanched, and he regretted the harshness in his
voice and the callousness of his words immediately. He didn't
know why he'd been unable to prevent the anger from forcing
them out of his mouth. “Camilla—”

She sliced her hand through the air, effectively
silencing his apology. “I am not stupid, Archie. I shall
target a duke who already has an heir and a spare.”

“Which means he will no doubt be
old.”

“And I shall be burdened with him for fewer
years.”

“Why would you knowingly go into a marriage
that you hoped would be brief?”