Falling for the Earl (Regency Romance) (Regency Lords Book 5) (2 page)

“Do pardon me, Miss Alexander, if I am boring you,” he said coolly. “Perhaps you would prefer that we discuss the weather?” His tone was sharper than he had intended, and he saw her eyes narrow though she did not immediately respond. When she did, it was to say,

“We are not all as well acquainted with the circumstances as you are, my lord. And in any case, I am not normally expected to have a thought or opinion on such weighty matters.”

Her tone was as sharp as his had been, and he found that he rather liked her feistiness. It warmed him in places he knew would frighten her, were she to be aware of her effect on him.

“Surely you jest! I cannot imagine a situation in which your opinions would not be welcomed.”

She eyed him warily, and he raised a brow, finding himself unable to address her obvious suspicion. He knew he was being genuine, but she clearly didn’t believe him, and his silence only seemed to prove her intuition to be accurate.

The Viscount had often told him that his habit of raising a brow in question was often misconstrued as a sign of arrogance. It seemed that in this instance, at least, his friend was correct. He sighed inwardly. He had bungled the opportunity to make a good impression yet again, and was now so self-conscious that he grew silent, in an attempt to preserve what little was left of his dignity, finishing the dance without uttering another word. As soon as the dance was over, she pulled her hand away from his and said,

“You must excuse me, my lord, but I must needs retire. My parents do not like to linger once the dancing is done.”

She hurried away before he could say a word in response, and he watched her disappear from view around a corner. He sighed...once again he had failed to please.

How was he to make sufficient progress to ask the question that would legally betroth her to him, if he couldn’t hold a sensible conversation with Phoebe without boring or offending her? Perhaps it was a good thing that he was returning to London in a few days. Country living grated on him, especially now, when he was feeling so little inclined to appreciate the pleasures of the bucolic life. Maybe when he was back in his own element he would be able to communicate better. He fervently prayed that it would be so.

TWO

“How can Mama and Papa really expect me to marry a man who thinks the sun rises and sets for him?”

Fuming, Phoebe paced before her friend, whom she had come to call on, the day after the ball.

Dorothea Kendall, her friend and confidante, watched her for a moment before replying. “You know that your parents have always been demanding, Phoebe. And as you also know, once they have decided upon a course of action, nothing will deter them. Perhaps it is time to accept this arrangement as inevitable.”

“I find it intolerable, Dorothea,” Phoebe replied. “How can they make an arrangement for me against my will? I have no wish to marry for social advancement. I will only marry a man I love.” Her voice rose in anger, but her friend could clearly also hear a hint of hysteria. Despite her words, Phoebe knew she had no choice in the matter.

“What exactly did Lord Beckton do to set you so adamantly against him?” Dorothea asked.

Phoebe ceased her pacing and sat next to her friend on one of the benches strategically placed about the Kendalls’ large garden.

“It isn’t so much what he did as what he didn’t do,” she said. “Imagine having the chance to woo the woman you intend to marry and to bring her no soft words! Imagine speaking instead of the Luddite uprisings! What care I for them when I have practically been sold to the highest bidder, like meat at the market?”

Unable to remain still, she rose and began to pace once more. “My father and his made an arrangement when I was thirteen,” she said, her voice ringing with incredulity. “Who promises his daughter to a stranger when she is still a mere child?” The anger and hurt she felt were plain to hear. “I understand that our situation is less than my parents would have liked, and I know that they want me to have a better standard of living than they had. And I know that without them arranging an advantageous marriage, I may end up an old maid in distressed circumstances. But it is a risk I am prepared to take, for what is so wrong about wanting to marry for love?”

Dorothea felt her friend’s despair, a she herself was in a similar position, except without the arranged marriage. She had no words for her friend, except a bland promise that things would turn out all right in the end.

“At least you will have the chance to forget about him this weekend,” she said as Phoebe took her seat once more.

“Remember you are invited to our card party on Friday evening.” She paused, and then a smile lit up her countenance.

“As you hold no affection for Lord Beckton, perhaps you might meet someone else. Papa and Mama have invited quite a few of our friends, and one or two of them have sons, who will no doubt come to squander away their money.”

For the first time, Phoebe smiled. “You are a dear friend.”

She reached over to hug Dorothea, wishing she could think of a way to get herself out of her current predicament. She deeply resented being betrothed to anyone without having even been consulted as to her preferences, but short of eloping to Gretna Green with someone, she could see no way out of the arrangement. And as she had no other eligible suitors, she had no other choice. She sighed.

“What of your own prospects, Dorothea?” she asked, releasing her friend. “Is there anyone among the local swains, in whom you are particularly interested?”

Dorothea laughed. “Not a one, my dear. They are all either already spoken for, or else they are buffoons. And as my parents are not as keen to see me married and taken from them, I have time to search further afield.”

“I envy you your freedom,” Phoebe sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to choose or refuse who I spend my time with. But you’re not too keen to marry anyone anyway, are you? The last time we spoke of this, you were vehemently against it, if I recall correctly. Has anything changed in that regard?”

“Not really, but I suppose if someone were to catch my attention, I might be persuaded to change my mind.”

Both ladies chuckled at that.

It was good to laugh, Phoebe thought. She had spent countless sleepless nights worrying over the situation, and over the fact that despite her very real annoyance and resentment at her parents, she could not shake the unwanted attraction she felt towards the man they had chosen for her to marry.

He had been arrogant, self-important, and even rude at the ball, and she had left his side as quickly as she could manage after their dance. But she could not deny that his outward appearance was anything but perfection. His attire bespoke a man of great wealth, though the clothing was understated. It was the cut and the cloth that gave him away.

And his physical presence was also more striking to her than she liked. She didn’t wish to acknowledge even to herself that she liked the way his curly mop of black hair fell around his head, that one wayward curl finding its way repeatedly over his left eye, no matter how often he pushed it back. She’d had the impulse to push it back a time or two herself. And his black eyes snapped and sparkled, though he had barely even looked at her directly while they danced. He had not smiled at her, but she had observed him with his friends, and his smile had been like lightning in a dark sky, illuminating his features, making him positively angelic in aspect. An archangel was nothing by comparison, she thought fancifully, and then frowned. She had no intention of becoming distracted by his beauty when his character was offensive to her.

She ruthlessly pushed the thought of his high cheekbones and square chin from her mind, and asked Dorothea a question instead. “What is it about a man that would make him attractive to
you
?”

Her friend thought for a moment, and then said, “Obviously, I would need to begin with what I can see. I like tall, dark men. Well-defined features are helpful.”

“And once he passes the physical examination?”

“Then he must be intelligent, amusing, and passionately enamoured with me.” She chuckled as she spoke those last words, and Phoebe joined in. “I will not abide a man who would as soon take me as leave me.”

“I must agree with you there,” Phoebe said. “Which is another reason I do not see myself being happy as the wife of
the Lord of Ice
! He is not at all interested in me. He didn’t compliment me on my appearance, or try to convers about
anything
!”

“There is a rumour circulating that he is really extraordinarily shy,” Dorothea said.

Phoebe made a disbelieving noise in her throat.

“Someone of his stature and position, with as much wealth and power as he has, cannot be shy. The man is apparently most eloquent in Parliament! How could he be shy?”

“Stranger things have happened,” Dorothea replied. “Perhaps you made him feel self-conscious?”

Phoebe laughed. “I love your loyalty, Dorothea, but even for you, that is unbelievable. There is nothing about me to generate even the remotest apprehension in anyone.”

“Well, perhaps self-conscious is not the right word. Perhaps cautious? You can be intimidating, you know.”

“Whom? Me? I cannot believe you would say that of me! I do not strike fear into anyone’s heart, believe me.”

Dorothea regarded her with some amusement. “You have no idea how beautiful you are Phe. Some men find a beautiful woman intimidating.”

“There is nothing remarkable in my looks. Besides, how can one’s looks be intimidating?” Phoebe countered.

“How do
you
find Lord Beckton? Assume he was not your betrothed. How would you describe him?”

Dorothea’s question, coming so closely on the heels of her own private thoughts on the subject of her betrotheds looks, startled Phoebe. “Well, I...he’s a very tall man,” she said.

“And?” Dorothea urged her on.

“He has a noble aspect, and handsome features,” she continued reluctantly.

“And?” Dorothea pushed her to continue, a smile forming on her face.

“He seems to be very much in control, self-assured, proud. He carries his head high and holds himself erect at all times. He seems to be a man of temperate habits; I didn’t observe him drink but once.”

“Some people might find that combination intimidating, don’t you think? A short woman, or a man who was less confident in himself? Short men might also find him threatening because he appears well-built.”

“I suppose you could be right,” Phoebe conceded. “I didn’t find him intimidating in the slightest, though.” She curled her lip and frowned.

Dorothea observed her friend keenly for a moment, and then chuckled. “Obviously! But I wager that you liked what you saw.”

Phoebe stood up and paced away, suddenly agitated. Dorothea joined her and they walked around the garden, as it seemed clear that her friend needed to move to keep her thoughts at bay.

“It’s inconceivable to me that I should find such an insufferable man eye-catching, Dorothea! And frankly, it is humiliating!”

“Some of the most handsome and charming men are also some of the worst human beings. We both know this. There are at least two in the village. We all acknowledge their outward appeal to our gender, but only the most desperate women, or those of questionable character, would even consider having anything to do with them.”

“You are right, of course.” She smiled at Dorothea and added resolutely, “I will no longer dwell on it. Shall we return indoors? I’d like a glass of lemonade. It’s such a warm day.”

“You can help me decide what to wear on Friday evening. Perhaps I’ll be lucky and land myself a suitor.”

Both women laughed merrily as they strolled back into the large front hall of the Kendall residence and ascended the stairs. Phoebe was determined to forget about her troubles until she could no longer avoid thinking about them. Her parents, Lord Beckton, and the whole world would just have to move along without her.

THREE

“My lord, I thought that your father had given you all the particulars of the arrangement.”

Lord Beckton glared angrily at his solicitor before throwing himself into the armchair across the desk from the man who looked blandly back at him, undisturbed by his behaviour.

“The extent of my father’s conversation with me is as I have told you, Hemsworth. This was news to me. And I assume it will also be news to Miss Alexander.”

“Her parents and his lordship met with me to discuss the details, and it was agreed that you would marry when she turns twenty-one.”

Lord Beckton thought he espied a moment of compassion in the solicitor’s eyes before he schooled his features to blank legal aloofness once again. Though the man had been with their family, and had become somewhat of a business mentor to the Earl, Hemsworth knew when to retain a professional front.

“How would you like to proceed, my lord?” Hemsworth asked eventually. “Would you like me to arrange a meeting between yourself and her father to review the arrangements?”

Lord Beckton shook his head. “The last thing I want to do right now is meet with a man whose neck I could quite cheerfully wring.” His voice echoed the depth of his irritation and disquiet.

After a moment’s hesitation, the solicitor said quietly, “Forgive me, my lord, but did I misunderstand your words earlier?”

Lord Beckton looked over at him. “What words? What did I say?”

Mr Hemsworth cleared his throat. “You indicated that you had formed an attachment to Miss Alexander in the interim, my lord.” Another pause, and then he said, “I just wondered if I had misinterpreted your intentions.”

Lord Beckton let loose a bitter laugh. “You didn’t misinterpret me, Hemsworth. I find myself in the unfortunate position of being in love with the woman my father and hers have thrust upon me.”

The lawyer scratched his chin, a puzzled look on his face.

“Then sir, I do not understand your reaction to this news.”

“You are a married man are you not, Hemsworth?” Lord Beckton asked in an unexpected change of topic.