Intentions of the Earl (27 page)

“I felt like elbowing him again for that
comment, even with Papa standing in the room. Papa said that was
not good enough, since we were going to have to be in one another’s
company for as long as we are in England, we cannot have a rift or
some such nonsense.” Liberty’s tone was bitter and had a bit of
irritation mixed in. Taking a deep breath, she finished her drama.
“Papa kept saying how I was to make amends by doing anything Mr.
Grimes demanded, then he left. I was in that room alone with Mr.
Grimes for no more than two minutes before he started to unbutton
his clothes! So I grabbed the closest book to me and threw it at
his head before I ran from the room screaming.

“That man wants my virtue!” Liberty exclaimed
hysterically, her body started to shake uncontrollably. Her lower
lip quivered, and a sob choked her as she tried to firmly declare,
“I shall not give it!” She swiped at the tears that had snaked down
her cheeks. “Please, Brooke, hide me and go talk to Papa,” she
pleaded “Tell him that…that...creature wants to take away from me
the only thing I truly own.” She fell to the ground and curled up
into a small ball.

Brooke looked to Andrew, hoping that he would
help her down from her mount without her having to ask.

As if he read her mind, he was down and
helping her down as quickly as he could, then led the horses back
to the stables while Brooke comforted her sister.

“Liberty,” Brooke said softly, “have you told
me everything?”

When Liberty shot her a hurt and angry look,
she knew Liberty had not left any details out this time

Why did she always miss these situations
between Liberty and Mr. Grimes? More importantly, what was she
going to do now?

Chapter 22

In the blue salon, Mr. Paul Grimes was lying
unconscious on a settee dreaming of what his life might have been
like had he decided to join the military rather than the
ministry.

He dreamed of horses, swords, guns and the
smell of gunpowder. Oh, that smell seemed so sweet right now. He’d
trade almost everything he had to be in the military and be
smelling gunpowder. He took another deep whiff, trying to sniff up
as much as he could before he woke up to his hellish reality.

“That’s it, take another deep breath,” he
heard a familiar voice coax.

Who was he to argue? He inhaled as deeply as
he could, then coughed. That was not the smell of gunpowder, it was
some nasty smell that he recognized as smelling salts. His eyes
snapped open. He was expecting to see Mrs. Baker, an older woman
from his church who carried around those nasty salts with her
everywhere, but instead he was greeted by John and Carolina
Banks.

Carolina was sitting right next to him on the
settee holding a bag of salts, her husband was sitting in a chair
right next to her. His face looked worried as if he’d been given
bad news about someone and was about to have to break it to
them.

“Mr. Grimes,” John said solemnly.

“Please, call me Paul.”

“Paul,” John started again. “Do you know why
you were unconscious?”

Unconscious, thought Paul. He knew he was
sleeping, but not unconscious. “I was unaware that I was
unconscious,” he replied and tried to force himself to sit up; but
his head began to throb when he moved and he laid back down as
quickly as he could.

With his hand, he reached up to rub his face
and felt a huge bump the size of an egg on his forehead. Then it
all came back to him. The game of bowls, getting hit in the
unmentionables, John seeking him out after the baron told him what
happened, the Banks family meeting, and him and Liberty being alone
for a few minutes.

That last event is what led to his current
headache. He had been so angry and upset that he felt like he was
choking. That’s when the devil in disguise, also known as Liberty,
threw a heavy tome at his head. Once again, her aim had been dead
on and he now sported the bump to prove it.

“On second thought, I do know why I was
unconscious,” he corrected.

Carolina looked relieved that he had figured
it out, clearly she had no idea that it could have been caused by
Liberty.

John, on the other hand, looked almost sick.
He measured his words carefully before he finally spoke. “How did
it come to pass?”

“A flying book,” Paul bit off.

Carolina let out a little peal of laughter.
“A flying book?” she asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“Yes, a flying book,” Paul confirmed
flatly.

Carolina must have really thought he was
delusional because she pressed him, “How did this book take flight?
Did it have wings?” She giggled again at her own joke until John
placed a hand on her shoulder.

Paul had had enough. At present Carolina was
quickly becoming just as irritating to him as Liberty was.
“Actually, the book did not have a pair of wings. It did not need
them. It would seem that your demon…er…I mean daughter, gave the
book enough of a heave that wings weren’t necessary to carry the
book all the way across the room to meet its target: my
forehead.”

Carolina gasped. “I am so sorry. I’m also
sorry for my jest, and I am even sorrier for my daughter’s actions.
I shall speak to her immediately.”

“Why did she throw the book?” John asked
gravely, ignoring his wife’s words, but holding her arm so she
couldn’t find Liberty until they both knew the whole tale.

Paul shrugged. “I haven’t a clue.” He really
didn’t He tried to think back to what had happened. He knew she had
been furious ever since that bowl accidentally hit her foot. He had
tried to stop it, but had not gotten a good hold on it and it kept
rolling. But that was why she elbowed him, not why she threw the
book. His mind raced forward to the conversation in the salon, he
remembered asking that her parents keep her away. He remembered
they wouldn’t agree to that. Then they left.

What happened after they left? Nothing. He
couldn’t remember anything happening at all. They stared at each
other for a moment before he jerked his gaze away. He was so mad he
didn’t want to even see her. He may be a man of God, but he was
still a man, and anger was something he couldn’t always hide.

Paul was trying to think hard about the
earlier events and rubbed his chin. Then his fingers brushed
something. It was his cravat. Why wasn’t that laying flat on his
chest? Then he remembered exactly what happened.

“I do believe I may remember what
transpired.” His face pinched up in confusion. “Though I remember
it, I have no idea why it caused Miss Liberty to throw a book at
me.”

“That’s all right, Paul, just tell us what
happened,” John said as smoothly as he could. His body looked like
it was tensing up and his hand tightened on his wife’s arm. His
face looked especially hard and tortured.

“I was sitting here, wishing she would just
go away, when I started feeling overly warm. I felt like I was
about to choke to death on my own cravat, so I undid it, and the
top button of my shirt in order to get a little air. Less than a
second later, this giant brick of a book came flying at my head.
The next thing I know I’m dreaming of being a soldier and sniffing
gunpowder, which turned out to be Mrs. Banks smelling salts.”

John’s face was blank, except a puckered
brow. “I shall speak to my daughter immediately,” John stated with
such a harsh voice that startled Carolina and Paul so much they
both jumped in unison. John abruptly let go of his wife, shot up
out of his chair and started for the door.

“That will not be necessary…” Paul
started.

John quickly turned back and leveled an icy
glare at Paul. “It is necessary. You stated earlier you wanted to
avoid her presence. Now, you shall have your wish.” John strode
back toward the door then turned back around again to speak to his
wife. “Carolina, after I am finished talking with her she may be in
need of some consoling. That will be your job, be warned.”

John stomped out the door, slammed it, and
stomped as if he were going off to war all the way down the hall in
search of Liberty.

Carolina stayed in the room with Paul and
waved her salts in front of her own face, repeatedly saying, “Oh
dear.”

***

By the time John found his daughter, who had
been hiding from him for several hours, his ire was sky high. He
had long ago decided he was not going to demand a reason for her
actions, nor did he even care what reason she did or didn’t have
for her behavior. He just walked into the room where she was
sitting all curled up on a settee by the window. She had tears on
her cheeks and her face was whiter than a lily with little blotches
of red on her cheeks. He took one look at her and thundered,
“Liberty, your recent behavior toward Mr. Grimes is unacceptable.
From this point forward, you are not allowed out of your mother’s
sight. Is that understood?” John looked over at his daughter who
had not spoken, nor made any move to agree or disagree with his
words. “You will not attend any balls, soirées, or any other social
event until I say that you may. You, young lady, may very well be a
spinster before I let you out into society again!”

“But…but…” Liberty tried to speak between
sobs.

John understood she only wanted to tell her
side of the tale, but he didn’t want to hear a word of it. “That’s
enough,” he barked. “I have made my decision, and it’s final. You
have five minutes to go find your mother. If I see you more than
five paces away from her at any given time, I will personally load
you on the next ship bound for America and you shall go back to New
York alone and wait for us to return.”

Feeling a little stab of guilt at his harsh
words and threat, John decided to duck out quickly before adding to
them with more heartbreaking words. Until today he’d never spoken
so harshly to any of his family, but Liberty was determined to
bring out the worst in him.

Chapter 23

Andrew lay in his bed that night thinking of
Brooke. Her soft skin. Her flowing hair. Her bright smile. Her
delectable body. He even smiled thinking of her bound breasts.

To his mind she was the perfect woman. It was
too bad that she couldn’t be
his
perfect woman. That thought
made his smile disappear.

She could never be his woman. He could not
offer for her, and if he did, she would never accept him after what
was about to happen tomorrow night.

Earlier in the evening he’d planned it all
out. He was going to take her out to the woods promptly after
dinner. He’d suggested to a few of the gentlemen tonight that they
should go out and see Alex’s telescope tomorrow night. Andrew
wasn’t into much astronomy, but he did know a little. He casually
mentioned that some planets could be easily seen tomorrow night.
Whether true or not, he didn’t know, nor did he care. All he needed
was just for a few people to see that Brooke had been
compromised.

The extra benefit to doing it this way was is
that only the truly scientifically interested would be coming out.
Which would be enough for Brooke to be shamed, but this group was
not a bunch of gossips, so the tale was unlikely to spread so
quickly it would cause her any more undue stress. It would spread
of course, but not so quickly that her whole family would be forced
to steal away in the dead of night.

The whole idea made his stomach turn sour.
How could he have ever agreed to such a stupid scheme? What on
earth had possessed him to do so? Until a day or two ago, he'd kept
reminding himself of the money he would be able to earn after he
got the estate back. Not a lot, but enough to get him out of debt
and get on with his life. Then, the money problem seemed to fade
when Willis mentioned the mines. Not that he wanted the mines, but
if there was no other choice he would drill. The problem was he
would still have to come up with the blunt to put the mines in, but
that was minor compared to what he was about to do.

Then he’d tried to use his guilt for his past
relationship with his mother as a reason to go through with it. The
dowager house at Rockhurst had burned down fifty years ago and the
impoverished earl at that time could not afford rebuild it; and no
one since then had bothered to, either. His guilt ate at him. He
had wronged his mother so many years ago by sending her back into
that isolation in Essex all because he couldn’t handle the taunts
and rumors about them and their pasts.

The problem of his mother’s residence could
also be solved by the mines. If they made enough money, he would be
able to build a house wherever she wanted.

So why was he still going to go through with
it?

Then he remembered the written agreement he
had with Gateway. There was nothing written about consequences
Andrew or Brooke would face if he didn’t go through with it, but he
knew there would be. There always were.

More than ten years ago he’d learned that
lesson for himself when he refused to cover for Gateway when he
went out drinking one night and missed a mathematics final the next
morning because he overslept. Not only had he not lied about
Gateway’s whereabouts but he'd refused to tell him what was on the
examination. Later, when Andrew was riding on his way to London, he
was attacked by a band of highway men who had stolen anything
valuable he had with him, including his horse. Then when he was
walking down the road to find a new mount, Gateway came up behind
him and jumped him. They each threw a few good punches, but because
Gateway had the advantage of catching Andrew unawares, he came out
the victor of the fight, if you could call it that. That’s when his
nose got broken and decided to never deal with Gateway again. He’d
held to that well enough for ten years. Now he wished he’d held to
it longer.

Shaking his head, Andrew rolled over, stuffed
a pillow under his stomach and tried to sleep.