Only an Earl Will Do (13 page)

A knock on the door sounded, and their butler bade entry. Josh called him into the room.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Your Grace, but Louise our parlor maid was coming back from an errand and happened upon a missive two blocks from here. She picked it up to see who it was addressed to, hoping to find its rightful owner, and recognized Lord Muir’s name and address.”

“Pass it to me please, John.” Elizabeth took the note, frowning. “This is the letter I sent Lord Muir. Why would it be on the ground?” Elizabeth could hear the butler shuffling behind her, unsure if his presence was needed. “John, can you please fetch my maid Tippy.”

“Of course, Lady Newland.”

Their old retainer backed out of the room, and she looked at Josh. “Surely Lord Riddledale is not still stealing our mail?”

“He wouldn’t dare.”

Elizabeth started at her brother’s ire. “Do not for one moment think he’s incapable of doing such a thing. He’s the worst of men.” No better than a lowbred whelp who stole and ruined people’s lives.

“If the mail is still being circumvented through him, someone here is working for him.”

A cold shiver ran down her spine. Her brother was angry and rightfully so, and so was she. With the turnover of staff in large estates like the ones they had, Elizabeth had just assumed that the person helping Lord Riddledale two years past had changed employment. But maybe she was wrong. Was the marquis still screening all their correspondence? “I thought it had stopped, but for this letter to be found so…” She chewed her bottom lip. Maybe it was an innocent mistake by a maid and she was too scared to own up to the error of losing her letter.

Another discreet knock sounded before Tippy, her maid, walked into the room, her gaze a little frightened. Elizabeth stood and went to her. “Tippy, I wanted to confirm that you placed the missive I gave you yesterday afternoon on the salver in the front hall.”

“I did, my lady.”

“Do you know who takes the letters from there to their destinations?” His grace asked, smiling a little to put the servant at ease.

Her maid froze like a frightened mouse before a cat. “No, your grace, I do not.”

Their butler cleared his throat. “If I may, your grace, I believe I know who took the note.”

“Who?” Both Josh and her asked in unison.

“An upper housemaid by the name of Kate.”

Josh leveled the butler with a cold stare that Elizabeth had often seen on her father’s face. Wow, he really was the duke.

“And this maid is not before me, why?”

The butler shifted on his feet, a light sheen of sweat forming on his brow. “She’s gone, your grace. Packed up her room and left this morning, or so the kitchen staff said. I think it’s safe to say whatever she was about was not in this family’s interest.”

Josh glowered but nodded. “Thank you for your assistance in this matter. You’re both dismissed.”

Elizabeth waited for the door to close before she spoke. “So it would seem Riddledale’s still rifling with our business. It’s almost too radical to believe.”

“Yes,” Josh said, his voice thrumming with anger. “And I will deal with his lordship in due course over this. I cannot believe a man would act in such an underhanded way. And all to procure a wife. It’ll be a miracle if I keep my countenance at today’s meeting.”

“I’m sorry for all this trouble, truly, Josh. But we will best him. I promise you.”

He chuckled, but it was without mirth, only revenge. “I hope so, sister. I do hope so.”

Chapter Twelve

Dinner at the Kinruths’ home was a delightful diversion for an evening out. Her sister, Isolde, had come to know the family well when living at Avonmore in Scotland, since they were her closest neighbors for miles around.

Once seated, Elizabeth was pleasantly surprised to be beside Henry for the dinner. Footmen entered the room, all wearing the same dark maroon livery and severe blank stares as they went about the table with their occupation.

The first course of oysters was placed before them, and Elizabeth couldn’t concentrate on the seafood, but only on the man seated to her right who seemed to take up all the available air in the room.

His presence, his undivided attention toward her, left her as breathless as if they’d swam a race across the pond at Dunsleigh as they had as children. He was such an attractive gentleman, his presence commanding her absolute notice, and over the years they’d been apart he’d grown into a handsome, confident man who left her a little discombobulated and not always as sure of herself as she’d like to be.

“This is a novel experience, Lord Muir. Not something I would have thought possible only a few weeks ago,” Elizabeth whispered, leaning toward him.

His knowing chuckle rumbled through her and made her hands shake. She stole a sideward glance and devoured every hard line and muscle she could see. Her hold on the silver cutlery tightened as his smile drew her attention to his mouth. Lips that she’d kissed, wanted to kiss again…devour.

She swallowed and looked away.

“I’m glad we’re no longer estranged.” He sat back, placing his mouth closer to her ear. “Have I told ye how beautiful you look tonight, lass?” The hair beside her neck tickled with the air of his breath.

Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, praying she wouldn’t blush. A devilish part of her reveled in the fact she was
finally
feeling something again, after years of feeling nothing at all. But a dinner party was hardly the place for flirtation, although she suspected Henry was well on the way to making a sport of this evening. “You had not, but thank you, that’s very kind, my lord.”

“Henry.”

Elizabeth smiled and turned to fork the first oyster into her mouth, conscious of
Henry
watching her every move. She took great pains of making the most of pulling the oyster slowly from her fork, closing her eyes, and humming her enjoyment in the slimy little thing’s texture.

He shifted in his seat, pulling at his cravat a little. “Ye seem to be enjoying ye meal.” He raised his brows, and she grinned.

“I am. Immensely so.”

“Are ye always so vocal when ye eat? I don’t remember ye being so.” Henry finished off his last oyster, the laughter in his gaze making her smile.

“I’m only vocal about things that I’m passionate about.”
Now who was flirting?

He shook his head, his attention snapping to her lips. “And you’re passionate about oysters. You used to hate them.”

Elizabeth placed a third in her mouth, the salty, slimy feel of it against her tongue making her stomach roll, but teasing him was so much more fun, and she could stomach some oysters to gain his undivided attention. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me anymore, Henry. I don’t mind seafood now, although you’re right, I used to hate oysters.”

“Liar.” He laughed, waving over a footman to gain his attention. “Please bring Lady Newland the second course. The oysters are not to her taste.”

Elizabeth watched as her plate was swiftly removed and soon replaced with a delicious lobster soup. “Thank you. You’ve saved me from an uncomfortable night of stomach pain.”

“Ye’re very welcome, lass.”

At the sound of his deep, rumbling voice, she met his hungry gaze and realized it had nothing to do with the food before them. The hum of conversation dissipated around them, and she fought to gain her breath. Henry’s suit, cravat, and highly starched shirt gave him the airs of a gentleman, and yet his hair, longer than it ought to be, the prickling of stubble across his jaw, the solid, muscular shoulders that belonged more in Gentleman Jackson’s fighting saloon than at a dinner table, went against the sublime effect of his attire.

His gaze snapped to her lips, the muscle in his jaw flexing. Images of them together at the lake, their last day together, assailed her mind so that she could almost feel the cool grass beneath her dress, the raspy breath of Henry as he said her name over and over as they… The clearing of her brother’s throat pulled her back to reality.

Josh threw her a scathing look across the table before he turned back to his meal, jabbing at his soup like he held a fork instead of a spoon. She felt the loss of Henry’s attention like a stab to the heart when he returned to his meal.

“I purchased a new curricle last week. May I call on ye tomorrow and take ye out in it?”

Elizabeth masked her delight at his invitation. She told herself again, such things were what friends did together, but it was a falsehood. She reveled in the fact Henry wanted to spend time with her. Wanted her all to himself just as she wanted to have him all to herself as well.

“I would like that very much.” Their gazes held, and she lost herself in his blue eyes as dark as a swirling sea. “Thank you for asking me.”

“My pleasure.”

The words
my pleasure
rolled off his Scottish tongue and she shivered, her body aching in places she’d never thought would ache again. Heat bloomed beneath her gown and she took a sip of wine to hide her embarrassment. Her brother watched them, his eyes narrowed and darting from Henry to herself and back to his food.

Elizabeth knew what he was thinking, and he had every right to, for she was thinking the same. She’d been married, after all, and the marriage bed, although nothing like the pleasure she felt at Henry’s touch, was not abhorrent with Newland. Quite the opposite, in fact, and there was something about sleeping with a man that Elizabeth had the niggling feeling there was a lot more to enjoy, to sample, and experience.

She grinned down at the third course of braised turkey and seasonal vegetables. They were toying with each other, something they hadn’t done in eons. For the first time in an age, Elizabeth felt happy, alive again in the presence of a man, and it was an intoxicating, delightful sensation that one could get used to.

…

The female party gathered a short time later in the drawing room for card games and music. Elizabeth sat with her mother and waited for Josh to join them. Her eyes stole to the mantle for the millionth time. They would leave soon and still the gentlemen hadn’t joined them.

Having not had the time to speak to Josh about his meeting with Riddledale, Elizabeth was impatient to find out how it went. As for the dinner tonight, Riddledale hadn’t sought her out or been inappropriate, which gave her an inkling of hope that her brother had succeeded with his request, and Riddledale was holding off his threats.

Elizabeth stood and walked to the terrace doors, seeing that the bright moon sprinkled the garden with dappled silver light. The peaceful tranquility of the grounds was the complete opposite to her nerves, which would not settle until she knew Josh had been successful with their plan. Looking about the room, she noted no one taking any heed of her whereabouts and slipped out onto the terrace.

The cool night air made her shiver in her silk gown and the smell of coal smoke masked the sweet-smelling flowers that lined the garden beds. She walked along the flagstones toward the darkened part of the terrace and leaned over the railing, looking up at the moon.

“Are ye well, lass?”

Elizabeth stifled her scream and clasped her chest. “Henry.” She sighed, her heart hammering hard against her ribs. “You must stop startling me. I’ll scream one day.” She chuckled a little to break the tension thrumming between them. “What are you doing skulking about outdoors?”

“I know when ye’re lying, and ye are now.” He joined her at the balustrade and leaned against the stone. “Something is on ye mind. Tell me what it is.”

Only you. Us. The dreadful secret I still keep from you
… They were so close she could feel the warmth of his body down her side, and she shuffled a little closer, wanting his heat to enfold her, to warm her. “It’s nothing really. Josh has some news that I’m hoping is good. I thought to have known before arriving tonight, but I’ve yet to talk to him.”

Henry frowned, contemplating her words before he said, “Does it have anything to do with Lord Riddledale?”

She looked up at him sharply, wondering if he’d noted anything during after-dinner drinks. “What made you ask that?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking at her in disbelief. “Our lives at present seem entwined with the fellow, so one does naturally assume. Also, ye brother and his lordship were ill at ease with each other just now. It made me suspect somethin’ had occurred between them and not to Riddledale’s liking.”

Elizabeth turned to face him fully, hope blooming in her heart. “Did he?” She nibbled her bottom lip, fighting a smile. “Did they speak at all? Or were they avoiding each other?”

“They spoke, but greetings only.” Henry let out a rueful laugh. “I almost felt sorry for Riddledale. Ye brother seemed less pleased with him than he was with me, and that’s something I dinna think anyone else could accomplish.”

Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head at Henry’s attempt at a joke. She ran her hand down his lapel without thinking. “Nothing will ever persuade me to feel sorry for Riddledale, but I’m glad to think that you and Josh may be friends again one day.”

…

Friends?
Henry didn’t think the Duke of Penworth would feel friendly toward him if he knew what thoughts Henry was currently occupied with.

His delectable lass seemed to realize her hand was scorching its way down his chest, and she pulled it away quickly. She went to leave, and he clasped her arm, pulling her up against him. The action made her gasp, and he wanted to hear such sounds, and more, wanted to feel her heat, her heart, everything against his.

The softness of her arm marked him like a burn, and he reveled in her touch before propriety made him rethink his seduction of her. It was probably a wise decision for Elizabeth, as he’d already flirted enough with her throughout dinner to set tongues wagging. Touching her on a darkened terrace was risking their reputations and his self-restraint just a little too far. Being a gentleman would only keep her safe to a point…

“What was ye brother going to disclose to ye tonight?” He wondered at her continued silence, but stopped himself from pushing her on the subject. His mind raced with the possibilities. Had Lord Riddledale threatened Elizabeth further? Had the fiend tried his wiles on her? His fists clenched at his sides; imagining such horrors was beyond endurance.

She sighed, her face clouding with frustration. “Josh had a meeting today with Lord Riddledale. His lordship had threatened to announce our betrothal in the papers, which I have not agreed to. He’s gone mad, I’m sure.” She paused. “Josh was going to try to make him see sense that in pushing me on the subject of marriage through such threats would not secure my affections in the matter. We need the letter in our hands before Riddledale loses all patience and acts on his threats.”

Henry’s teeth clenched at the thought of Elizabeth married to the bastard just to escape scandal marring the family. At the thought of someone else laying claim to her, touching her in the way a husband ought to touch his wife, with reverence, care, and pleasure, was enough to pull a red haze over his eyes.

“It would seem by Riddledale’s less than pleased visage that his grace got his way with his request. And I promise ye, lass, we’ll take back the letter that is rightfully ours, and we’ll be free to go on with our lives in whatever way we wish.”

She looked back over the garden, giving him a view of her perfect profile. Sweet nose, full lips, eyelashes that were long enough to see blinking in the moonlight.

“I’m hopeful this is what occurred.” Her usually smooth brow marred for a moment. “Josh is displeased and knows everything about our plans and what Riddledale has been about these last weeks.”

“Riddledale will not be the victor in this war, Elizabeth.”

She met his gaze, her teeth working her bottom lip. His attention snapped to the delectable sight even knowing he didn’t need to be distracted by her person right at this moment. “Sometimes I want to forget London, the ton, and even my family and return to Newland Estate and live in peace, where no one will bother me or care what I do.”

Henry reeled at her words. Running his hand over his jaw, he wondered what could possibly pull her to an estate that was no longer hers. Yes, she’d married Newland, but that was as far as the relationship went. “Why would you return to Newland Estate? Surely whoever was next in line to take up the viscountcy has done so.”

She paled, her gaze snapping to his. “He’s learning all that he can at this time, but it’s no small undertaking, and the heir has a lot to learn, as he is very young.”

“And so ye will be free to marry whomever ye choose? To live as ye please without any threats from Riddledale?”

“Yes. Well,” she paused, “I certainly hope that’s the case.” She sighed, turning back to face him fully. “It’s complicated, Henry, and I never thought to marry again, as I said before.”

A twinge of regret pierced him, knowing that was true, but it wasn’t something he’d allow. Elizabeth was too young to give up on life, to not love as he knew she was capable of loving. “No more talk of Riddledale for tonight. He’s taken up enough of our time for one evenin’.”

She seemed to shake herself from her thoughts, smiling. “I agree.” They both looked up at the night sky, the bright moon high above them. “Do you remember when we would lie out under the stars and try to count them all, or see what animal shapes they could be made into?”

“I always came up with the best animals; all you could ever see were cats.”

She laughed at his teasing. How he loved the sound, and he knew, down to his very core, it was something he’d always strive to hear.

“I’ll have you know they were always different breeds of cats, not one and the same.”