Only an Earl Will Do (5 page)

Heat bloomed on her face and the reverence behind his words told the truth he spoke. She cleared her throat. “It’s all in the past, Lord Muir. My feelings toward you were youthful and fickle. I fell in love with Newland, and I married him. No harm done and no need to look into the missing letter.”

“I disagree.” His clipped words were unrelenting and primal.

If he found out about the missing letter he would find out the real reason her father wrote him. She’d be ruined. Samuel would be cast out as a bastard. Her head swam, and she clasped the carriage seat to steady herself.

“Are ye well, Elizabeth? Ye’ve grown quite pale.” Henry clasped her arm, supporting her, and she wished he had not. His nearness had always affected her, made her long for things no well-bred lady should think.

She smiled, nodding. “I’m very well. Perhaps I have sat in the sun a little too long today. I really must return home. Victoria will be wondering where I am.”

“I shall keep ye informed on my progress. Give your sisters my regards.”

She nodded. “I shall. Good-bye.” Elizabeth sighed in relief as the carriage rocked forward and finally out of Henry’s scrutiny. Nerves rolled about her belly like a storm, and a forthcoming sense of disaster settled on her shoulders. This was terrible, worse than she could ever imagine the situation would become.

It was only a matter of time before Henry found out about their child. If the letter stayed forgotten, or better yet, destroyed by whomever decided to meddle, the parentage of Samuel could never be proven. The thought of someone else in the ton knowing the truth was little comfort and more troubling than everything else put together.

…

Later that evening, Elizabeth stood surrounded by the many gentleman admirers who thought they could triumph over her indomitable attitude toward marriage.

They could not. But for a few hours it was fun to forget her worries and enjoy their flirting and humorous bantering all the same. Her sister Alice glided through the throng, looking amused and confident, two traits she’d always wished for within herself. Alice always saw the funnier side of life and what larks one could get up to. She was glad her sister arrived from the country to attend some balls and parties; she’d missed her when at Newland Estate more than any other of her four siblings.

Alice clasped her arm, wrapping it about her own. “Come walk with me. I want to have a little chat.”

Elizabeth bade the gentlemen good night. “What do you want to talk to me about? You seem quite determined.”

“I’ve heard Lord Muir is back in town. Is this true? Has he returned from America a rich man, and seeking a wife?”

Elizabeth sighed, wondering when her sister would take a breath. “Yes. It’s true. Well…” She paused, clasping two glasses of champagne from a passing footman and handing one to Alice, who certainly needed a drink. “The first is indeed correct. He’s back and wealthy, but as for him looking for a bride I could not say.”

“Did you confront him about his denial of you all those years ago? What did he say?”

She pushed the glass up to Alice’s lips. “Drink and take a breath.” Alice smiled but did as she was told.

“I have, and he denies ever knowing of the letter we sent him. Furthermore, he has no idea of the reply that we received.” Elizabeth steered her sister over to a vacant settee that was slightly concealed behind a potted fern.

“That is absurd. Someone must have read and replied to the letters.” Alice paused, sitting and staring ahead at the throng of guests. “His uncle? But then we’re left wondering as to why.”

“Yes, that’s the question. If it was Henry’s uncle who wrote the letter and it was certainly signed by that man, why would he do such a thing? Other than the rivalry he had with Papa all those years ago, but surely he would not act in such an underhanded way.”

“What rivalry?” Alice turned to look at her, and Elizabeth told her of the story of how Henry’s uncle wished to marry their own mama prior to her marrying their father.

“So he sees Mama’s marriage to a duke as a slight against an earl’s second son.” Alice slumped back in her chair and Elizabeth did the same. “I can see why he would hate our family, if that is the case, especially if he loved Mama and was brokenhearted by her marriage to someone else.”

Elizabeth finished her drink, nodding. “If he hadn’t ruined my future, I could almost feel sorry for the man.” To be denied marriage to the one you loved was something Elizabeth had in common with Henry’s uncle.
Infuriating ass notwithstanding.

“And so if Henry is innocent of the crime we laid against him, what are your feelings on the matter? You used to be so close.”

They were once best friends, long before anything romantic had occurred between them. “Nothing has changed, Alice. Don’t you see? If anything, the situation I’m now in is worse.”

“Why?” Alice took her hand, and Elizabeth noted hers was shaking.

“He doesn’t know of Samuel, Alice. Henry has no idea that he even exists.” Tears smarted from behind her lids, and she blinked. “If he finds out who wrote the letter, he’ll find out why we wrote it in the first place. It could ruin my son.”

“Do you not think he deserves to know?”

Elizabeth looked at her sister, wondering if she knew this woman sitting beside her at all. “I cannot tell him. That you must see, and, anyway, Samuel is at Newland Estate for the season; Henry will be back to Scotland soon and never need know of our child.”

“But if he somehow reads or is informed about the letter and its content, wouldn’t it be better to have come from you first? If you spoke to him, surely he would see the dilemma and not create any trouble for you or Samuel.”

If only that were true, but something told Elizabeth should Henry find out about their son he’d want to claim him for his own. Henry had never cared for what society said, or their rules and regulations when it came to what was “correct form” or “acceptable behavior.” “He’ll be angry, and rightfully so. But Samuel is to inherit Newland Estate. Marcus loved the boy and wanted nothing but the best for him. It seems wrong somehow to tell Henry about something that cannot be undone.”

Alice sighed. “Very well. We’ll not say a word about the boy, but you know that it will only take a word from someone else mentioning your son, and he’ll know.”

“But he’ll only know that I birthed a child, not that it is his. Surely he would not suspect anything from such news. And without the letter, nothing can be proven as to Samuel’s parentage.” Elizabeth took a calming breath. “All I can hope is that whoever orchestrated this severing of us is not Henry’s uncle and is no longer interested in our lives.”

“Elizabeth, do be serious. Of course it is his uncle, and Henry will only have to write him to find out the truth. You should prepare yourself for what I fear will be an unstoppable culmination of terrible events.”

Dread pooled in her stomach at the thought and she stood, wanting nothing other than to leave…to hide, to run away.

Her sister stilled beside her and Elizabeth looked to see what had caught her attention. “Oh dear, I see Moore and Miss Hart have arrived.”

Elizabeth nodded, noting Moore’s attention was fixed not on his wife but their sister Isolde across the ballroom floor. “She’s Miss Hart no more, Alice. Should you not call her your grace?”

“She’ll always be Miss Hart to me, which I will admit is the nicest name I can think to call her. There are many others I’d like to use.”

Elizabeth couldn’t agree more. “He cannot take his eyes off of Isolde. I believe he still loves her, you know.”

Alice nodded, gazing at Isolde with pity. “I know, and Miss Hart loves nothing but to flaunt her marriage status before Isolde’s face at any opportunity that arises. That woman is unrecognizable to the girl we grew up with and loved.”

Elizabeth was glad her sister used past tense to describe their feelings toward the duchess. They certainly no longer loved the woman. “Let’s not talk anymore of anything troubling. It’ll ruin the ball for us both if we keep being so dreary.”

Another footman passed them by, and Alice returned their empty glasses before taking two new filled ones. “I’m going to leave you, my dear. I see Lord Arndel has arrived.”

Elizabeth took a sip. “And what do you have to say to our ‘elusive viscount’?”

An impish grin formed on her sister’s lips. “Many things that I’ll divulge in good time, but for tonight I want to let him know I’m here should he wish to further our acquaintance.”

“You are acquainted. He’s our second closest neighbor at Dunsleigh, you silly girl. And don’t be too forward or you’ll have our mother, whom, by the way, is watching from across the room, over here making us dance with the likes of Lord Riddledale.”

Alice chuckled. “We are acquainted, yes, but I wish to be more so. I will see you later.”

Elizabeth smiled after her sister as she all but floated across the room toward the gentleman. Lord Arndel, somehow sensing her sister’s approach, physically stiffened when Alice came to stand beside him. Elizabeth wondered what Alice was playing at. For it seemed to her that his lordship wasn’t at all favorable to a match with the highly placed Lady Alice Worthingham.

“May I have the next dance, Lady Newland?”

Elizabeth strove to quell her racing heart at the sound of the deep baritone behind her. She took a calming breath and turned to face her nemesis, her ruination, her past. She looked up and met Henry’s eyes, and lost herself for a moment in their deep blue depths. Lost herself in the past that had no right to meddle in her future.

“Elizabeth, would ye dance with me?”

The note of need she heard in his voice had her nodding and taking his hand. Damn it, she really ought to learn when to refuse.

She disregarded the warmth that flowed into her limbs as his strong, gloved hand enfolded hers. Ignored the defined muscles beneath his superfine coat that left a fluttering deep in her womb. She had fought hard to forget such feelings. She would not allow him to awaken them now. Not when it was too late.

By the time the dance began, her nerves were beyond repair. Her determination to never allow him to affect her again was a poor showing indeed. She reminded herself she hated him. Hated him to the very pits of Hades. Oh yes, she really hated him. Yet, it was hard to hate someone when he could possibly be innocent of the crime you’d placed against his character…

“Ye’ve changed from the girl I once knew,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Elizabeth kept her eyes focused over Henry’s shoulder and fought not to meet his gaze. She wanted to look at him, wanted to see all the contours of his face this close to hers, if only to remind herself of what she’d once dreamed. “I have changed. And for the better, I believe.”

“In some respects, yes, I’d agree with ye.”

Her eyes narrowed. “In all ways. And anyway,” she continued, “who are you to judge me? A poor earl from Scotland? Or is it an impoverished earl? Or is it now a rich earl trying to win a wife?”

Henry stiffened in her arms, and he yanked her hard against him, leaving her breathless. “Look at me, Elizabeth.”

A moment passed and then, furious at her lack of self-control, she turned and looked at him.

Elizabeth read a multitude of questions in his eyes, along with the hurt she’d intentionally inflicted. She raised her brow, annoyed more at herself that she’d brought up the mention of Henry looking for a wife. Of course he was looking for a wife, and so what if he was? He could do whatever he wanted.

“I’m not sure how it is done in Scotland, but in England, my lord, unless I have given you leave, you will address me as Lady Newland.”

A muscle worked in Henry’s jaw. He swirled them about the floor, their steps gliding and smooth, the opposite of how their conversation was progressing.

“You will not give me leave to address ye as I once did, even in a relative private dance like this one? You are high and mighty now.”

Elizabeth shrugged at the disdain in his voice. “You will address me as Lady Newland or I’ll not speak to you.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw before he averted his attention over her shoulder. “I am no longer ye friend? Is that what ye’re saying?”

They twirled to a stop; Elizabeth stepped back as soon as she was able and curtsied. Hating the fact that his words severed her soul in two. “Lord Muir, only hurt can come from us being acquaintances. I think it best we leave the past where it belongs—in the past—and start our futures as we are now. Apart.”

…

Henry pulled Elizabeth to the side of the room, away from the dancers setting up for a quadrille. “I’m not in agreement. I’ve written my uncle and will know the truth of the letters soon enough, but I do not see why we must be strangers. Enemies, even.”

“He may deny it. He may never have received them and knows nothing of them at all.”

“You talk as if you’d rather me not know why ye wrote me. Are you hiding something?” A light rose flush spread over Elizabeth’s cheeks just as it always had when she was fibbing.

“I hide nothing. I told you,” she whispered. “I thought myself in love with you and wished for you to return. Nothing more, I assure you.”

Henry took a calming breath, wanting to pull the determined, angry minx into his arms and kiss her senseless. Remind her of how well they did together. The two years he’d worked in America, diligently saved and invested until his estate was safe and he had enough funds to marry the minx before him, made her denial of him maddening.

“You married Newland so fast I’m sure had I received ye letter in the first place I wouldn’t have made it back in time.”

Her eyes went wide before they narrowed to piercing slits that, should they be able to throw fire, Henry would be aflame. “You’re an ass.”

Her use of a profanity made him start before he laughed. “Ass? Is that the best ye can do?”

“Here at the ball it is?”

“Come, lass. Why won’t you tell me what ye really think?” He stepped closer, the smell of roses wafting up to tempt his senses. He watched her watch him, and he noted the instant her thoughts went from platonic to, well, not platonic. Right at this moment he wanted to kiss her, pull her close and feel the delicious curves that haunted his dreams. Remind Elizabeth just what she really thought of him…of them.