The American Earl (25 page)

“It’s not my home,” I said tightly. “I thought it was once, but I have no right to live there. I have no right to any say about what happens to it. I’m not a Marshall; I’m nothing.”

He shook his head so forcefully a lock of hair fell forward onto his forehead, spangling it with silver. “Julia, you are very far from being nothing. You’re one of the bravest, most gallant people I have ever known. And I was in a war, remember, so I know bravery and gallantry when I see it.”

I couldn’t keep looking at him so I turned my back and ran a hand along Ty’s sleek neck. “How is Maria?” I asked, my voice muffled by the silky neck in front of me.

“How do you think she is? She’s beside herself with fear for you. And for herself. Her exact words were that you were the only person who ever loved her and I had to find you. In fact, it was she who had the idea that you might have sought refuge with Sir Matthew.”

“Maria will be all right,” I answered. “She’s a Marshall. Lizzie will look after her.”

“How do you know that Maria’s a Marshall?”

A shock of surprise ran through me and I spun around to face him. “You only have to look at her to know her heritage!”

“The Marshalls are not the only blond, blue-eyed people in England, Julia. In fact, according to Aunt Barbara, Maria may well be the child of a Russian diplomat. A blond, blue-eyed Russian diplomat, who had great musical talent. Or so Aunt Barbara told me.

“I don’t believe you,” I said, but I did.  If my mother had an affair with one man, why could she not have had an affair with another? 

He shrugged.  “What does it matter?  Maria is Maria, a beautiful, talented sweetheart of a girl whom we all love.  I don’t care who her father was.  In fact, I’m glad my uncle wasn’t her father.  Who would want to carry
his
blood in their veins?”

There was a pause as we stood there looking at each other.  We both knew we weren’t talking about Maria.  I said, “Does all of London know about
Maria’s
illegitimate birth?”

Again, he gave that casual shrug. “According to my aunt, the English aristocracy is packed with children whose father wasn’t their mother’s husband. Since this practice is so common, it’s ignored. Apparently, as long as no one talks about it, it isn’t there.”

I heard a voice calling my name and looked across the lawn to see a broad, slightly bow-legged figure coming across the grass.  “It’s Sir Matthew,” I said.  “I don’t believe you two have met.”

Evan swung around to face the lawn and we both waited in silence until Sir Matthew reached us. He immediately put a protective hand on my shoulder and asked, “Are you all right, lass?”

I felt my eyes fill with tears.  Tears.  Me.  I never used to cry and now it seemed as if I was crying all the time.  But it was so sweet to know how much he cared for me. 

I blinked the wretched tears back and said, “Sir Matthew, may I present the Earl of Athorpe, Evan Marshall.”

I deliberately defied the rules of etiquette by introducing Evan to Sir Matthew instead of Sir Matthew to Evan. I knew Evan wouldn’t care about the etiquette, but it made me feel good to give the honor to Sir Matthew.

Evan extended his hand and Sir Matthew took it. 

“I have come to return Julia to her family, sir,” Evan said.

He was the only peer in England who would have addressed Sir Matthew, a mere baronet, as ‘sir.’ I knew it was his American belief in equality, and I loved him for it.

Sir Matthew said, “Julia came to me because she discovered the truth about her birth, my lord. She is very distressed by what she has learned. May I ask what the family’s intentions are toward Julia now?”

“They are as they have always been,” Evan replied.  “She was raised as the daughter of the Earl and Countess of Althorpe and so society and her family will continue to regard her.  If I return her to London at once, no one need know about her abrupt departure.”

Sir Matthew’s hand pressed more firmly into my shoulder.  “And what kind of future do
you
envision for her, my lord?”

I thought it was time to speak up for myself. “I don’t want to marry any of those men I met in London. The only person I liked was Tom, and look what happened there!”

Evan gave me a long, blue look.  “What
do
you want, Julia?”

I couldn’t tell him what I wanted because what I wanted was impossible. “I want to remain here with Sir Matthew,” I said defiantly.

Evan and Sir Matthew exchanged a long, silent look. Then Sir Matthew said quietly, “You haven’t answered my question, my lord. What kind of future do you see for Julia?”

Evan’s mouth set into a grim line. “This is not exactly how I planned to say this, but I suppose I must. I envision Julia’s future to be with me. I want to marry her.”

Sir Matthew dropped his hand from my shoulder and went to shake Evan’s hand. “Good lad,” he said, enthusiastically pumping away. “Good lad.”

My head was spinning. Had Evan really said he wanted to marry me? I looked at the two men, shaking hands so heartily, as if they’d made a bargain between them.

Well, they had made a bargain, I thought.  Evan felt sorry for me. He knew I had no place to go, so he had offered to take me on, the way he had offered to give me a season and bought me a horse. He felt responsible for me.  And my darling Sir Matthew approved.

I would not allow it.  My whole heart and body cried out for Evan, but I would not saddle him with a wife he didn’t want, a wife who could only be a burden to him.  A wife who was afraid to go to America.

I set my jaw and said, “Well, I don’t want to marry you.”

Once again the two men looked at each other over my head. I wanted to scream.

“I’ll take her back to Stoverton with me for the night,” Evan said to Sir Matthew.  “No one needs to know we were there together. Then, tomorrow, I’ll take her back to London.”

I looked at Sir Matthew, knowing he would never agree to such an improper situation. “An excellent plan, my lord,” he said. “I’ll tell anyone who asks that Lady Julia was with me.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I looked at my dear and only friend and protested, “I can’t be alone with Evan at Stoverton, Sir Matthew!  It isn’t proper.”

Evan put his hand on my arm and started to march me toward the curricle.  “I never thought to hear
you
worry about what was proper or improper, Julia.”

I tried to pull away from him, but I couldn’t. 

Sir Matthew said, “I’ll have someone bring Ty over to the Stoverton stables.  Toby can look after him.”

“Sammy can bring him,” Evan said.

Sir Matthew nodded.

Evan picked me up as if I weighed nothing and plopped me in the curricle seat. He swung quickly into the driving seat, took up the reins and began to turn the horses. I looked over my shoulder at my protector. “Are you going to let him kidnap me, Sir Matthew?”

“Go along with you, lass, and listen to his lordship.  He’s a good’un and if you do as he says, you’ll end up just fine.”

The horses broke into a trot and I had to clutch the seat to keep my balance. 

“I’m not going to talk to you,” I said to the profile next to me.

“Well, I am going to talk to you,” he replied, and the horses trotted faster.

Chapter Thirty-five

I stared straight ahead during the drive and refused to speak. After making one or two attempts at conversation, Evan gave up. The entire drive was made in silence.

My first view of golden Stoverton almost broke my heart.  I loved it so much that I wished I could stretch out my arms and embrace it.

Stop this, Julia, I told myself.  You’re an interloper here now.  Stoverton belongs to Evan; there’s no place for you at Stoverton any longer.

Evan stopped the horses in front of the great oak door and Peter came out almost immediately to help me down and take in the luggage. Evan was busy with the horses, so I took Peter’s hand and jumped down from the seat.

“I don’t have any luggage, Peter,” I said coldly. “You can take his lordship’s.”

“I’m afraid I have no luggage either,” Evan said. He had secured the horses’ reins and descended from the high seat. “Lady Julia and I plan to stay just the one night. We’ll be off to London in the morning.”

Peter’s eyebrows twitched, but he said only, “Very good, my lord. I shall have your bedroom and Lady Julia’s prepared.”

“Thank you,” Evan said. He took my elbow into his large hand and prepared to march me into the house. I was not enamored of these strong man tactics and pulled my arm away. “I can walk by myself, thank you,” I informed him, and swept ahead of him through the front door.

My heart cramped with love as I stood in the main hallway.  Stoverton.  I simply could not stop loving it even though I knew I had to put it behind me. It had belonged to a Marshall for many centuries and it must remain in the hands of a Marshall. 

The hall was cold, but then we had stopped heating this part of the house during my mother’s time. 

My mother.  I had tried not to think about her, about her betrayal of her husband and of Maria and me.  She may not have loved my father – my
alleged
father – but she had sworn a solemn vow to be faithful to him. 

I had no sympathy for my mother.

Evan took my elbow once again and guided me through the old part of the house. I didn’t pull away this time – I needed his support. I would miss this house for the rest of my life.

We ended up in the library. Lucy was starting the fire as we came in the door and Evan said, “Will you make sure a fire is lit in my rooms, Lucy?”

She bobbed a curtsy, “Yes, my lord.”

He hadn’t told her to light a fire in my bedroom, but I held my tongue. I knew Lucy would take care of me.

The library door closed behind Peter leaving Evan and me alone. My heart began to beat faster and I said,  “There’s no use in arguing, Evan. I will never marry you. I know you think you’re obligated to offer for me, but my answer is no.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood looking at me with intent blue eyes, overpowering me with the force of his closeness. The air between us seemed to swell and throb and it took all my willpower to keep from moving toward him.

He said, “I don’t want to marry you because I feel obligated to, I…”

I jumped in, cutting him off.

“I said I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t know why you insisted on bringing me here, but I am going to my room right now. I’ll be ready for you to take me back to Sir Matthew’s in the morning.”

Evan’s narrowed eyes had turned dark blue and were radiating such intensity that I shivered.  He said, “Let’s not talk then,” and before I realized what was happening, he had pulled me into his arms and was kissing me.  My whole body jolted at the touch of his mouth and, after a very brief moment, I kissed him back.  I simply couldn’t stop myself. 

He kept kissing me and kissing me until I was so dizzy I couldn’t think. My arms were around his waist and I clung to him, afraid I would fall apart if I let go.

Finally he lifted his head. He was breathing hard and the expression on his face stabbed into me like a knife. He said, “I don’t want to marry you because I feel sorry for you. I want to marry you because I love you.”

I had never heard such beautiful words. “You do?” My voice was shaky.

“Yes. I love you and I want to marry you. How about you, Julia?”

My heart was ringing like a cacophony of bells. He had said he loved me and I believed him. I rose on my toes and put my hands on his shoulders. “I love you too,” I said and lifted my face to his.

This time his tongue pressed against my mouth and I opened my lips and let him in. The only light in the room was coming from the coals in the fire and the darkness seemed to breathe around us. The rhythm of his body beat against me and I pressed against him, filled with a fierce, aching passion I had not known existed.

When he put his hands on my shoulders and held me away, I almost stumbled. I looked up, not understanding his abrupt withdrawal. His face was hard with passion and his hair was disordered. Dimly I remembered running my hands through it. “Is something wrong?” I asked.

“We have to stop this Julia. If I keep kissing you like this I won’t be able to stop at all.”

He was such a wonderful man and I loved him so much. “Why should we stop?” I asked.

His eyes sparked blue fire and he stepped away from me, resisting temptation. “Because we’re not married.”

“But we’re going to be married, aren’t we?”

“We most certainly are, and as soon as possible.”

“Then what difference does a few days, or weeks, make?” Part of me couldn’t believe I was saying this, but a bigger part of me didn’t care. We were here together, we could do as we pleased, and he was mine.

I could see him struggle to do the right thing – or what he thought to be the right thing. I took his hand and said, “Let’s go to your bedroom.”

Suddenly he grinned. “You are diabolical, do you know that?”

I smiled back. “That’s why you love me.”

He groaned. “God help me, it’s true.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my palm. Then he folded my fingers over the kiss, picked me up and carried me to where I wanted to be.

* * * *

The earl’s bedroom had a fire just starting up in the fireplace.  Evan laid me on the big bed and, as I looked up at him, the moonlight from the uncovered window fell upon him, silvering his hair and face.  For a moment he looked like one of those Greek gods I had read about in the library here at Stoverton, but then he leaned over me, blocking the moonlight with his shoulders, and he was Evan again.

“You are so beautiful, Julia,” he said, his voice thicker than usual. “Let me take that tie out of your hair.”

I sat up a little so he could reach behind me to until the ribbon that held my hair away from my face. He smoothed one of the long shiny black locks between his fingers. “So beautiful,” he said, and lifted the strand to his lips.

“You’re the one who’s beautiful,” I said.