Twilight with the Infamous Earl (11 page)

Or foolish enough.

The earl could be a deadly foe.

“So why Nox?” he asked, though she was not fooled by his casual tone.

“I beg your pardon?”

He smiled humorlessly. “Do not be coy, Emily. Why has Nox caught your interest?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I never said that I was curious about your club,” she replied with honesty. She had been unaware of Lord Chillingsworth’s connection to Nox when she expressed her frustration that evening to the group of ladies. “If you are listening to gossip, you have to concede that truth is often in short supply.”

“So indulge my curiosity. Why is a beautiful lady dabbling in such risky amusements?”

Although he was not glancing in her direction, she could not resist shrugging. “With my father and soon my brother immersed in the law, the subjects of crime and injustices have often been debated at our family table.”

“So you are a bluestocking?” He shook his head, his handsome face contemplative as he attempted to figure out her motives. “No, that is not enough.”

“You are referring to several conversations, my lord, that you were not even around to witness,” she said, not bothering to hide her frustration. “You credit me with too much ambition.”

“I disagree.” He spared her a quick glance. “Lest you forget, I was present for your confrontation with Katie’s stepfather.”

She scowled but did not contradict him.

“You have plenty of ambition, Emily. Heart and courage, too. I want to understand why this business about the clubs is so personal for you.”

Emily did not immediately reply, silently debating whether she should tell him the truth. Finally, she said, “It involves my sister.”

“The younger one who has a twin?” He answered his own question before she could reply. “No, it must be the older one. The one who died.”

“Yes,” she said, treading carefully around the uncomfortable subject.

His brow furrowed. “Forgive me for being indelicate, but I see no way to avoid it. Does your sister’s death have anything to do with why the crimes on King Street and the surrounding area have upset you?”

“No. Why would you assume that?” The wrenching painful twist that she felt in her chest was a familiar companion whenever Lucy was mentioned. “My sister took her own life,” Emily said dully. “The details are not known outside my family, so if I hear any gossip I’ll know its source.”

“Are you threatening me, my dear?” he teased, echoing her earlier question.

She did not have to think about it. “Yes,” she said a bit too sweetly.

Frost tipped back his head and laughed. “Just another reason why you intrigue me, Emily.”

“I cannot fathom why,” she muttered. It would be best if he stayed away from her.

“Seeking compliments?” he asked, his voice stroking her like silk. “Come closer, and I shall whisper them in your ear.”

“No, thank you,” she said crisply, using the ice in her voice to conceal her delicate shudder at the thought of his mouth and breath so close to her ear.

“We’ll save that for another time.” He sighed. “So you lost your sister. You have my sympathies. Though, if you want my opinion, your sister was a selfish chit for hurting the very people who obviously cherished her.”

Emily sucked in her breath. Over the years, as she had watched her mother and father grieve the loss of their daughter, the same traitorous thought about her sister’s selfishness had crept into her head. “You, of all people, have no right to mock my grief or my sister’s death.”

“My darling girl, I am not mocking anyone,” he countered, sounding slightly peeved. He explained, “Life is to be celebrated and treasured, and while your loss is tragic, it is even more so since your sister’s foolishness is contagious.”

Emily gaped at him in astonishment. “Contagious? Were you not listening? My sister did not die of a disease.”

It was her spirit that had wasted away.

He flashed an impatient glance in her direction. “I am referring to this nonsense of you challenging criminals and club owners because you do not approve of how they go about their business.”

“I haven’t done anything,” she protested. If he persisted in beleaguering her about his beloved Nox, she might be tempted to do something that would truly upset him.

“Nothing too troubling,” he amended in a futile attempt to calm her down. “Yet. But you cannot dismiss that you have sown a few seeds of dissent within certain circles.”

“Good heavens, you are behaving as if I wield influence over these ladies. Though it is no business of yours, I only participated in several conversations on the rising crime in London. All I am guilty of is offering my opinion.”

As they drew nearer to the entrance of the park, Emily noted that the number of carriages and pedestrians had increased. She had been so distracted by her argument with Frost that she had not noticed they were no longer alone.

It was then that she observed a gentleman on horseback approaching from the opposite direction. She brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the sunlight. Emily had been in such a rush to whisk the earl out of the house that she had forgotten to bring her parasol. The blond-haired gentleman was impeccably dressed, and his looks were passable. She might have given him only a passing glance if she did not recognize him.

“Miss Cavell,” he said politely, touching the brim of his hat out of respect as his gaze shifted to Lord Chillingsworth. “Always a pleasure to see you again. London life suits you.”

The man did not alter his casual pace, nor did her companion slow down the phaeton.

“Why, thank you”—oh, bother, what was the man’s name?—“uh, Mr. Hal—”

“Halward,” Frost said though clenched teeth.

The earl did not acknowledge the man in any other way. If there was history between the two, neither intended to mention it in her presence.

His horse and their carriage passed by each other, and Emily had to look over her shoulder to see the man’s reaction. She caught a glimpse of the slight smirk on Mr. Halward’s face before he turned away and continued down the road.

Frost literally vibrated with suppressed fury. “You have chosen a very perilous path, Miss Cavell. One that I order you to reconsider,” he said grimly.

Emily did not understand why he was so upset with her. Nevertheless, she did not appreciate his bossy tone. “You are not in a position to order me about, Lord Chillingsworth!”

His thunderous expression had her shrinking away from him. “Press me, and you will find out what I am capable of doing when I am provoked.”

Emily wisely decided not to say another word until they reached Lord and Lady Pashley’s residence.

Chapter Thirteen

Regan hurried from the garden terrace cuddling her tired son when she heard her brother’s voice from within the house. “Frost has arrived with Miss Cavell,” she announced, turning away from the open doors and approaching her husband, Vane, and Sin, who had been quietly debating politics around a nearby table.

“Are you planning to scold him for being late?” Dare asked.

Regan rolled her eyes. “There isn’t much point. He is always late.”

Often she wondered if he was putting up with the lot of them. If she pressed him too hard, she feared that he would stop coming at all.

“Well, he might have a good reason,” Sin said distractedly as he watched his gleeful wife give Reign’s croquet ball a good wallop and sent it rolling across the lawn. Saint, Hunter, Grace, and Sophia applauded. Reign, noticing his friend’s regard, gestured for him to do something about Juliana.

Unsympathetic, Sin shrugged. Reign was probably losing. Again.

“I hope so,” Dare replied, sounding amused. “It was the reason why I asked Regan to give him the task.”

Understanding lit Vane’s gaze. “So she is beautiful?”

“Stunning.” Dare said, giving his wife a sheepish grin when she frowned at him. “And a redhead. Though from the look of things the other night at the Fiddicks’ ball, Frost is already captivated by the lady.”

Regan’s frown deepened at the news. “Emily is a friend. I will not have Frost seducing her just because he has a fondness for redheads. I expect all of you to make certain he behaves himself.”

She did not bother to wait for a reply from her husband and their friends. All of them loved her brother as much as she did. Rubbing her son’s back, she tilted her head and noted that he was almost asleep. She slowly moved toward the open door.

They had a full house this afternoon. Juliana and Reign were playing a boisterous game of croquet, while Catherine, Isabel, and Dare’s fifteen-year-old niece were walking the garden paths.

It was not until she stepped into the library that she heard the angry voices downstairs. Who the devil was Frost shouting at? Her housekeeper appeared in the doorway, and she looked as worried as Regan.

“Madam, we have a small problem,” the older woman began.

“I will take care of it,” Regan assured her. “Could you take Bishop upstairs? He just fell asleep.”

She handed her son to the housekeeper.
Thank you,
she mouthed, and headed toward the stairs to see what all the commotion was all about.

*   *   *

“Come with me.”

A soft gasp escaped Emily’s lips when Frost took her hand and led her upstairs instead of following the housekeeper to one of the doors that would have taken them outdoors.

“Where are we going?” she said, slightly breathless as she was forced to keep up with his long stride. “Your sister is outdoors with—”

“My sister will wait. You and I have a few things to discuss, and I prefer to keep our chat private.”

“Is this about Nox?” she asked, trying to understand what was driving his temper. “I told you everything that—”

“Forget about Nox for a moment,” he snapped, striding by what she deduced was the Pashleys’ drawing room.

Likely a frequent guest in his sister’s residence, he navigated the maze of passageways as if it were his own. He halted in front of a closed door, opened it, and peeked inside. Satisfied that it was empty, he stepped in. “Come.” With his hand firmly entwined with his, she followed.

It was a small anteroom that with a narrow arched window at the end. Four heavy benches covered with dark blue and gold silk were positioned along the wall. Above, Etruscan vases of various sizes were on display.

“No one should bother us,” he offered as an explanation on why he had selected this particular room.

“Fine,” Emily said with a delicate toss of her head. Free to roam the narrow confines of the room, she walked over to one of the cushioned benches and sat down. “Ask your questions.”

“Halward,” he said succinctly. “How are you acquainted with the man?”

“Why?”

“Indulge me,” he said, taking the seat opposite her.

She saw no reason not to humor him. “I have met him twice. The first time was in the drawing room of a Mr. Reid. He is an acquaintance of my father.”

“And the second time?” he impatiently prompted.

“At the Leicester Square Rotunda. My mother wished to view the panorama. Why?” she asked, puzzled by his anger and concern.

He braced his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Do not be fooled by his civility, Emily. Halward is no gentleman.”

Her eyes glittered with amusement. “The same might be said about you, Lord Chillingsworth.”

“Pay attention,” he snapped, his face darkening with anger. “The man has the means to mingle with the fringes of polite society, but he is not one of us. His connections extend to the lowest criminals London has to offer. I am astounded your father would place his daughter in the presence of such a man.”

Emily barely knew the man, so she could not defend against Frost’s accusations. “It was not my father’s fault that Mr. Halward happened to be attending the same function—or that later, we saw him again at the rotunda. Mere coincidences. Besides, the man said nothing untoward to me or my family. If anyone has been arrogant, rude, and overstepped his bounds, it is you.”

She rose from the bench.

“If that is all, I would like to greet my host and hostess.”

Frost also stood, his turquoise-blue eyes lingering on her face. “Not quite. I want you to promise me that you will stay away from Halward.”

“Another order, my lord?” she said softly. “Your threats and orders are getting tiresome.”

He grinned down at her, reminding her of a hungry wolf. “Defy me, and I promise—”

“What?” she interrupted, not really intimidated by him. “You have no power over me.”

Emily turned away, intending to join the other guests outdoors, but the earl had other plans. This time she was prepared for his kiss. Her mouth parted as his slanted over it. Frost tugged her closer until her bodice pressed against his chest. She daringly rested her hands against the front of his frock coat, and felt the solid muscle of his chest. His body was as firm as his high-handed dictates, she thought, as his tongue teased hers.

Emily was taken aback by her own body’s responses. Her nipples had tightened, and she longed to rub away the sensation. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, and a rousing heat coursed through her body. Impulsively she leaned against him, savoring the feel of him. Frost had placed one hand on her arm and the other on her hip as he worked his magic with his talented mouth. He was silently demanding something from her, and a part of her was willing to grant him anything.

The realization was the splash of cold water that she desperately required. While Frost railed at her about the dangers surrounding her, he might prove the biggest one of all.

Emily pushed him away, ignoring the regret she felt and cursing her weakness.

“You are very persuasive, Lord Chillingsworth,” she said, unable to keep her voice level. He unsettled her in so many ways. “However, I believe we are finished with today’s lesson.”

Emily walked out of the room and was startled to find Regan waiting for her in the passageway. Was she aware of her indiscreet activities with Frost? Of course she was. All she had to do was take one look at her flushed features and reddened lips. She braced herself for questions. However, Regan was a better friend than that.