Twilight with the Infamous Earl (17 page)

He tensed when his sister’s lip trembled, but she managed to hold on to her composure.

“When you sent me away, I thought you didn’t want me underfoot, disrupting your life,” she said wearily.

Her admission was a kick to his heart. Although he refused to admit it, he had regretted sending her away. At the time, he had thought he had been doing the right thing. Her infatuation with Dare had given him the perfect excuse to take action.

Frost scrubbed his face and thought of Emily, warm and asleep in her bed. At the moment, he would gladly toss his good intentions aside for another hour in her arms. However, that would have only put off the inevitable. Regan was feeling betrayed, and he had his mother to thank for this mess. “Utter nonsense. It killed me to send you away.”

“Then why…” Her voice trailed off. “You sent me away so
she
couldn’t find me.”

“Our mother abandons us to run off with her married lover, and I’m the cold, soulless blackguard,” he complained to Dare. “Let’s forget the fact that I was young and had no idea how to look after a young girl properly.”

“Frost, I know you did your best.” Her face crumpled. “It was just a shock to see her sitting in my drawing room as if nothing had happened. After all of these years, she seemed so happy to see me. She wanted to meet Dare and Bishop. Then she began telling me that you have been keeping us apart for years. I was so confused when she finally left.”

“Did she ask you for money?”

Startled, she gasped. “What are you talking about?”

“Money,” he said succinctly. “It is all our mother has ever wanted. I have been sending payments to her man of affairs for years. The only reason she approached you was to punish me for not giving her more.”

“You’ve been paying her to stay away.”

“It seemed like a reasonable condition to our original arrangement. You were so young when our father died, and then our mother disappeared. I was relieved when I heard that she had drowned. Her death gave you a chance to grieve and move on. Did she tell you that she approached me years ago, only to be turned away?”

Her silence confirmed his suspicions.

“She failed to mention that she came to me because she was lacking in funds. Her current lover had abandoned her, and she needed money to ensnare another poor fool.”

“You make her sound like—”

“What? A whore?” he sneered. “I have more respect for a prostitute. Our mother accepted my terms and turned her back on you without shedding a single tear of regret. You might want to remember that the next time you allow her near your son.”

Leaning against the edge of Frost’s desk, Dare stirred from his stance. “I believe you, Frost.”

“Thank you,” he huffed. Frost had dealt with enough people who had challenged his intentions this evening.

Regan had a miserable look on her face. He wanted to throttle their mother for upsetting Regan. She had won the battle, but he was not finished with the woman.

“It’s not that I don’t believe what you are telling me is true.”

Frost winced, trying not to be hurt by the lingering doubt he heard in her voice. “Feel free to visit my solicitor if you need proof,” he said, sounding as if he didn’t care one way or the other.

“Your word is good enough for us,” Dare said. “Once Regan calms down, she’ll realize that you were just trying to protect her.”

His friend’s words eased the tension in Frost’s gut. “You sound certain.”

“I am.” Dare grinned. “If you recall, you even tried to protect her from me.”

Frost snorted. “And don’t think I don’t often regret it, gent.”

Regan shot up from her chair and dashed straight into his arms. He hesitated, and then wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t doubt you. I just think your anger has colored your opinion of our mother. There is a possibility that she regrets the decisions she has made.”

Doubtful.

“I won’t stop you from seeing her.” Frost ignored Dare’s soft choke of laughter. No one controlled Regan. Especially not the men in her life. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

She nodded, her cheek pressed against his chest. “I know. I love you, Frost.”

He rubbed the top of her head with his chin. “I love you, too, brat.”

Chapter Nineteen

The next afternoon, one of Frost’s servants delivered a bouquet of chrysanthemums to the Cavell residence. The footman handed Lord Chillingsworth’s card to the butler, and said the flowers were for Miss Cavell.

“How odd,” her mother said when she had come to admire the flowers. “All the blooms are red.”

“What is wrong with red?” Emily demanded. Frost had sent her flowers. She was pleased by his thoughtfulness.

“Nothing. It is a lovely color,” her mother said, plucking one of the blooms from the vase and reinserting it until she was satisfied with the arrangement. “One expects some variety, that’s all.”

“Red hair.”

Emily glanced over at her father, who was occupied with his paper. “Were you speaking to us, Father?”

Her sixty-year-old father peered over the top of his paper. “This man who sent you the flowers. It is to pay homage to your hair.” He set down his paper. “By the by, who is this gentleman?”

Her sister sat at one of the tables near the windows writing a letter. “Lord Chillingsworth. He is Emily’s suitor.”

“He is not my suitor,” Emily weakly protested. She could not imagine Frost courting anyone. “He is a friend. Do you recall me mentioning Lady Regan? Well, she has married and is currently Lady Pashley. Lord Chillingsworth is her brother.”

“I will admit that he did seem much taken with our Emily,” her mother said. She adjusted another bloom. “Do you know what he’s worth?”

Emily glowered at her mother. “No. And it would be rude to inquire.”

“I would ask his sister.” This from Judith. “It isn’t rude when you ask a friend.”

“If this gentleman has taken a keen interest in you, Em, it would prudent to make a few inquiries about him,” her father said, coming to his feet. “I won’t have a fortune hunter chasing after my daughter.”

“Lord Chillingsworth is not a fortune hunter.” Emily followed her father out into the hall. “If he attends the theater, I will introduce him to you. You will see for yourself.”

Her father halted and studied her face. “You like him.”

Emily’s face warmed under her father’s perusal. “He is tolerable company.”

Frost would have been amused by her bland description of their friendship. Last evening, Frost had lain between her bare legs and used his tongue in a manner that would likely cause her to blush every time she thought of it for the next twenty years.

Her father’s smile faded. “Enjoy yourself, Em, but there is no reason to be hasty. Your sister—” He tilted his head to see if his wife was listening. Satisfied that she wasn’t, he continued. “Lucy wasn’t as sensible as you. Maybe if she had taken her time, not rushed into marriage with Leventhorpe, she would still be with us.”

“Oh, Father,” Emily whispered, impulsively embracing him. She was not the only one still grieving for her sister.

He patted her on the shoulder and stepped back. “Don’t let your mother rush you into marriage. I want you to be happy.”

Emily cleared her throat. “You have nothing to worry about. Lord Chillingsworth is just a friend.”

“Good, that’s good.” He walked away from her. Without stopping he said, “I used to say the same thing about your mother.”

*   *   *

Frost waited in the hotel lobby for his mother. What he had to say to her was best said in private, but he did not trust himself to be alone in the same room with her.

She froze when she saw him. The flash of fear in her eyes revealed she wasn’t as stupid as he thought.

“Good afternoon, Mother,” he said genially. He gestured for her to join him. “I hear you have decided not to leave England, after all. In fact, you have gone so far as to defy me by approaching my sister.”

“Vincent,” she began.

“Who did you think Regan would run straight to after you told your woeful tale about how you have been searching for a way back into your daughter’s arms?”

“She was very upset with you.”

Frost touched his cheek. “Aye, that she was, but don’t worry about it. We have had our squabbles. You will be pleased to know that Regan and I managed to work things out.”

His mother was troubled by the news.

“The risk you took is admirable,” he continued in a conversational tone. “Since I was being difficult, you turned to Regan and her husband in the hope that I would pay you whatever amount you named to get you to leave. Very devious.”

“I have not lied to you, Vincent. I was curious about Regan. I have often wondered if she looked like me—”

“She is nothing like you,” he said cuttingly. He sat back and smiled. “Or me. However, I will admit that you have made an impression on her.”

“You are upset that she no longer views you as a saint. Saint Vincent.”

He laughed. “Madam, if you remain in town, you will learn that no one credits me as being a saint. Least of all Regan.”

Frost stared at her until she began to fidget. “Good news! You will be pleased to know that I have changed my mind.”

His mother brightened. “On the amount we discussed. I can give you the name—”

“It won’t be necessary. I have decided that denying you access to Regan is petty. You want to be a part of your daughter’s life, and Regan is pleased to have a mother again. I have come to welcome you to the family.”

Frost stood and bowed. “I wish you well.”

“Uh, wait … Vincent,” she said, rising and chasing after him. He didn’t halt until he had stepped outdoors. “There is the small matter of my expenses.”

“Have the hotel send me your bills. I will settle the debt,” he offered. “Is there anything else?”

“I need more than you settling my hotel bill, Vincent. I have other expenses.”

“A difficult quandary to be certain.” He took a deep breath to deliberate on the problem. “I see no reason why I cannot continue to pay your blackmail. Since you’re back in the family, we’ll just call it your annual allowance.”

She grabbed him by the arm. “Damn you, I told you, it’s not enough!”

Frost shook off her hand. “Then I suggest you learn to live within your means.”

Chapter Twenty

Several days had slipped by before he had caught a glimpse of the elusive Miss Emily Cavell. Regan had told him that she had spoken to her at Lady Goodrick’s fete on Tuesday. Sin and Juliana had enjoyed her company at Lord and Lady Damsell’s late supper on the same evening. On Wednesday, Sophia and Isabel had introduced her to Lady Netherley. He was particularly distressed by this news, since the marchioness prided herself on being a successful matchmaker. The last thing he wanted was for Vane’s elderly mother to get it in her head that she needed to find a husband for Emily.

There were numerous balls this evening, but no one had been able to tell him which one Emily would be attending. He had already searched two ballrooms; Lord and Lady Browett’s residence was his third stop.

He swiftly paid his respects to his host and hostess, and moved on to finding the errant lady.

Frost noted he was not the only Lord of Vice in attendance. Vane and Isabel were chatting with Lady Netherley and another woman. On the opposite side of the room, he saw Juliana, Sophia, and Reign. Juliana’s husband wasn’t with the small group, but he imagined Sin hadn’t strayed far from his lady.

Frost raised his hand to acknowledge his friends. Reign beckoned him to join them. He headed in their direction but halted. Perhaps he should have a private word with Lady Netherley first.

“Lord Chillingsworth,” a female voice called out, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Lady Gittens moving toward him.

Frost took her hand and formally bowed. She curtsied. “Lady Gittens, it is good to see you again. I pray you have been enjoying our good weather.”

She opened her fan and gave him a coy look. “Is that why I have not seen you, my lord? Have you been hunting?”

“You know I cannot resist a challenging sport, my lady,” Frost said, preparing to take his leave.

He did not wish to hurt the lady’s feelings, but their brief affair was finished. The decision had been made even before he had met Emily. However, Lady Gittens was not quite ready to let him go, and situations like this often resulted in dramatic tantrums—something he preferred to avoid this evening.

“If it is sport you desire, perhaps we should adjourn to the back gardens, my lord.”

Her meaning was clear, and there had been a time when he would have willingly followed her into the gardens or anyplace they could have stolen a few minutes to play their wicked games.

“I must regretfully decline, my lady.”

It had been on the tip of his tongue to say,
Perhaps another time
. However, the simple creature would merely take him at his word.

Her face fell at his polite rejection. A gentleman accidentally bumped into her, giving her the opportunity to move closer.

“I wish you would reconsider,” she said, stroking his arm. “My afternoons have not been the same without you, Frost.”

Frost felt the stirrings of regret. He should have ended his relationship with the lady weeks earlier. “You will find someone else to amuse you, Maryann.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” she coaxed. “Give me a chance to change your mind.”

Frost didn’t hear a single word. He had glanced over Lady Gittens’s shoulder, and his gaze locked with Emily’s. She was far enough away that she shouldn’t have heard the widow’s invitation, but her pained expression revealed that she had deduced he was speaking to one of his former lovers.

“Damn,” he murmured, removing Lady Gittens’s hand from his sleeve. “I must go.”

“I—what?” The widow turned around to see the reason for Frost’s abandonment, catching a glimpse of Emily as she walked away. Her eyes narrowed. “Who is she?”

Frost did not bother answering her. He had to find Emily before she thought the worst of him.

It was probably too late.

*   *   *

With her chin held high, Emily did not know where she was heading. She pushed her way through the crowd, needing to get away from all of these people—away from Frost.