Read What a Wicked Earl Wants Online

Authors: Vicky Dreiling

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical, #Regency

What a Wicked Earl Wants (8 page)

BOOK: What a Wicked Earl Wants
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He took the other chair and realized his heart was beating a bit faster. She must have sensed him looking at her, because she returned his gaze. A rosy blush crept into her cheeks as she lowered her lashes.

To put her at ease, he handed her the dice. His fingers accidentally brushed her soft palm. She stilled but did not look at him. After a pause, she said, “Please roll to see who wins the first turn.”

“Ladies first,” he said.

She rolled a three. “Drat.”

He laughed and scooped up the dice. Then he rolled a six. “I win the first turn.”

“Hah! You were lucky once,” she said, grinning.

“I was lucky once before and hope to be again,” he said, hinting at their kiss.

She frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

Obviously she’d not caught on. “It’s nothing.” He rolled a six and a three. Then he positioned the draughts accordingly on the pips. When he handed her the dice, she glanced at him and then quickly closed her small fist. She rolled two sixes and clapped her hands. “Doubles.”

While she moved the draughts, he asked, “Did you find it difficult becoming a stepmother? I would imagine there must have been some adjustment for both you and Justin.”

She finished her moves and handed him the dice. “Justin’s mother died when he was only a year old. He had a succession of nannies. When my husband told Justin that I was to be his mother, he was elated. Until very recently, we were close.” She sighed. “I know becoming independent is part of his growth, but it’s not easy.”

He rolled the dice. “You never had any other children.”

“No.”

He moved his draughts and then looked at her, the question unspoken.

“My husband grew very ill five months after we married,” she said, taking the dice from him.

“How long ago did he die?” Bell asked.

“Four years have passed.”

He watched her roll. “Did he know he was ailing when he asked you to marry him?”

She made her move. “He believed his health was returning.”

Good Lord. “He was older than you?”

She dropped the dice into his outstretched hand. “Yes, by twenty-seven years.”

He rolled. “Forgive me, but why would you marry an elderly man?”

“I married the man I loved,” she said.

Her tone sounded defensive. He probably wasn’t the first to suspect she’d married the elderly viscount for his fortune. “How did your family react to the news?” he said, moving the draughts.

She held out her hand for the dice and rolled them. “My father was a bit concerned at first, but he came around. My mother was happy that I made such a great match.”

So there was an element of ambition about her marriage. “You have a large family?” he asked.

She smiled and pushed her draughts into place. “Yes, I have ten siblings.”

Her father was a vicar. With such a large brood, he likely struggled to make ends meet. “You probably missed them after you married,” he said.

“No, they live in the nearby village and visit often,” she said, handing him the dice.

He gazed at her. Blond ringlets caressed her cheeks. Her complexion was flawless. She had a sweet, wholesome look about her and pretty green eyes. He noticed that her fingers and wrists were very slender. She was far more petite than his previous lovers. The thought brought him up short. Laura wasn’t his lover…and never would be.

She lifted her lashes. “Your turn.”

Recollecting himself, he rolled the dice. He started to move one of the draughts when her voice arrested him.

“Lady Atherton told me that you lost all of your family,” she said.

He hated talking about it and made his move. “It happened a long time ago.”

“You have no other relatives?”

“No,” he said.

“Well, it is my turn to ask for forgiveness in advance,” she said, “but under the circumstances, I would think you would wish to marry.”

He looked at her coldly. “I don’t.” Then he handed her the dice.

She rolled. “You are angry at me for asking you about your family, but you must allow the question was natural since you asked about my own.”

“You were under no obligation to answer and neither am I,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed. “You are not unaware of the conventions of polite conversation.”

“I break rules to suit me,” he said.

“You are a nonconformist.”

“I conform when it suits my purposes.”

“Even in parliament?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Yes,” he said. He was only now aware of the tension in his shoulders. Now that the conversation had moved in a different direction, he felt easier. “I attend balls in order to mingle with my allies. I learn important information that I need to make political decisions.”

She circled her finger round one of the draughts. “Surely you must negotiate sometimes?”

“Yes, but only—”

“When it suits your purposes,” she said, smiling.

He grinned. “Exactly.”

Something in her expression changed.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

She hesitated and looked at the board. “I have no idea whose turn it is.”

Her hesitation spoke volumes. Too many people had given him the “you shouldn’t be alone” lecture. He never explained his reasons. They were his, and that was the end of it.

She shrugged and said, “Shall we call it a draw?”

“Very well.” He returned the dice to the cup.

“I shall let you off the hook this time,” she said.

Ah, she’d intimated he was welcome to call again. Of course, she wouldn’t have admitted him today if not for her son, but that was the reason he’d called.

She looked up at the clock. “I fear my son is keeping you waiting much too long. If you must go, I will explain to Justin.”

“No, I’ll wait. I wish to meet him.”

She moistened her lips and rose.

He stood.

“I-I’ll just ring for a tea tray,” she said.

He shook his head. “That’s not necessary.”

She started straightening the game. When he reached to help her replace the checkerboard top, their hands brushed again. He heard her quick indrawn breath and met her gaze once more. The tension drew out. There was no use denying his attraction to her. It was an invisible force, one they were both trying to ignore. But he recalled the feel of her in his arms and the taste of her lips. Everything inside him wanted to pull her flush against him, but he’d silently sworn not to touch her again.

There were multiple reasons he should steer clear of a woman like her, but at the moment, they flew out of his head. Damn it all to hell, she tempted him. He’d called to warn her about her son, but he ought to have ignored what he’d seen last night. Yet, it would have been dishonorable not to alert her.

He mustn’t fool himself. There was something about her that made him want to be closer. He’d felt the sparks each time their hands had brushed. He wanted her, and the fact that he couldn’t have her—or shouldn’t want her—made matters much harder, figuratively and literally. Bell gritted his teeth. He would meet the boy and then have done with him and his mother. Bell’s very presence should make Justin nervous.

But would it stop him?

Bell knew he ought to leave. He’d told Laura what he’d seen. Now he must bid her adieu and forget them both. Neither she nor her son was his responsibility.

Rapid footsteps sounded outside the door. Laura smoothed her skirts and turned.

The drawing room door flew open. Bell recognized the lanky young man with wheat-colored hair. Justin’s flushed face and clenched fists stunned Bell.

“Justin, may I introduce—”

He loomed over his mother. “How dare you lock me in like a prisoner?”

Bell didn’t shock easily, but the young man’s rude response stunned him. “How dare you shout at your mother,” he said.

Justin turned toward him. “Get out.”

“Calm down,” Laura said.

Justin pointed at the door. “Get out or I’ll throw you out.”

Bell folded his arms over his chest. “You can try, but you won’t succeed.”

Justin strode across the carpet. When he stepped too close, Bell grabbed his arm, turned him around, and pinned the boy’s arms behind his back.

When Justin yelped, Bell said, “I warned you.”

Laura cried out, “You’re hurting him.”

“No, I’m not. He’s only crying out for your benefit. Aren’t you?” he said.

“Let me go,” Justin gritted out as he tried to pull away.

“Apologize,” Bell said in a harsh tone.

Justin struggled. “Never.”

“Since you neither care for nor respect your mother, she might as well send you to your uncle.”

“What?”

“In fact, I can arrange to send you first thing on the morrow,” Bell said.

“No,” Laura said. “Please stop this.”

Lord, did she not know that he meant to scare the boy enough to get him to behave? “So what will it be, Justin? An apology or your uncle?”

Justin was breathing hard. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Make it a proper apology.”

“I’m sorry, Laura,” Justin muttered.

“Speak in a sincere tone, and address your mother properly,” Bell said.

“What?” Justin said too loud.

“She’s your mother. Address her properly.”

Justin was breathing heavily with obvious anger. “I apologize, Mama,” he said.

Bell let him go. The young man whirled around with his hands fisted.

“Stand down,” Bell said. “You know you were in the wrong.”

Justin scowled and rubbed his arms.

“Lesson one,” Bell said. “Never insult a lady, especially your mother. Lesson two. Never underestimate your opponent.”

“I hate you,” Justin said.

“You don’t know me.” Bell turned to Laura. “Lady Chesfield, I suggest we all sit and discuss this rationally.”

Justin slouched in a chair and folded his arms over his chest.

Bell took the other armchair and leaned his elbows on his knees. He realized that this was an opportunity for Laura to enforce her authority. “Your mother wishes to explain to you about the locked door,” Bell said. When he glanced at her, he saw approval in her eyes.

Laura drew in her breath. “Justin, you failed in your promise to me again. I could not sit still, knowing that your uncle will take you if he hears you’re rebelling again. His friends are spying on you. So I took this measure for your own good. Reed will only open the door for you if you have obtained my permission. And even then, you must be truthful with me about your whereabouts.”

Her son pulled a face. “I could just leave via the servant’s entrance.”

Bell gave Laura a knowing look. “He doesn’t seem to care that he’ll have to spend the next four years with his uncle.”

Justin shoved out of his chair. “No!”

“Be seated,” Laura said, “or I’ll send you today.”

When Bell started to rise, Justin winced and flounced back in the chair. Lord, he was a handful.

“I cannot wait for the day I turn twenty-one,” Justin muttered.

“Ah, yes, you will inherit a great estate, along with all the troublesome paperwork, repairs, tenants, and servants,” Bell said. “You will be required to make dozens of decisions every single day, and then when spring rolls around, you will spend hours listening to boring windbags drone on for hours in parliament. I bet you’re thrilled at the prospect.”

Justin snorted. “You left out some of your more pleasurable pursuits.”

Bell noted the satisfaction on Justin’s face and gave him a warning look. Then he took out his watch. “I’d better be on my way.”

A knock sounded. Reed announced Lady Atherton.

Everyone rose as the grand dame entered the room. “Oh, dear, I’ve interrupted,” she said.

“You are very welcome,” Laura said.

Bell bowed to her. “Lady Atherton.”

She regarded him with an enigmatic smile and then turned to Justin. “It is such a pleasure to see you again, Lord Chesfield. Are you enjoying the season?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said in a wooden voice.

At least he’d remembered his manners, Bell thought.

“Please be seated,” Laura said. “I’ll ring for a tea tray.”

Lady Atherton perched on the sofa beside Laura. “Do not bother, dear. I have news.” She smiled at Justin. “Although I fear Justin would find it all rather dull.”

Bell figured Lady Atherton did not wish to discuss the news in Justin’s presence. He looked at Laura, but her attention was focused on her son. “Justin, you may be excused,” she said.

He stood, bowed, and strode out of the drawing room.

After the door shut, Lady Atherton exhaled. “I’m glad you’re here, Bellingham. Montclief called on me with the most astounding story. Well, of course I could not believe it. Perhaps he’d been nipping from the brandy decanter.”

Laura moistened her lips. “What did Montclief say?”

“He said the two of you were secretly engaged. Can you imagine that? On one day’s acquaintance, no less.” Lady Atherton shook her head. “He must have lost his wits.”

Bell exchanged a look with Laura.

Laura sighed. “Montclief meant to take Justin away. I tried to persuade him against it, but he refused to budge. He said that Justin needed male influence.”

Lady Atherton touched her high purple collar. “It’s true?”

“It was a necessary invention,” Bell said.

“I assure you that we are not really engaged,” Laura said. “It was Bellingham’s idea to tell Montclief that we were keeping it a secret. For obvious reasons, we do not wish anyone to know about it.”

Lady Atherton looked at Bellingham and then at Laura. “But he will expect you to marry.”

“Montclief is only concerned about Justin’s wild behavior,” Laura said. “Once that is resolved, he won’t care. He never wanted responsibility for his nephew.”

“I’m doubly glad I called,” Lady Atherton said. “Montclief is very suspicious of your engagement and believes that you are involved in a liaison with Bellingham.”

“He warned us against it,” she said. “There is no need for alarm on that count.”

Lady Atherton patted Laura’s hand and looked at Bell. “Of course, I know that you are a lady of strong moral principles. How Montclief could even assume otherwise is beyond my imagination.”

Bell bit back a smile. Underneath Laura’s prim exterior lay a hot-blooded woman.

BOOK: What a Wicked Earl Wants
13.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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