9781618858467ASinfulEducationPimentel (2 page)

“Well, my
maid told me in confidence that she heard your mother discussing it with one of
the servants when you were dropped off this week. Apparently, she’s kept up
communication with his grace the entire time he was gone.”

“I thought
he had gone off to the continent?” Permanently, she had desperately hoped.

“He had for
a time, but he’s been back for a fortnight. I suspect your mother has been a
busybody.”

That was not
a first. Her dear mama, up to no good, when she was probably knee-deep in sheep’s
manure.
Of course she has… Would she
dream of doing anything else?
Emily grumbled to herself.

“What was
that?”

Heat seared
Emily’s cheeks. She could not believe that she had spoken aloud. “Oh, nothing. Mama
just has a tendency to interfere where she doesn’t belong, and knowing her,
she’s plotting something devious.”

Isabel
giggled. “Between you and me, I am ecstatic at her desire to no longer live
here. Albeit, it came at the cost of your departure. I know if Nathaniel could
have you here, he would. I will broach the subject with him tonight. Surely,
there is something he will be able to arrange.”

To live here
would be a miracle, but so long as her mother lived and breathed, there’d be no
chance of her relinquishing Emily’s care to her brother. “So, what do you
propose we do in the meanwhile? Plan a picnic and have some fun, much to her
ire? Or should we host a dinner party and make her the guest of honor? We will
invite some of her female companions and secretly make fun of them.”

Isabel
hooked her arm with Emily’s. “What a splendid idea. We could name the dishes
after her and her friends.”

Emily was
lost in a fit of giggles when her brother approached.

“Pray, what
evil plot are you ladies conspiring?”

“Absolutely
nothing meant for your ears, my love.” Isabel unlatched her arm from Emily and
wrapped it around her husband, kissing him feverishly.

Emily adored
them both, but seeing the two of them behaving like lovesick fools did nothing
but make her stomach turn. There were things to be seen, and this was not one
of them.

“My, my,
such an expose for a married woman. I do not think my dear sister wishes to be
scandalized in such a manner.”

Emily
snorted in the most unladylike way. “My dear and unsuspecting brother, I dare
say there isn’t much of anything you could do that would shock me.”

“On the
contrary, Emily, there is much in this existence you do not know as of yet. But
with the right partner in life, the experience is limitless. Now, run along upstairs.
I am sure I heard your name being called.” Nathaniel winked. “I would like a
moment alone with my wife.”

Of course he
did. They were married, after all, and she was a guest in their house.

Emily turned
toward the estate and walked at a leisurely pace. She could not help but admire
the stroke of luck her brother had when he and Isabel were reunited. While she
was much younger at the time, only she knew of her brother sneaking off to meet
with Isabel in clandestine. It was all so romantic and exciting…and so beyond
protocol.
If our father had ever known…

“You could,
of course, use this time to get ready!”

“Ready for
what?” she shouted back at Nathaniel.

“A ball, of
course. I will be escorting you fine ladies to
Almack’s
this evening.”

Emily shook
her head.
Almack’s
? Good Lord! What in heaven’s name am I
going to wear?

* * * *

“Oh, Lord Avonlea,
you are quite the dancer.” Lady Morton gushed all over him, her blush giving her
unladylike intentions away. “Do you think my mama would notice if we slipped
outside?”

Her hand
wandered further down his chest. The Earl of Bridgeton cleared his throat as he
gently lifted it, holding it in his own for a moment. “My dear Miss Morton, while
you are making it abundantly clear you take me for some randy rogue, I will do
the honorable thing and depart once I have returned you to the company of your
mother. I assure you, your advances have not gone unnoticed. I do not have any
intention in misleading you to a courtship beyond this dance floor. Now, come
along, we should not tarry.”

Your mother, after all, is potentially
waiting for us to be caught in some sort of moment of passion. And there is no
way in damnation I would entertain that thought in this lifetime, or the next.

She started
to protest, but instead whimpered at his intentions made clear.

He crossed
the floor and delivered the eager girl to her mother.

“Did you
kids have a great dance?” her mother questioned the young Lady Morton, whilst
giving him a wary glance.

“I did, Mama,
and he promised me another before the evening is out.”

He opened
his mouth to correct Lady Morton when her mother cut the words from him. “Outstanding!
Lord Avonlea, you are beginning to exceed my expectations. Very well, you have
my permission to collect Elizabeth for the quadrille.”

All Avonlea could
do was nod. He bowed and took his leave, heading in the direction of where the
other gentlemen waited for their ladies to finish chirping.

That is when
he noticed the Marquess of Stoughton.

Diverting
his course, he strode toward the seat next to Nathaniel. “It has been far too
long, Nathaniel. How are your marchioness and the offspring faring?”

“It has. You
should stop by and see, or you can ask the marchioness yourself. I think I see
her heading this way with my sister. I am sure you remember Emily?”

Avonlea gave
his chum a wry look. Nathaniel was not exactly known for his humor, but Avonlea
knew of his dry sense of fun. “Yes, I remember her. I was, after all, the one
who caught her in your library when she swooned, after the duke learned of his duchess’
fate.”

“Ah! I hope
you do not plan on bringing up that business again?”

“Absolutely
not, but I also hear he’s back in town. You would think he would have had
enough sensibility to leave London life behind. Do you think he’ll make an
appearance tonight?”

The
marquess
snorted. “Here? At
Almack’s
?
I think not. I am sure he would not dare set foot in here.”

One could
not be too sure about that. The man had connections everywhere and would not
hesitate to pull out all the stops to get what he wanted. He did not possess an
ounce of scruples and did not give a farthing for the worth of a life. His
honor had come into question, too, after disappearing from the duel with
Nathaniel last year.

Avonlea dreaded
the moment when he would have to address the duke the next time his grace was
present, and in his high opinion, he desperately hoped that would be no time
soon. As the ladies approached them, the singular, emerald vision before him
caught his breath.

Fiery red
ringlets fell past Emily’s shoulders. Piercing blue eyes shimmered in the
candlelit ambiance of the room. Her gown accentuated her delicate size, and the
brilliant shade of green with a gold sash completed the heavenly image. Suddenly,
the earl longed to hold her again.

Avonlea’s
blood rushed to his loins, need filling him.
Damn
.
Out of all the ladies
here tonight, Emily makes me burn
. A rosy blush swept across her cheeks,
darkening the little specks of freckles. His thoughts were interrupted when
somone
tapped his arm.

“My lord,
have you suddenly become deaf and mute?”

“Lady
Thompson, I offer my apologies.” He bowed and took her hand, pressing his lips
to the tender skin on the back. “It has been too long, my lady.”

“It has, my
lord. Do say you will join us soon for dinner. I can have Duncan assemble a
dinner party in no time, and if I were the wagering type, I would say you would
have a grand time. Please say you will join us on Saturday. Besides, I have it
on good authority that Emily will be dining with us as well.”

He turned to
observe Nathanial’s approval splashed across his face in the form of a grin. The
marquess
crossed his arms and now leaned against the
wall. “Do you intend to keep my wife waiting?”

“Forgive me.”
The earl returned his gaze to the marchioness, who now smiled as if she had
ensnared him in a trap. “You have my word I will attend your dinner on
Saturday.”

“A wise
choice, my lord. I would hate to resort to drastic measures to secure your
presence.”

And what in the world is that supposed to
mean? Did she mean to have me drugged and dragged to Stoughton Hall?
“My
lady, I assure you, no force will be needed. I will be there.”

“Most
excellent, my lord. Then, I suppose you’ll be pleased to know that we will have
one of the loveliest young ladies London society is
privelged
to have joining us, too. Oh, Nathaniel, dinner will be wonderful!”

Avonlea
smiled at Emily, trying to contain a light-hearted laughter. “What is the
matter, my lady? You appear quite flushed.” He had seen a rosy blush sweep
across her cheeks when the marchioness referred to her as “one of the loveliest
young ladies…” and here she was being coy.

“I am quite
well, my lord. Thank you for your concern.” She had risen up on her toes to
whisper something into the marchioness’ ear and then returned her attention to
him and the
marquess
. “If you gentlemen will excuse
me, I need to step away for only a moment. Nathaniel, my lord.”

He bowed and
watched how her hips innocently swayed.
Lord,
the woman…girl…Christ!
He could not think while he was around her. Avonlea
watched her every step of the way until she joined a group of women her age.

“Ahem,” the
marchioness teased, “I suppose that means you are pleased with who will be
joining us on Saturday?”

“Indeed, my
lady, indeed.”
My night could not have gone
better.
“Well, my lady, I must be going. I look forward to dinner this
weekend.” He turned to Nathaniel and reached out to shake his hand when another
touched his shoulder.

“There you
are my lord! I have been looking all over for you. My dear Eloise has been
waiting for some time, and you have not yet collected her for the quadrille. I
must say, I am quite put out.”

Of course, you are…
“My apologies, my
lady. I shall rectify the situation at once, but I must also warn you, I do have
to leave right after. I mean no offense by my quick departure.”

“I will
think nothing of it. I am so glad for your attentions, sir. I feared after last
season’s debacle, my poor Eloise would never make it this season, and you have
by far exceeded our expectations.”

Avonlea choked
on his spit. “Ma’am, I should be clear as to what my meaning is. That is to
dance and nothing more. While I hold you and your daughter in high regard, I do
not have any intention of pursuing this friendship beyond the hall.”

The woman
stopped and turned to face him. Her face quite red, the matron appeared she would
detonate at any given moment. She licked her lips and opened her fan, moving
the air between them as if giving him a warning signal.

“My
goodness, my
lord, that
is quite unfortunate. I could
not imagine how any young lady would feel inclined to entertain you given your
inability… Ah! Excuse me, I do think I see Lord Broxton’s nephew.”

Lady Morton
had turned on her heels and abandoned him, leaving him to question what inability
she implied.
Unbelievable
.

“What was
that all about, Charles?” the
marquess
asked.

The earl
shook his head and exhaled loudly. “That, my friend, is a disappointed and
scorned matron. To be frank, they should have warnings posted at these
functions. They are all quite the same.”
No
matter how the bread is sliced
.

* * * *

“You should
have seen his face, Emily. I swear it—the man is smitten with you.” Emily’s
sister-in-law gloated. “
Oooh
, and did I mention how
unruly Lady Morton was behaving last night. Something about his manners and
being a cad. That her precious Eloise was made for royalty, and the earl was
not worthy of the gift her daughter was.”

She gasped,
Cecily echoing the reaction beside her. Suddenly, the world was cast in a
different light.

Once upon a
time, she never would have dreamed that one of her brother’s friends would have
paid her any mind. Her heart fluttered to hear that Lord Avonlea certainly
noticed her. He had always been handsome, in a rakish sort of way, and the
ladies had always wanted to be in his good graces and company. Though, she had always
wondered if he had ever seen her as more than a girl, as his friend’s sister.

Emily had ventured
off with the marchioness after breakfast for a walk of the grounds, meeting up
with her bosom companion, Miss Cecily Turner, for a picnic.

“I, for one,
am jealous.” Cecily stated dryly. “The earl is a dream. Imagine the babies that
man will produce. Goodness, he is simply made for sin.”

“Cecily!”
Isabel scolded.

“Pshaw. I
have only stated what everyone else is thinking. See what I mean?” She pointed
at Emily. “If Lady Thompson was not thinking of it, would she be blushing?”

Emily,
despite the heat that coursed through her veins from embarrassment,—
or was it really just that?
—knew that
Isabel’s friend was right. His lordship, the Earl of Bridgeton, certainly oozed
an air that most men in his circle did not possess—charm.
Well, that and an incredibly toned body given the size of his masculine…err…well-formed
legs and backside.

Heavens! I really should not be giving such
thought into the male anatomy, much less his. Mother would have an apoplectic
fit if she knew. Nevertheless, the man turns the heads of every female. Why
should I be any different?