Only an Earl Will Do (16 page)

…

Elizabeth woke early the next morning, her body expectant, her mind abuzz with thoughts of the night before. She paused while doing up the buttons on her riding jacket and wondered when she’d ever felt so happy. In truth, likely not since the day she’d lain with Henry at Dunsleigh or when she’d given birth to their son, Samuel.

Wanting to make the park after dawn, she left a hastily scrawled note for her maid before almost running to the mews to have her horse saddled. Argo snickered in welcome, lopping his head over the stable door, while Tony, her groom, looked less than pleased to be braving the chill of the London morning to accompany her. But the ever-faithful groom mounted his own horse and followed her into the morning throng of traffic. Elizabeth weaved her way through parked carts of market sellers and shop deliveries before turning into Hyde Park.

At this hour the grounds were almost vacant of life, bar the few early morning riders like herself. Elizabeth made her way toward Rotten Row, marveling at Hyde Park’s beauty this early in the morning. The smell of horses and trees made her long to be home at Dunsleigh, the many mornings she’d ridden out with Henry across the meadows at full gallop, each of them betting the other to jump a hedge grove, fallen tree, or stream.

Seeing Henry, her heart flipped at the wicked grin on his lips. She took in every detail, his tight-fitting tan breeches and blue riding jacket that brought out the color of his eyes and the devilish glint that was only for her. A secret understanding that only they had.

Today more than ever he resembled the man she’d once adored. His unshaven jaw boasted a night’s worth of stubble. His hair looked wind tossed and beckoned her to run her hands through it. She wanted to steal him away to somewhere secluded, allow him to kiss her senseless, make her his as she had an inkling her heart had always been.

Elizabeth smiled as he came to a stop before her. “Good morning, Lord Muir. How fortunate to meet you here this morning.”

Henry chuckled and drew closer still. “How fortunate indeed.” He winked, and the breath in her lungs expelled. “Do you wish for a run or would ye prefer to ride at a more leisurely pace?”

Elizabeth masked the telltale shiver that his husky voice brought forth.
Maybe her hopes of being kissed senseless was a possibility after all
. She caught a disapproving glance from her groom, and her wayward thoughts were put to heel. “A leisurely ride I think,” she said, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice at having her groom with her.

…

Henry led the way into a bank of trees. It was a beautiful morning, made even more so by the company he kept. Memories of last night flooded his mind when her knee brushed his. He looked at her, a smile quirking his lips when she met his scrutiny.

“You are well this mornin’?” he asked.

The lightest blush rose on her cheeks and Henry knew what his question had reminded her of. Of her locked in his arms, her masked moans as he brought her to pleasure, her shivers and trembles of ecstasy. He swallowed, urging his blood to pump at its rightful speed, not a gallop.

“I am very, very well, my lord.”

Henry chuckled, and they settled into an easy pace. The paths led them through wooded and lawned areas, yet Henry saw none of the park’s beauty, only Elizabeth’s. “Did ye enjoy the remainder of the play? I thought ye looked a little flushed and distracted.” He paused. “I must admit, it couldn’t hold my attention, as I was quite preoccupied.” And never had he been more distracted then he was last night watching Elizabeth walk away. He’d wanted her with need that frightened him. The sooner she agreed to marry him, the better they all would be.

Elizabeth smiled, but something in her eyes gave him pause. He pulled up his horse and she followed his suit. “Is something wrong, lass? Has Lord Riddledale pressed upon you again?” He wouldn’t put it past the bastard; he was capable of anything, the blaggard.

Elizabeth shook her head, a tendril of golden hair bouncing against her cheek. “No. Lord Riddledale has kept away, thankfully, but there is something on my mind.”

Henry watched an array of emotions flick over her face before she masked her features and turned to face him. His stomach knotted, wondering what it was that could make her so serious all of a sudden.

“I need to be honest with you, and I’m afraid of what my honesty will cost.”

An inkling of foreboding settled about his shoulders, and he rolled them to dispel the tightness. “What is it?”

She lifted her chin, biting her sweet bottom lip. “As you know our past has been…well, not the easiest, to say the least. A lot has happened between us. Our interlude, you leaving for America, Riddledale stealing our correspondence, and now blackmailing me to marry him.”

Henry reached for her hand when her voice wobbled. How he hated himself for hurting her, even if unknowingly. “Go on,” he said.

Elizabeth frowned. “I hated you for not coming home. I couldn’t believe you had dismissed our request after all we’d shared. But then I married Newland, and I was content, happy even for a time. There is something you need to know about our marriage, Henry.” She paused, looking out over the park, not able to meet his gaze.

Never had Henry seen her so unsettled. “Ye’re making me nervous, lass. Stop choking on the words and tell me.”

“I’m nervous.” She laughed, but he could see the tension radiating from her. What was it she was trying to say? He slid off his saddle and pulled Elizabeth from her mount. Heedless of who saw them, he pulled her hard against his chest. “I’m sorry for everythin’. If I could change the past, I would. I would never have left ye had I known how much ye wished for us to wed. But please tell me ye know why I left. That I wanted to provide for ye, to give all that I could to my bride, and not rely on her dowry.”

Elizabeth wiped at her cheek, and he cursed knowing he’d hurt her so much. “I know why you left, and I do not think any less of you for it. But some things do change, and I had quite a momentous change in my life upon marrying Newland.”

The sound of thudding hooves came up the track. They turned to watch the rider look about and then, spotting them, galloped toward them as if the devil himself was after his life. The rider gave Tony the missive and after reading the address quickly, handed it straight to Elizabeth.

“For me?” Elizabeth took the letter, and he noted the moment she tensed. Breaking the seal, she read it quickly, her eyes widening with alarm. “I must go.”

“What’s happened?” He looked at the missive and watched as she sought her saddle.

“It’s news from home. I must return to Newland Estate. Today, without delay.”

Henry clasped her leg, helping to put her shaking foot into the stirrup. “Why, lass?”

She swallowed, tears brimming in her eyes. “My son, Samuel, has become ill. He lives at the estate. I would normally bring him to town, but I didn’t this year since we now have a nanny.” She shook her head. “I must go. I’m sorry.”

Henry stumbled back, shocked into silence as he watched Elizabeth gallop through Hyde Park and toward Mayfair. She had a son? With Newland? She was a mother?

How had he not known…?

In a daze, he mounted his horse and set for home. He couldn’t actually remember the ride back to the townhouse, but entering his home, the presence of his cousin Richard, seated in his library at ease, aggravated and relieved him at the same moment.

“Ah, there you are. I was hoping to catch you. What are your plans for the next few days? Amelia wishes to travel to Bath, and we were wondering if you’d be up for a trip?”

Henry slumped into the chair behind his desk, only half listening.

“Henry? Are you well?”

Richard waved a hand before his eyes, and he pulled himself from his thoughts. “She’s a mother.”

His cousin chuckled, grabbing the chair near the desk and pulling it closer to lean on the mahogany wood. “Who’s a mother?”

“Elizabeth.” He paused. “Lady Newland. She’s a mother.”

Richard’s brows rose. “She is? When did you find this out? She’s not spoken of a child before?”

No she had not, which was odd. Had he been a father, it would be all he’d speak of, he was sure. To have little bairns was one of life’s greatest gifts. And finding out Elizabeth had a child did not lessen her in his eyes, quite the opposite in fact, but they were friends. Were supposed to be friends, in any case, so why had she not told him? “Today, in the park just now. She’s returned to Newland Estate as the boy is ill.”

A knot formed in his stomach at the thought that someone Elizabeth loved beyond any other was not well, was sick enough that his mama was called home. It didn’t bode well.

His decision snapped into his mind and he walked to the fire surround and rang for a servant.

“What are your thoughts?”

“Apologies, my friend, but you’ll have to take Amelia to Bath yourself. I’m headed for Wiltshire.”

“Wiltshire?”

“Aye, Newland Estate.” If he could give her solace, a friend’s support during such an ordeal as a sick child, then by God he would be there for Elizabeth this time. He would not fail her again a second time around.

“Did she ask you to go?” Richard poured him a whisky and, walking over to him, passed the crystal glass with the fortifying amber liquid inside. “I fear you’re being hasty.”

“No, she did not, but I’m going, and that’s all there is to say on the subject.”

Richard raised his glass in salute. “Well then, I wish you luck, Muir.”

Henry smiled. “Thank ye.”

Chapter Fifteen

Only a few days later Henry arrived at Newland Estate. His carriage pulled up before the two story home made of Bath stone; its warm golden glow in the afternoon light was as welcoming as the woman who occupied the house.

A young man came running from the side of the home and helped his driver steady the gray matched pair after a day’s hard ride. Henry stepped from the carriage, eager to see Elizabeth, to offer aid and anything else that could help the boy become well.

The front door opened, and a liveried footman stepped aside to allow him to enter. “I’m here to see Lady Newland.”

He bowed, ushering him toward the front parlor. “If you’ll wait here, my lord,” the servant said, opening the door to the room that sported an abundance of settees and tables, the windows overlooking a pretty vista of lawn and willow trees to the side of the house. “I will summon Lady Newland immediately.”

Henry strolled into the room and walked about, taking an interest in the small painted images of different family members over the years that sat atop any available surface. A large portrait of whom he assumed to be the late Lord Newland sat above the fire surround, his blond hair almost as light as Elizabeth’s, but where she had a golden hue running through her long locks, his lordship had the tinge of red.

Footsteps sounded in the foyer along with Elizabeth asking the servant who had called. Henry felt a small twinge of guilt he’d not given the man his name when she received no answer to her question.

The door swung open, and she entered, no longer the woman who danced at balls with little care of the world around her, of perfectly coiffed hair and impeccable dress. Now stood a mother, a woman who ruled the house in which he stood, a woman in a plain white cotton afternoon gown with a pink sash. Her hair sat against her shoulders, an abundance of sun-kissed gold, and he lost the ability to speak at the beautiful vision she made.

“Lord Muir.” He heard the surprise in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

He stood with his hands clasped behind his back lest he reach for her, pulling her into his arms and giving her all that he could, his heart, his everything. “You’re a mother.” It wasn’t his best reply. In fact, he supposed he was still shocked by the notion of her having a child.

Elizabeth raised her brow, smiling a little. “Yes, I am. I have a son, Samuel.” She turned as a butler stood in the door, clearing his throat a little. “Smithers, if you could have tea brought in and some sandwiches, I’ll have my lunch in the parlor today.” The servant bowed and left as quietly as he’d arrived.

She walked toward him, sitting down on the settee. “How is it you’re here?”

He sat also, taking her in as if he’d not seen her for weeks instead of three days. “I wanted to see if your child is well or at least on the mend.”

Her face softened at the mention of her son. “He’s much better now that I’m here. I think he wanted his mama, and I’m perfectly happy to leave London to come and care for him. He’s only two, you see, and this is the first time we’ve been apart.”

“You took him last season to London?” It was unusual for a woman of rank to do such a thing, but the daughters of the Duke of Penworth had an unconventional upbringing. They had been raised almost wild at Dunsleigh, running, swimming, picnicking at will, and their parents had adored such activities for their children. None of them was high in the instep.

“I did, although he was much smaller then and didn’t fuss a lot. But as a toddler, he’s looking for more stimulation now, playing outdoors, riding on his pony, swimming in the lake when it’s hot enough, of course. I didn’t want him to miss out on all that to be in London with me for the season. I find town tedious, so I imagine he would, too, very much so.”

“I’m glad he’s feeling better. When they recalled you home, I imagined the worst.”

She laughed, nodding as the tea tray arrived. The maid set it out before them on a small table and Elizabeth poured, handing him a cup along with a selection of sandwiches.

“I did also. I thought I was going to lose him, but upon arriving here, his fever had broken, and he was up in bed again, happily playing with his favorite teddy bear and small soldiers.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He paused, feeling a little absurd having panicked so much on her behalf. “I’m sorry to intrude. Had I known the boy was well, I would never have—”

She reached out, clasping his hand. “I’m glad you’ve come. Thank you for caring enough to be here.”

Their gaze locked, and a shiver of awareness ran through him. “I shall take my leave after luncheon if you’re agreeable.”

“If you wish.” A frown marred her brow. “You’re more than welcome to stay, Henry. The house is large enough for company, and as I’ve written to my family assuring them of Samuel’s wellbeing, I’ll be here alone for the next week or so. I would love to have another in the house if you’re able to stay.”

“We’ll be alone, lass.”

The words, heavy with intent, longing even, hung between them. Should he stay, it would take all his effort to keep his distance from her, and by God, he didn’t wish to. He wanted her like he’d wanted no other in his life. It had always been like this between them, a need that surpassed everything that ever impacted them.

“I know.” She shrugged, the action bringing his gaze to take in her slender shoulders, the rise of her breasts against her gown. “I’m a widow, not a debutante, and if we’re discreet about your visit, no harm will come of it.”

Henry swallowed, shifting on his chair, wondering if she was aware of what her words sounded like. A proposition…

“I would be happy to stay and visit with ye, lass.”

She smiled, taking a bite of her sandwich. “It’s settled then. I’ll have a room prepared for you.”

…

Later that day, Elizabeth brought Samuel down to meet Henry. Nerves pooled in her stomach at the thought of a man about to meet a boy he’d never know was his son. She checked her little boy’s gown, stalling as guilt over keeping Samuel from Henry pierced her soul.

She was being cruel, and yet, if she did not continue with the farce, Samuel would be termed a bastard and Henry, no matter how much he may wish to declare the boy as his, could not enable him to inherit his Scottish estate. And blast it all to hell, but had Riddledale not impinged on their lives, none of this would have happened. She blinked back the sting of tears for a future lost, lifted her chin, and entered the drawing room.

Henry sat before the fire, a brandy in his hand, as he’d taken his after dinner drinks in here with her. It was such a homely situation, a man and woman, cooing over a child brought down before bedtime. It made her heart ache at the loss of such a life.

Henry stood when she entered the room, his attention on Samuel who wiggled against her hip and patted her cheeks with his little hands. She put the boy down, and he walked over to Henry, looking up at him with curiosity and awe.

“Hello.” Her son waddled over to the chair and climbed up, playing with his teddy.

Henry smiled and sat. “Hello. It’s lovely to meet ye, Samuel.”

Elizabeth came and sat beside her son, watching as his chubby hands clasped and moved his toy about on his lap. How she loved this child, would protect him from anything or anyone who tried to hurt him. “He’s just started lessons on deportment. He’s not very good.” Samuel looked up at her, and she grinned.

Henry laughed. “He’ll get there, and no doubt you’ll have him well looked after during his lessons.”

“Of course. Lord Newland knew of a local family who had a daughter who had gone to school specifically to become a nanny, and she’s the sweetest girl. Samuel adores her.”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs, and contemplated her. “Do you like being a mother? I must admit, it never even occurred to me that you would have a child.”

Elizabeth cuddled into her son, reveling in his warmth beside her. “When I first fell pregnant I thought my life was over.”

“Over? Why would you think such a thing?”

Her eyes widened, and she swore at her slip. “Only that we’d just been married and already I was increasing. It was quite a shock.” The lie felt thick in her throat, and she hated having to say it to him. He watched Samuel, smiling at the little boy, and she hoped he could not see the similarities between father and child, which, over the past year, had become more apparent.

Even now, the cowlick in Samuel’s hair, just above his right temple, was in the same position as Henry’s. The little cleft in his chin, his blue eyes, and long eyelashes. Not to mention Samuel had ebony colored hair while she and Newland were both light in shade.

“Newland would have been happy. I understand he was in an accident during his early life.”

“Yes, he fell from a horse and never fully recovered.” Elizabeth didn’t want to elaborate. The fact that her husband had told her he was unable to lie with a woman after his fall due to severe spasms that attacked his lower back still brought shame. After all he’d given her, the security of his name, a father for her son, she’d not been able to please him as she would have liked.

A scratch at the door sounded, and Samuel’s nanny walked in. “Excuse me, Lady Newland, but it’s time for his lordship to go to bed.”

Samuel jumped up on the chair, clasping Elizabeth about the neck, smacking his lips against her cheeks. She laughed. “I love you, too, my little boy. I will see you in the morning. Sweet dreams.”

“Good night, Mama.” No sooner had she given him a big hug than he jumped down and ran toward his nanny, his small legs working hard to move quickly. Henry bade her son good night and smiled at her as the door closed behind them.

“He’s a lovely lad. Ye must be so proud.”

“I am proud of him. He’ll be a good lord and an honorable man.”

“Just as his father sounded to be,” Henry said.

She nodded. “Yes, just as his papa was.”
And is.