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Authors: Gayle Callen

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BOOK: Surrender to the Earl
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He still hadn’t donned his gloves, and the soft press of his lips was almost shocking. She reminded herself that she was a widow, that she knew the ways of men.

But one night of intimacy with a man who didn’t want her had not prepared her for the attentions of Lord Knightsbridge as he put on a show for her family.

“We all survived the telling,” she murmured at last.

She shivered as he touched her hair at her temple, then said his good-byes.

She was alone, her hands shaking, her appetite gone. But she nibbled on some of the cold toast and tried to tell herself that it was done, that she could escape.

But she wasn’t out the door yet.

Chapter 6

A
lthough Robert was not in the mood to hunt, he could not risk alienating another member of the Collins family, so he walked the woods with Mr. Collins, even as the beaters ran before them to chase out the birds, rabbits, and foxes. He received cautious congratulations from the other young men, and he knew they considered him eccentric or just plain crazy. None of them understood that there was more to marriage than being able to look upon the average debutante for the rest of your life. The surface things faded, especially appearance. He’d seen war damage so many people, yet often, if they were lucky, they were still the same inside.

He shook his head, bemused at his thoughts. He should take his own advice when it was time to find a real bride. What kind of woman that would be? He had no idea, but he should give himself at least a Season to figure it out.

He certainly hadn’t gone without women all these years. British Society flourished in India, and although he’d stayed away from the eligible misses, there had always been an eager widow who appreciated his companionship when he was in Bombay.

When the hunting was finished, he had his horse saddled and rode into the village to the blacksmith’s shop, where Mr. Collins had suggested he look for a carriage. One would be available on the morrow, so he resigned himself to another night under Lord Collins’s roof. Robert hoped his subtle threats had been enough to dissuade the baron from trying anything to stop their departure.

A
udrey’s room was a disaster, with clothes sorted into piles everywhere. Molly rushed about gleefully, escorting the footmen as they brought the trunks, talking nonstop until Audrey’s head spun.

Molly had taken the news of the engagement with shock and then excitement. After all, Audrey was marrying a handsome earl. It was a fairy tale as far as the staff was concerned, and she had received several offers of congratulations from below the stairs as the morning went on. The housekeeper had actually dabbed at her wet eyes and whispered that it was time Audrey had her own household. Audrey had agreed, and gradually stopped worrying about what her father might do.

Molly had happily decided to accompany Audrey, to “see the world,” she kept repeating, even though Buckinghamshire was only the next county. But Audrey felt the same way. She might not be able to “see” it like everyone else, but she had Molly to describe things, and she could experience the world her own way. After all, there were new sounds and smells, things that were very important to her. And she had Molly, for without her . . . Audrey hadn’t even considered what she would do if her faithful friend didn’t want to go.

By midmorning, the first trunk was packed, and they were sorting through the “maybe” pile for her last trunk.

Molly stopped speaking in mid-sentence, then said uncertainly, “Good morning, Miss Collins.”

Surprised, Audrey turned, wishing she could read her sister’s expression. “What can I do for you, Blythe? Isn’t it strange that we’re both packing for a trip?” Oh, now she was babbling. Of course it was strange—Audrey was never allowed to go anywhere. And she certainly hadn’t intended to sound sarcastic.

She smelled her sister’s jasmine perfume as the woman drew closer.

“I think you’re making a terrible mistake.” Blythe’s voice trembled.

Molly said, “I’ll just leave you two—”

“No,” Blythe interrupted. “This won’t take long, and Molly, even you must agree with me. Audrey doesn’t know him. If she won’t listen to me, can’t you talk sense into her?”

Molly didn’t answer, and Audrey thought it unfair to put her maid in the middle. “Blythe, I haven’t married him yet. I have time to change my mind.”

“But he’s a stranger!”

“Every person at dinner last night either knew who he was, or had heard of him. He’s not an unknown stranger, anyway. It’s not as if he could take me off somewhere. People know what’s happening between us.” Which was why Lord Knightsbridge had been right, that he couldn’t just escort her away. It would have caused not only talk, but alarm.

Blythe still sounded tight with disappointment and anger, but was there also a touch of concern there? Audrey wanted to hope so, but she’d been disappointed so many times before.

“Blythe, I wish . . .” Her words faded for a moment. “I wish this didn’t hurt you.”

Blythe didn’t even attempt to deny it. “Well, it does. It’s just not fair.”

“I know,” she whispered. For just a moment, she wished she could confide the truth in her sister, that she wasn’t marrying the earl, but if that knowledge got to their father . . . she’d be trapped there forever.

“How do you make these men feel sorry for you?” Blythe asked in a bewildered voice.

Audrey heard Molly inhale swiftly, and she herself felt defensive. Calmly, she said, “Blythe, do you remember that I was lied to by Mr. Blake? He never felt sorry for me. He used me and betrayed me.”

There was a taut silence, and then Blythe suddenly whispered, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

That was progress, Audrey thought, beginning to feel hopeful. “And as for Lord Knightsbridge . . . if I thought for one moment he felt sorry for me, I would send him on his way. But why should he, Blythe? Why should my condition matter to him at all, if he has feelings for me? He doesn’t owe me anything, especially not pity. I didn’t encourage his interest, but I did not turn him away, either. And if he
didn’t
have feelings for me, why would he make a blind woman his countess?”

“I don’t know!” Blythe cried. “But is it not suspicious?”

Audrey opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. It
would
be suspicious, if it had been true. But Blythe didn’t know that. “I promise I will consider this engagement very carefully. I’ll be in my own home, and he’ll be in his. I’ll meet people from his village, get to know more about him. Will that satisfy you?”

“I—I suppose so.”

Audrey heard a whirl of her skirts.

“I need to finish packing,” Blythe said.

“Do you have wonderful plans for when you visit Father’s sister in London?” It was what she always asked whenever Blythe went away. Normally, it was like rubbing salt in her own wounds, having to live through her sister’s adventures—or the brief crumbs Blythe told her. But not anymore.

Blythe didn’t answer, and Audrey told herself that perhaps she’d been walking away so fast, she hadn’t heard.

Just before luncheon, a carriage drove below her window.

“Molly?”

A moment later, Molly said, “It’s the family carriage, Miss Audrey. And I saw Miss Blythe as it went by.”

Audrey sighed. “So she left without even saying good-bye.”

“I’m sorry, miss.”

“Don’t be. That conversation might have been one of the best we’ve ever had. I think she was honestly worried about me, beneath her anger. I will write to her when I reach my new home.”

My new home,
she repeated in her head. It felt good.

L
uncheon was cold meat and sandwiches, so that the men could get back outside. The afternoon was for fishing, and Robert might have declined so that he could help Mrs. Blake, but he thought his presence in the house would only exacerbate Lord Collins’s fury. And it had been good to spend time with Mr. Collins, who didn’t seem like a bad chap. He wanted to get to know Robert, too. His protectiveness of his sister was very late, but welcome just the same.

At dinner, Robert made certain he could sit beside his “fiancée.” More of the men spoke to her, too, as if being a future countess suddenly made her a person in their eyes.

The evening in the drawing room didn’t last long, as everyone would be getting an early start home in the morn. When the room was at last just family and Robert, Lord Collins started to leave. He hadn’t spoken a word to Robert or Mrs. Blake all evening.

“Lord Collins, may I have a word?” Robert called, rising to his feet. He noticed Mrs. Blake stiffen.

Her father came to a stop near the door. “Say it quickly.”

“Will Mrs. Blake be able to take her gelding?”

Mrs. Blake tilted her head toward him, but said nothing.

“No, it’s my horse,” the baron said darkly.

“Erebus has been trained to carry me, Father,” Mrs. Blake pointed out. “To train another horse could take years.”

“I’ll purchase it from you,” Robert said flatly, “as my engagement gift to Mrs. Blake.”

“Father,” Mr. Collins began.

“Fine! Take it!” Lord Collins said harshly and stormed out into the hall.

Mr. Collins gave Robert an apologetic glance. “I’ll speak to him.” To Mrs. Blake, he said, “Shall I leave you alone with Lord Knightsbridge?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Mr. Collins eyed Robert speculatively, then closed the door. Robert sat back down on the sofa beside Mrs. Blake.

“Thank you for thinking of my horse, my lord,” she said quietly. “In all the confusion of packing up my room, I never thought of the animal.”

“You deserve to have it, for all the reasons you stated. I want you to be comfortable in your new home.”

“My new home,” she echoed wistfully.

They both heard footsteps in the entrance hall again. Robert had a flash of Mr. Collins’s speculation, and suddenly he realized he had to make this look good. He pulled off his gloves, and then cupped Mrs. Blake’s face in his hands, leaning close.

She gasped and whispered, “What are you doing?”

He felt the warmth of her breath on his mouth, and was startled by how distracting such a simple thing was. “Your brother looked suspicious,” he said. “I believe he means to test us.”

“But—”

“Stop talking, or I’ll have to kiss you to keep you quiet.”

Her eyes went round, her moist lips parted, and suddenly, he
wanted
to kiss her. She smelled of rose water, and he inhaled as if he could fill his entire being with it. But he held back, knowing he had no plans to marry her, however soft and warm her cheeks felt in his hands, however prettily she blushed.

“You have the most beautiful eyes,” he murmured, even as he vaguely heard the door open.

Mrs. Blake jumped back.

He dropped his hands and glanced to see Mr. Collins enter hesitantly.

“Forgot my book,” the other man said, reddening. “Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive,” Robert said cheerfully, and waited until the other man took a book from a shelf and left the room. He let out his breath.

“A book?” Mrs. Blake said dubiously. “Edwin hasn’t read a book since university.”

“It was a deception to see what we were doing.”

“I don’t understand . . .”

Robert smiled at her, but she gave no answering response. He’d never considered how much human interaction had to do with reading the signals from another person’s expression and body. “Your brother—or perhaps your father put him up to it—wonders if something else is going on. Mr. Collins wanted to see if we had any passion when we were alone.”

Her blush deepened even by candlelight. “But won’t that make him think everything between us is . . . physical? That instead of making logical decisions, my heart is being swayed by . . .”

When her voice trailed away, he grinned. “By my expert kisses?”

“Oh please,” she said with skepticism.

“Passion is a better reason to marry than something as cold-blooded as money or social status—or power.”

“The first two are already proven wrong where we’re concerned. I have nothing but a small manor to bring to this supposed marriage.” She lowered her voice on “supposed.” “But power? What do you mean?”

“There are men who want to control everything around them,” he said quietly, thinking of his father. “And a wife should be controlled most of all, because she’s an extension of him.”

Mrs. Blake pressed her lips together and held herself still for a moment. “You are talking about your parents?”

“Not really. My mother did as she pleased—but she was very careful to be discreet. My father treated everyone as if they were under his power. Another thing you and I have in common. What about your parents?”

“You may be surprised, but I think they loved each other. My mother tempered my father’s worst impulses. He was always embarrassed by me, but she made things better. When she died seven years ago . . . he was not the same man. Then again, none of us were the same. She was my champion, who treated me like a normal girl.”

“Was Miss Collins jealous of her attention to you?”

“I . . . maybe she was, and I just never realized.”

They were still sitting close together on the sofa, their knees brushing. And then Mrs. Blake slid back.

“My lord—”

“Call me Robert,” he suddenly said. “No one has done so in years, and I have a sudden yearning to hear my Christian name.”

“Very well . . . Robert.”

That was dragged out of her so reluctantly, he almost laughed.

“You may call me Audrey.”

“Audrey,” he repeated. “If I say it’s a lovely name, will you blush again? You do it so prettily.”

She did blush again, but her words were no-nonsense. “No one can see us now, Lord—Robert, so please do not flirt. It is . . . distracting.”

“I’m to play a part, Audrey. It is difficult to put the fiancé aside, and then remember to be him again.”

“I may be playing your fiancée, but I expect you to treat me as I want to be treated. Last night I asked you to allow me to handle breaking the news of our engagement to my brother and sister. But you didn’t.”

“I was trying to be of help,” he said, bemused.

“I’m not a doll you need to protect. I knew the situation might be bad, and I was prepared to handle it. Next time, please respect my wishes.”

Had he just assumed he knew what was best for her? That wasn’t gentlemanly of him, and he didn’t like the trait. “I will do my best to agree with your wishes from now on.”

“You sound sincere, and I appreciate that. Just remember—I can hear when you’re not. People think they’re better at lying than they really are.”

“How interesting. I will keep it in mind.”

She rose to her feet. “We leave just after dawn, do we not?”

“It would be best, considering that a carriage with two extra horses tied behind will have to drive at a slow pace. It will take us near two full days.”

BOOK: Surrender to the Earl
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