To Tempt an Earl (22 page)

Brandy, he needed it desperately. The good
French kind, the very kind that was outlawed.

Bloody Bonaparte.

"Sir?" Selwyn's voice interrupted Graham's
odd musings.

"Yes?" Graham turned to face his aged
butler.

"This came for you. Since the sender is your
sister, I took the liberty of bringing the post to you directly."
The man extended a silver tray holding a square missive.

"Thank you, Selwyn."

"Will there be anything else, sir?" The
butler's green eye studied him; concern etched the corner wrinkles
of his face.

"Not at the moment, thank you." Graham
dismissed the man, guilt gnawing at him from his butler's
expression. To Selwyn's credit, he hadn't pressed for
information.

Another blessing for being in Scotland.

The butler nodded and left quietly, closing
the study door behind him silently.

Graham studied the missive and withdrew his
sharp opener from the wide mahogany desk. With a quick slit, the
letter opened. Graham placed the family heirloom opener back on his
desk and took a fortifying breath.

He had to give his sister some glory; she had
waited two weeks to contact him.

Thank heavens for small miracles.

However his prayer was cut short by a string
of swearing.

In German and Dutch.

Then he swore in Italian for good
measure.

The thick paper missive slipped through his
fingers and lightly tapped against the Aubusson rug.

Immediately, a thousand fragmented memories,
ones he had been so determined to keep locked within, sprang to
life, enveloping him in her smile, the tone of her laughter, and
the warmth of her soft body pressed against his.

And mocked him.

He'd fled to Scotland to resist the
temptation she presented.

He hadn't returned, hoping that she'd find a
love worthy of her.

He was an utter fool.

Because in his sister's letter he learned
that everything he'd tried to accomplish had succeeded.

Bethanny was engaged to — hell take him —
Lord Neville.

His heart seized in his chest, each thumping
beat painful, aching.

She was out of reach.

Unless…

Graham picked up the missive and studied it
again, re-reading his sister's
words:

To celebrate, His Grace is hosting a house
party at Greenford Waters. You've been invited as well, though I
doubt you'll wish to attend.

He damn well was going to attend!

Bethanny was thankful that Lady Southridge
had agreed to speak with the duke about the house party.

Of everyone she knew, Lady Southridge was the
most difficult to refuse. She'd have to learn that particular
trait.

In short work, the party was set up for the
third week in June and would last for a full week. Carlotta had
been thrilled with the idea and went out the very next day to
select the stationary for the invitations.

The duke wasn't as thrilled. However,
Bethanny felt it insufficient penance for him to simply be
disgruntled. After all, it was because of his meddling that the
house party was necessary at all!

With a long sigh, Bethanny leaned back
against the chaise in the library and studied the tall ceiling.
Carlotta had explained the duke's reason for intervention between
her and Graham, but she continued to struggle to find the happy
medium between forgiveness and anger.

She knew that his intention had been
honorable and within his right. However, that didn't change the
fact that because he had exercised that power, Lord Graham wasn't
even in the same country as she.

Did he miss her? Was she haunting his dreams
as he was haunting hers? Melancholy had been her companion since
she had been made aware of his departure to Scotland. Thank the
heavens for her sisters; they had been her source of comfort — and
entertainment — since the awful occurrence.

Speaking of which, Bethanny tilted her head
as she heard soft footsteps in the hall.

"Bethanny?" Carlotta's melodic voice called
in a quiet grace.

"Yes?" Bethanny sat up straighter and
smoothed the soft velvet of her light violet day gown.

"Ah, I — er—" Carlotta paused and glanced
behind her in the hallway. A moment later she slipped in the door
and closed it tightly.

Bethanny raised an eyebrow in question.

"I just spoke with the duke, and I wanted to
inform you of the circumstances of his agreement."

"I was under the impression he already
had
agreed." Bethanny felt her brow furrow.

"He had. However, today he made known some…
conditions." Carlotta smiled softly.

Her quiet grin gave Bethanny encouragement,
soothing her initial concern.

"I imagine that these conditions aren't too
trying, based on your expression." Bethanny grinned.

"Nothing too problematic, I assure you."
Carlotta continued into the room and sat opposite of Bethanny.
"However, these conditions are to be followed with all alacrity."
Carlotta shot a meaningful gaze.

"Understood."

"Very well, the first condition is quite
self-explanatory, and I think you'll understand it, based on the
fact that the very reason we're in this predicament is that this
social protocol was thoroughly breeched." She narrowed her eyes in
a scolding manner. "You are not to be alone with Lord Graham."

"But—"

"Unless…" Carlotta waited as Bethanny halted
her argument and practiced patience.

Extreme
patience.

"Unless I am aware of your request and am at
a suitable distance to chaperone."

"
That
is not the same as being
alone."

"
That
is the best you're going to
get." Carlotta raised an eyebrow as if daring her to argue.

Bethanny understood the social standards, the
rules to follow that were proper protocol when dealing with sexes;
however, that didn't mean she agreed or even liked them. After
tasting the delicious flavor of freedom in a lover's embrace, she
was more than reluctant to agree.

However she saw no other option.

And as much as she hated to admit it, perhaps
it was for the best.

"Very well." Bethanny nodded.

"I suppose some leniency could be arranged…"
Carlotta's tone drifted.

"Yes?" Bethanny leaned on the edge of her
seat.

"If,
if,
a proposal is
forthcoming."

"Oh." Bethanny's hopes felt flat. Of course
she hoped, dreamed, desired above all things for that very thing to
happen, but how did a lady provoke such a degree of sentiment if
she were unable to be alone with her suitor?

"I know what you're thinking."

Bethanny shot her a curious glance.

"Just because the idea of falling in love is
more fashionable than in the past is no reason to disregard our
standards. There are reasons for the rules, Bethanny. They protect
you. They also protect Lord Graham. Would you wish to enter a union
as holy as marriage on any less of a footing than complete
authenticity? Would you trap him? Or have him trap you? Pretend
that it's not Lord Graham we're speaking of. What of Lord Neville,
for example? Would you wish him to be forced to offer for your hand
because you were foolish enough to be caught alone with him?"

"No, of course not, but—"

"No
buts
." Carlotta held firm.

At Bethanny's nod, she continued.

"Now the final condition His Grace required
was that upon Lord Graham's arrival, he is to be unable to find
you." Carlotta's grin widened.

"Pardon?" Bethanny tilted her head in
confusion. It was customary for the gentleman to be out when the
lady arrived. How was this any different?

"Allow me to explain further. For the first
day of his arrival, you are to be hidden away. Unable to be found.
The first time he shall see you will be at dinner."

"I'm not sure I fully understand—"

Carlotta waved her hand playfully. "His Grace
is quite a romantic at heart, dear. You might not be able to see
it. However, when I disclosed to him all the particulars concerning
the party—"

"You what?" Bethanny was aghast! Never had
she expected Carlotta to lay out all the true intentions behind the
plan.

"Would you have me deceive my husband?"
Carlotta asked softly.

"No, but… I would have preferred…" Bethanny
trailed off, uncertain as to how to continue.

"As I said, my husband is a romantic at
heart. Truth be told, he didn't expect the deep attachment Lord
Graham had toward you, or you toward him. When it became apparent
that Lord Graham's intentions were honorable, the duke tried to
reason with Lord Graham, but the damage was done. And, I must admit
that although it has taken him a bit to get over the idea of his
friend offering for you, he has warmed considerably to it."

"I assume that I have you to thank for such a
feat?" Bethanny asked kindly.

"No, you may give credit to your guardian. He
came to the conclusion himself." Carlotta smiled.

"Why, may I ask, does the duke wish for Lord
Graham to not find me upon his arrival, assuming that he
does
in fact, arrive?"

"Oh, he'll attend, don't you worry about
that." Carlotta gave a sly wink. "But, according to the duke, the
fact that Lord Graham will not be able to find you will only twist
his already prolific imagination and, given the nature of the party
— as far as he's concerned — it will only progress the plan and
accelerate the desired outcome."

"Diabolical." Bethanny breathed in awe.

"Indeed. I must say I was quite proud."
Carlotta's grin widened.

"I'm quite impressed myself. Though, such a
scheme truly smacks of Lady Southridge's influence — though I'd
never tell him!" Bethanny giggled as Carlotta nodded.

"Undeniably! That was my very same thought.
Though I wisely agree with you, he need not know where he gleaned
his nefarious, scheming ideas." Carlotta bit her lower lip as if
trying to restrain her mirth. She tilted her head, her green eyes
studying Bethanny. "Soon, dear. I know the wait is torture, but I
have all faith it will work out."

"How?" Bethanny asked in a small voice. "How
can you be so sure? This is quite an elaborate scheme, and it might
all be for naught. Yet my heart is bursting with fear and
anticipation because… what if it
does
work? And what of
love? Am I naïve in hoping for more than a match, but for devotion,
love, and honor? Am I unwise in seeking those from Lord Graham? I…
I simply am questioning—"

"Yes, you
are
questioning, because
sometimes distance gives us the opportunity to evaluate. This can
be both beneficial, yet also detrimental. You mustn't let all your
thinking result in an acute lack of hope. That is not what God
would have for you."

"I hadn't actually thought of this in the
context of God, actually. Though admitting that seems quiet
selfish." Bethanny glanced down to her lap, her brow furrowed. It
wasn't that she didn't believe in God. After all, church was a
monumental part of one's life. However, to think that God would be
concerned with something as minimal as her life… she simply hadn't
considered the thought.

"Remember the verse, 'Faith, hope and love,
but the greatest of these is love'?" Carlotta asked.

"Of course." It was one of the first ones
she'd memorized as a little girl.

"Love is coupled with faith and hope, yet it
is declared as the greatest. Love is surrounded by faith —
believing
without seeing the evidence — and hope —
continuing
to believe even when you don't see the evidence —
because love is consummation of both. Love serves, it lowers
itself, love cannot exist apart from faith and hope, yet it is
glorified above them because it's the fullness of faith and hope
experienced. And, when you are questioning, as you are now, it is
easy to lose sight of this truth, letting fear steal it away. Fear
is the opposite of love. It's the antithesis of faith, and it
always will steal your hope."

"Fear. That's truly what I believe plagues
me. Because what if—"

"Indeed, what
if,
not what
will,"
Carlotta finished, folding her hands in her lap.

"True."

"To get back to answering your question, the
true question you should ask yourself is not if this whole scheme
will work, but if you trust God enough to allow Him to do what is
best for you, even if you don't understand it yourself."

"I—I'm not sure."

"Then
that
is the answer you must
seek. Because it's the only one that will offer peace. But for the
record, I can honestly say that while having faith and holding to
hope are difficult, they never disappoint. After all, if God closes
a door…" Carlotta let the old saying linger.