Twilight with the Infamous Earl (10 page)

“Regan seems to think otherwise.” He slipped his arm through hers and led her to the door. “Don’t fret, my dear, it’s just a small gathering of family. And I volunteered to be your escort. Are you ready to depart or do you wish to change your dress?”

Emily withdrew her arm and moved away from him. He could sense that she was torn. She did not want to disappoint Regan, but she was not willing to place herself into his hands.

A pity since he could bring a woman to completion with his fingers alone, but such a declaration would send her fleeing to the safety of her bedchamber.

He would have to be patient, and that was difficult when he saw something he wanted—and he wanted Emily.

“And who is this?”

Frost had been so distracted by the woman standing next to him that he had not noticed her mother’s approach. Emily appeared to be startled by her presence.

He bowed. “Good afternoon, madam. I am Vincent Bishop, Earl of Chillingsworth.”

The lady brightened at his name. “It is a pleasure, Lord Chillingsworth. Are you here for Emily? She said when she saw your card that you had called on the wrong residence.”

Frost cast an amused look at Emily. “It is no mistake, Mrs. Cavell. My sister, Lady Pashley, asked me to drive your daughter to the small gathering that she is having.” He paused, his face clouding with concern. “Though there seems to be some confusion on the date.”

“Confusion? Nonsense.” Her mother’s mouth thinned with exasperation. She had more experience in dealing with her stubborn daughter, and Frost was happy to accept her assistance. “Emily, if Lady Pashley is expecting you and has generously provided you a handsome escort, then you must accept.”

“Mother, I was about to—”

“Ah, no arguments,” she said, taking Emily by the arm and directing her toward the stairs. “Wash your face and change your dress. I will keep your Lord Chillingsworth company while he waits for your return.”

“Lord Chillingsworth isn’t
my
anything,” she grumbled, but she dutifully headed for the stairs.

Satisfied with his victory, Frost crossed his hands behind his back and followed Mrs. Cavell into the parlor.

Chapter Eleven

“Do I owe you an apology?” Emily asked thirty minutes later after she and Lord Chillingsworth had bid farewell to her mother. With her maid’s assistance, she had hastily changed exchanged her morning dress for a striped yellow jaconet muslin dress with a corded band around the waist and a scalloped flounce at the bottom. There was nothing she could do with her hair but pin it up. She covered it with a large, flat-brimmed leghorn hat trimmed with a yellow satin ribbon and bow.

He squinted at her as he adjusted the reins in his hands. “Why do you presume that one is necessary?”

Emily could not fathom why he sounded so amused.

“I abandoned you to the tender mercies of my mother,” she replied, hoping her answer would suffice.

It was her mother’s fault that she was sitting beside him in his phaeton. While she recoiled at the thought of disappointing Regan, Emily was reluctant to spend any time alone with the earl as she struggled with the notion that he could very well be Lucy’s seducer.

How can you be certain if you do not confront him?

Her sleep had been restless as dreams of Lucy dying in her arms, and Frost’s kisses, pulled her into two different directions. The problem was that a part of her actually liked the arrogant gentleman. He had proven to be brave and protective, and he had managed to make her laugh. She had no doubts that he had lived up to his reputation as a Lord of Vice. However, was he capable of seducing a young innocent who had been betrothed to another gentleman? Could he be so calculating and cruel?

What if she accused him, and the charges proved false? Not only would Lord Chillingsworth sever all ties to her, she could possibly ruin her friendship with Regan. Then there were her mother’s high hopes that she might find a respectable gentleman to court her during their stay in London. The earl and his friends could cause trouble in that regard. An unkind word in the right gossip’s ear and the doors of the
ton
would be closed to her family. It would matter little that her mother was Lord Ketchen’s youngest daughter. The family had neither the wealth nor the influence to declare war on the earl.

“Not exactly a chatterbox, are you?” the man who called himself Frost said, interrupting her thoughts. “A very admirable trait in a lady. It makes the drive quite pleasant. Is this something you learned while you resided at Miss Swann’s Academy for Young Ladies?”

She tilted her head to glance at him. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m tempted to ask for a refund. None of the Miss Swann’s lessons seemed to make an adequate impression on my sister,” he explained, sounding disgruntled. “The school was supposed to instruct her on how to be a lady, and what I received was a disrespectful brat.”

Emily laughed at his description of Regan. “For a brat, your sister has managed quite well. She married Lord Pashley and presented him with a son. Unless it is a love match, most married couples would be content.”

He only offered her his profile, but she noticed his right brow arch at her comment. “Just content? I would have never guessed that you were cynical about marriage. However, to answer your unspoken question, yes, my sister and that bounder husband of hers love each other. I would have had to kill Dare to keep him away from Regan.”

He handled the reins and horses skillfully as they rounded another corner. When she realized they were entering Hyde Park, she asked, “Why have you brought me here? I thought your sister was expecting us?’”

“Are you accusing me of lying, Miss Cavell?” He made a soft chiding sound.

“No!”

He chuckled at her bald-faced lie. “Well, Regan is expecting us. However, I took the liberty of collecting you early.”

“Why?”

He gestured at the landscape. “I thought a drive through the park would please you. It is still early for the fashionable to be parading about, but it will give us the opportunity to finish our discussion.”

Emily nibbled at her lip. The earl was referring to what they had been doing before Regan and her husband’s timely arrival. “There is little to address,” she said lightly. “If I recall, I was about to leave and join my family when your sister came upon us.”

“While we were kissing,” he said bluntly.

No amount of will could prevent her skin from heating in embarrassment at the reminder. With any luck, Lord Chillingsworth would believe she was getting too much sun.

“We had already finished.”

The corners of his mouth curved into a knowing smile. “I was not quite finished. I was just giving you a moment to recover.”

Such arrogance! “You did not overwhelm me with a kiss, my lord. I was”—she struggled for a glib retort—“bored.”

The earl indelicately snorted. “You were not bored.”

Warming up to her topic, she shifted so her knees pressed against his leg. “Of course, I was surprised. I barely know you, Lord Chillingsworth.”

“Frost,” he said tersely.

She was not quite prepared to address him by that name. “Yes,
frost
aptly describes the kiss,” she said, deliberately misunderstanding. “Brittle, chilly, and I was reluctant to linger.”

She braced for his reaction. Had she gone too far? Having two brothers, she knew a blow to a man’s pride was capable of creating unanticipated consequences.

Lord Chillingsworth muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he slowed the horses. His right arm snaked around her waist and hauled her close. “The devil you say!”

Her hat was knocked askew as his mouth closed over hers. While the kiss was forceful, he reminded her that there was nothing brittle or chilly about his lips. They were unexpectedly soft against hers. He tasted divine, she thought with a sigh as she returned his kiss.

Lord Chillingsworth—no—Frost gave her lower lip a nip before he pulled away. “You look overly warm, Miss Cavell. You might want to fix your hat to keep the sun from browning your fair skin.”

He grinned at her bemused expression as he adjusted the reins, directing the horses back onto the gravel road.

Emily glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. “What if someone had seen us?” she asked, relieved for the moment that they were alone.

“It’s doubtful. It’s too early for the gossips, and anyone else is of little consequence,” he said dismissively.

Her hands were shaking when she reached up to adjust the angle of her hat. “I did not give you permission to kiss me, Lord Chillingsworth.”

“I have kissed you twice, Emily. The intimacy grants you the right to use the name my family and friends use.” He gave her a speculative glance. “No one will think you’re shameless if you do.”

“Perhaps not,” she said, retying the satin strings on her hat. “Even so, I highly doubt being in your company is good for my reputation.”

“I disagree.”

Naturally, he would. Frost was not the one who had to worry about his conduct. “So the gossips are spinning lies to amuse the
ton
?”

His cheeks became more pronounced as he contemplated her question. “It depends.”

“On what precisely?”

“Which stories you’ve heard,” he countered.

What about the rumors of you seducing young innocents for sport?

Emily could not bring herself to ask the question out loud. Instead, she lowered her gaze and focused on his gloved hand, which rested idly on his thigh. She recalled the strength and warmth of it as he pulled her against him.

“Should we be concerned about the time?” she said, slightly breathless at the realization that she wanted him to kiss her again. “It would be rude to arrive late.”

“My sister is used to my rudeness.”

She flinched when he expectantly reached up to brush aside a yellow satin string that had become caught on one of the buttons on her bodice.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he replied, aware that he was making her nervous. “Rudeness. Some consider it a character flaw, but I have found it useful.”

“And what does the person who must suffer your rudeness tell you?”

“Oh, they probably think I am an arse,” he said, signaling the horses to move off their gravel course and onto the grass. “Though most don’t have the courage to say it.”

“Why are we stopping?” Emily wondered if he was planning to kiss her again. “What about your sister?”

With the phaeton halted, she felt the impact of his turquoise-blue gaze. “Forget about Regan. I want to talk about why you are so interested in bringing down Nox.”

Chapter Twelve

“Nox?” she echoed. How had they gone from kissing to discussing the gentlemen’s club? Then she recalled that Regan had mentioned the club belonged to the Lords of Vice. “I have not patronized the establishment.”

He absently rubbed his face. “Not unexpected, since the club is strictly for males. Women have been known to visit the gambling hell. However, they are not the kind who fret about their reputations.”

He was speaking of prostitutes, poor lost creatures who were willing to sell their bodies for a few coins and a fleeting pleasure that never quite made them whole again.

She gave him a level look. “Then I consider myself fortunate to be burdened with morals and common sense. I have no desire to patronize such a place.”

His beautiful mouth twitched. “Truly? You aren’t a bit curious?”

“Not at all!” she huffed in outrage.

“Aw, come now, Emily,” he said silkily. “You must have a notion about what takes place in such an establishment. After all, rumor has it that if you had your way you would rid London of all its corruption and vices.”

She grew still at his revelation. People had been gossiping about
her
? The notion was absurd. “Who told you that?”

“It isn’t important,” he said dismissively. “What concerns me is your interest in Nox. While your little moral crusade amuses me, it is also very dangerous.”

“Are you threatening me, Lord Chillingsworth?” she asked in hushed tones. A small part of her was hopeful that he was, since it would settle her internal debate about his character.

“And confirm your worst suspicions about me or Nox?” He grunted. “Hardly. No, little innocent, Nox is nothing to concern yourself with.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, you should worry about me, Emily,” he said softly. “But that is neither here nor there. The danger of which I speak of is that of the genuine criminals in this town. There are numerous unpleasant individuals who would gladly slit your throat if you prevent them from turning a profit on their various criminal enterprises.”

“And what of Nox? You do not consider it illegal and corrupt?”

“You would have to be more specific, and I doubt you would be pleased with my answers. What you should be aware of is that the club belongs to the Lords of Vice, my dear. You might want to remember that when you are surrounded by the seven founding members at my sister’s house.”

Regan had invited everyone to her house this afternoon. It was a disconcerting thought. She had assumed that Frost had been invited because he was family. “And what if I ignore your sage advice?”

“Oh, I would not recommend it, Emily.” He moistened his lips, and the look he gave her weakened her knees. It was a good thing that she was already sitting. “Besides, I can be quite persuasive when I want something.”

“And what do you want, Lord Chillingsworth?”

“For you to leave Nox alone,” he said flatly. His turquoise-blue eyes softened and warmed at the distress that she could not conceal. “And other things, but they are best put aside for now.”

The earl reached for the reins he had secured. “Perhaps you are correct. As pleasant as this drive has been, we should continue on to my sister’s residence.”

He turned the phaeton about, heading for the entrance of the park.

Emily nodded, marveling that Lord Chillingsworth could deliver kisses and threats with jaunty aplomb. It was obvious that he could be ruthless when the situation required. Nox meant something to him, and it was a vulnerability she could exploit if she was brave enough.