What a Wicked Earl Wants (10 page)

“Right,” Harry said. “You only want to help her.”

Colin snorted. “To what?”

“She’s a lady,” he said through gritted teeth.

“No offense intended.” Colin inhaled from the cheroot and exhaled. “We’re only needling you.”

Harry ground out his cheroot. “Seriously, Bell, it sounds as if Lady Chesfield needs help with her son.”

He frowned. “I’ve gotten too tangled up in her life already. This is the end of it. If I discover the uncle is involved in nefarious deeds, then I’ll make the information available to her.”

One week later

After receiving an invitation from Mrs. Norcliffe, Bell felt obliged to put in a brief appearance at her Venetian breakfast for Harry’s sake. Generally he avoided these sorts of afternoon garden parties, unless he intended to discuss politics with some of his allies. Even then, he usually left early and certainly intended to do so today.

A cool breeze stirred the leaves of the beech trees as he strolled out onto the grounds. Ladies with parasols walked along the garden paths where a riot of bright-colored flowers he couldn’t name blossomed. One path led to a bridge overlooking a pond. Just ahead, a large tent shaded the tables and chairs where guests were enjoying refreshments.

Harry and Colin strolled outside the tent. Then Harry shaded his eyes and waved.

Glad to have found his friends quickly, Bell strode in that direction.

When he reached them, Harry clapped his hand on Bell’s shoulder. “I thought you might have decided to bow out of this tepid entertainment.”

Bell grinned. “I figured the pair of you would fall in the pond and need to be rescued.”

“Careful. We’re liable to dunk you,” Colin said.

“It would certainly liven things up,” Harry grumbled. “My mother refused to serve anything stronger than lemonade and small beer.”

“God save us. We might perish of sobriety,” Bell muttered.

“This way,” Harry said. “My mother insisted upon meeting you.”

Once inside the tent, Harry introduced his mother, Mrs. Norcliffe, and two of his female cousins, Agnes and Helen, who whispered to each other as if they were silly schoolgirls. The entire time they regarded him with scheming expressions.

Agnes, a redhead with a flat bosom, curtsied. “Have you seen the pond and the goldfish, my lord?”

He sensed she meant to trap him into escorting her there. “Only from a distance.”

Agnes tittered. “You simply must see it.”

He’d always found that nervous sort of laugh irritating. The last thing he wanted was to squire her anywhere. He remained silent, a move he’d used many times to discourage either a determined lady or her conniving mama.

“I would be happy to show you,” Agnes said.

Apparently she was not easily deterred. “I do not wish to trouble you.”

“It is no trouble at all,” she said.

He despised women who tried to manipulate him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t escape, because she was Harry’s cousin. He was on the verge of offering his escort when he saw Laura following Lady Atherton. The grand dame cut a swath through the crowd and greeted Mrs. Norcliffe.

“What a lovely party.” Lady Atherton kissed the air by Mrs. Norcliffe’s cheeks. After Harry’s mother made all of the introductions, Bell turned his attention to Laura. He was struck anew by her sweet smile and pretty green eyes. Today she wore a white gown with a blue sash and blue ribbons trimming the puffed sleeves along with a white shawl. He knew next to nothing about women’s clothing, other than how to strip it off, but he liked her simple style.

Bell took the opportunity to go greet Laura. “My friends wish to meet you, if you are amenable.”

“Very well,” she said. Her expression turned a bit wary, but she accepted his proffered arm.

He leaned down. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m a bit flustered. Miss Agnes Norcliffe glared at me.”

A flowery scent drifted toward him. For a moment, his brain froze as he focused on her lips. Her very kissable lips. He reminded himself she was off-limits and forced himself to concentrate. “I suppose she’s jealous.”

“Of me?”

“Probably. She was rather determined to show me about the grounds, and I was determined not to go.”

“You were not interested in seeing them?”

He met her gaze. “I wasn’t interested in her.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

“I prefer you.”

Her smile faded. “Your rakish charms will not work on me.”

“I’m being truthful,” he said. “I prefer you because I’m safe from you.”

She pointed at herself. “You, safe from me?”

“You forget we have something in common. You share my disinclination to marry, so I’m in no danger of getting caught in the parson’s mousetrap.”

“Even if I were inclined to wed, you would be quite safe from me,” she muttered.

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or insulted.”

“I admit you have some positive attributes. You are an earl, extremely rich, and far too handsome for your own good.”

“But…”

She put her chin up. “You are an infamous rake and therefore completely unsuitable to be a husband to anyone, let alone to a lady of principles.”

He lifted his brows. “Meaning a woman with high moral standards like you.”

“Given my father’s vocation, you shouldn’t be surprised.”

“So you never sin.”

“Do not be absurd. No one is free of sin,” she said.

“Tell me one of your sins…if you’re brave enough.”

“Very well, it occurred in my drawing room.” She glanced at him. “With you.”

“It was only a kiss.” It was more than a mere kiss. He’d not been able to forget the feel of her in his arms, and that only made him want more from her.

“You see, we are completely different,” she said. “To you a kiss is practically meaningless. To me, it is a momentous step in a relationship.”

She was probably thinking of her late husband. “A kiss can mean many things,” he said, “but it is never devoid of meaning.”

“Are we really debating the meaning of a kiss?”

“I cede the point to you on one condition,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”

“You allow me to introduce you to those two gentlemen just ahead.”

“Let me guess. They are friends of yours.”

“Yes. They’re anxious to meet the mysterious widow.”

She huffed. “There is no mystery. I’m exactly who I appear to be.”

There was a hidden side to her, a sensual one, but he said nothing as he led her to his friends. “Lady Chesfield, may I introduce you to my disreputable friends, Colin Brockhurst, Earl of Ravenshire, and Harry Norcliffe, Viscount Evermore. I met them when I fished them out of the Thames one night.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, in spite of your watery origins,” she said.

“Our friend Bell exaggerates a bit,” Colin said. “Harry fell in the river and Bell helped me drag him to shore.”

“Well, you appear to have survived,” she said.

Harry lifted her hand. “
Enchanté
, Lady Chesfield. Bell neglected to mention your beauty.”

She lowered her lashes, and her face flushed. Most of the women Bell knew reacted with affected boredom when complimented, as if it were their due. But he’d realized from the beginning that Laura was different.

“Bell, take her to the bridge,” Harry said. “There’s a pond with goldfish—my mother’s idea of pets.”

Bell offered his arm once more and led her out of the tent.

“I left my parasol,” she said.

“Where did you leave it?” he said. “I’ll fetch it for you.”

“Never mind. My bonnet will provide sufficient shade,” she said.

“You surprise me,” he said as they walked along the path. “Most women wouldn’t risk even a bit of sun.”

“There are worse things than sunshine.”

He wondered what she meant. Not that he could hazard a guess when he knew only a few essentials about her life. It was probably for the best. He didn’t appreciate it when people were overly inquisitive about him.

The breeze stirred the leaves of the beech trees overhead. She said nothing more as they walked along.

He looked at her. “How are matters with your son?”

“Justin has improved a great deal since he is no longer associating with his rowdy friends.”

“I’m surprised it was that easy,” he said.

“It wasn’t. George and Paul called earlier this week. Apparently they were intimidated when they realized I would not let Justin leave until I knew their destination and the time they meant to return. They have not called since then.”

“Your son wasn’t angry?”

“He was furious, but there was nothing he could do. I ignored his shouts. When he threw a vase, I told him that I was deducting the cost from his quarterly allowance. He threw another one, and I refused to release any more funds until he stopped acting like a heathen. Yesterday he finally apologized for his behavior.”

“It must have been difficult, but you stood firm,” he said.

“I thought parenting would be easier after he grew older.”

“Is he here?” Bell asked.

“Yes. I persuaded him to come along and promised to leave if he didn’t meet anyone. We weren’t here more than fifteen minutes when a group of young people invited him to join in a sack race.”

Bell nodded. “Excellent.” He paused. “It looks as if everyone is returning to the tent.”

“They’re serving luncheon. If you’re hungry, please go ahead,” she said.

He shook his head. “I’d prefer to wait until the crowd thins.”

When they reached the bridge, his boots clomped on the wood. He stopped in the center and removed his hat to prevent it from falling into the pond. “There’s one,” he said, pointing. “Do you see the tail?”

She leaned over the rail. “Oh, it looks orange. I expected it to appear gold.”

“There are more,” he said. “There is a golden one. Do you see its tail wiggling?”

“Oh, yes, there are quite a few. I wonder what they eat.”

He shrugged. “What do any fish eat?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Worms.”

“Have you ever gone fishing?” he asked.

“No. My brothers used to chase my sister and me with the worms.”

He laughed. “So you weren’t a hoyden?”

She shook her head. “I helped my mother with the younger children.”

There wouldn’t have been funds for a nurse. “How old were you when you started helping?”

She shrugged. “Eight or nine. I can’t recall for certain.”

Their lives had been very different growing up, and that only made him curious. “You probably had a number of beaux before you married.”

She kept her gaze on the wiggling fish below. “Not really.”

“I suspect you are being modest.”

“I danced at local assemblies and spoke to gentlemen, but I knew that my charms were insufficient to overcome my small dowry.” She smiled at him. “Then one day I met Phillip in the shop where we were both caught because of the rain.”

He returned her smile. “So your story wasn’t a complete fabrication.”

“Well, he didn’t lay his coat over a puddle,” she said, “but we got on famously from the start.”

“What of your sisters? Are they married?”

She nodded.

He gave her a questioning look. “They had no trouble finding husbands?”

She smoothed her skirt. “My late husband wished to help my family.”

Her husband had made sure the girls had dowries, a good thing because the only acceptable professions available to women were to be a governess or a companion to an older woman. Otherwise, single women of little fortune became dependents on their relatives. “I assume he provided well for you in his will.”

“Yes, he was generous with everyone, including his brother.”

He shuttered his expression, but inside he was appalled that her late husband would give his brother anything. “Having met Montclief, I’m surprised.”

“My brother-in-law reserved his underhanded remarks for moments when Phillip was out of earshot.” Her fleeting smile spoke volumes. “He would say things that were supposed to be complimentary but were not.”

“Such as?”

“He would say how devoted I was to Phillip, and of course he was grateful for the care I gave him.” She continued to speak in a sarcastic voice. “Naturally, he would not treat me in a condescending manner, even though I was
far beneath
my husband.”

“Did you not tell your husband that he was treating you in this abominable manner?”

She shook her head. “At first I wanted to keep the peace. I was a little intimidated by the change in my circumstances when I first married. Then later, I said nothing to Phillip, because I did not wish to burden him.”

“If your husband had known, he might have used better judgment in naming his son’s guardian,” Bell said.

She arched her brows. “In hindsight, perhaps I should have told Phillip, but in the early days of our marriage, I didn’t know my husband would die.”

He sighed. “I beg your pardon for misjudging you and your late husband.”

“Phillip grew very ill with a wasting disease five months after our marriage,” she said. “He was bedridden and nearly as helpless as a babe. I could not confess his brother’s ill treatment when Phillip’s spirits were so low. It might have hastened his decline.”

“Obviously you did what you felt was best for your husband.”

“After Phillip died, Montclief washed his hands of Justin and me. Frankly, I was glad he stayed away.”

Another couple approached the bridge. Bell offered his arm to Laura again and strolled across with her. “You said you’ve no intention of marrying again. Is there a reason?”

“Yes, my son.”

“Why would your son preclude you from marrying?”

“If I were to remarry, Montclief might decide to take Justin. I am not his blood relative,” she said.

“He could take him at anytime,” Bell said, “but then again, your son will be of age in four years. You could marry then.”

“In four years, I will be thirty-two. Most men prefer younger wives.”

He suspected she was dissembling. “Any man with eyes in his head can see that you are beautiful. Either you do not give yourself enough credit,” he said, “or you are afraid that another man may not measure up to your late husband.”