What a Wicked Earl Wants (20 page)

When the season ended, she and Bellingham would go their separate ways. She knew it would be hard, but she would always remember him.

A footman brought a tray with the mail. “Thank you,” Laura said.

She opened the invitations and was delighted to see that Mrs. Woodley, the secretary of the Society to Benefit the Orphans, had accepted her offer to host the meeting. The other four invitations were for balls. She smiled. Perhaps she would make friends in London after all.

Feeling buoyant, she opened a letter. It was from Rachel. Laura smiled as she read about the problem of Mr. Hunmaker’s snoring in church. Apparently, he had interrupted Papa’s sermon to the point that no one could hear. Mrs. Landon had solved the problem by rapping her parasol on Mr. Hunmaker’s prodigious nose.

Smiling, Laura turned the page around in order to read the crossed portion of the letter. Her smile faded as she read Rachel’s warning.

Laura inhaled sharply. She retrieved her lap desk and drew out paper, pen, and ink. She was so rattled she blotted the first page and had to start another. With a deep breath, she told herself to slow down and be calm. She would tell her family only as much as she thought they needed to know.

Her conscience roared at her as she reviewed the letter she had written. She had omitted the sham engagement, and of course, she would never tell her family that she had kissed the earl more than once.

Laura told herself that it would be impossible to explain every circumstance in a letter. It would only cause her family needless concern. When she returned home, she would confess everything to Rachel in private and ask her to forgive her for withholding so much information. By then, all the problems would be resolved, and she would be left with the memories of a man who had gone out of his way to help her son.

She sealed the letter, accepted the invitations, and rang for a footman. A few minutes later, Reed appeared. “My lady, Lord Pembroke has come to call.”

Laura did not want to see him, and she most certainly did not want to encourage him. “Please inform him that I am not at home.”

Reed nodded, took her letters, and quit the drawing room.

Laura returned to her embroidery, but voices on the stairs interrupted her.

“My lord, her ladyship is not receiving.”

“I must see her immediately,” Pembroke said.

Laura groaned. If only the draperies were longer, she might hide behind them. She tucked the embroidery back in the basket and rose.

The door flew open and Pembroke marched inside like a rooster. “I will not take no for an answer.”

Reed stood behind him with a harried expression.

“My lord, you are welcome to cool your heels in my drawing room. Good day.”

When she took a step, Pembroke grabbed her hand and knelt on one knee. “My lady, allow me to express my ardent—”

“No, I will not allow it,” she said, yanking her hand away. “My answer would only create ill feelings. Please abide by the proprieties and leave me in peace.”

“But I can no longer contain my admiration and tender feelings for you.”

She suspected his tender feelings were the work of a fervid imagination. “My lord, I do not wish to be the cause of any wounds, but I highly recommend you do not utter words that will embarrass both of us.”

“I thought you understood how I feel,” he said.

She sighed. “Please stand.” When he did, she said, “You are a very nice man, but you must find someone who will return your, er, ardent feelings.”

“I feared it was thus,” Pembroke said. “You are married to the grave.”

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose that is correct.” She saw the disappointment on his face and sought to make him feel better. “You deserve a woman who will appreciate your enthusiasm, and most of all, you deserve someone who will share your interests and love you heart and soul.” She smiled. “Let me know when you find her.”

He sighed. “I worried your answer would not be in the affirmative and thought I would be in lowered spirits, but you have managed to reject me in the kindest way possible.”

Obviously he had expected her refusal. “I hope so, Lord Pembroke.”

“Are you certain you won’t change your mind?” he asked.

She laughed at his persistence. “I’m certain. Thank you for the great honor. Now bestow it on someone you know will be thrilled to accept.”

L
aura returned home after a day of shopping with Lady Atherton and invited her to join her for tea. As the servants carried her numerous purchases upstairs, she smiled at her friend. “I fear I’m too free with my spending,” she said.

“Nonsense,” Lady Atherton said as they climbed the stairs. “What good is money if you don’t buy things that make you happy?”

They stepped inside the drawing room, and Laura produced a stool for Lady Atherton.

“Thank you, dear. I fear my feet complain when I use them too much.”

Laura laughed and rang the bell. After instructing the maid to bring the tea tray, she sat on the other side of the sofa. “I excuse my shopping habits by making most of the purchases for my family.”

“I’m sure they appreciate your gifts,” she said.

“Before I married Phillip, I was relegated to looking in shop windows and dreaming of buying all the pretty shawls and hats I saw. So now I do not have a great deal of self-control. It is probably a good thing that all the pretty temptations in London are not very close to home.”

When Lady Atherton set her feet on the carpet, she turned to view Laura and inadvertently upset the sewing basket on the floor. “Oh, dear, I’ve made a mess.”

“It’s quite all right,” Laura said, starting to rise. “I’ve overturned it more than once. I always forget to push it out of the way.”

“Stay where you are. I’m not an invalid,” she said, putting items back inside. When she picked up the handkerchief, she regarded Laura with raised brows. “Andrew? As in Carrington, the Earl of Bellingham?”

Laura winced. “He has been so good to Justin. I honestly do not know what I would have done without his help. I wanted to make a gift for him, but I should not have used his given name. It was silly of me.” Her face heated. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“My dear, I wondered if you had developed tender feelings for him.”

“Only as a friend,” she said. Why had she left the handkerchief out in plain sight? What if he had seen it the other day? The humiliation would have been too much to bear.

“You can be honest with me. Anything you say will go no farther.” Lady Atherton paused and added, “Sometimes it helps to discuss these things with a friend. I’m guessing you’re confused.”

“No, I’m not confused,” she said. “I’ve just fantasized like a silly schoolgirl, that’s all.”

The maid arrived with the tea tray, and Laura was glad for the interruption. She hoped to turn the conversation in a new direction. As she poured the tea, Laura said, “I’m looking forward to my first meeting of the charitable society for the orphans. I admit I was a bit disappointed that we would not actually visit the orphans, but I suppose that isn’t acceptable.”

“No lady should venture into that part of town,” Lady Atherton said, accepting a cup. “Now, you have turned the conversation, but I wish to circle back.”

“So much for my attempts to divert you.”

Lady Atherton set her cup aside. “The night of my ball, I saw the way Bellingham looked at you.”

“Yes, and you warned me not to become one of his conquests.”

“Allow me to continue,” Lady Atherton said. “Later that evening, he insisted upon personally returning that flask. I knew then that he had conceived a partiality for you.”

“We had not even spoken,” Laura said.

“My dear, men are visual creatures. He was mesmerized at first glance.”

“He soon was caught up in my problems with Montclief. I was desperate and said we were engaged. He was too much of a gentleman to deny my claim.”

Lady Atherton snorted. “I know Bellingham. He would not have supported you unless he had some expectation of being rewarded.”

Laura tried to control her reaction, but her face heated.

Lady Atherton studied her. “What did he demand in recompense?”

“He made no demands,” she said.

“Then you must have promised him something,” Lady Atherton said.

“You are as relentless as he is,” she said. “If you must know, I told him I would do anything if he did not expose me.”

“Dear God, tell me you didn’t go to bed with him.”

“Of course I didn’t!” she cried.

Lady Atherton pressed her hand to her heart. “Thank goodness. No man will buy the cow if he can get the milk for free.”

Laura burst out laughing. “I assure you he is not interested in buying the cow.”

“Did he kiss you?” Lady Atherton said.

“I refuse to answer that question. In any case, I would never kiss and tell,” she said.

“You just answered my question,” Lady Atherton said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“If you had not kissed, you would have said so.”

“We have formed a friendship. He intimated to Montclief—or rather I did—that he would provide guidance to Justin. He is a gentleman and has kept his word. I’ve had trouble with Justin, and Bellingham has been of great assistance.”

“It’s a convenient arrangement,” Lady Atherton said. “Before you become defensive again, hear me out.”

“Very well.”

“I have no doubt that he is good with the boy.”

Laura frowned. “To be honest, I think the way he handles Justin is remarkable. More than once I’ve suspected his methods were learned at his father’s side.”

“I’m not surprised. He had an excellent father and a loving mother. She drew pictures of her boys and displayed them.” She sighed. “Bellingham was away at university when the three of them succumbed to consumption. The doctors warned him to stay away since he was the heir. Near the end, he rushed home, or so I’ve been told, but he was too late.”

Laura covered her mouth.

“I think his interest in guiding your son is a very good sign,” Lady Atherton said. “Perhaps there is hope for him to heal.”

Laura sipped her tea, remembering his words while they waltzed.
My mother.

After all these years, he’d probably learned to cope with the grief by going on with life, the way everyone did. She could understand. When Phillip died, she’d gone through the motions, but her son’s needs had given her purpose. Concentrating on Justin had helped her to get through the worst part. But Bellingham had been young and had no time to prepare. She’d been fortunate to have those four extra years with her husband, but she’d hated seeing him suffer. No matter how death came, it was always a shock.

Lady Atherton finished her tea. “Did you receive an invitation to the Bonhams’ ball? It is in a fortnight.”

“Yes, I was very surprised, since we’ve not met. Did you suggest they send an invitation to me?”

“Of course I did. Will you accompany me?”

“I would be delighted,” she said.

Lady Atherton smiled. “Perhaps a certain earl will be there.”

“The handkerchief was a mistake—just a passing fancy. I am done with spinning fantasies in my head.”

Five days later

Laura looked out the window once again. She’d told herself that he must be busy. He was a prominent politician, after all, and had many duties with his properties. But another voice, one deep inside, answered that he’d always made time for them before. She shouldn’t assume the worst. He’d always kept his word in the past. Tomorrow was Justin’s fencing day. Bell would call for him at ten o’clock as he’d always done before.

Her silly worries were for nothing. She returned to the sofa and continued embroidering the handkerchief for him. For reasons she didn’t understand, she felt compelled to finish it, even though she didn’t have the courage to give it to him.

A tap sounded at the door. Laura’s heart leaped. She rose and shook out her skirts, expecting Bell to walk inside and say as he always did that he’d told Reed not to bother, since Bell knew his way upstairs. “Come in,” Laura said.

Reed entered and brought her a letter.

“Thank you,” she said, trying to mask her disappointment. She must be patient. He would call soon. Something had come up. Perhaps he was gathering information about Montclief and wanted to ensure everything was correct before calling to give her the latest news.

She perched on the sofa and set the handkerchief aside. After breaking the seal, she opened a short missive. She surveyed the page and saw his signature. Then she read the note.

The missive was so impersonal that it shocked her. She told herself that his use of her title was probably a customary formality for him. Perhaps he was terse because of his obligations. Perhaps he was mired in a difficult problem. Perhaps he’d gotten news about Montclief and wished to have all the facts in order before calling upon her.

She was making excuses for him as she had done all week. There was no justification for that detached sentiment in his note. Even if he was very busy, he could have apologized in advance for having to sign off so quickly. But he’d done none of that.

He’d made arrangements for her son, and yet, he’d not included even one truly personal comment for her. This was not a note from one friend to another. This was a note that insinuated he’d tired of her and wished to spend his time elsewhere.

Pain wrenched her heart. Her eyes welled, and she swiped at the tears. Part of her still wanted to believe that she was wrong, that he would have a good explanation and apologize for the brevity of the note. But she couldn’t fool herself. That letter was curt.

He’d probably found a woman who would give him what he wanted. What had she expected of a notorious rake? He’d shown his true colors with that note. She took a deep breath. It was her own fault. She’d been warned in advance that he was a cold man, but he’d seemed so different. He’d helped her, and now she could almost feel him pushing her away.

She had no idea why he’d done this, but she knew one thing. If he were really her friend, he would not treat her in this distant manner. She told herself she didn’t care. Why should she when he clearly did not have enough regard for her to speak to her face-to-face and explain his callous actions?

How dare he treat her in this cold manner? She’d thought he cared about her and Justin. He’d waltzed with her and made her feel special. And now he’d made it clear he wanted nothing more to do with them.

She marched over to the fire and threw the note on the hot coals. She’d let him into her heart, and in a few short words, he’d crushed her. He could go hang for all she cared. If she saw him again, she would give him the cut direct.

Her face crumpled. She didn’t want to cry over him, but the tears came anyway.

One week later

Bell strolled into White’s and hailed Harry and Colin. When he reached their usual table, he took his chair and said, “Miss me?”

Harry snorted. “Like a bad egg.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Colin said.

“I think he just said I stink,” Bell said.

“You’ve been busy,” Harry said.

“I’ve been mired in letters, invitations, and banker meetings.” Bell didn’t tell them that he’d put distance between himself and Laura. He’d gotten too caught up in her life. Justin needed a male role model, but he needed a permanent one. All Bell could offer was a few fencing and billiards lessons. He ought to have foreseen the consequences, but somehow in the midst of one crisis after another, he’d lost sight of what was transpiring beneath his nose. In retrospect, he ought to have encouraged Laura to take her son home to Hampshire. He wondered why he hadn’t thought of it, but he knew the reason. The same one that had led him to get involved in her life.

He was attracted to her, but there was something else. She was his friend. He liked her—more than a little. And he thought about her far more than he ought. He’d realized he was in a little too deep. In truth, he’d become a bit obsessed with her. No good could come from that.

“So how is Lady Chesfield?” Colin asked.

Bell shrugged. “I don’t know.”

His friends exchanged glances.

“You haven’t called on her?” Harry asked.

“I’ve been busy.”

Colin leaned forward. “So you’re giving her the brush-off?”

Bell released a loud sigh. “She’s the prim-and-proper sort. I’m not. It’s time to take a step back. ”

“She’s the kind who wants forever,” Harry said.

Laura had said she didn’t want to remarry, but he’d seen the look on her face when he’d picked up that infant gown, and that had checked him. “It’s better to cut the ties now,” Bell said. He’d continue with Justin’s fencing lessons until the end of the season and let Laura know any news of the investigation.

Colin circled his finger along the rim of his glass. “I like her.”

“Me too,” Harry said.

“It’s best to ease out of the picture before she gets attached,” Bell said.

“I think you’re a bit late for that,” Colin said.

Bell swigged his brandy. It burned going down, and so did the knowledge that he had probably wounded her. He’d never intended to get so deeply involved in her life, but they were too different. She needed things that he couldn’t give her: a ring, a promise, and a family.

Twice she’d managed to get him to answer questions about his mother and father. She didn’t try to prod him the way others had done, but he’d sensed she wanted to know more.

Laura was a caretaker, a role she’d assumed as a child while helping her mother. He knew she’d genuinely loved her late husband, but she’d chosen a man who was elderly and sick—and who had a motherless son as well. She needed to be needed.

He suspected that Laura wanted to fix him. Knowing her, she probably thought she could heal him with tenderness and love. She didn’t understand that some things were broken beyond repair, and other things were better off forgotten and relegated to a dusty attic, both literally and figuratively.

“I heard Pembroke proposed to her,” Harry said.

Bell jerked his chin up. “What?”

“My girl cousins told me,” Harry said.

“I heard it, too,” Colin said.

“She didn’t accept Pembroke,” he said.