What a Wicked Earl Wants (21 page)

“How do you know?” Colin said. “Maybe she likes Baldy.”

“She can’t accept him—or rather she wouldn’t.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“She’s secretly engaged to me.”

His friends burst out laughing.

“You mean the faux engagement,” Colin said, still laughing.

Harry slapped the table. “I still can’t believe that one. What a lark.”

“Will you lower your voices? I don’t want anyone to know.”

Colin snorted. “No one would believe it.”

“Stubble it,” Bell grumbled. “We agreed to be friends, but I got the idea she wanted more.”

“More what?” Colin said.

“I think she wants something permanent.”

“You mean marriage,” Harry said.

“I’m a lifelong bachelor—not the sort of man she needs.”

“Right,” Harry said. “You don’t want her, so why should you care who calls on her?”

“Wait a minute,” Bell said. “Are you saying other men are calling on her?”

“Actually, they called at Lady Atherton’s,” Harry said. “My mother said it was like a parade. All the gents want to meet her.”

“Devil take it,” Bell said. “The same thing happened at the ball. She insists upon being independent, but she has no idea what those men are thinking.”

“About what?” Harry said.

“You know what,” Bell said. “They think a widow is fair game.”

Harry shrugged. “Isn’t that what you thought?”

Every muscle in Bell’s body tightened. “I have to call on her. Now.”

Colin pulled out his watch. “It’s nearly midnight. Not a good idea.”

“Call on her tomorrow,” Harry said.

“Damnation,” he said. He removed a gold case and offered his friends a cheroot. Bell lit his with the candle. He thought it would make him calmer, but it didn’t.

“A piece of advice,” Colin said. “Don’t go charging into her drawing room like a bull.”

“I will clear the room,” he growled.

Harry blew a smoke ring. “Wait a minute. I thought you planned to ease out of the picture.”

“I can’t now,” he said. “She needs protection from those horny devils.” Except she didn’t need his protection. She’d made it clear that she could fend for herself. Blast it all. She’d been taking care of herself nearly all her life. She didn’t need him. Why wasn’t he rejoicing?

“Right,” Harry said. “How will you get rid of the horny devils?”

“I’ll throw them downstairs.”

“Not a good idea,” Colin said. “She will feel sorry for them and blame you.”

“Bloody hell. She will be angry because I haven’t called on her.”

“Probably,” Harry said. “You need a plan.”

“Tell her the truth but embellish it,” Colin said.

“How?” Bell said.

“Explain about the letters and bankers and parliament. Then tell her you thought about her the entire time.”

“Good idea,” Harry said.

“Bring flowers, too,” Colin said. “Try to look abashed.”

He pulled a face. “I am not an actor.”

Harry stubbed out his cheroot. “Tell her you’re sorry.”

Bell stiffened. “No.”

“You have to if you want to get back in her good graces,” Colin said.

Harry nodded. “Women like it when you admit you’re in the wrong. She will feel sorry for you.”

“I don’t want her to feel sorry for me,” he said.

“Yes, you do,” Colin said. “She will forget her anger when she sees you looking miserable.”

“I think you are giving me bad advice,” Bell said.

Colin leaned back in his chair and blew a smoke ring. “Tell her you’re sorry and then tell her you missed her.”

“Damnation,” Bell said. He’d gotten cold feet that day he’d seen the infant gown. Then he’d started thinking about the fact that he’d not made any efforts to find a new mistress. And how much he thought about Laura. Often he’d find himself grinning as he remembered something she’d said or the way she would light up like a dozen candles when she smiled. And every night in bed, he would imagine what it would be like to make slow love to her.

Then he’d seen that tiny infant gown for her sister, and his long-dormant conscience had roared at him, because he could never give her what she deserved. And she would never understand that he could never go back to the young man he’d been and that there would never be any resolution for him.

The next afternoon

Bell was furious as he walked past a long line of carriages before Laura’s town house. He imagined all those men forming naked images of her in their minds. They would smile at her as they mentally threw her skirts over her head.

He had to get rid of them. Perhaps he should run into the drawing room and yell “Fire!” No, that probably wouldn’t work. The horny devils would be so besotted they would burn before leaving her side.

Reed opened the door, and Bell entered the foyer holding a bouquet of roses. He’d bought three dozen, thinking that might impress her. But he knew she was probably angry with him. He couldn’t blame her. He should have called on her. Bloody hell, he would have to say he was sorry.

“I’ll just see myself upstairs, Reed,” Bell said.

“I beg your pardon, my lord, but Lady Chesfield is unavailable to callers.”

Bell tapped his boot. “There are multiple carriages in the square. She obviously has callers. One more will make no difference.”

“My lord, I am under strict instructions not to allow callers.”

“I am not just any caller,” he said. “I am here to give her a report about her son.”

“I beg your pardon, my lord, but I have my orders. However, I will be happy to have a maid put the flowers in a vase for Lady Chesfield.”

Bell had no intention of leaving. He strode across the marble floor and ignored Reed’s pleas to stop. Thoughts of the horny devils spurred him to run up the stairs. He threw open the drawing room door and blinked.

Nine ladies smiled at him.

Laura did not smile. She rose and said, “Lord Bellingham, you surprise me yet again.”

Something warm crept up his neck. By God, he was blushing.

“You are just in time for the Society Devoted to the Care and Feeding of Orphans,” Laura said as if gritting her teeth.

“Yes, the orphans,” he said. “I wish to make a contribution.”

“Oh, that is wonderful,” one lady dressed in yellow said.

A maid entered, took the bouquet, and set it in a vase.

“Oh, how sweet,” a pregnant lady said. “He brought you roses.”

In the corner chair, Lady Atherton regarded him with an amused expression. “I am impressed that one of our premier politicians is personally taking time out of his busy schedule for the orphans.”

“Yes, the orphans are a great concern,” Bell said. “They probably need shoes.”

The pregnant lady smiled. “They need parents, too.”

“Right,” Bell said. “I’m a bachelor, so I’m unqualified.”

One lady dressed in pink made a notation with a pencil in a little book. “My lord, how much are you willing to contribute?”

“How much do you need?” Bell asked.

“Oh, what a wonderful gentleman you are,” the pregnant lady said. “Can we count on you for at least fifty pounds?”

Laura narrowed her eyes. “He is very wealthy and very generous, are you not, Lord Bellingham?”

“I am now,” he said. Then he decided to impress her. “Put me down for one thousand pounds.”

All the ladies, save Laura, clapped their hands. They continued to chatter about his timely entrance and generosity. When he saw Laura’s lips thin, he realized his bribe had not worked.

He was doomed to make an apology.

The lady with the pencil moved that the meeting should end. Lady Atherton seconded the motion. He bowed as the ladies filed out.

Lady Atherton was the last to depart. She halted before him. “A piece of advice,” she said. “Grovel.”

He had not groveled since the day his father caught him kissing the local tavern wench.

After Lady Atherton left, Bell closed the door, put his hands behind his back, and walked over to her. “You have every right to be angry with me.”

“You promised to give my son fencing lessons. Instead, you delegated the task to someone else. You said he needed a role model and you felt honor bound to take on that role.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“You expect me to forgive you when you have given no explanation?” Her eyes welled, but she blinked back the threatening tears. “He is my son, and you of all people know how much he means to me.”

“It was stupid and selfish of me,” he said.

“That is your explanation?” she said.

It had started to feel like a family.

“I have not always agreed with you,” she said, “but I admired and respected you until you sent that curt note.”

His head came up. No one had ever questioned his honor.

“I was getting deeper and deeper into your lives,” he said. “I took on responsibility for your son, and I realized I had encouraged him to become attached.”

“You were a good influence on him,” she said.

“But it is temporary. I realized that he was bound to be disappointed, because you and I will go our separate ways at the end of the season.”

“This is not just about Justin,” she said.

“I know. You cannot give me what I want, and I cannot give you what you need.”

“You make it sound so simple, but it is not,” she said.

“Please sit with me,” he said quietly.

She joined him on the sofa, and he clasped her hand. “From the day Montclief threatened you, I somehow found myself playing the part of Sir Lancelot. I have never taken on an obligation like this before. I didn’t anticipate the consequences.”

She withdrew her hand. “Perhaps it would be better if we severed our friendship now. I will invent an explanation to Justin.”

“Laura, I made a mistake. I will not fail him,” he said. “My honor demands that I fulfill my obligations to your son.”

“I don’t give a damn about your honor.” She raised her small fist to her heart. “Justin is not an obligation. He is my son.”

He took her by the shoulders. “That is not what I meant. I do care about the boy or I would never have taken the time to help. I made a mistake, and I owned up to it. Now I humbly ask you to forgive me.”

There was a suspicious sheen in her eyes. “You wounded me.”

“I know.” He put his arms around her and held her tightly.

A few minutes later, she lifted her head. “I made your coat damp.”

“It will dry,” he said, handing her a handkerchief.

After she blotted her eyes, he remembered something. “Oh, hell.”

She elbowed him. “Watch your language.”

“I forgot something.” He slid to the floor on his knees.”

She looked alarmed. “Oh, no, please don’t say the words.”

“Lady Atherton told me to grovel. I’m groveling.”

She released her breath. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought…well, never mind.”

He pointed. “Both knees. I didn’t want there to be a misunderstanding.”

“Get up now,” she said. “You look ridiculous.”

They both stood. “Can we be friends?” he said.

She smiled a little. “I suppose that’s allowed between secret faux fiancés.”

“I heard you turned down Pembroke.”

“He’s a very nice man. I believe he anticipated my answer.”

“He has a bald spot,” Bell said.

She patted his arm. “Don’t be jealous. You’ll probably acquire one someday.”

Bell looked at his boots. “Will you attend the Bonhams’ ball?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I would be honored to escort you and Lady Atherton if you will consent.”

“I will ask her, but I’m sure she will accept,” Laura said. “I think she likes you.”

“I think she has a strong opinion of me, not all of it favorable.”

“Probably justified,” Laura said, “but you have a few good qualities.”

He grinned. “Such as?”

“I think you know.” She lifted up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

“Your aim needs work,” he said, grinning.

She wagged her finger. “You are not a real fiancé. No more kisses on the mouth.”

He bowed and as he quit the drawing room, his chest no longer felt tight. Because she’d forgiven him.

B
ellingham had insisted upon taking Laura and Lady Atherton in his carriage to the ball. He tried to offer his arm to Lady Atherton, but she insisted he escort Laura. As they climbed the stairs, Laura was all too aware of the bulging muscle in his arm. She was a bit afraid of her feelings for him, but her mother had long ago counseled her to be wary of having a long memory. He was her friend, and he’d admitted he’d been wrong. She would let go of any lingering doubts about him.

Justin had attended Vauxhall tonight with Sarah, Paul, and some of his new friends. Lady Norcliffe and a few of her friends had agreed to chaperone the young people tonight. She was glad that Justin had remained friends with Paul. Obviously George had been the ringleader, probably because he owned that fancy curricle.

Laura smiled at Bellingham as they entered the receiving line. Lady Atherton was ahead of them in the queue. After they finally emerged into the ballroom, she saw Lady Atherton waiting. When they reached her, she had a crafty smile on her face.

“I am going to the chairs by the wall to gossip,” she said. “It is the best part of a ball. I will leave you in the care of Bellingham.”

“But I should mingle,” Laura said.

“You will mingle with me,” he said.

Lady Atherton laughed and walked away.

“Would you care for punch?” he asked.

“Yes, that would be nice.”

He led her along the perimeter of the room.

“People are staring because I am walking with a notorious rake,” she said.

“They are staring because I am with the most beautiful woman in the ballroom.”

“There are many beautiful women here, I’m sure,” she said.

“Every man in this ballroom envies me because you are mine.”

“I am not a possession.”

He gave her a sultry look. “You are mine tonight.”

Was that her heart twirling in her chest? She told herself to be sensible. Honeyed compliments rolled off his tongue. They were friends, nothing more.

When they reached the refreshment table, Laura looked about her. The cacophony of voices grew louder.

Lady Bonham rushed over to the table. “Do not drink the punch,” she said. “I heard that Harry poured half a bottle of rum into it.”

Bell tasted it. “No, it is tepid.”

Lady Bonham clapped her hand to her chest. “Oh, thank goodness. If you see Harry, tell him I will take a switch to him if he pours spirits in the punch.”

Bell raised his brows. “That would be akin to waving a red flag at a bull.” He handed a cup to Laura and she looked out at the crowd. “Harry and Colin are coming this way.

“I will tell Harry you poured rum in the punch,” he said.

She waved at Bell’s friends. “He will be so disappointed.”

“Do not worry,” he said. “My friends will not ogle you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I claimed you.”

She turned on him. “What did you say?”

“I beg your pardon. It is the blood of my marauding ancestors talking.”

“Are you feverish or do you really hear voices?”

He leaned closer to her. “I like to hear your voice.”

She drew in her breath. He knew exactly what to say to make her a little breathless.

“There you are,” Harry said. “How is the punch?”

“Lady Chesfield poured rum in it,” Bell said.

“Ah, she is a vixen,” Colin said.

Laura let out an exasperated sigh. “I did not pour spirits in the punch.”

Lady Atherton brought Lord Lindmoore to Laura. “Lord Lindmoore insists he will be up in the boughs if you do not dance with him.”

His eyes kept dipping from Laura’s face to her bosom, making her skin crawl.

“May I have the honor of the next dance?” Lord Lindmoore said.

“No, I have already claimed it,” Bellingham said.

Oh, dear, he was being possessive tonight.

“Well, perhaps the next one,” Lindmoore said.

Harry’s eyes gleamed. “I have claimed the second dance.”

Lindmoore regarded Bell with suspicion. “Then I will wait for the third set.”

“Sorry,” Colin said. “I have already spoken for that one.”

“That is perfectly fine,” Lord Lindmoore said. “I will gladly waltz with Lady Chesfield.”

Laura thought Lindmoore had a mean expression. She did not want to dance with him. “I am sorry to disappoint you, Lord Lindmoore, but I promised the waltz to Lord Bellingham.”

“And the midnight supper,” Bell said.

Lady Atherton addressed Lindmoore. “You cannot say I didn’t warn you.”

Lindmoore sniffed. “Good evening, Lady Chesfield, Lady Atherton.”

After he left, Laura turned to Lady Atherton. “What warning did you give him?”

She unfurled her fan. “I told him Bellingham wouldn’t let him within a foot of you. Enjoy your dances,” she said, and walked away.

“I think this is a conspiracy,” Laura said.

The musicians struck up the opening bars of the first country dance.

Colin’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve been dreading this.”

“Why?” Laura asked. “Do you not like to dance?”

“He doesn’t like to dance with Lady Angeline,” Harry said.

“Then why ask her?” Laura said.

“I have no choice,” Colin said. “Our mothers insisted we dance.”

“They were promised to each other in the cradle,” Harry said. “Their families have been planning the wedding since their birth.”

“Colin and Angeline hate each other,” Bell said.

“Surely not,” Laura said.

“She is evil,” Colin said. “The last time I was forced to dance with her, she kicked me in the shin.”

Harry leaned closer to Laura. “Angeline has not forgiven Colin for kissing her under the mistletoe.”

“She actually wiped her mouth,” Colin said. “She is a shrew.”

Bell pointed at a beautiful, tall brunette who stood near the dance floor. “Look, her hands are fisted.”

“She will probably plant you a facer, Colin,” Harry said.

“I will trip her if she does.”

“You will do no such thing,” Laura said in an outraged voice. “I’m sure she’s a perfectly amiable young lady.”

“To everyone but Colin,” Harry said.

Colin muttered under his breath and strode toward the brunette.

Bellingham offered his arm, and as they walked toward the dance floor, Laura said, “What did Colin do to make her despise him so much?”

“I don’t know. He won’t talk about it.”

They reached the dance floor and stood across from each other. When the music started, they crossed each other to the other side. A few minutes later, they joined hands with another couple and turned in a circle and crossed back to their original places. Laura glanced at the bottom of the queue. Angeline glared at Colin as they met in the middle, turned, and started up toward the top of the queue. Bellingham winked at Laura.

Colin and Angeline took their places at the top of the queue. Angeline bared her teeth. When Colin blew her a kiss, Angeline rolled her eyes. Laura looked at Bellingham and he held his palms up.

Then it was their turn to meet in the middle. He met her gaze, and she felt breathless at the seductive expression in his eyes. He set his hand on her back as they walked up the line. She told herself not to fall under his spell, but when they turned in a circle, she could not look away. In that moment, she understood that the desire between them could flare out of control if she wasn’t careful. She had to be strong, because there was something powerful between them.

At long last, the dance ended. She took his arm, but as they strolled away, she knew that others would talk if she continued to stay by his side. “I think we should mingle—separately.”

He grinned at her. “I have never met a rule I didn’t wish to break.”

“If we spend the entire evening together, it will cause talk.”

He leaned down. “I wish we could spend the entire night together.”

She met his gaze and everything inside of her yearned to throw caution to the wind. “We are taking a risk at this moment,” she said. “I must go before we stir up gossip.” She walked away before he could say another word, because she didn’t trust herself. He was too persuasive, and he wasn’t the only one who burned.

Laura enjoyed speaking to her new friends from the charity organization. They were all friendly and genuinely concerned for the vast number of children languishing in orphanages. She was especially taken with Mrs. Faraday, who was expecting her first child in two months’ time. But she was also gratified to learn that Mrs. Whitmeyer also had an adolescent son whom she jokingly said regularly turned into a monster for no reason whatsoever. Now Laura didn’t feel quite so bad about failing her son, knowing that other mothers faced similar challenges.

Afterward, she went to the ladies’ retiring room to get away from the roar of the crowd and rest a bit. She found a chair, and one of the maids brought her a glass of sherry. Laura sipped the sherry and felt a bit restored. Her dealings with Bellingham were often intense. She thought of his words:
I wish we could spend the entire night together.

Despite everything that she believed in, she couldn’t help longing for his kisses and touches again. Sometimes in bed, she imagined what it would be like to make love with him. She wanted him desperately, but she was also afraid that she could never measure up to all of the women who knew how to please a man like him.

The door opened to the sound of feminine laughter. Lady Rentworth, George’s mother, entered along with two other women. Laura studiously avoided looking at the woman. In her previous encounter with Lady Rentworth, Laura had quickly surmised that the woman thought Laura unworthy of her regard.

Lady Rentworth’s avid gaze lit on Laura. “Well, well, if it isn’t the sweet little widow. I heard you made a conquest of Bellingham.”

“You heard incorrectly,” Laura said. “Lord Bellingham agreed to provide guidance for my son while his guardian had duties elsewhere.”

“I bet he did,” Lady Rentworth said. Her two friends laughed.

Laura set her sherry aside and rose. She started past when Lady Rentworth raised her voice. “Aren’t you the lucky one? Is it true he is a superb lover?”

“You will have to ask someone who knows.” Laura held her head high as she walked out. She could not control what others said about her, and she would not let a spiteful woman like Lady Rentworth ruin her evening.

By the time she returned to the ballroom, Laura realized she was walking against the throng of guests. She was supposed to meet Bellingham for the midnight supper, but finding him in this crowd would prove difficult, especially from her vantage point. Yet, she didn’t want to get swept along with the crowd. She pressed past the other guests. Once, someone stepped on her foot. While it smarted, she knew it was nothing serious. All she wanted was to find a chair and wait until the crowd thinned.

She managed to inch along the perimeter of the room and saw Bellingham. He pressed through the crowd and reached her. “I looked for you.”

“I went to the ladies’ retiring room to rest for a bit.”

They waited in a corner until the crowd in the ballroom emptied, save for the footmen clearing the punch bowl and glasses on the refreshment table. “Do you wish to go to the dining room?” he asked.

“No, I just want to relax and be away from all the noise,” she said.

He led her to a chair and sat beside her. “Better?”

“Yes, I’m glad I found you,” she said. Then she told him what had occurred in the retiring room.

“People will always gossip,” he said. “But I should not have pressed you again. It was selfish of me, but I want you to know that I do respect you.” He leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs. “I want you to know that it is not just desire on my part. I care about you and enjoy your friendship. Be assured that I will be available for you and Justin until the end of the season.”

He made it sound so final. “Are we to part ways forever?” she said.

He sat back. “I will return to Devonshire this summer, and you will go home to Hampshire.”

Her heart seemed to fall to her feet.

“I don’t wish to mislead you or your son.”

You already have misled us.

“Your son needs permanence. He needs to know that my involvement is only temporary.”

She gripped her hands hard. He meant her as well. But she couldn’t deny the truth of what he’d said. He’d never promised beyond the season. She knew it was unreasonable of her to expect more, because he’d always been clear that their relationship was based on friendship only. She’d accepted that, but now it stung her, because she didn’t want to lose him.

“I don’t mean to sound cold,” he said. “I’ve spent far too many seasons in London surrounded by sycophants. I’ve gotten cynical about all of it: the politics, the pretentions, and the hypocrites. You encountered it tonight.” He looked at her. “You are genuine. It’s rare in the world of the ton. I sincerely want to spend time with you and Justin. I only want to make sure that I don’t inadvertently set the wrong expectations.”

“You’ve selflessly given of your time to Justin and me,” she said in a wooden voice.

“It’s not enough, but it’s all I’m capable of giving,” he said.

“I think you are capable of far more.” Her voice had cracked. He’d tired of her and was ready to move on to a woman who would do anything he wanted in bed.

“You see only what you wish to see,” he said. “Some things are irreparable.”

She wanted to encourage him to talk about the irreparable things, but a ballroom was a poor place for a discussion of what had happened to him all those years ago when he’d lost his family. And truthfully, she didn’t want to think about the ending when she must tell him good-bye forever. If this season was all that she would ever have of him, then she must not waste it on the time that remained.

“Perhaps we should go downstairs,” he said.

“Yes, we should see how Colin and Angeline are faring.” She’d tried to infuse gaiety in her voice, but it sounded forced.

“She is probably kicking his shin under the table.”

“We do not want to miss the fun.” She didn’t let on that she felt as if a candle had guttered inside her.