What a Wicked Earl Wants (3 page)

“Thank you, Reed.”

After her butler left, Laura released a shaky breath. They had not been formally introduced, and Lady Atherton had made it clear last night that Lord Bellingham was a rake. She most certainly did not wish to make his acquaintance.

Laura walked over to the window. The day was gray and cloudy, promising rain. She fingered the gold, silken ropes and tassels that tied the draperies. The wavy glass distorted the view somewhat, but that shiny black carriage below obviously belonged to the Earl of Bellingham. Any moment now, he would emerge from her town house. All she wanted was to see the back of him retreating.

Another carriage drew up along the street. Laura surmised that it was her new friend Lady Atherton, because outside of making the acquaintance of several people last night, she knew no one else. Oh dear, Lady Atherton would likely encounter the earl as she walked to the door. The situation was terribly awkward, but Laura knew she’d done the correct thing by refusing Bellingham.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. Another tap sounded. Certain it was her butler, Laura said, “Come in.” She kept her gaze on the street below, expecting to see Lord Bellingham striding toward his vehicle any moment. After the door shut, she said, “Reed, I hope you sent the earl on his way.”

“He tried, but I’m not easily dissuaded.”

The deep male voice startled her. Laura turned around with a gasp to find the earl standing in her drawing room. She pressed her hand to her fast-beating heart. For some reason he seemed taller than last night. One thing was clear: The man was far too bold. “My lord, are you in the habit of dispensing with the proprieties?”

His mouth curved sideways in a roguish grin. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

Her butler arrived huffing and puffing. “My lady,” he said.

She glanced at Reed. “I will take care of the matter.”

Her butler hesitated, and then he quit the drawing room.

Laura returned her attention to the earl. For a moment, she found herself captivated by his handsome face and artfully disheveled dark hair. In the daylight, his thick black lashes added to the allure of his brilliant blue eyes.

When he arched his brows, Laura recollected her common sense and gave him a withering look. “I made it clear that I am not at home to callers, and yet you persisted, even though we have not been formally introduced.”

“Lady Chesfield, I am honored to make your acquaintance.” He bowed. “Bellingham, at your service.”

Her temper flared. “How did you learn my name and address?”

“I asked Lady Atherton last evening,” he said.

The news physically jolted her. Lady Atherton was her friend. “I find it difficult to believe that Lady Atherton would give out that information.”

His brows drew together in a fierce manner. “She did not wish to tell me, but I insisted.”

“Why?” she said. “We are strangers. You can have no business with me.”

He held up a flask. “Actually, my business is with your stepson.”

She tensed, and within moments, a chill ran down her spine. Oh God, had Justin stolen it? She would not voice the words, because she couldn’t make herself do it. “How do you know him?”

Lord Bellingham shrugged. “I don’t know him, but I have encountered him and his friends loitering on the streets of London more than once. I don’t think they understand the potential dangers of footpads.”

“Thank you, my lord. I will discuss the matter with Justin.”

“Are you aware that he and his friends were drinking in the garden last night?”

“I did not hear or see them.” She had smelled spirits on Justin’s breath, but the earl did not need to know that.

“After you left the garden, they returned to the house,” Bellingham continued. “I followed and saw him push this flask beneath the stairs.”

“My lord, thank you for your concern. Now, if you will give me the flask, I will speak to Justin.”

He arched his brows. “It’s brandy, very fine brandy, in case you are wondering.”

Laura glanced at the sideboard. As soon as she got rid of His Haughtiness, she would check the brandy decanter.

He regarded her with an intense expression. “I don’t make a habit of intervening in other’s affairs, but I heard him lie to you about his whereabouts at the ball. It is clear to me that he’s pulling the wool over your eyes.”

How dare he insinuate that she was too naïve to parent her own stepson? “My lord, he is my son and my responsibility. I appreciate your concern and will speak to him.”

He took a step closer. “How well is that working?”

She drew in a sharp breath. “I owe you no explanations. This is none of your affair. Now please leave.”

He looked away for a moment, and then he returned his attention to her. “Call him to the drawing room. When he realizes that I and others have marked his wayward behavior, he will think twice before lying to you again.”

She had no intention of following his orders. Justin wasn’t even at home, but she would not tell the arrogant earl that. Laura bobbed a curtsy. “Good day, Lord Bellingham,” she said in an obvious dismissal.

He set the flask on a side table. “I beg your pardon for interfering. Despite what you may think, it was meant kindly.”

She recollected Lady Atherton’s advice about him last night.
What he wants, he gets
.
Be sure it’s not you.
No, he’d definitely not intervened out of kindness.

Footsteps and voices sounded outside the drawing room. “Sir, allow me to inform her ladyship that you have come to call,” Reed said.

“I do not require an announcement and will see her now.”

Laura gasped as she recognized the voice. She snatched the flask and hid it behind one of the rolled sofa cushions.

“What the devil?” Bellingham said.

She entreated him with her eyes. “It is Montclief, Justin’s guardian. Please, say nothing of Justin to him,” she said in a low tone.

“Why?” he said. “If he is the guardian—”

“Please,” she said, aware that her voice shook. “There is no time to explain. I will do anything you ask, but I beg you not to betray me.”

He arched his brows. “Anything?”

“Yes, anything,” she said, worrying her hands.

He snared her with his blue eyes. “Be careful what you promise.”

Oh dear. Perhaps she should have qualified her response, but there was no time for that now. She must gather her scattered wits and pretend to be perfectly at ease. The notion would have been laughable, if she weren’t so desperate. Dear God, she had no idea how she would deal with that rakehell, but for now, she must focus solely on her son’s guardian. She entreated Bellingham with her eyes once more. “Please, I beg you to concur with whatever I say.”

“What will you say?”

A good question, but the door opened and Reed said, “Mr. Montclief, my lady.”

Laura clasped her hands hard. What would Montclief think when he saw her with a scoundrel in her drawing room? Somehow she must concoct a story, but her frazzled mind refused to work properly.

Montclief entered with a thunderous expression, and then he stopped short upon seeing Bellingham.

Laura curtsied and noted her brother-in-law’s hair had thinned considerably since she’d last seen him at her husband’s funeral four years ago. She took a deep breath and said, “Montclief, what a delightful surprise. I just received your letter today but had no idea you meant to visit. Obviously you wish to see for yourself that all is well in London.” Heavens, she was babbling like a fool.

Montclief narrowed his eyes. “Laura, you are clearly discomposed.” He turned toward Bellingham. “Will you not introduce me to your gentleman caller?”

Doubtless, Montclief had assumed the worst. He probably thought she’d brought Justin here on a pretext so that she could dally with her nonexistent lover. “Lord Bellingham, may I introduce Mr. Montclief? He is my stepson’s uncle and guardian.”

Montclief bowed. “My lord, of course I know your name from the papers.”

Drat. Montclief had probably seen the mention of the Earl of B—ham in the scandal sheets. Oh, this was a disaster in the making.

“That criminal conversation case before parliament must have been quite the sensation,” Montclief said.

“It was a dead bore,” Bellingham said.

Laura frowned. “Criminal conversation?”

“Pardon me. It is an indelicate subject for a lady,” Montclief said.

A devilish expression lit Bellingham’s eyes. “It is a euphemism for
adultery
.”

She rolled her eyes. “How ridiculous. Why not call a spade a spade?”

“My sentiments exactly,” Bellingham said.

No doubt he’d participated in criminal conversation on any number of occasions. “Shall we be seated? I will ring for a tea tray. You must be thirsty after your journey, Montclief.”

“I wish to see my nephew.”

“He is out,” she said. From the corner of her eye, she saw Bellingham lift his brows in a skeptical manner, but she must not lose her focus. “His friend George took him in his curricle to Gunthers for ices.” The explanation sounded innocent enough to her. In truth, Justin had slept past noon, and then George had arrived. When Laura asked where they were going, Justin had regarded her with a mulish expression and walked out the door.

“When do you expect him to return?” Montclief said, narrowing his eyes.

“I cannot say for certain. They will probably take a turn round Rotten Row at the fashionable hour,” she said. “I hope you will dine with us.” She hoped nothing of the kind, but she must be polite, even to her loathsome brother-in-law.

Montclief’s severe expression did not bode well. “We must discuss my nephew.” He turned his attention to Bellingham. “Obviously this is a family matter. I’m sure you understand.”

Laura’s stomach clenched. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with Montclief. When Bellingham opened his mouth as if to speak, Laura knew she must intervene. “Actually, Lord Bellingham has taken an interest in Justin.” Oh, heavens, Bellingham would likely deny her claim.

Montclief looked at Bellingham and let out a long sigh. “So you, too, have seen him running wild in the streets.”

Oh, no. She was about to refute the statement, but Bellingham spoke before she could. “I saw them in the garden with friends at a ball last night.”

At least he’d not given anything away—yet. “Yes, he saw Justin last evening, but there’s no need for alarm,” Laura said.

Montclief ignored her and returned his attention to Bellingham. “Was he drinking spirits?”

Laura held her breath and entreated Bellingham with her eyes once again.

Bellingham glanced at her and then shrugged. “I cannot say.”

Laura clasped her hands. “You see, it was all a misunderstanding.”

When Montclief narrowed his eyes, she knew she’d said the wrong thing. “There is no misunderstanding. I have a letter from a friend in London who saw Justin drinking from a flask on the streets. You should have contacted me about this matter. I demand an explanation.”

She must not let her composure slip. “All is well now.”

Bellingham gave her a brief, dubious look.

“Laura,” Montclief said, “all is not well. You brought my nephew to London without asking my permission and have concealed his inappropriate behavior. I cannot rely on your poor judgment.”

She itched to give him the set down he deserved, but she did not dare incur his wrath. “There is no need for alarm. I have matters under control.” She’d lied, but what else could she do?

“You are only a woman and incapable of managing a high-spirited boy,” Montclief said. “He needs the daily influence of a man.”

Desperation gripped her like talons. “You need not worry, Montclief,” she said. “Lord Bellingham is helping to turn the tide.” She held her breath, fearing Bellingham would deny her claim.

Bellingham kept his expression impassive. “Young men need to understand that it is wrong to take advantage of one’s mother.”

He’d adeptly avoided lying and had not betrayed her. She could kiss his big boots.

“I appreciate your assistance, Bellingham,” Montclief said. “However, I have already made my decision. My nephew needs more than passing male influence.” He turned to Laura. “Please see that his trunks are packed. I will take him home with me tomorrow. You may reside in the house in Hampshire until he reaches his majority.”

She couldn’t breathe. This could not be happening. He was her son. Montclief had never taken any interest in Justin—until now. Oh, God, she would not let Montclief take her son away. “No,” she said. “No, please do not take him.”

“Laura, this is not negotiable,” Montclief said.

Panic rose up in her chest. She was breathing too fast. The fear of losing Justin nearly overwhelmed her, but she must persuade Montclief to change his mind. “You have such a large brood already and are overly tasked. I have looked after Justin all these years.”
I love him too much to let you take him away.

He gave her a patronizing look and shook his head.

She pressed her nails into her palms to keep from blurting out what she really thought of Montclief’s negligence these past four years. As much as she despised him, she could not afford to antagonize her brother-in-law. “He’s already lost his father. I am his mother, and if you take him away, he will feel that I have abandoned him.”

“You are his stepmother,” Montclief corrected.

His words stung, for he’d implied that she wasn’t a real mother, but she would not allow his slight to deter her. No matter what anyone thought, Justin was her son. She would do whatever it took to keep him with her, including placating Montclief. “I believe Justin deserves another chance. I will emphasize that he must behave—”

“You’ve already proven you are incapable of it,” Montclief said. “I’ve made my decision, and that is the end of the discussion.”

After all this time, Montclief meant to exercise his rights as a guardian. The disbelief started to wear off, and then her hands trembled. She clutched them tightly, because she didn’t want Montclief to see her anguish. “He hasn’t even seen you for four years. It will be hard on him.”

Montclief puffed up. “The material point is that you cannot give my nephew the discipline and guidance that he needs.”