An Earl to Enchant (21 page)

Morgan laughed. The man was an unbelievably crafty old dandy. “Yes, and you damned well know it, so don’t play dumb with me. So what do you have to say about them?”

“Me?” He held out his hands as if showing he had nothing to hide. “I don’t have anything to say about them, except that they are fairly handsome fellows.”

Morgan shook his head and chuckled again.

“You’re not going to talk about them, are you?”

“I’ll talk about anything you want to talk about; you know that.”

“All right, let’s take this one question at a time,” Morgan said. “Did you know there were two men in London who look just like you?”

“Do you think they look like me?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them. I just arrived in Town yesterday. I’m going by what Blake and Race said.”

Gibby rose. “You can’t believe anything those two tell you.”

“Except they are not the only ones who have told me about the twins.”

“Somebody else rode all the way to Valleydale just to tell you about gossip? Hmm. Wonder who it was?”

“If you must know, it was Constance Pepperfield who also mentioned this to me.”

Gibby’s eyes narrowed. “So she’s the one who brought you back to Town early.”

“No, she isn’t. You brought me back to Town early. I want to know about these twins.”

“So would I. Let me know what you find out. Now tell me, what are you drinking? Is it too early in the afternoon for a nip of brandy? Blake brought a bottle of his favorite over to me that night after my boxing match. I guess he thought I might need it, but I didn’t.”

“Sure, brandy would go down nicely about now,” Morgan said and watched the dapper man walk over to his side table to pour a little splash into two glasses.

Morgan settled back in the chair and made himself comfortable. He knew he’d gotten all he was going to get out of Gibby.

For now.

Sixteen

My Grandson Lucas,

You should never be without a book of Lord Chesterfield’s letters. If by some chance you have misplaced yours, let me know and I’ll send you another. These words from him should be set to memory. “In the evenings, I recommend to you the company of women of fashion, who have a right to attention, and will be paid it. Their company will smooth your manners, and give you a habit of attention and respect, of which you will find the advantage among men.”

Your loving Grandmother,

Lady Elder

Arianna sat in the music room of her new house and looked at the vast quantity of books, journals, and papers in front of her. This room had the least amount of furniture in the house, so she had chosen it for her work room.

After her disappointing meeting with Mr. Warburton a couple of days ago, she’d had the servants move everything out except the pianoforte, which was pushed against the far wall, when she learned that Mrs. Hartford had learned to play the instrument. Arianna enjoyed hearing her play late in the evenings when the house became quiet and before she and the servants retired for the night.

Arianna had a long rectangular table—which was now littered with her father’s life’s work—and a comfortable chair brought in and set up for her. She knew that somewhere among his writings he had listed the basic ingredients that formulated the medicine he’d created, which he said would cure consumption. He had tested it on several people, and all of them had overcome the illness and were completely well after having several days of treatment with the mixture.

Her father had told her it was written in the journal that he always kept with him, the one that Rajaratnum had stolen, but her father had also told her that if for some reason his journal was lost or destroyed at sea by water damage, or some other mishap, he had it written down elsewhere. He didn’t tell her where. At the time, she had no reason to believe she would ever need to know.

She had worked with him enough to know that a lot of medicines and remedies used many of the same compounds and ingredients. It was her hope that if she couldn’t find the complete formula, she could find the correct notes, and given time, reconstruct the formula. If Mr. Warburton had agreed to help her, it would have been far faster and easier to distinguish formulas for consumption as opposed to ones that might be for gout or some other ailment.

Arianna looked up at the clock. It was three in the afternoon. She had been in the room since early morning, sorting her father’s notes and making her own notes. She didn’t know why she had ever agreed to go to a party with Constance tonight. Maybe it was because she already had her modiste making a gown for her. The French dressmaker had wanted Arianna to come back for two more fittings, but thankfully, Arianna had insisted she couldn’t possibly do that. Mrs. Hartford had told her the dress had been delivered earlier in the day, and it had been laid out on her bed.

“Why didn’t I simply say, ‘I can’t go’?” Arianna mumbled to herself.

Because Constance had been extremely kind and very helpful, Arianna owed it to her to go and to do her best to have an enjoyable time. The good thing was that Constance easily agreed that she should not go to another party in the near future. She said something about it adding an air of mystery to her.

What nonsense!

Arianna smiled and rested her elbow on the table, placing her chin in the palm of her hand. She was tired. Her eyes were tired, but she must keep reading, every page of every journal, every loose sheet of vellum and foolscap that she had found in every barrel. She pushed thoughts of the party from her mind and returned to reading the long laborious notes and jotting down anything that looked like it might be part of a formula.

Arianna was so deep in thought, when Mrs. Hartford spoke to her from the doorway, she jumped.

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Sweet. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Hartford. It wasn’t your fault. What can I do for you?”

“The Earl of Morgandale is here to see you.”

Arianna gasped. Her throat immediately went dry, and her heart started hammering. “Here in my home?”

The woman gave her a nod. “I showed him into the drawing room.”

He had come.

“Good. Thank you, Mrs. Hartford. Tell him I’ll be right in to see him.”

As soon as I catch my breath! As soon as I straighten my hair!

Had he come all the way from Valleydale just to see her, or had something else brought him to London? It hardly mattered. He had come to see her now. She felt like shouting with joy, but instead she pinched her cheeks and bit her lips to give them color. She pushed stray strands of hair behind her ear and looked down at her dress. She had ink stains on her apron, so she quickly took it off, showing her soft pink morning dress that was banded with light green ribbon around the sleeves, neckline, and waist.

She lowered her arms to her side and sucked in three long, deep breaths. She wouldn’t allow herself to speculate about why he had come. She would simply go in and find out, as soon as she managed to settle the rapid beat of her heart, catch her gasping breath, and steady her shaking legs.

After what happened between them on the coast the last night she was at Valleydale, she didn’t know if he’d ever want to see her again. He’d made his point about their relationship very clear to her.

A couple of minutes later, as calmly as she could, Arianna walked to the doorway of the drawing room and saw Morgan standing by the window. As if sensing she was there, he turned and stared at her so intently it made her heart rate jump right back up to a maddening level. He filled out his clothes better than any man she had ever seen. His black coat, white shirt, and camel-colored waistcoat fit him the way well-made gloves fit a man’s hand. His neckcloth was perfectly yet casually tied, and his hair fell long at his nape, giving him that roguishly handsome appeal.

As Arianna stared at him, she felt weightless and exhilarated and knew more than ever before that she had fallen victim to his charm. No, more than that, it was as she had suspected before—she had fallen in love with him.

“Lord Morgandale,” she said, her voice sounding more composed and more confident than she felt as she stepped inside the room and curtseyed. “This is a surprise.”

“A pleasant one, I hope,” he said, sauntering toward her with a self-assured expression that let her know he knew exactly how pleased she was to see him.

She gave him a tentative smile and walked farther into the room. “Do you even have to ask that?”

“I would never take how you feel about seeing me for granted. I had to come to London to check on an old friend, and while I was out and about today, I thought I should stop by and visit you, too.”

So much for thinking she might be the reason for his presence in Town.

“I trust it’s nothing serious with your old friend.”

A wrinkle of concern formed between his eyes. “Unfortunately, that remains to be seen.” He extended something toward her that looked like a book that had been banded with a wide blue ribbon tied in a bow. “Since I was coming by, I thought you might like this.”

She noticed his hand as he gave her the book. He had strong, manly, and attractive hands.

Arianna cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she said, taking the book. She untied the bow and read aloud the bold black lettering. “Lord Chesterfield’s Letters to His Son and to Other Notables.” A glow of unexpected pleasure covered her. She looked up at him and smiled. “The man you often spoke about. So he actually wrote letters that were published?”

Morgan’s gaze locked on hers curiously, and he asked, “Did you doubt me about the man’s existence?”

She moistened her lips and looked down at the book. Heat flooded her cheeks. “Yes, I believe I did.”

Morgan chuckled, obviously amused by her honesty. “Then I’m doubly glad I took the time to pick up the book for you to prove Lord Chesterfield was not made up from my imagination. He was a living, breathing man who was quite vain and so full of himself that many now herald his letters as required reading.”

“I shall never doubt you again.”

His eyes narrowed with humor. “And I doubt that, Arianna. You said you would like to read the letters for yourself and form your own opinion of the man. I’ll look forward to hearing what you have to say about him after you’ve read his letters.”

Was he telling her he wanted to see her again, or was he merely indicating that she should send him a post? “I will get started on it tonight,” she said softly, placing the book and ribbon on the small rosewood table behind her. “Thank you. It was kind of you to remember me.”

“I will always remember you, Arianna.”

A gentle expression softened his gaze and his smile. Arianna had an overwhelming urge to rush into his arms and bury her nose in the warmth of his neck and tell him how much she had missed him. Somehow, she managed to hold herself in check.

“It looks like you are settled into your new home. How do you like it?”

“It’s perfect for me,” she said softly.

“Good. You look tired.”

“No,” she said defensively, her hands automatically going to smooth her hair. “I feel in very good health. I’ve just been very busy since I arrived.”

“I can see that. You have ink on your fingers and on your cheek.”

“Oh!” She looked down at her hands and quickly raised one hand to rub first on one cheek and then the other with the back of her palm.

Morgan chuckled softly. He took hold of her wrist and slowly lowered her hand down to her side. Her skin prickled with anticipation at his comforting touch.

He stepped closer to her and said, “Allow me.” He stuck the pad of his thumb to his tongue, moistened it, and then lightly rubbed her cheek near the corner of her mouth.

The dampness of his thumb, the gentleness of his strokes, and pressure of movements caused a tightening in Arianna’s chest that skittered along her breasts. She wanted to grab hold of his hand, place it over her face, and inhale the scent of his palm. She wanted to drown in his warmth and drink in the heavenly smell of shaving soap that lingered on his skin.

“There, that looks better,” he said, letting his arm drop to his side.

She lowered her lashes and looked down at her ink-stained fingers. “I’m sorry, my lord. It seems as if you are always catching me when I am not properly attired and ready for guests.”

He lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers. She raised her lashes and looked directly into his cool blue eyes. “I don’t see that as anything to apologize for. I rather like the fact that I never know if you will be wearing a sari, a dancing costume, or ink.”

They chuckled lightly together for a moment. His gaze swept down her face, and her gaze lingered on his eyes. As their laughter died down, Arianna once again had such a great desire to hug him and tell him that she had missed him terribly, but she held that inside and said, “How long will you be in London?”

The merriment faded from his face, and a wrinkle formed between his eyes. “I’m not sure, but I suspect it will keep me here at least until my cousins return.”

“And how long will that be?”

“Probably a month or two.”

“I see. Tell me, how is Master Brute?”

“Mastered,” Morgan said, the smile returning to his face. “He was a difficult horse to break.”

Like his master.

“I took a scraping of sugar to him the day before I left Valleydale with Constance, and I found him quite docile even then.”

“You definitely had an influence on him.”

“Well,” she said shyly and then suddenly said, “Forgive me for not asking you to sit down or offering you refreshment. I don’t know what happened to my manners.”

He grinned. “Yes, you do. You were so thrilled to see me that you forgot them.”

At first she tensed, thinking he had read her thoughts, but quickly realized he was teasing her. And she loved it.

She gave him a knowing smile. “You are exactly right. So now why don’t you tell me the real reason you came to see me today.”

“So, you know the book on Chesterfield was a ruse. I came for this,” he said. His hand cupped her neck, his fingers sliding around to grasp her nape. His thumb caressed the soft lobe of her ear, and his face moved closer and closer to hers. Her heart fluttered; her stomach quickened. She had longed to be this close to him once again. She had dreamed he would come to her again.