An Earl to Enchant (8 page)

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Authors: Amelia Grey

Tags: #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Romance - Historical, #Fiction, #Romance, #Romance: Historical, #Historical, #American Historical Fiction, #General, #Fiction - Romance, #Historical - General

BOOK: An Earl to Enchant
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Morgan remained silent while his body made war with his brain, and his gaze searched her face. There was no doubt that she was a beauty and her touch was skilled.

Miss Goodbody applied the merest of pressure to his hardness, and he stiffened. Oh, yes, he had no doubt she was very good at her job. Just her touch had him ready to make use of the settee.

“I came all this way, my lord. Surely before I go there is something I can do for you.”

If only!

Morgan didn’t know where he found the control, but he managed to say, “Your offer is tempting, but I don’t think so, Miss Goodbody.”

She smiled, obviously not ready or willing to take no for an answer. With the ease of long-practiced art, she lifted her mouth up to his ear and whispered in slow, warming breaths that fanned the flaming arc of his desire, “I promise you it won’t take long for me to ease the heavy burden you are carrying here.”

With the merest hint of pressure, she closed her hand over him. Morgan sucked in a deep, ragged breath, and a curse passed his lips.

She moved to look into his eyes. “Now, are you sure you don’t want me to step over and close the drawing room doors before I go, my lord?”

No, he wasn’t sure at all that he didn’t want her to do exactly what she was doing and much more. He had longed for this. He had paid for this. He deserved this.

But…

Suddenly he remembered sparkling, innocent green eyes and tempting lips and propriety. Morgan dug down deep and found the courage to take hold of Miss Goodbody’s hand and, reluctantly, he did the right thing and stepped away from her.

Once the deed was done, he let out a long, calming breath. He agreed with Saint. Few could match Miss Goodbody’s appeal, and the woman would have been perfect—if Miss Sweet hadn’t arrived first.

He looked into the courtesan’s soft brown eyes, and he knew she was as disappointed as he. After all, she wasn’t the kind of woman men usually declined.

“I don’t doubt that you can deliver what you promise, Miss Goodbody, but you must accept that at this time your services are no longer needed.”

Morgan saw something out of the corner of his eye and turned in time to see Miss Sweet hurrying by with her arms full of books.

Damnation! How much had she heard or seen?

“I understand now,” Miss Goodbody said as she took a step away from him. “She’s lovely.”

He cleared his throat. “As I said, you will be well compensated for the change in plans.”

She nodded once. “Thank you. I don’t ever burn bridges, my lord. You are a handsome, powerful man.” She paused, lowering her lashes and dropping her gaze to where her hand had recently held him. “A very big man.” Her gaze popped back up to his. “Perhaps you will have reason to call on my services in the future.”

Obviously, along with her other expertise, Miss Goodbody was a professional business woman. She had wisely decided not to give him any trouble. A trustworthy name in her business was as valuable as a good name in Polite Society.

“Not far down the road at the village you passed is The Weary Traveler’s Inn. I think it best you stay there for the evening. The proprietor is Mr. Harrisburg. Tell him I sent you, and he will give you his best room. He knows that I will take care of him later.”

“Thank you, my lord. I will do as you suggest.”

Morgan nodded once. “I’ll get Post to show you to the door.”

Six

My Dearest Grandson Lucas,

Over the years I’ve had many gentlemen steal my heart, but the great Lord Chesterfield was the only one to steal my mind. Read this: “Though men are all of one composition, the several ingredients are so differently proportioned in each individual that no two are exactly alike; and no one at all times like himself. The ablest man will sometime do weak things; the proudest man, mean things, the honestest man, ill things; and the wickedest man, good things.”

Your loving Grandmother,

Lady Elder

Arianna stood at one of the windows in her bedchamber and watched two horses grazing in a paddock. Earlier in the day she had watched several men working with different horses, first walking them and later riding them, but the workers seemed to have left for the day. The stables looked quite large and were situated not far from the main estate, on a grassy knoll dotted with trees. There was a field of colorful wild flowers to one side of the stone structure that housed the animals and another larger paddock with more horses situated just beyond the field of tall light blue blooms.

She didn’t know if it was the fourth or fifth afternoon of her stay at Lord Morgandale’s manor. She had spent so much time reading through some of the many journals of her father’s that she’d brought with her, sleeping, and eating that the days had run together. Her bouts of dizziness were less frequent, and she had started eating a little more. Once she accepted that what she needed to do was stay put and regain her strength, she was determined to do everything possible to get strong enough to continue her journey to London.

And she was getting stronger. Just that morning, for the first time, she felt strong enough to do movements and steps of one of the dances she’d learned in India. Losing herself in the Indian dances had always been a way for her to relax and clear her mind of any troubles or concerns. Her room was quite large, and she had plenty of space to maneuver around without bumping into the furniture. But it hadn’t taken her more than a minute or two to become out of breath and feel weak and shaky once again.

When not searching through her father’s journals, she studied on her plan of all she needed to do when she reached London. The first thing was to lease a house and get her belongings from the freight company. Once she had the rest of her father’s papers and books safely in her possession, she would see Mr. Warburton and ask his assistance in finding and reconstructing her father’s formula from his notes. Once that was accomplished, he could present it to the Royal Apothecary Scientific Academy in her father’s name. After they approved it, the medicine could be widely distributed.

But more often than Arianna wanted, her thoughts drifted to the handsome earl. She hadn’t seen him since she had walked past the drawing room and saw him standing close to the woman. Arianna couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they both seemed intent on each other.

Arianna assumed the lady must have been the person he had been expecting the night Arianna arrived. She only got a glimpse of her face, but it was enough to know she was a beautiful woman. For some reason she hadn’t stayed long, but Lord Morgandale must have had some tender affection for her, for they were holding hands.

Though Arianna had tried to keep the incident from her thoughts, she had spent more than a little time the past couple of days wondering why she had felt a tight curl of something similar to envy in her chest when she saw them so intimately together. Surely it was none of her concern. Besides, not only did she not really know the earl, she repeatedly reminded herself that she didn’t even approve of him. He was much too forceful and arrogant for her tastes.

She realized that at twenty-seven, she was fast approaching the age of becoming a spinster, if not already there. But she had always thought that if she ever caught a gentleman’s eye, he would be a soft-spoken, scholarly man like her father. She didn’t want to be enamored of such a worldly and enchantingly handsome gentleman as Lord Morgandale.

And she would have to keep telling herself that until she believed it.

The longer Arianna stood and watched the horses, the more she wanted to go out and enjoy the beautiful afternoon. There wasn’t a cloud in the hazy blue sky. The temperature was warm and inviting. A gentle breeze blew through the open window. It was as if the outside world beckoned her to come out and play.

And why shouldn’t she? The stables looked to be a reasonable walk from the main house, and she hadn’t seen anyone coming or going from them in at least an hour. Now seemed as good a time as any to test her legs and see how strong she was. She couldn’t stay under the hospitality of the earl’s house one day more than necessary, no matter how much she would like to. She needed to get to London and meet with Mr. Warburton. Maybe walking and dancing a little each day would rebuild her constitution faster.

Arianna glanced down at the bright pink sari that she wore with its vivid yellow and green trim. She had donned the Indian dress that morning and spent all of a couple of minutes dancing. The short-sleeve tunic she wore with the skirt had a low, scooped neckline and was cropped more than two inches above her natural waistline.

Since all of her clothing had been made in India, even her English-style clothing was of brighter and more vivid colors than would be allowed for unmarried young ladies in England. After she had spent more than three years in India, her father had finally relented and allowed her to wear dresses made from the bright colors, styles, and fabrics of the Indian people, but he had always insisted that when she returned to England, she would have to wear the colors and styles that were fashionable in her homeland.

Even in India she had never been allowed to wear a sari outside the house. Except for the end of the fabric which was thrown over the shoulder, it left her midriff bare. She looked at the wardrobe that held her English clothing and back out the window again. She had no idea where Beabe was or how long it would take to go below stairs, find her maid to help her change her clothing, and then pull up her hair into a chignon as would be proper for walking about the estate.

Arianna’s desire to get out of the house was too great to waste all that time. And she wanted to get out to the paddock and see the horses before someone came to put them back inside for the night. The easiest thing to do would be to simply throw on a lightweight cape over the sari and not take time to change.

Once she settled that in her mind, she grabbed a straw bonnet with a wide, bright green ribbon and a dark brown cape from the wardrobe. Seconds later, she was out her bedchamber door. As she walked down the wide staircase to the entrance hall, she made a bow under her chin with the ribbon on her hat and then tied the braided cord of her cape around her neck. As quietly as possible, she opened the heavy front door and stepped out, closing it gently behind her.

Arianna stood for a moment and breathed in deeply, stretching her arms above her head and then out to her sides. It was heavenly to finally feel better. She must come up with a suitable way to thank the earl for allowing her this much needed rest to improve her health.

Knowing the stables were to the left of the house, she headed that way. It didn’t take her long to realize that the stables and paddock were farther from the main house than she realized and that what looked like a gentle rise up to the grassy knoll was, in her weakened condition, actually a very steep hill. She took her time but was still out of breath and weak-kneed by the time she made it to the paddock and leaned on the fence.

The horses’ ears had pricked forward as she neared, and the animals watched her with big, deep brown eyes. Both animals were dark chestnut. Their healthy coats gleamed in the late afternoon sun.

One horse was taller and more powerfully built than the other. In some places, his coat was so dark it looked black, reminding her of Lord Morgandale’s thick hair. The big stallion watched her closely with a suspicious eye as she leaned heavily upon the fence and calmed her breathing. He whinnied and threw his proud-looking head in the air as if he were asking her to explain her presence in his domain. The smaller horse had a gentle-eyed stare and seemed more curious than outraged or agitated by her being there.

Arianna smiled and watched both with interest while she rested.

“Good afternoon,” she called and waved to the stallion who hadn’t taken his penetrating gaze off her.

Much to her amazement, he trotted over to her with his head held high, his mane gently flapping in the breeze. He came right up to her, snorting. She reached out to touch him, but he backed away, snorted at her again, and tossed his head belligerently. He then turned his back on her and trotted off to the other side of the paddock as if she wasn’t worth his time.

Arianna laughed. She had never been snubbed by a horse before. The stallion’s behavior reminded her very much of Lord Morgandale the night she arrived unannounced at his house.

She lifted her straight skirt several inches above her ankles and climbed up on the first rung of the wooden fence. Her soft-soled slippers were not ideal for the long walk or climbing a fence, but she managed to find a comfortable, stable way to stand by putting most of her weight on the center of her feet.

Leaning over the fence, she kept her voice soft but loud enough for him to hear as she said, “You are arrogant, just like your master. Mind your manners. Come over here and greet me properly.”

The horse whinnied, snorted, and pawed at the earth again as if to remind her of his power and to warn her away from him.

“You do not frighten me. Come here and let me rub you. I will prove to you that you are really as gentle as a baby lamb.”

His dark eyes stared at her. He twitched his ears and then turned away, but just as quickly he changed direction, acquiesced, and raced toward her in a charging manner. He stopped short of reaching her, snorted, and continued his watchful stare.

Arianna remained calmly on the fence and spoke firmly to the horse. “Stop that. You are not a menace.”

His nostrils flared excitedly, and he moved restlessly, kicking up clumps of the soft dirt beneath his hooves.

“You are trying to intimidate me, aren’t you? Well your bestial attitude won’t work on me, Master Brute. I have ridden atop elephants in India and have not been frightened. They are bigger and stronger than you. And I have walked beside a tiger that was un-tethered, and they are more ferocious than you. So stop your snorting and pawing. You cannot scare me away. Now, be a good
ghoda
and come here and let me rub you.”

Lifting her skirt even higher so she could bend her knee, Arianna slowly climbed up to the second rung of the fence, making her as tall as the horse. She reached out her hand and waited until he relented, walked up to her, and sniffed her palm. He tossed his head again, whinnied, and backed up, but he didn’t run off as he had the other two times.

She smiled. She was winning him over.

“Oh, I see that it is not friendship you want from me but only a treat, and my hand was empty. Very well, I will bring you something delicious the next time I come.”

His ears twitched as if he were listening to every word she spoke.

“Yes, yes, you drive a hard bargain. I promise,” she told the horse. “Let’s be friends. Come closer, I want to rub your shiny coat.”

He walked closer and then stood still and let her rub down the hard bridge of his long nose. She raked her hand down his firm neck, and gently patted him. His taut muscles shuddered beneath her touch. His coat was smooth and warm.

“You are a fine, powerful animal,” she said, rubbing him. “I am not afraid of you any more than I am afraid of your powerful master.”

“Is that so?” came a voice from behind her.

Startled, Arianna gasped and jerked. At her sudden motion, the horse reared up, knocking her wide-brimmed hat to her shoulders. Arianna lurched back and lost her footing. She felt herself falling backward, but suddenly she was caught up in strong, familiar arms. Once again, she found herself pressed against Lord Morgandale’s wide, muscular chest, looking up and staring into his magnificent blue eyes.

The quickening sensations she felt last time he held her so close surfaced, only much stronger than before. This time, she didn’t fight him or struggle to be released. One reason was that she couldn’t have even if she had wanted to. In her fall and his catching her, her arms became wrapped inside her cape, thankfully covering her sari. But more importantly, she didn’t struggle because, strangely, she felt as if she was where she belonged.

His body was warm, and she felt strength in his embrace. The scent of horse, leather, and shaving soap teased her nose. She stared up at him with no embarrassment and no feeling that being in his arms was the wrong place to be.

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