How to Wed an Earl (25 page)

The other man slowly turned around to face him.

“Well, if it isn’t the heroic Earl of Ravenstone,” Blakewood said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. The dim light from the wall sconces threw shadows across his face. “Why am I not surprised to find you here?”

“I came here to warn you,” Lucas intoned. “Stay away from my sister. If you have a problem with me, then come to me, and we will deal with it as men.”

Blakewood emitted a harsh laugh. “What makes you think I have a problem with you?”

“Come, now, we both know you blame me for what happened to your father.”

“You have no right to talk about my father!” Blakewood’s hands clenched into fists. “You gave him no choice but to flee to France, leaving my mother and I to deal with the mess he left behind.”

He cocked one eyebrow in response to the young man’s heated display of emotion. “Your father got exactly what he deserved for his unethical financial strategy. Do not delude yourself that I was the only one who would have sought justice for what he’d done. He was lucky he was not hanged for his crimes.”

“You’re lying!”

“If you do not believe me,” he said derisively, “ask his man of affairs.”

“Hah! I will do no such thing.”

Lucas turned to inspect a painting that hung on the far side of the room. “That’s up to you of course. Frankly, I do not care what you do with your time as long as you spend it far away from Olivia.”

“How touching. I didn’t realize you were such an affectionate brother.”

He kept his tone light. “If you harm my sister in any way, I will make sure you end up just like your father.”

“Bastard!” Blakewood’s fists clenched once more. “I would never harm Lady Olivia.”

“Then why aren’t you courting her properly, as a lady of her station deserves?”

Blakewood gave him an incredulous look. “Are you telling me I may call upon her at your home?”

He was appalled by his own suggestion, but he wasn’t backing down now. He had to find out if Blakewood’s intentions were honorable.

“I am telling you,” he clarified in a dispassionate tone, “to grow a spine and make an attempt to behave honorably, instead of cowardly scurrying under a lady’s bonnet.”

With that last goading statement, Lucas made for the library door.

He didn’t know what made him taunt Blakewood into courting Olivia properly, as Penelope had suggested. There was simply no explanation for his actions.
Damn! Now I have to deal with Blakewood calling upon Olivia!

Since he’d known Penelope, she’d made him do things he would never have normally done. And he wasn’t only thinking of the things he’d had to do during their courtship, such as tutoring her half brother or advising her stepfather on investments.

She’d made him care about her to the point where Lucas was doing things against his better judgment to please her. His actions tonight were uncomfortably reminiscent of his own father’s weakness when it came to catering to his mother’s whims.

Bloody hell! I am
not
turning into my father!

He strode through the ballroom, looking for the person who was responsible for this disaster. He found her almost immediately, talking to a group of people who fawned over her. He approached her and gained a bit of satisfaction when she looked up and turned to him at once.

“Lucas!” Penelope said his name as if she had been clinging to it for dear life. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

He glanced at the people milling around her. “So I gather. Are you ready to go home?”

She looked at him searchingly. Whatever it was she saw in his expression made her acquiesce to his politely worded command.

“Yes, I am a little tired.”

He led her out of the ballroom and into the foyer, then lifted her up into their waiting coach. He stared at her as the coach swayed and moved away from the Uffington house, wondering yet again why this one tiny woman had such a volatile effect on him.

“Lucas?” she asked. “Are you well? Is everything fine?”

“I am all right, nymph. But I do not know if everything is, indeed, fine.”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitated before replying. “I have told Blakewood to stop sneaking around behind my back and court Olivia properly if his intentions are honorable.”

“You have?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “I am not happy about it, but — ”

He grunted as she landed with a soft thud against him. His arms closed around her. “I gather you’re pleased?”

“Oh, yes, Lucas. Very pleased. You do love your sister, after all.”

He had to turn away from the hope shining in her eyes. “God, Penelope, do you always have to look at me that way?”

“What way?”

“As if you think I’m the answer to all your dreams. Let me tell you right now that I am not.”

“I disagree.”

“Then you will be in for a disappointment. Don’t assume I agreed to let Blakewood court my sister because you suggested it. I did it because I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Of course.”

He shifted her on his lap. “You will not wrap me around your little finger. I am not a lapdog who will do your every bidding.”

“I never said you were a lapdog.”

“Dammit, Penelope, why do you love me?” He regretted the question as soon as the words left his mouth. What the devil was he doing? Why was he forcing her to see the error in her judgment when it came to his character?

His own answer hit him with a force that took the breath out of him. He wanted to know if she could love him for what he really was — a man who was far different from the paragon she assumed he was. And he wanted her to think that, despite everything, he was still noble and honorable and admirable. Christ, he wanted stupid, impossible things.

“I love you because you are brave, kind and generous,” Penelope answered.

Each word was like a stake that stabbed into him. “I am not kind, nymph.”

“And you accept me for who I am,” she added.

“What choice do I have? You are my wife,” he grumbled.

Penelope slid off his lap. “Butter the crumpets! This is turning into a daft argument. What is the matter with you tonight?”

He was grateful to be saved from forming a reply when the coach stopped in front of their townhouse and a footman opened the door.

“Please help my wife out, Harris. I have just remembered that I have to meet someone at my club.”

Though Penelope gave him a strange look, she apparently decided not to question him further. Thankful for being given a reprieve, he made sure Penelope was safely inside the house before giving the order to his coachman to drive on. He was in a peculiar mood, and he didn’t know if he could risk being with her tonight. He needed time to think and compose himself.

• • •

“His lordship must have had a very important meeting if he is staying away from home this evening.”

Penelope met her maid’s inquiring gaze in the mirror. “He must have, Bess, because he left as if the hounds of hell were after him.”

Her voice probably sounded too sharp, because Bess looked almost ill at the possibility that she’d offended her new mistress.

“I’m certain his lordship had good reason,” Bess said meekly before resuming her endless task of brushing Penelope’s hair.

He did have a good reason
, Penelope thought. She’d sensed his inner turmoil the minute they were alone in the coach. However, she failed to realize exactly what had been bothering him so until she heard the sound of the horses’ hooves thunder away from the house in a much quicker rhythm than usual. Lucas was fighting her, and tonight he’d performed a strategic retreat.

Until that moment, she had been too afraid to actually believe Lucas could ever begin to care for her. Until tonight, she’d been trying to be content to love him and not to expect him to return those feelings. He’d been kind and generous, and he seemed to want her very much. What else could an unwanted bride ask for? After all, their wedding had been only a matter of honor to him — it wasn’t as if she was particularly useful to a man like Lucas, what with her lack of dowry and social connections. She’d been too scared to fight for his love.

But perhaps she wasn’t so unwanted anymore. Lucas’s actions after he’d talked to Blakewood spoke too loudly to be ignored.

He was a man who had witnessed his father broken by love, and he was scared. Lucas was battling what he was feeling for her with everything he had at his disposal, and she didn’t like it. His actions affected both their lives, and she had the right to mutiny if she didn’t agree with his motives.

She gave her maid a bright smile. “In future, perhaps we can give Lucas a better reason to stay in than to go out.”

Bess’s hands stilled. “What do you mean, my lady?”

Her smile widened to a grin. She was going to give him exactly what he wanted. She was going to engage him in a battle of wills he could not win. It was time Penelope became the wicked nymph Lucas claimed her to be and weave a spell around her target. If he’d felt the need for a strategic retreat when she hadn’t even been trying, he would stand no chance after she was done with him.

“Tomorrow, we are going shopping,” she declared.

If a woman was going to wage a battle of epic proportions to bring a man to his knees, she was going to need the right clothes.

A week later, she was no longer so certain of victory. She stared at the overturned phaeton in mute misery as Blakewood and Olivia ran over to her side. The afternoon sun glinted on the sleek equipage, making it look both splendid and tragic.

The phaeton was the latest victim in the series of failures she had endured since taking on the challenge of winning Lucas’s heart.

“Penelope! Are you all right?” Olivia asked.

Her co-conspirator was clearly worried. Since she had a limited experience with men, Penelope had sought Mari’s advice during tea one afternoon. Olivia had overheard the conversation and agreed to help. The drive in Hyde Park was Olivia’s idea. She was beginning to think her sister-in-law had suggested it only to spend time with Blakewood.

She looked down at her muddied carriage gown, one she had selected particularly to impress her husband. And it did look impressive — a magnificent creation in a shade of deep emerald trimmed with silver that glistened in the sun and silhouetted her form. Her beautiful gown was ruined, and so were her plans of spending the day with Lucas as chaperones.

“I am fine,” she grumbled as she walked over to a copse of trees where Lucas was soothing the pair of Friesian horses who’d been spooked by the accident.

How was she to win this battle of wills when nothing went according to plan? She approached him with as much dignity as she could muster.

“How are they?” she asked, referring to the horses.

Lucas flicked her an amused glance. “It will take some time for them to calm down enough to be safe to ride again.”

“The phaeton is drawing a crowd, but I don’t think there’s any major damage because of the accident.”

Lucas smiled. “Thank God for that. I think you’ve had enough driving lessons for the day, though.”

“You’re not angry?”

He finally gave her his full attention. “No, I am not. Why would you think I would be angry?”

“Because I was the one who convinced you to let me handle the reins.”

Lucas chuckled. “It was your first time handling a team, and a phaeton is trickier to drive than a curricle.” One of the horses jumped and he tugged at its reins, whispering soothing words that the nervous Friesian showed no sign of believing.

“You were doing very well until you decided to make the team gallop — they were going too fast to be able to make that last turn safely,” he proclaimed.

She had also been doing just fine until she decided to take on Lucas. At least he wasn’t angry with her. In fact, he’d been treating her with nothing more than amused indulgence the whole week.

On Monday, he only laughed when the cake she baked for him came out burned to a crisp. On Tuesday, he smiled before calmly beating her at chess. Lucas’s smile was in evidence again on Wednesday, when it rained during the romantic picnic she had arranged for them, and his laughter echoed in the gardens when Nelson stole the scones from her plate. By Thursday, she was in deep despair. She had the disturbing suspicion Lucas knew exactly what she was trying to do, and his amusement was rattling her already frayed nerves.

In fact, he only stopped laughing at her in the evening, when he took her to bed. Their lovemaking had become a sort of challenge, where neither of them backed down as they kissed and caressed each other until they were both mad with wanting and declaring their need in a shattering cadence of groans and sighs. The only time she saw a glimpse of what Lucas felt for her was when they were between the sheets.

She finally noticed his lack of progress with soothing the horses and decided to offer assistance. Lucas moved away from the team to meet her halfway as she walked up to the nervous pair.

“You should probably stay away from them, Penelope. It’s not safe to deal with a frightened horse, and these two have only been in my stables for a couple of days. I do not know them that well,” he warned.

She was not daunted. She might not be capable of driving a phaeton, or making her husband fall in love, but she knew how to deal with horses.

• • •

Lucas hesitated, debating the wisdom of letting Penelope near his team, wondering if this was another one of her tricks. He’d known what she was about with her sweet attempts to “woo” him this week, for she had been anything but subtle about it.

He’d wanted to lecture her regarding the folly of her plan, but truth be told, after she’d burned the cake on Monday, he had been more than curious to see what she would try next, and he’d looked forward to their encounters more than he cared to admit.

He frowned. If Penelope knew how effective she has been so far, she wouldn’t stop until she had him begging her not to leave him if she ever found out his reason for marrying her. Already she was driving him to unparalleled heights of desire as he tried every night to please her until she shuddered beneath him and swore her love for him.