Intentions of the Earl (10 page)

“I should like to visit a bathhouse,” Liberty
said excitedly. “Lady Olivia makes trips regularly. She says the
baths keep you in good health.”

“Lady Olivia needs all the help she can get
in that department,” Brooke quipped.

“How so?” Mrs. Banks asked. She cocked her
head and her brow knit a little in confusion as she looked to her
daughters to supply an answer.

“Lady Olivia is always unwell,” Madison
answered. “Why just last week when I was to go accompany her to go
buy more ribbons, at her request might I add, her butler informed
me she had taken to her room for the day with a headache, backache,
fever and a leg cramp.”

“If you ask me, the girl likes to be sick,”
Brooke added.

“Exactly so,” Andrew agreed. “I’ve known her
older brother since we were boys together at Eton. He confided in
us all that she was the most sickly creature he had ever met, and
that she loves to take to the sickroom. He even said he believed
half of her ‘conditions’ were made up just for attention.”

“I bet her family despairs she shall never
marry,” Liberty said, shaking her head.

“Indeed, who would want such a sickly wife?
Especially if the man in question needed an heir,” Mrs. Banks said
with true sympathy ringing in her voice.

Andrew knew the answer to that: any man who
needed enough money. Her family was one of the richest in England.
“Her dowry will help her make a match when it’s time,” Andrew said
smoothly, silently praying that her money wouldn’t be needed to
secure him as said match.

“Shall we retire to the drawing room? Perhaps
we could play a game,” Mrs. Banks suggested when silence filled the
room once again.

Though her words came out sounding like a
suggestion, Andrew knew her meaning was not. There was no mistaking
her tone; they were going to play a parlor game.

On the way to the drawing room, Andrew leaned
down close to Brooke’s ear and whispered, “I do believe you look
good in red.” He said the words so low that he was sure nobody else
could have heard them, but just to make sure, he deliberately
slowed down his steps so they could put some distance between them
and the rest of her family.

“Yes, I agree. Mama says it’s my color.”

“It’s your color, indeed. I do believe
anything you don that’s red will look good on you. Especially
something red and perhaps transparent,” Andrew said in a silky
tone.

Brooke gave him a sharp look and gestured to
where the rest of her family was just steps ahead of them, possibly
in earshot.

“It’s clear you do not wish to talk about
your trousseau any longer. Instead we shall discuss your visit to
Bath,” he mused.

“It shall be quite refreshing to get out of
the city and see some of the country,” Brooke responded flatly.

Andrew stopped in the hall and turned to
fully face Brooke. “Yes, the countryside shall be refreshing. It
shall put some color in your cheeks I am quite sure.” Then Andrew’s
voice took on a deep husky tone and he added, “The baths your
sister spoke of will add some color, too.”

At his comment, her face right there in the
hallway of her uncle’s London townhouse took on some color. Even
though she was an innocent, she had understood his innuendo and it
made her blush, just as he had hoped.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be
talking to me about such things as personal as bathing,” Brooke
said in an unsteady tone.

“Not appropriate?” Andrew asked quietly, his
voice dripping with mock horror while his hands flew to his chest
and his eyes went wide. “I wouldn’t want to offend your
sensibilities, I assure you. However, when did you begin to care
about what was appropriate and inappropriate? Have you been reading
Liberty’s etiquette manuals?”

“No, I have not,” Brooke snapped. “The point
is, you have been overly friendly all evening and I would like it
if you would stop.”

Andrew raised a brow at her. “Overly
friendly, is that what you call it? I remember you saying some
things that could be considered overly friendly.”

“Like what?” is what Andrew expected her to
say. But instead, “Stop looking at me that way,” was her
response.

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like you want to kiss me,” Brooke answered
breathlessly.

Andrew inched his face a little closer to
hers. “Maybe I do.” As he said it, he realized it was true, he did
want to kiss her. But that was not advantageous, so he said, “Maybe
I don’t.”

“Maybe you don’t?” Brooke asked
disbelievingly. “Every man who has looked at me the way you are
right now has tried to kiss me.”

“Every man? How many have there been?” he
asked, without a hint of shock in his voice. She was a beautiful
young woman; he’d be more surprised if there hadn’t been any.

Brooke gave a forced shrug. “Not so
many.”

Andrew decided to let that pass. Who was he
to care how many men had tried to kiss her? Just because he wanted
to kiss her didn’t give him a right to demand the names of all the
other cads who already had. “Well then, my dear, you have a lot to
learn about men. I, for one, do not intend to kiss you.” Then
silently, he added, “Yet”.

Brooke flushed with what he thought to be
embarrassment. She cleared her throat. “I think we should join the
others.”

Andrew nodded his affirmation and they
continued down the hall in silence.

They were immediately accosted by Mrs. Banks
when they stepped into the drawing room. “We have just decided on
teams for charades. You two shall be a team. Liberty and Madison
will be another team, and Mr. Banks and I will make up the third
team. Why don’t you go sit down on the red settee and wait while
Madison and Liberty are out practicing their scene,” she said as
happily as a child who had just been given a new toy.

“All right, Mama,” Brooke said, walking to
the settee.

When they were seated, Andrew turned to
Brooke. “Are we really playing charades? I haven’t played this game
since I was in short pants.” He tried to keep the annoyance and
disbelief from his tone.

“It’s Mama’s favorite. There’s no use in
fighting it. It’s better to just indulge her by playing.”

Just then Liberty and Madison came in, ready
to do their scene. Their faces gave away that they were both quite
proud of what they had thought up and were trying extremely hard
not to giggle about it. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after
all.

Madison and Liberty walked to the middle of
the drawing room where Madison bowed to Liberty and Liberty
curtsied to Madison. Madison extended her hand and Liberty took it
then they started to dance.

At first their dancing was very graceful,
both Madison and Liberty smiling brightly at each other. He
couldn’t tell if their smiles were part of the act or because they
were on the verge of laughter.

After a minute, Andrew began to wonder what
in the world they were acting out. Was he supposed to be guessing?
All he could tell was that two people were dancing, that could be
anything. That’s when it all changed.

Liberty suddenly made a big production of
some imaginary object at her feet. She was dancing out of step and
swishing her skirts around violently with her hips. Then in a split
second, she lost her balance and toppled to the ground, pulling
Madison right along with her.

Andrew immediately jumped up, ignoring what
he could have sworn sounded distinctly like a dog’s bark, and
rushed over to them. “Are you all right?” he asked, trying to help
Madison off the floor. To his amazement, he realized they were both
laughing. Madison was laughing so hard her body was shaking and
Liberty was letting off peals of hysterical laughter, and so were
their parents. Apparently everyone in the room, except for him,
understood what had just happened. They were all laughing, everyone
but Brooke. Brooke’s face had taken on the reddest shade he had yet
seen, and she looked almost on the verge of tears. What in the
world was going on here?

“We’re fine! We’re fine!” Madison fairly
shouted.

“It was all part of the act,” Liberty said in
between bursts of giggles.

“All right, I suppose I’m the only one who
missed that. What exactly was that act from?” He sincerely wanted
to know, too. He knew that in charades you acted out a popular
play, book or poem, but he had no idea what this specific act was
from, or why it would have such an ill effect on Brooke.

“It’s Brooke!” Liberty squealed.

“What’s Brooke?” Andrew asked, looking back
at Brooke who looked stricken.

“The act is about Brooke,” Mrs. Banks
clarified for a dumbfounded Andrew. “It was one of Brooke’s first
balls in New York. Prince Nikolai from Russia was visiting and had
asked Brooke to dance with him. Before the dance started, Mrs.
Clemmens gave Mopsy, her dreadful poodle that she took everywhere,
to a footman to take him outside for a little walk. The footman
lost hold of the dog and it ran onto the dance floor. A few minutes
later Brooke lost her balance and fell to the ground, bringing the
prince with her. As if that didn’t attract enough attention, she
really got full attention when Mopsy started barking and came
scrambling out of Brooke’s skirt.”

The whole room erupted in laughter again.

Andrew swung his gaze to Brooke. She didn’t
even have a slight smile. Her face was still bright red and her
lower lip was trembling. Her hands shook violently in her lap. She
had clamped them into two fists, squeezed so tightly her knuckles
were going white and her fingernails were digging so hard into her
palms he wouldn’t be surprised if in a moment there would be a
trickle of red running down her palms. She was clearly embarrassed.
What he couldn’t figure out if she was embarrassed that it happened
or that it was being told to a suitor.

He walked back across the room and sat down
next to her again. The rest of the family was caught up reliving
the story, laughing and congratulating each other on a scene well
done. Andrew decided they were too distracted to notice the two of
them, so he picked up one of Brooke’s hands. He uncurled her
fingers and with his thumb, then rubbed her palm where she had left
four half-moon shaped marks from squeezing so tightly. A minute
later he felt her hand begin to relax. “We’ve all had our moments.
Some of them are worse than others,” he told her soothingly, giving
her hand a friendly squeeze.

“It seems my family loves to relive mine,”
Brooke said very quietly through trembling lips.

Her face was still red and her eyes looked
watery, but he saw no actual tears. He truly felt bad about what
was happening and his heart went out to her, but he didn’t believe
her family had done it with the intent to upset her so much. “You
know they only did that because they love you.”

Brooke shrugged.

“It’s true. I may not know your family very
well, but from what I’ve seen they love you very much. I would be
willing to bet my whole fortune, which is just slightly more than
forty pounds, that not only do they love you, but I think Liberty
and Madison are envious it was you, and not either of them, who got
to give Prince Nikolai an American experience he’ll never
forget.”

Brooke cracked a smile. A moment of silence
passed before she spoke. “I just wish they hadn’t decided to act
that particular scene out in front of company. It makes me look
like an absolute idiot.”

Andrew chucked. “It wasn’t your fault, you
know. And trust me it could have been worse. Knowing you just the
little that I do, I would imagine this incident is probably far
from the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to you.”

They hadn’t realized anyone was paying
attention to them until Liberty laughingly said, “You’d be right on
that score, my lord. She has quite rightly earned her nickname,
Muddles. Why when she was fifteen, we had this tutor she didn’t
like, Miss Peters was her name, anyway—”

Andrew cut her off by sending her an icy
glare that caused her tongue to freeze on the spot. He’d felt
Brooke’s whole body tense next to him and knew whatever was coming
next was not something she’d care to have him hear.

“Perhaps we should play something else?” Mrs.
Banks hedged.

“Perhaps we should all call it a night,” Mr.
Banks suggested, creating an easy escape for Andrew.

“Indeed,” Andrew replied, giving a thankful
look to Mr. Banks. “It has been the most pleasant evening. I have
enjoyed your hospitality.” Then turning to Brooke he asked, “Would
you be interested in joining me at the British Museum day after
tomorrow?”

“That would be lovely,” Brooke murmured.

Andrew bowed to the family and made his
exit.

“I shall retire now,” Brooke announced after
Andrew was gone and she had recovered a shred of her dignity.

Without waiting for a response from the
others, she walked from the room as fast as her slippers would
carry her.

“I would say the evening was a success,”
Carolina chirped.

“How would you define success, Carolina?”
John asked.

“Brooke has secured another outing with the
earl. I think that makes it a success,” Carolina declared.

“That’s true, but she also ended her evening
thoroughly embarrassed and near tears,” John added solemnly.

“Pooh,” Liberty intoned. “It was just a silly
act. We didn’t make anything up, it really happened. What is there
to be embarrassed about? We all know it wasn’t even her fault it
happened.”

“Perhaps it’s that she had one of her most
humiliating moments put on display in front of a gentleman,” John
thought aloud.

“Oh, do be serious, John. Brooke found it
just as humorous when it happened as everyone else did. She even
went around for weeks telling anyone within earshot about the
incident. That includes the countless number of suitors she had
back in New York.” Carolina paused. “I even heard her recount the
story just last fall to that Davis boy we all thought she’d marry.
They both found it highly amusing.”