Only an Earl Will Do (6 page)

She stared up at him, her mouth open with a gasp, and he ran a finger down her cheek, following the curve of her chin. “Do you know what I think?” he whispered against her ear.

“What?” she said at length, the shiver of her touch running through his arm.

“I would lay good blunt down to say that right at this moment you would like me to drag ye behind the ferns at your back, take ye in my arms, and remind you that ye think me anything but a donkey.”

She grinned, his heart hammering in his chest at the gesture. He’d missed making her laugh, making her happy. “Oh, Henry,” she chuckled, running her finger up his arm, her touch burning him through his coat. “I never took you for a simpleton, though. Perhaps I should call you a fool instead of an ass.”

He shook his head as he watched her saunter off into the crowd, her gown of blue silk swishing about her long legs. How was it that she could madden him and intoxicate him at the same time? Smiling, he set off for more of the good brandy and some gambling, having had enough of the fairer sex this night. Or one particular fair sex, at least.

…

Elizabeth entered the library at her parent’s London home and into a whirl of controversy. Her mother, who’d accompanied Alice from the country, tittered over a posy of bluebells.

“Elizabeth, come see,” Alice said, gesturing. “You have received a gift. An anonymous one.”

She frowned at the bunch of violet flowers that sat atop a ribboned corsage. “It’s very pretty, I’m sure. Was there a card, Mama?”

The duchess pulled the bellpull and rang for a servant. Within moments, Thomas, the head butler, walked in. “Your grace?”

“Thomas, did you recognize who it was that left the gift for Lady Newland? There was no card attached.”

“I’m sorry, your grace, but no. A street urchin delivered it. Practically threw the box at the footman and skittered off,” the butler said, his face a mask of distaste.

Elizabeth smiled her thanks and turned to her mother. “Well then, we shall have to wait and see if someone owns up to such a gift. I’m sure whoever it was will come forward. It isn’t proper not to do so. The poor boy who delivered it probably lost the card and was scared he’d be scolded. That is all.”

“Maybe not. Perhaps Elizabeth has a secret admirer. One who wishes to be sneaky with his courting,” Alice said, her eyes alight with teasing.

Elizabeth shushed her sister before picking up the box and examining it. She supposed Lord Riddledale could’ve sent it in his haste to sway her no to a yes. Or even Lord Dean could be finally coming forward with his regard, but more likely it was from Henry, baiting her like he teased her the other night. A donkey was too sweet an animal use to proclaim him. Maybe boar, as in pig, would suit better.

“You look a little troubled, my dear. Is something the matter?” Her mother pulled her into the parlor. Alice followed, close on their heels, and shut the door behind them.

Elizabeth sat on the settee, folding her hands in her lap to stop them from fussing. “I’m thinking over who may have sent the posy, that’s all.”
And Henry. Always Henry.

“The esteemed Lord Riddledale could’ve sent them. Oh, what a lucky girl you are.” Alice chuckled.

“Alice! That is rude and I’ll not countenance it. His lordship is a much sought-after gentleman. Either of you girls would be lucky to marry such a man.”

“I heartily disagree,” Alice mumbled under her breath.

“I heard you.” Their mother threw Alice a pointed stare. “I don’t understand you girls. All of you are out and yet none of you is married. I despair of ever being a grandmother to more than one child.”

“Oh, Mama, you will be a grandmother many times over, I promise. Why, just the other day Victoria and I were talking of the act itself, and that since our marriages will be nothing other than love matches, you’ll have a horde of grandchildren soon enough.” Alice grinned, mirth rampant in her gaze.

Their mother sat silent, her eyes wide with shock before she rallied her argument. “Take heed, my dears, you do not want to cut off your noses to spite your face.”

“What do you mean?” Elizabeth frowned, having never heard of such a saying.

“I would suggest you do not slight men who could make you happy and give you a good life just because they do not meet your ideals. It reeks of vanity, and you could end up with no one at all.”

“They’re not ideals, Mama, only that we wish to marry for love. Surely there is nothing wrong with that,” Alice said, playing with her hair.

Elizabeth glared at her vexing sister who didn’t know when to be quiet. “For all your ideals on love, Alice, I for one will never marry again. I have my son and a comfortable life, thanks to Newland. I’m quite content.”

The duchess replied. “Even so, it would please me if you wore the posy tonight, Elizabeth. We must find out who your admirer is.”

“Mother, I cannot.” Elizabeth sat up, the thought of doing such a thing making her stomach curdle. “The gentleman will think I welcome his suit. I will not do it, especially
without
knowing who it was from.”

“Yes, you will. The gentleman may think what he likes, but your father will determine if he is suitable as a husband, so you needn’t worry on that score. I’m sure by wearing the posy the gentleman will come forward.”

“I’m sure Lord Riddledale sent it,” Alice declared, nodding.

“Father knows I’ll never marry again, so wearing the flowers is a moot point.”

“You will wear it, Elizabeth, if only to please your dear mama. Do not fret, my dear. It is nothing scandalous.”

Elizabeth walked from the room, leaving the dreadful posy in the parlor where it belonged. Even as a widow it seemed she was not in control of her life, that the play of others and their wishes sat forefront to her own feelings on the matter.

She stormed up the stairs, not caring if she portrayed a child in pigtails who’d not been given her every wish. The thought of going back to Newland Estate ran through her mind, and she paused mid step. Little Samuel would at least be glad to see her, and she’d love nothing more than to see him again, too.

But if Henry found out where she’d gone and why, he could start to wonder why she’d never mentioned a child to him. Perhaps he’d even want to meet Samuel. Elizabeth sighed, continuing up to her room. No. She would wear the damn posy and be done with it. And if the gentleman was so brave to proclaim himself as the one who’d sent it, she’d let him know exactly what she thought of the gift and of it having no card. That’s if she didn’t box him about the head with the posy first.

Chapter Four

Elizabeth fought not to roll her eyes as Lord Riddledale bent over her fingers, his attention fixed upon the posy at her wrist. And by the excited gleam she read in his gaze, she had her answer as to who’d sent the gift.

“What beautiful flowers, Lady Newland. Pray tell, who gave them to you?”

Elizabeth pulled her hand out of his clasp and felt the need to go wash, to rid herself of his touch. “That’s the oddest thing, my lord, I do not know. It arrived yesterday with no card.” She looked away from his salacious smirk and out toward the floor. She spied Henry dancing a cotillion with a girl she didn’t recognize, their similar height making the dance seem effortless.

“What a shame.” Lord Riddledale preened like a peacock, patting his hair and giving a decided sniff when he finished. “For it seems you have an admirer who wishes to remain anonymous.”

Henry lead the debutante from the floor, and an ache formed in her chest. Elizabeth looked back at her
not so secret admirer
, and fought not to hit him over the head with her fan. Pompous fool. Did he really think she was so daft? She leaned closer to him to ensure privacy.

“Are you not jealous, my lord? To have another man sending me gifts must vex you after you asked me to be your bride.”

He, too, leaned closer, his voice but a whisper. “I think we both know who your admirer is, my dear. And since my proposal seems hasty to you, I thought a little courting was in order. You may show your gratitude now.”

Elizabeth took a calming breath, taking a sip of wine. “Mama was very cross there was no card.” She stifled a giggle behind her fan as his lordship paled at her words, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his brow.

“The duchess will forgive me when we’re married.”

“I have not said yes, my lord. Nor do I feel inclined to.” Elizabeth couldn’t think of anything worse than to marry this man. There had always been something she hadn’t liked about the gentleman, and now she knew what that was. He was self-centered, with no care toward others.

Alice started toward them and, thankfully, Lord Riddledale noted their little tête-à-tête would be disrupted and stopped talking. Thank God.

He bowed to her sister before turning his attention back to her. “The posy suits you, my dear, but now I must beg your leave. I’m expected at another function. As you know, I’m a most sought-after gentleman.”

She fought not to roll her eyes. “Good evening, my lord. I would not keep you for anything,” Elizabeth said, her tone sarcastic even to her own ears.

He picked up her hand, placing a small kiss against her glove. Elizabeth glared. “Do not overstep your bounds, Lord Riddledale.”

He laughed, strutting away like the peacock he was.

She glared after him, hating him more than she thought possible. After all, he’d only asked her to marry him, but there was something about the man…

“I thought he’d never leave.” Alice sighed, coming to stand beside her.

Elizabeth turned her attention to the dancing couples. “He is determined I’ll be his wife.” She paused, looking down at her wrist. “I cannot believe Mother made me wear this posy.”

Alice fanned her face and greeted Lord Arndel as he walked past. Elizabeth smiled at the gentleman, unsure as to what to do with Alice’s forward manners. Lord Arndel nodded but did not speak nor slow enough to converse.

“Alice, your manners will become the town’s fuel for gossip if you keep up such antics.”

“Oh fiddlesticks. Look about, there is no one watching us.” Alice paused. “And I like annoying him. It’s entertaining.”

Lord Arndel looked back to see if Alice was watching him and ran into a young woman. His coloring turned bright red as he profusely apologized to the girl and hurried on. “Perhaps he isn’t as uninterested as he seems,” Elizabeth said.

“I ought to marry him and shock him even more.” Alice’s determined gaze was locked on the gentleman, and Elizabeth could almost feel sorry for the man. Her sister could be quite a minx when provoked.

“You admire him that much?”

“Why not? He is titled, not too young or old, has a face that pleases me, and I need a husband. He’ll do as well as any other. Shame he’s so reclusive, though. He may be a little boring.”

Elizabeth took in Lord Arndel’s handsome features, strong shoulders, and height. There could be worse people to be around than him. He glanced back at them and the heated, determined gaze he bestowed on her sister gave Elizabeth pause. “Or he might just surprise you, Alice, and be anything but boring. He may even be exciting.”

Her sister laughed. “Oh, one can only hope.”

…

A week later saw the arrival of another anonymous gift, again delivered by the raggedy-looking boy of the streets. Elizabeth looked down at the single white lily sitting on a bed of crimson paper within a long white box. She chewed her lip. If her mother thought she would wear
that
tonight or carry it around, she was cork-brained. Lord Riddledale’s pride was beyond measure when she’d worn the posy, nevertheless this.

Elizabeth started upstairs—there was no way she’d allow her mother to see this flower if she could help it. The front door swung open and in walked her brother, Josh, and his friend Lord Dean. Elizabeth paused, knowing she should do the right thing and greet them. Her mama exited the library, and she bit back a curse, glaring down at the lily.

“Greetings, family. I have arrived.”

Elizabeth turned, rolling her eyes at her younger brother’s antics. She held the parcel behind her back and hoped no one would notice. “I don’t know how we managed without you, Josh, dear,” she said, grinning at her sibling.

He kissed her cheek. “You have not, but never fear, for I’m here, and all will be well.”

She laughed, shaking her head.

“Elizabeth, what is that you are holding behind your back?” Her mama stretched out her hand as if to take the parcel from her.

“A flower.”

Josh peeked over her shoulder, passing the footman his coat as he did so. “A gift to our Elizabeth, is it? Who’s the unlucky gentleman?”

Elizabeth turned and whacked him with the box. Her mother gasped and took it away, glaring at them both.

“What are you doing in town anyway? Come to acquire your own future duchess? Father will be pleased if you do.”

Her brother paled, and she smirked, enjoying his discomfort over her questioning. “No need for me to find a wife, I’m not the duke yet.”

“Look, there’s a card today.” The duchess smiled. “See, what did I tell you, my dear. Wearing the posy the other evening has brought the gentleman forward. Now let us see what he says.”

Her brother lifted his chin, his lips curved in a smug smile. “Just came up for some town influence. You being a female, I wouldn’t expect you to understand a man’s needs.”

Elizabeth scoffed. “You need more than town influence. In fact, I think a good—”

“Elizabeth! That is enough.” Her mother turned her attention back to the card in her hand.

Elizabeth gave her back to her vexing brother, ignoring the subtle chuckle from both gentlemen. “Perhaps we could go into the study, Mama. I’m sure Josh and Lord Dean do not wish to learn about flowers and cards.”

Lord Dean stepped forward and bowed. “On the contrary, Lady Newland, this is all very exciting.”

Josh laughed. “Oh, of course we want to know who is courting you. Do not worry about Dean here.” He punched his friend in the arm. “We’ve known him for years. He won’t go telling anyone your little secret.” Josh winked.

Elizabeth bit back an unladylike term she’d like to fling at Josh’s head but instead ignored him. Her mother paled, and she clasped her arm. “What is it, Mama? The card is not offensive, I hope.”

“No, my dear, nothing like that. It is just…I believe it to be a verse. Although it is a little strange. I do not believe he is very good at poetry.”

Elizabeth’s cheeks heated as both her brother and Lord Dean laughed. Her mother continued. “It reads:

With eyes as green as emeralds.

So are mine with envy.

Every flower of the season will be yours

As you will be mine for eternity.
”

“Oh my word,” Elizabeth groaned. What on earth was Lord Riddledale up to? Other than to ruin her or make her die of embarrassment.

Her mother flipped the card over and looked up. “There is still no name. Did no one come forward at the ball last week when you wore the posy?”

“No one.” Elizabeth lied as she caught Lord Dean’s thoughtful expression. “May I be excused?”

“Of course,” her grace said.

Elizabeth headed upstairs, leaving the lily with her mama. She ignored her brother’s continued teasing as she turned down the hall toward her room. Lord Riddledale and his ridiculous gifts would have to be dealt with and sooner rather than later. Tonight, in fact, if she was unfortunate enough to see him again.

…

Much to Elizabeth’s dislike, her mother requested she wear the lily, and so, like a child once more, not the widowed lady that she was, Elizabeth stood before the Standley family ballroom, the lily safely clasped in her hand.

She narrowed her gaze when she noted her mama deep in conversation with the gentleman himself, Lord Riddledale, her face animated in conversation.

Although Elizabeth hadn’t told her parents she suspected Lord Riddledale, she wondered watching them both if her mama hadn’t come to the conclusion herself. For some absurd reason that Elizabeth had never known nor understood, her parents’ approved of him. In a way, she’d been lucky to marry Newland, if only to keep Riddledale from courting her.

For all of her rushed wedding to Lord Newland, he’d been a kind, caring husband who, although slow of mind, was a gentleman through and through, unlike Riddledale, who only ever thought of himself. Period.

“I see her grace has gained her way once again.”

Elizabeth turned to look at Lord Dean, his lips quirked into a warm smile. “Yes. Unfortunately.”

His lordship glanced at her mother, a contemplative look in his eyes. “For what it’s worth, it makes you look even prettier with the blossom than without.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you. You’re very kind.” They stood in silence a moment, lost in their own thoughts, before his lordship cleared his throat, rocking on his heels a little.

“Would you do the honor of calling me Anthony when we’re alone, Lady Newland? I feel we are good friends, are we not?”

Elizabeth lost herself for a moment in Lord Dean’s deep blue orbs that swirled with a storm of emotions she could never return. Even if she had not decided never to marry again, she would not look to Lord Dean for a husband. He was like a brother to her, a friend. And most importantly, the butterflies that she longed to feel take flight in her belly never came forth when she looked at him; only one man had caused such a stir within her, and he could go to the devil…maybe…

Movement behind Lord Dean’s shoulder caught her attention and her gaze flew wide, noting Henry’s hard glare on his lordship’s back. “I would like that, Anthony. Thank you, and in return you may call me Elizabeth.”

He bowed and kissed her glove. Elizabeth noted, much to her dismay, that she felt nothing at the touch, just as she expected.

“Shall we dance, Elizabeth?”

“Lady Newland has already promised the next set to me, Lord Dean,” Henry said, coming up to them and holding out his arm. Henry’s deep voice, full of menace and steel, brooked no argument.

The men eyed each other, and a simmering of dislike settled between them like a shroud. She took note of Henry’s determination and took pity on Lord Dean. A brawl would never do in polite society. “So I had, Lord Dean, but I have the next set free, if that is suitable?”

Always the gentleman, he bowed. “I’ll await you here until you’re free.”

She nodded. “Thank you. I look forward to it.”

Elizabeth placed her hand upon Henry’s arm and walked out onto the floor, now filling with patrons for the country dance. She tried to ignore the hardened muscle beneath her hand and the man beside her, who all but simmered with suppressed anger. He led her to the end of the line of dancers and pulled her close to his side.

“Lord Dean? Your head turns in that direction, Elizabeth?” He hissed against her ear.

Elizabeth looked at Henry and let his cloaked anger spark her own. “What if it does? It’s no concern of yours.”

“The hell it isn’t,” he stated, the words louder than they ought to be. Others noted their heated exchange and furtively watched. He lowered his voice. “How can ye play the man after what we shared?”

Elizabeth scoffed and went to step into the line. “What we shared was nothing but a mistake that I will be paying penance for the rest of my life. I’m no concern of yours, Lord Muir, so it’s best you keep out of my business.”

…

Henry fought to control his temper as the twists and turns of the dance separated them. He watched Elizabeth with growing anxiety. Why did she hate him so? Why did she deplore their past? Not for one moment did he regret what they’d shared that day down by her family’s lake. The sweet kiss that had turned into so much more, more than he’d ever imagined at the time.

With every day they were apart, memories of Elizabeth, her wit, her temper, and sweet features drew him toward home. He’d thought of little else, and certainly no one had turned his head in New York.

The dance brought them together, and he pulled her closer than he ought. “I had to leave to secure Muirdeen Castle. I returned to England as soon as I could. Why this animosity toward me when I have told ye I’ve done nothing wrong?” He frowned at the air of detachment that settled on her features. How could she feel nothing for him? He pushed down the panic clawing at his gut and waited for her reply.

“I accept the fact that my letter and your correspondence may have gone astray or been meddled with, but you never wrote me once after that. Not once. And here you stroll back into society a wealthy lord and expect me to fall at your feet. Well, I won’t.” Her tone was unlike any he’d ever heard from her before, swathed with distaste and contempt.

“I have changed, Henry. I’m not the girl you once knew, and I don’t want to be her again. I’m sorry, but there is nothing between us and never will be.”