Only an Earl Will Do (7 page)

Henry spotted the terrace doors over Elizabeth’s shoulder and towed her outside, ignoring the guests who stole surprised looks their way. Elizabeth attempted to dislodge his grip without success.

“Why can ye not understand?” he asked as he pulled her toward the end of the darkened terrace. “I couldn’t marry you as poor as I was. I admit that was possibly a mistake, but I needed a fortune. I couldn’t marry ye a poor earl looking for a rich wife. I refused to be termed a fortune hunter.” He paused, needing her to understand at least some of why he left and stayed away.

Henry tipped up her chin and made her look at him. The need to kiss her defiant mouth overrode all decorum, and he leaned close. “Tell me ye do not feel this overwhelming attraction, this need when we’re together.”

“I do not.” She looked away, biting her sensual lips.

He growled. “Elizabeth, you lie.”

“You abandoned me, Henry. Left me to defend myself against risks we both took.” Elizabeth pushed him away, and he stumbled. “I wasn’t worth your trouble two years ago, so why the change now?”

“I dinna abandon ye. Someone has played us both fools and I will find out who it was and when I do, they’ll wish they were dead.” He followed her up the terrace, away from the other strolling couples and farther into the shadows. “Furthermore, I find it odd that none of my letters reached you. I wrote often until I realized it was a pointless exercise when I received nothing in return.”

“All contact from you the moment you set foot on that packet ship ceased.” She crossed her arm over her chest. “I cannot forgive you for that.”

Henry ran a hand through his hair and fought for calm. “And now ye’re just being obstinate. You’ve held onto this anger for me for so long that ye can no longer see reason.” Hurt flickered in her eyes and he ignored it. Damn it, he wanted her and no one else. Wanted to kiss all her hurts away and make them better.

“I’m not obstinate.”

“You, Elizabeth, are the stubbornnest Worthingham I know.” He raised his brow. “I would’ve returned had I received ye letter. Of course I would’ve. I loved ye.”

Her surprised gaze met his, and he took her hand, cursing the silk glove that stopped him from feeling her flesh.

“You never said you did before you left.”

A self-deprecating laugh escaped. “No, I did not. I was too much a fool. I thought ye would wait for me, as ye promised, I might remind.” He played with the buttons at her wrist, undoing two so he could touch her. He felt the shiver that ran through her body at his touch. Damn it, the need for her almost buckled his legs.

“I ruined ye, Elizabeth. I would not have touched ye had I not loved ye with all of me heart. You were a duke’s daughter, and your father is an excellent shot, I might remind ye. I certainly dinna want to die before my life had even begun.”

As soon as he said the words, Elizabeth stepped back, shutting him out and putting too much space between them. He frowned, wondering what it was that he’d said that offended her. “Elizabeth, please.” Henry swore as her brother stepped out onto the terrace. Henry moved back, not liking the hard gaze in Elizabeth’s brother’s eyes.

“Go inside, Elizabeth. I wish to speak to Lord Muir for a moment. I’ll meet you for supper shortly.”

Elizabeth cast her brother a glance and then left. Henry let her go, his mind whirling to make sense of it all. He leaned against the terraced balustrade, crossed his arms, and watched as the Marquis of Worth stalked toward him. He braced himself for the coming confrontation.

“Worth,” Henry said as the future Duke of Penworth stopped only a few feet away. He was only slightly shorter than himself but was of similar build. Henry narrowed his eyes and wondered if the conversation would entail words or fisticuffs.

“Lord Muir, I’m surprised to find you outside with my sister.”

Henry shrugged. “I wished to speak to her. Since the terrace sits beyond the ballroom doors, I hardly think it scandalous to talk to her here. And let’s not forget she’s a widow, not a debutante.”

The marquis laughed, the sound far from humorous. The gentleman turned toward the lawns, focusing on some spot in the garden. “Ah, but you see I think it highly improper you should be here at all. After all, your treatment of Elizabeth is hardly worthy of friendship with our family.”

Henry didn’t wish to argue with the man, but what did he mean when they spoke of such poor treatment? When he’d left for America he’d parted as friends with the whole family, Elizabeth included. “I had to work to keep my estate in Scotland. I would think even you would do such a thing should Dunsleigh ever be threatened by debt.”

The marquis scoffed. “I would never allow my estates to stoop to such a level in the first place. Nor will I allow my sister to marry a man who is not fit to wipe her silk slippers.”

“You were always too high in the instep, Worth.” Henry’s temper slipped a little at the insult.

“It would be wise of you to keep your distance from my family, especially Elizabeth. She has moved on since her youth’s folly that nearly ruined her. She does not look for an association with an impoverished earl.”

Henry stilled at the word “ruined.” He knew Elizabeth had told her parents of her growing affections toward him, but did her
siblings
know of their liaison? And why would Elizabeth have said anything to her siblings at all? It was none of their business. A thought niggled at his mind, but he couldn’t capture it. “I am no longer impoverished.” He paused, running a hand over his jaw, feeling the light stubble of regrowth already. “And what do ye know of Elizabeth and me?”

The marquis looked almost feral. “All of it,” he stated.

A cold chill swept down Henry’s spine. Why would Elizabeth tell anyone of what they did? Unless something he didn’t want to contemplate had happened. “In the hopes this conversation does not decline to the point where I knock ye off ye polished boots, you’d better explain the meaning behind ye words.”

Worth laughed. “Slipping further into your natural brogue, Muir. Not at all well to do in this society. Perhaps you should leave for Scotland and return to England only when you can speak correctly.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed, his hand clenching into a fist. “And perhaps ye ought pull yourself out of your own ass so ye can see daylight and remove the pasty shade of white your skin resembles.”

“Typical Scot, always looking for a fight.”

Henry’s temper snapped and before he could think better of it, his fist had connected with the marquis’s nose. No sooner had he made contact did Worth tackle him to the ground. Punches rained, and they rolled across the terrace. Henry grunted as Worth landed a solid blow in the pit of his stomach. He retaliated with a solid uppercut to the man’s pompous jaw.

On it went until the faint sound of raised voices intruded into their brawl. Hands clamped about his shoulders, his cousin Richard pulling him off Worth. Henry stilled and looked up at the gathered crowd who stood in watch at their less-than-gentlemanly behavior.

Ladies swathed in silk stood with hands covering their mouths. Gentlemen with amused grins looked on with interest. With a groan, Henry stood and dusted off his breeches, noting Worth doing the same. He looked up and saw Elizabeth, her face uncommonly pale in the moonlight, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

Worth came to stand before him, wiping his bloodied nose with his sleeve. “Take heed of my warning, Muir. Or you’ll find yourself back in Scotland without any society contacts and no wife in the foreseeable future.”

“Go to hell,” Henry said, watching as Elizabeth was led away by Lord Dean. Where would he go from here? Henry had thought he was doing the right thing when he’d left for America. Had he been wrong? Should he have married Elizabeth before he left and be damned his poverty-stricken status? Her dowry, grand as it was, would’ve only gone so far. Within five years such funds would have dried up. His estate in Scotland was large and took a lot of coin. Why did Elizabeth not understand this?

Henry swore, pushing his way through the throng, and strode down the steps. He’d had enough of watching her be courted for one night. He needed to get a grip on his temper before he lost all decorum and argued with her before the ton. It was bad enough he’d fought with her brother. No doubt with such a show of base manners, the event would spread around the drawing rooms of the ton before noon tomorrow.

He needed solitude, needed to decide what direction he would take next. Henry rounded the front steps of the home and called for his carriage, cringing at his less-than-polite tone to the footman. He needed a whisky. Drowning oneself in spirits seemed the thing right at this moment.

Chapter Five

“What do you think you were doing fighting with Henry like that?”

“So it’s Henry now?” Josh wiped his nose to stem the constant stream of blood. “You would call that debaucher of innocence by his given name?” he asked. “Look at my nose. It’s broken, I’m sure. It will probably be crooked now thanks to your Scottish ass.”

Elizabeth looked out the carriage window and sighed. She still could not fathom what she’d witnessed. Her brother and Henry fighting it out like ruffians at the Standley ball. Their time would’ve best been spent at Gentleman Jackson’s, an entertainment that was most sought out by the highest of the ton, but not at a ball! And now her brother and the man she’d once adored had fought like common criminals. She masked a shudder over what her parents would say once they heard of this. “Does it matter what I call him? You cannot go about town picking fights with other men of the peerage.”

“Why not?” Josh asked, looking petulant. “He started it.”

Elizabeth shook her head, not believing that for a second. “And you didn’t insult him? Why then did he respond in such a violent manner? He was never a violent man.”

Josh met her eyes. “Well, of course I insulted him, but he deserved it after what he did to you.”

Elizabeth started at his words. “You did not mention Samuel, did you? Please tell me you did not.”

Josh shook his head. “No, but what does that matter? He knows of the child and still has not apologized to the family for his slight to you…to all of us.”

She sighed, wondering how it was that she could get herself into so much strife with very little effort. “I spoke to him about the letter and why he never returned. He stated he has no knowledge of such missive, and he denies ever writing one to us in return in relation to our plight. He knows nothing of Samuel.”

Josh met her gaze, his face a mask of shock as the streetlamps cast shadows within the carriage. “And you believe such a lie? Do not let him play you a fool again, Elizabeth.”

“Of course I will not, but don’t you see how odd this is? Should Henry know of Samuel he would demand to see him. To be part of his life and perhaps even refuse my son the chance to inherit Newland Estate. But he has not, which makes me believe he’s telling the truth, and that he does not know.” She sighed. “And do you not see what strife Henry not knowing of the letter has come to? He could ruin me.” Her voice broke on a sob and she sucked in a breath of air, needing to calm down. Tears would not help the situation, only clear, level-headed thinking.

“Bloody hell, Elizabeth.”

Her brother’s words summed up her situation quite perfectly. “I know. I don’t know what to do.”

“Who does he suspect of this interference?”

“His uncle, and he has written to him. If his uncle is the one to have taken the notes and tells Henry of why I requested him to return in the first place, he’ll kill me.”

Her brother raised his brow. “I don’t believe it to be of that severity, but still, it’s bad enough. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. His uncle has yet to reply, and he may not even remember as to what we wrote.”

Elizabeth snorted, a most unladylike sound, but in this situation she no longer cared about etiquette. She’d certainly not cared about rules and propriety three years ago. “Do you really believe his uncle would not remember Henry had left a duke’s daughter pregnant? Do be serious, Josh, or I will punch you in the nose myself.”

He held up his hands in mock defeat. “Easy, love. All I’m saying is that it is a possibility. All is not lost yet.”

“There is no future between Lord Muir and myself, so I think under the current situation that it would be best for Henry and Samuel if they did not know of each other. Samuel is happy at Newland Estate and Henry will soon be happy and married in Scotland.”

“What did you say to Muir as to why you wrote him? I assume he asked.”

“I told him I thought myself in love with him and that only he would do as my husband. And Father, doting on us as he did, requested he return and agree to an alliance.”

Her brother looked at her, and she didn’t like the silence her answer garnered. “What? Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“You won’t like it.”

“I don’t care. Tell me.” She clasped her fan tight in her palm, her brother’s answer worth more than she thought.

“He deserves to know the truth. Hell, I would want to know in his situation. If, for whatever reason, his uncle does not disclose that information, that is, if the uncle had anything to do with it in the first place, he ought to know he is a father.”

Elizabeth slumped back in the squabs. That thought, the very one that haunted her every waking moment, said aloud, was even worse than thinking it. Damn it. She hated it when her brother spoke sense. “But can’t you see that I can’t tell the truth? If Marcus’s family finds out about my betrayal to them and Henry, for that matter, Samuel will be the one to pay. And Marcus doted on the boy; they were the cutest pair. I cannot ruin the memory of that in my mind to tame the guilt I have.”

“It’s not all your fault, Elizabeth. Someone played a game with our family, and if Lord Muir is unable to gain confirmation that it was his uncle, I should like to know who it was myself.”

She rubbed her temple, a slight thumping starting behind her eyes. “Very well, let us wait and see what Henry’s uncle replies, and then I’ll know what’s to be done. And I will also think on it, regarding telling Henry the truth no matter what comes of his reply from his family. But please, as my dear brother, do not go getting into any more brawls on my behalf.”

“The hell I won’t. You’re my sister. I’m the future head of this family, and I will look out for all of you.” He paused as the coach rounded a corner into the heart of Mayfair. “But I promise to behave the next time we meet.” He sighed. “What a blasted mess.”

“Yes, your nose is quite awful looking at present.”

Josh growled but did not reply. Elizabeth gazed out to the terraced houses of Mayfair. The homes were a blur as her mind fought to comprehend what her brother and Henry had done, of what she should do, and what would happen in a matter of weeks.

Blasted mess indeed…

…

Some days later Elizabeth received another flower arrangement from her anonymous admirer, delivered in the same manner and again without a card. This time, Elizabeth took it down to the kitchen and handed it to Mrs. Arthur, who said it would make a lovely table decoration for the staff. Elizabeth headed toward the library and without knocking, entered.

“Oh, forgive me, I didn’t know anyone was in here,” Elizabeth said, turning to leave.

“No, wait, Elizabeth, come in.” Her brother answered in a voice as sweet as honey.

Elizabeth wondered what her brother was up to using such a tone, but closed the door as asked and smiled at Lord Dean who sat in the chair opposite her brother. She came and sat beside him, folding her hands in her lap. “Was there something you wanted, Josh?”

“Nothing in particular. I just wanted to know what the parcel was in the front foyer.”

Elizabeth grimaced. “Another flower arrangement, accompanied yet again without a card.”

“Do you have any idea who is behind these offerings?” Lord Dean asked, his attention fixed on her more than she liked.

“I do, and there is something I wish to discuss with you, Josh, but…” She frowned, not really wanting to speak openly in front of Lord Dean.

“But what, Elizabeth?” Josh sat forward, as eager as ever to meddle in her life.

“I will come back later when you’re not busy.”

Lord Dean stood, pulling his gloves from his pocket. “Stay, Lady Newland. I had best be on my way. I promised my sister I would accompany her to the theater tonight.”

Elizabeth smiled at his lordship’s kindness and bade him good-bye, relieved to be alone with her brother with what she was about to disclose. Nerves skittered about in her stomach as to how Josh would react to more news.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Elizabeth took a fortifying breath. “Two weeks ago I received an offer of marriage from Lord Riddledale, which you’ll be pleased to know I refused. And furthermore, he is the gentleman sending me the gifts.”

Her brother laughed, throwing himself back in his chair. “Something tells me he’s not accepted your answer as final. Am I right?” he asked, laughing some more.

“He has not. Do you think you could use your influence to keep him away from me? He’s really starting to be bothersome at balls, and you know I do not wish to marry again, and certainly not to Riddledale in any case.”

“I will speak to him for you, of course. Consider his pestering of you dealt with.”

She smiled, leaning back in her chair. “Thank you. I was hoping you would say that.”

“Have you heard from Lord Muir as to the missing letter?”

“No, nothing yet, but I can’t help but feel it will be soon.”

Her brother stood and came around the desk, taking her hand. “No matter what Muir ends up knowing, or what he thinks, or how he acts, know that your family will stand behind you, and nothing will happen to injure Samuel. I’ll not allow that.”

Elizabeth stood, pulling her brother into an embrace. “You’re the best little brother a sister could have. Thank you.”

He hugged her back. “You’re welcome.”

…

Elizabeth entered the Featherstone’s ball, and her eyes widened at the vision before her. Hundreds of candles sprinkled light throughout the grand-proportioned room. Gold leaf framed every painting and fire surround. Hothouse blooms filled the air with wonder, making the outdoors seem like it lived within.

The terrace doors stood open, and from where Elizabeth stood she could see people milling about outside, enjoying the balmy night air. With the orchestra starting up a quadrille, she stepped into the throng of guests and looked about for people she knew.

“Ah, my dear Lady Newland. How lovely you look this evening.”

All but this person.
She cringed, pasting a smile on her lips and turning toward his lordship. “Lord Riddledale.” Elizabeth brought forward all of her good manners that were instilled in her over the years as she fought not to give him the cut direct. “It is lovely to see you, my lord. Are you enjoying yourself this evening?”

“I am now that you have arrived,” he whispered conspiratorially, moving closer than he ought.

His smile made her skin want to crawl away and hide. She looked about, hoping no one else heard his inappropriate words.

“Perhaps you would accompany me to the terrace? I would like to be alone with you if I may.” His lordship held out his arm.

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I really ought to pay my respects to our host then find my brother. He is expecting to meet me here.”

Elizabeth stilled when his lordship placed her hand onto his arm and pulled her along with him. “Well, allow me to converse with you as I take you to your brother.”

Elizabeth swallowed her unease. “If you wish, my lord.”

They walked, edging the dancers on the floor. Elizabeth spotted Henry among the guests already taking advantage of the talented musicians, and her stomach knotted when she noticed him dancing with Miss Andrews. A moment later Josh came into view, and some of her unease left her before Lord Riddledale pulled her to a stop some distance from him.

“Lord Muir is certainly enjoying society and all the niceties wealth entails.”

Elizabeth frowned at the menace, which laced his every word. And now she understood why Lord Riddledale hated him so much. She looked toward the throng of dancers and watched with a steel-encased heart as Henry twirled a more-than-willing American about the floor. “I believe Lord Muir is enjoying the season, as are his guests and everyone else here, I hope.”

He made a noncommittal grunt, his mouth turning up with distaste. “His years spent in England before his trip to America have taught him how to act a gentleman, I suppose. No Scot could be termed as such if not for this great country and our manners.” He pulled her closer than he ought, and the smell of sweat made her stomach churn. “To think he assaulted you while living under your father’s roof is beyond reproach. I ought to call him out.”

Elizabeth stilled, her racing heart pounding too hard against her ribs. “You’re mistaken, my lord. Lord Muir never assaulted me.”

He raised his brow, his eyes void of any emotion. The dead look on his face made dread claw up her spine. “I know he did. I saw you. Both of you the day you gave yourself to him by the lake.” He shook his head, distaste clouding his eyes. “How could you do such a thing, Lady Newland?”

Elizabeth looked about, sure everyone was watching them, but they were not. The ton, frivolous and fickle, continued to thrive about them as her world crumbled around her feet. “You watched us? You should’ve made your presence known, sir.”

He wiggled his brows, and she fought not to be sick. “And miss the show? I may be a gentleman, Elizabeth, but I’m still a man. And you were worth watching.”

She yanked her arm free, her hand flexing, wanting to slap his face. Her brother’s concerned look gave her pause, and she smiled to hide her unease. “How dare you?”

“Oh, I dare, madam. And not only do I dare, you will be my wife because of what I saw. Do you understand?”

“I will never marry you. Ever.”

He laughed, and it was tinged with madness. “You have no choice. You lay in a bed of grass and now, my fair lady, you will lie in my bed for the rest of your days. Make peace with it. I do not want to create a scene here or in the future with you, but I will have you.”

“Good evening to you.” Elizabeth walked off, ignoring as best she could the mocking laughter that followed her every step. Tears smarted behind her eyelids and she cursed the day she gave herself to Henry. How could she have thrown her innocence so carelessly away without any thought to what her actions could create? A bloody mess in the future, that’s what.

She smiled at Josh as she came to stand beside him. He nodded in welcome and then continued on with his conversation about the excellent cattle going up for auction at Tattersalls.

The multitude of guests flowed about them as she thought of ways in which to leave early, the ball no longer holding any importance to her. Everywhere she looked it seemed people were staring at her, dismissing her as a wanton woman who gave the most valuable prize away before marriage. She swallowed her rising nausea knowing she had indeed done just that.