The Cheer in Charming an Earl (The Naughty Girls) (14 page)

Claws, indeed. Now she had her jaws clamped on his jugular, too, and with her giant of a brother standing over the both of them, Grantham had no
hope
of escape. Why had he stupidly admitted to kissing her? And oh, ho, he’d gone much further than that! He’d made her a bloody offer of
marriage
. There might as well be a snare around his leg, for he wasn’t eluding the marriage trap this time. Not if he wanted to keep what was left of his reputation intact.

He was going to marry her, and then he was going to be done with her. But before he did any of that, he needed to ask one last question. His mouth was so dry and his heart pounded so hard, he almost couldn’t croak, “Dear
God,
why
me?
”

ELINOR EXTENDED her hand toward his shoulder but she knew better than to touch him. He hated her. And she deserved his contempt. Even if she hadn’t known not to reach for him, her brother’s expression beseeched her to leave Grantham be. Touching him now would only set him off, when she wanted desperately for him to understand.

He’d asked for her reason; she must be courageous and give it to him. She straightened her shoulders as best she could, given her sense of futility. Her gaze didn’t waver from the stark black greatcoat hugging his shoulders perfectly, or the wisps of blond hair at his nape. “I observed you on the day you rode up to our smithy,” she said, though it wasn’t much of an explanation. Nothing she could say would ever sound sensible to a man who could have his pick of suitable ladies, or even choose not to marry at all. “I learned you are unattached and I believed we would suit, should we chance to know each other.”

“So you ensured we would have that opportunity.” Grantham’s angry summation was loud enough to be clear even from behind. He dropped one hand from his head and set it on his hip. He shook his head and continued to stare in the direction of the carriage house entrance. “I should have seen it.”

“I’m sorry,” she answered. “I should have told you.”

He turned to face her. Never had she seen him look so bleak. That was what struck her; it wasn’t simply that he was angry with her, but that he was
disappointed
in her. He’d believed in her, and she’d lied to him.

“Told me?” he said. “Why? Do you think I would have chuckled and forgiven such an appalling misdeed? I wouldn’t have, I assure you. Where would you be, then, had you confessed before I proposed? At least now, you shall
have
your prize.”

“Oh!” She pressed her knuckles to her lips at his awful, awful words. Then she turned and fled, because what he’d said was true; from the moment she’d descended on his house, she’d been doomed to failure. She could have Grantham through trickery, but she could never have his heart. Not this way.

She stopped suddenly. Quickly, before she could reconsider, she spun to face him again. From this distance she could see Grantham and her brother standing immobile where she’d left them. Bravely, she set aside her certainty that neither man had intended to follow her and called out, “You are hereby un-affianced, Grantham Wendell. I am jilting you.”

Then she made for the house.

AUNT MILLIE found Elinor in bed an hour later. “The earl was not understanding,” her aunt surmised, gliding into Elinor’s room. “I applaud your pluck in telling him, nevertheless.”

Elinor buried her head into her pillow. She couldn’t bear to look at her aunt. “He loathes me.”

Aunt Millie pulled the coverlet away from Elinor’s shoulders. “I was unable to discern much more than
mmmphmlebffle
. Whatever you said, it’s of no consequence. What is important is that we leave. Moping about his house won’t win his affection. Distance and time are your only hope now.”

Elinor lifted herself onto her forearms and looked over her shoulder. “We have no conveyance of our own. How can we leave?”

“I have a feeling he’ll lend us his carriage yet.” Aunt Millie offered her a wan smile, then turned and went to the door. “I’ll send up word soon enough. In the meantime, wash your face and do your best with your hair. Men detest weeping.”

Elinor sat up and curled her legs under her as her aunt closed the door behind her. If men hated tears, they shouldn’t make women cry. But remembering how much of her current misery was her own fault only brought a fresh wave of waterworks, and it was another quarter hour before she was able to rise and use the cool water in the washbasin to wipe the misery from her face.

When she was finally summoned to the foyer, she took the curving stair one step at a time with her shoulders held back. She needn’t have held herself so rigid. Grantham wasn’t there. Nor did he make an appearance when they were bundled into his carriage and sent off.

Nor did she see him for the next two days. Not that she could have done, as she never left her bed. But on the third morning, she wandered into her aunt’s parlor and stopped dead in the doorway. “Lord de Winter! What in heaven’s name are you doing here?”

Was Grantham here, too?

She didn’t see him. But she didn’t see her aunt or her brother, either, and she was sure they were in the house.

Lord de Winter bowed briefly. “Lord Chelford didn’t accompany me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh?” Not that she cared, of course. She didn’t give a fig for him anymore. Oh, and there it was, another lie! She cared
desperately
. Not the girlish infatuation she’d set out with, but an abiding affection she feared would last the rest of her life.

“He doesn’t know I’m here, actually,” Lord de Winter said. “It’s been a bit of an adventure to slip away. But now that I’m here, perhaps you would take a walk with me? What I have to say is not for listening ears.”

Though she would have preferred to see Grantham rather than his friend, this was far too intriguing an invitation to decline. She nodded and allowed him to escort her to the front door and into the daylight.

When they were safely out of earshot of the house, Lord de Winter withdrew his arm and faced her. “Lord Chelford is a miserable wretch. I hope you realize what you’ve done to him.”

“Sir! I didn’t follow you out of doors to be reprimanded.” Her words shot out on little puffs of steam.

He laughed low. “I didn’t mean to chastise you for it. I thought you should know that he misses you.”

She was left speechless by that.

Lord de Winter hooked his index finger under her chin and lifted. She obediently closed her open mouth. Then he sighed and set his hands on his hips, parting his greatcoat at the waist to reveal a jet black waistcoat beneath it. “Lord Chelford and I have been friends many years. More’s the pity, as he would have made any lady a good husband were it not for my poor influence. But now I have the occasion to bring him some happiness, as he’s done for me more times than I can count. Elinor, you must un-jilt him immediately.”

“I can’t!” She glanced away. “I won’t force him to marry me.”

Lord de Winter frowned. “But you must do something.”

Her bark of humorless laughter caused him to tilt his head. “What?” he asked.

“I think I’ve done plenty, my lord. Some might say I’ve gone to great lengths.”

He seemed to consider that as he offered her his arm again. “Why him? Surely there was a butcher’s boy or miller’s son who would have made you a fine husband.”

A commoner, he meant. But of course, such a man was within her reach. She fell into step beside Lord de Winter. To think, for years and years there had been no young men, titled or otherwise; no dukes, nor even old, fat barons, and now she had walked on two handsome earls’ arms within a week! “There wasn’t anyone, my lord. Lord Chelford had the misfortune of being the first unattached gentleman to pass through our village in many years. He was kindhearted and handsome, but I feel very nitwitted to admit I was husband-hunting a man I knew nothing about.”

“And now?” Lord de Winter looked hard at the side of her face. “Do you feel you know him?”

Her skin heated. She remembered the melancholy in Grantham’s voice as he’d told her about his late sister, and his playful way of teasing her into smiling. She didn’t know every fact about the man, but she felt an affinity for him. And his kisses! She couldn’t forget those. “I feel I would like to know him,” she answered carefully.

“Good. Then we shall have to arrange for you to be in each other’s company in a way that doesn’t seem stilted. Not,” he amended, “that I would resort to more deception. I simply mean that locking the two of you in a drawing room before dinner will only result in an awkward three-quarters of an hour spent.”

Elinor felt a bubble of hope. “Why are you doing this for me?”

He shrugged. “You made him happy. He forgot about…things…when he was with you. But unlike the time he spends with women of a certain ilk, he didn’t loathe himself after. It was like he was whole again.”

She bit her lip. “Why me?” She held her breath and waited. If Lord de Winter truly believed Grantham cared for her, he would know the reason, wouldn’t he?

Lord de Winter shrugged again, as if none of this mattered to him. “You cause him to remember what it’s like to be innocent. No bad memories. No concerns. You’re an intrepid minx unafraid to try new experiences, though deep down, you’re scared to your toes. He needs that. The world can be a frightening place when you are afraid of making a misstep.”

Her heart overflowed with appreciation for Lord de Winter’s description of her. When he said it, she didn’t sound foolish and rash. She sounded dauntless. “Thank you, my lord.”

He grinned. A smile so virile and unexpected, it stole her breath. “Now to make Lord Chelford see it that way. I think I have just the idea…”

IT WAS time to return to London. Though Grantham had spent Christmastide at Chelford every year since he’d inherited his uncle’s estate, never had the holiday felt so interminable.

He moved to an icy windowpane to reassure himself the snowstorm hadn’t resumed when he wasn’t looking and was relieved to see it hadn’t. Good. He ought to be able to set off at first light tomorrow, assuming de Winter didn't make a fuss about returning so soon. The earl was never in a hurry to get back to the city.

Grantham was. Especially this year. He pushed aside an unwelcome memory of the blue-eyed chit down the road, reminding himself that no matter how intriguing he’d found her, she’d thought nothing of risking life and limb to deceive him into marriage. That wasn’t the sort of woman he ought to waste his time on. There were plenty of women more suitable, even if he found them all boring to the point of tears.

He set about planning his return to Town, rather than dwelling too long on Elinor. If the thought of his homecoming left him with a deadened sensation in his belly, it was no worse than how he’d felt when he’d left, and it was certainly no worse than he’d felt yesterday. At least he knew what to expect from the city. Its games he knew by rote, and they weren’t dangerous ones. The country had proved twice now to be plagued by peril.

No, it was Town life for him. Upon his arrival, he intended to find Tewseybury and Scotherby and get rotting drunk. Once that was done, he’d serve Steepleton an entire dish of humble pie, or else he’d never hear the end of it. With that most difficult task accomplished, he’d find a pretty lightskirt who wouldn’t ask too many questions and pull her onto his lap. Then he’d lose himself in feckless games of hazard until no proper lady would consider attaching herself to a man who spent his coin on wagers and women.