To Catch the Candid Earl: Regency Historical Romance

by Eleanor Keating

  But why should I care what he thinks or notices of me? she chided herself. If I want a library, and a garden, and a fine house with large kitchens and staff to ease my chores, I must aim much higher than a mere solicitor! I must not give up on my aspirations of finding a titled man.

  She strove to replace her preoccupation with Edmund and focused on the quest that had brought her to the library: finding the secret love notes of Lord Byron. Lady Agnes had whispered to her an evening ago, that it was tucked somewhere in there, along with scores of scandalous novels she'd collected over the years; most of which had been gifts from Lady Ursula and an old friend in America.

  Lucy had found one such novel a while ago, and the steamy content had made her blush to the roots of her hair, even though she considered herself liberal and free-spirited. Red as a tomato in the open glare of the sun, she'd been forced to shelve it by the arrival of the earl to the library, and had hurried out immediately, causing him an expression of suspicion and slight bewilderment.

  After a few minutes of searching through a row of heavy tomes, and books on political and parliamentary discourse, Lucy finally found the notes which seemed to have been hidden discreetly behind a law journal.

  "Ha!" she exclaimed in satisfaction, grinning like an explorer who'd just discovered a new course on her chart, as she hurried to her favorite sofa by the window. Settling comfortably, she flipped open the green embossed cover and began to read, distracted after a few seconds by something that sounded like someone walking down the hallway.

  Could it be Edmund? She closed the book, and hurried towards the door, opening it slightly to take a peek outside. There was no one there. Feeling a sharp twinge of disappointment, and an awareness of what she was doing, she returned to the sofa, feeling her face flame up.

  She wasn't exactly stalking him; that would be slightly brazen, wouldn't it? She simply didn't want to miss him on his way out. That was what it was. Somehow convinced she wasn't exactly behaving irregularly, Lucy picked up from where she left off in the book.

  Caught in the engrossing fictional exposé and speculation into Lord and Lady Byron's life, and amused by the writer's sincere effort in proving there had been more to the well-known, popular poet than had been public, the rapid tapping of her finger on the armrest almost prevented her from hearing the closing of a door and heavy footsteps outside.

  Lucy held herself back from rushing to the door as she'd done earlier; instead, she took some seconds to listen as the footsteps drew closer before getting up and heading towards the door. When she emerged from the library, she tried to appear considerably relaxed in contrast to the heavy thudding of her heart due to nervousness, and something else she didn't quite understand.

  Just then, Edmund came around the corner, approaching her slowly. He looked wan, and the politely unrevealing smile he usually wore was gone; replaced by tightness around his mouth that bothered Lucy. Had the earl said something unpleasant to him? She wouldn't put it past the cold, mean-spirited man who seemed to delight in unsettling and reducing a person's worth and self-esteem to the level of sludge.

  It disturbed her composure to see him like that and Lucy knew if she had the privilege to go to the earl and reprimand him for being a callous insufferable man, she would have done so at that moment. She didn't know why, but she felt a fierce protectiveness towards this man, Edmund, whom she hardly knew. It was strange, yet exhilarating, because she had never felt this way towards another person, except her own mother. Perhaps this is how having a brother would have felt? If I hadn't been an only child, perhaps this warmth of feeling could have been part of my early years.

  Before she could inquire as to the reason behind the worry troubling Edmund's features, Sebastian, the butler, came down the stairs,. From the look of disapproval he gave her, Lucy expected nothing less than a report to Mrs. Wyndham who seemed to have spread the fact that she preferred to wait around in corners for the earl's male visitors, rather than attending to her duties.

  Lucy didn't think she had the energy to bear the scolding that would succeed such a report or the well-placed lies that would be spoken just in the hearing of the earl. Neither could she afford the aftermath of such a disastrous occurrence. I have not yet obtained success in my purpose for coming here. Dismissal cannot be risked before I have found a wealthy husband.

  . Turning to Edmund, she asked, "Would you enjoy a plate of bread and cheese before departing?" She saw a flicker of surprise and something else she couldn't decipher in his eyes. Her expectations and hope plummeted slowly to the ground, and she was almost certain he would decline, but he surprised her by turning to the butler, who wore a doubtful expression.

  "That would be most pleasant, Sebastian. I missed lunch, and I find that I'm indeed quite famished. Increasingly so."

  Lucy couldn't help her blush as he turned to give her a smile.

  "Certainly, Mr. Swinton," the butler said, and he was gone in the next heartbeat, leaving them alone.

  Lucy was glad that Edmund had gone along with her suggestion; the best idea she could devise on the spur of the moment, so as to create time for herself and Edmund. She thanked him as she led him to the dining room.

  "It's perfectly alright, Lucy. I am truly hungry," he admitted, the smile growing wider, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners.

  "Was that the only reason you went along with my suggestion, Mr. Swinton?" she asked.

  He placed a hand on her arm to stop her, and she felt the strange jolt she'd felt when he'd steadied her earlier. Her eyes flew up to his and she saw a depth of awareness, and something akin to confusion, in their depth. He took his hand away from her arm as though it had been thrust into hot coals, and drew out a chair for her, before sitting himself.

  "Not really, Miss Lucy." His voice was thick. "I wanted to get the chance to continue our earlier conversation."

  A pleasant feeling spread through Lucy at his words, and she looked up to meet his eyes, feeling shy all of a sudden. Now that was strange. Where'd all her bolstering confidence vanished to when she needed it?

  She was spared a reply by the arrival of a serving maid called Sybil, who came forward with a platter of cold sliced bread and cheese, as well as some boiled meat. Lucy didn't miss the look the maid gave her and knew she'd no doubt run off to tell the housekeeper, but Lucy didn't care at that moment; instead, she took the opportunity to study Edmund closely.

  There was something mesmerizing about his well-chiselled face, and the way he carried himself; a core of strength visible in the firmness of his thick shoulders, and the assuredness of his eyes which held no trace of arrogance or an inflated sense of importance. Edmund's attractiveness wasn't entirely in his looks but in the magnetic force of his presence and the way he stared; that didn't mean his aquiline nose, high cheekbones, and thick mass of brown curls didn't help in presenting him as a handsome man—it just didn't give him the appearance of a dandy. The depth in his eyes prevented any impression of him as a self-important type.

  Lucy caught herself after some seconds of staring intently at the earl's solicitor. It had been a long time since she'd been this close to a gentleman, and it was beginning to tell. She looked away from him just as he caught her gaze; finding the oil portrait of Lord Langford hung directly over the master seat suddenly interesting.

  It was best to keep her thoughts from straying far off into dangerous territories.

  "So, Edmund, what was the matter of grave concern that got you looking so pale earlier in the hallway?" she asked immediately the maid left.

  Edmund paused eating and stilled, a shadow flickering in his eyes for a second before disappearing. Obviously, he hadn't been expecting that question, but he recovered soon enough, wiping his mouth with a napkin, before turning to smile at her. "It's nothing to worry about, Miss Lucy. Just some tiresome business matter, which is about to be sorted out soon. What book do you have there?"

  Lucy noted the swift change of subject and her curiosity was immediately aroused. It was obviou
s the business was quite upsetting to Edmund to warrant the kind of reaction it had done, but she didn't press on, even though she badly wanted to know what it was—the bane of possessing a highly inquisitive mind.

  "It's the Secret Notes on Lord Byron by Amy Bridges. Her ladyship highly recommended it and I finally decided to give it a glance."

  "Quite an interesting book, but do you happen to notice how it reads more like fiction than an authentic exposé?"

  "Well, the story of Lord and Lady Byron is filled with speculations. I'm sure the writer just came up with plausible answers of her own when none seemed to be forthcoming."

  "II understand your conclusion. However, if it was labeled as pure fictional material, I wouldn't be surprised. Yet it is supposed to be truthful, but comes off as storytelling without any basis in facts. There is little credibility to it, although the truth had been my initial expectation," Edmund said matter-of-factly and took a short drink of water.

  Lucy understood what he meant. She'd been expecting something more informative, containing details of what had happened between Lord Byron and his wife, but the story was a well-written fiction.

  The famous poet of the nineteenth century had written beautiful verses that left many a woman taken by flights of fancy and mooning over him, but it was speculated the lord had been a womanizer, a pansy, and a wife-beater ever since his wife moved away from their home and resumed life as a single woman.

  Edmund's interpretation seemed correct and down-to-earth; of course, she reminded herself, he has a trained and decisive legal mind. She found herself intrigued and desired greatly to know more about him even though she disagreed with his assumptions.

  "You sound like an informed critic, Mr. Swinton," she said and watched him grow amused. "Who do you address or look on as a guiding figure, if you don't mind my asking? Is it someone not necessarily absent of flaws, but dogged and worthy of emulation and example?"

  Edmund's smile deepened. "That would of course be my tutor, Mr. Charles Goodman Esq. He is absolutely the fairest man I've ever known and a great advisor too, although he is known to have a weakness for getting into heated arguments with his peers, and speaking at the top of his voice when he is steadfast in his point. Nevertheless, he is just a dear man equivalent to a big pussycat."

  Lucy's heart melted at the depth of feeling evident in Edmund's words. As he spoke about his tutor, his otherwise sombrely placid disposition seemed to catch fire, and she had gotten a glimpse into the vast depth of care and emotion he was capable of.

  She knew that she'd only gotten to see a chip of the man he really was.

  "You seem to be fond of him, Mr. Swinton?" she heard herself say.

  Edmund gave a low rumbling laugh. "I guess I really am fond of the old curmudgeon. I hold him in the highest respect and regard, even though he might seem quite hard to get accustomed to."

  Something stirred in Lucy's heart; something indescribable. She couldn't explain or decipher the emotion, but it was something akin to a longing she'd buried deep within a long while ago. A craving for something surpassing the fickle realms of wealth or social status. A craving for a true heart, she thought; true feeling.

  A craving for Edmund Swinton?

  Lucy shook her head to clear the cobweb of fanciful, unnecessary ideas swirling about inside. She couldn't possibly feel anything more than respect and admiration for someone like Edmund Swinton. There was no doubt that he was a good-looking man who was very intelligent, and a genuinely warm person underneath the reserve, but that was where it all ended.

  That was where it was all supposed to end. She had a big plan that was bigger than conversations about Lord Byron, or the unexplainable thrill when they made contact, or an undeniable mutual relation. Those things were meaningless in relation to her plan, and she would not let them prevent her from pursuing it.

  It hurt to think it, but Edmund was practically nobody. He didn't have enough money to keep her in the kind of style she craved. He wasn't a member of high society nor was he important in the large scale of things. He was just a solicitor, and thinking of him as more than that was highly detrimental to her desire for a better life. Falling in love wasn't in her interests.

  She would do well to remember that, before allowing her head to fill with all sorts of nonsense about the earl's solicitor.

  I will think of him only as the brother I never had, she resolved.

  Chapter Six

  It was just a little past five o'clock in the afternoon, and Lucy had managed to drag Caroline out of the house to accompany her on a walk through Hyde Park. She knew despite her friend's protest, Caroline was secretly glad to be out of the house and away from her duties for a little while.

  Lucy's mind, as she walked, was distracted by the beautiful dress she had on. It was another one of Lady Agnes's old gowns, from when she was much younger but was still in excellent condition. It was among the second gown the older woman had been kind enough to give her, after seeing the state of the gowns she'd brought. The green muslin had turned out splendidly, and so had this gown of Turkey red, with diagonal stripes and a scattering of flowers. The day gown, with a high collar, had a white silk underlay that unfurled beautifully when she moved.

  It was a favorite of Lucy's because it complimented her color so well, and made her eyes appear large and luminous.

  Lucy briefly remembered her happiness in front of the armoire mirror, and smiled. She'd done a short show of twirls and dips, fantasizing about a coming-out party which she'd never had, before Caroline's knock had put a stop to the whimsical nonsense.

  Lucy was well aware that on many occasions, her fantasies and masquerades bled into reality, but she allowed them, rather than dismissing them. She was staking her future on her acting abilities, and was ever conscious of how much she would lose if she let her guard down.

  Which was the reason for the walk in the park that early evening.

  She'd be granted permission from Lady Agnes, who'd waved her off, and subtly mentioned that her chance to catch a beau in the lovely gown was quite high. Lucy hadn't been able to hide her blush. The older woman knew and observed many things; it was almost bizarre.

  "Do you think the viscount is courting Lady Mary Ashgrove now, Miss Lucy? Have you heard anything about that?"

  Lucy felt a swift annoyance at the reminder of Viscount Hilgrove and Lady Mary, and shrugged. "I don't want to be reminded of my failure, Caroline. She must have him now, and there is nothing I can do about it. She has a large dowry, which he will wish to gamble with."

  "At least you don't have to deal with his philandering ways. He is reputed to have a mistress in every part of London, including hordes of married women."

  The maid's words rang with truth. The viscount was a most terrible man, and deep inside Lucy couldn't erase the shame she felt over her willingness to marry to him just to improve her status. Still, she turned to the maid with a frown and said, " Lady Mary who is an arrogant chit!"

  "Well, that she is. They'll suit each other perfectly; both of them vain and materialistic, without any true feeling," Caroline remarked profoundly.

  Lucy didn't castigate Lady Mary a second time. Something in the maid's words had struck two chords within her, and taken her down a slippery slope of introspection, which she found vaguely disturbing, for those words applied soundly to herself. Do I have any true depth of feeling? she wondered. Or am I as materialistic as Lady Mary? But surely, there is nothing wrong with wishing to escape the grind of poverty! As long as I don't abandon my morals …

  The maid's words had also led Lucy down the path to Edmund Swinton, the earl's solicitor; the same path that her thoughts hadn't been able to stop straying into since the previous afternoon. She had realized, just after waking up from a heated dream of riding with him last night, how much of a problem he could turn out to be.

  She found him so damned attractive that it bordered on troubling and distracting; which was something she couldn't afford to be, not if she intended to follow through
with her plans. Riding indeed! she thought as she swished along the park pathway. All I've ever sat on is a plough horse.

  But her feelings for Edward were so extremely bothersome that she couldn't find a way to force them out of her thoughts. I must regard him only as a brother, she resolved again.

  As they reached a park bench and settled down for a spell, Lucy turned to her friend with a hesitant, shy smile.

  "I find the earl's solicitor very attractive, Caroline. What do you think of him?"

  Caroline blinked once, twice, and gave her a sly smile, adjusting her uniform. "Is that so? What do you find attractive about him? I think he is a very nice, modest man who shouldn't be working for someone like the earl."

  "Now that you mention it, that thought did cross my mind," Lucy replied, and blushed under her friend's heavy scrutiny, fiddling with her hand fan.

  Caroline had found Lucy conversing with Edmund in the dining room, and it was she who'd broken up the intense deliberation of comparisons between Lord Byron's works and John Donne's by informing her of the earl's approach.

  Lucy had bid him a quick goodbye, not wanting to find out what the earl would think of seeing them together. The man was highly suspicious and it wouldn't be a surprise if his thoughts took a dark turn.

  Under Caroline's scrutiny, Lucy continued, albeit bashfully, "I think him handsome with intense eyes. He is obviously well-read and factual, even if we seem to have different opinions on some literary works."

  "You both looked spirited when I happened upon you, and very good together," Caroline added, tucking a stray curl back under Lucy's bonnet. "And you're quite right. He is dashing, and would make a great suitor, no doubt."

  Lucy was suddenly taken aback. "Stop all that nonsensical talk, Caroline. I might find Mr. Swinton very attractive but it just wouldn't do. He isn't titled; neither does he have a sizeable income."

  "Don't you think you should reconsider this need to marry a titled man?" Caroline asked pointedly, her lips pursed in a critical manner. "There are many middleclass men who make at least a steady income. Enough to take care of you and buy you pretty things. Without a dowry, you don't have a great deal of chance to marry higher."