To Catch the Candid Earl: Regency Historical Romance

by Eleanor Keating

  Edmund wondered what her story really was. He knew there had to have been a deep reason why she chose to remain in spinsterhood. He refused to believe it was because there hadn't been an influx of suitors. The woman was beautiful now, with thick dark hair and arresting sky blue eyes that seemed to pierce straight into his soul, picking apart every hidden secret.

  She had a huge presence and he'd seen no-one who was immune to her charms, except for the Earl of Langford.

  There was bad blood there, so he wasn't the least bit surprised.

  The woman's relationship with her nephew reminded him of a constantly constricting and contracting rubber band; filled with tension and the ability to sting.

  Lady Agnes said, "I have to leave you now. I need to stroll in the gardens; welcome some good air into my lungs. It's best to take advantage of the good days like this one because they are few and far between." Lady Agnes was assisted off the divan by the maid who held her arm and provided support.

  "There is nothing like the present, my lady," Edmund commiserated, as he got up in acknowledgment and followed her.

  "Lucy should be down in a few moments," the lady told him, before lowering her voice to a whisper, her eyes twinkling. "She's been fussing about leaving me alone, especially at this point, and it took a while to convince her to run along and get ready."

  Edmund was suddenly filled with concern.

  He hadn't thought too long about Lucy's job as companion to the sick woman. She had an obligation to her job and duty before anything else, and he'd been thoroughly unfair by not considering that.

  "I'm truly sorry, Lady Longford. I should have thought to request your permission before calling on her," Edmund hastily apologized.

  Lady Agnes waved him off in her usual airy fashion. "It's perfectly alright. My health is failing and there's no certainty of the future. I mean to see my Lucy safely settled, and taken care of, before anything else. Sometimes she acts as though she's so strong and capable that she forgets she needs to be taken care of too."

  "I'm sorry but don't speak that way, my lady. You will be fine in no time, and throwing another of your own infamous women's parties. In all my life, I've never known a more vivacious lady than you," Edmund said sincerely.

  Anyone who could face down the Earl of Langford on many occasions was superior in his books.

  "Thank you for the kind words, dear boy, but we can't deny the inevitable. You young people enjoy yourself and have a wonderful time," Lady Agnes said with a wistful smile, before walking out of the front parlor, supported on the maid's arm.

  Edmund felt slightly subdued in the wake of her departure. He found himself lost in thoughts, until the arrival of Lucy banished them and sent all the sad, unpleasant memories scurrying away.

  She looked beautiful and exuded warmth that was beyond dazzling.

  The deep purple satin gown, trimmed with white lace at the hem and neckline, made her appear like royalty, and Edmund couldn't tear his eyes away from her as she approached with a smile.

  He almost forgot to get to his feet, till she was standing almost next to him.

  "Hello, Miss Lucy. Permit me the liberty of expressing how radiantly beautiful you look this afternoon."

  Lucy blushed becomingly. "Permission granted, Edmund. You always know the right words to say, don't you?"

  Edmund smiled and reached for her hand, bringing it reverently to his lips for a kiss. He didn't miss the heightened color in her cheeks. "That is because they are all true. As I told you before, I don't have to fabricate compliments when speaking to you because they are all true."

  Lucy didn't say another word as he ushered her outside to the waiting hackney he'd hired, but there was a pleased smile on her face which told him he was doing something right.

  As they got comfortable in the back of a hackney, Lucy asked, "Where are we going? I know you said it was a surprise but I'm dying to know."

  Her expression was a cross between a pout and repressed curiosity. She looked almost like a child, with her ardent expression. He wanted nothing more than to keep her under his protection and take care of her.

  Careful not to scare her with the force of his feelings, he smiled and turned away. "It's a surprise, my dear. Although, I don't know if it will suit your taste. It's a place I love to go when I want to loosen the kinks in my body."

  "Now you've only served to heighten my curiosity. I can't wait till we get there."

  Edmund found his gaze drawn back to her enthusiastic countenance. He was taking her to the Stepping Grounds; an Almack's assembly imitation, except dances were held without the strict formalities of society affairs. It was a place where everyone intermingled: merchants, soldiers, and men of trade together with their wives and paramours. Children of gentries were known to sneak into the dances in their maid disguises, and had an unrestrained good time, not having to bother about maintaining appearance or regarding propriety. It wasn't a surprise why the place was popular. The dances were boisterous and wild, the music unconventional and loud.

  Everyone laughed, danced, and sweated, while the alcohol flowed without cease, provided you could spare few shillings to keep it so.

  Although Edmund attended the dances at the stepping ground frequently, he was averse to how rowdy and rough the place could become at times. He usually made it a point to leave immediately the number of men in their cups began to multiply, and they began to take bolder liberties with the women who weren't selling their favors.

  There was usually a constable or two hanging around the hall during dances, in case things got a little reckless and unruly, but there had been occasions when the constables wandered away, or got involved with the dances rather than doing their jobs.

  Edmund's plan was to introduce Lucy to some things he did for fun, by dancing for a short while, and then going, on their next outing, going to a coffeehouse he frequented.

  When they arrived at the Stepping Grounds, which was nestled between a bazaar and a hunting goods store, a jig was playing and a large number of people were on the dance floor, moving along to the six over eight dance movements which were quite popular. Those not currently dancing lined the sides and corners of the room in conversation, most armed with goblets and glasses of drinks.

  "My, the energy in this place is addictive," Lucy declared, looking around the large, teeming hall with twinkling eyes that made Edmund smile.

  "It almost feels like a country dance, complete with the music."

  Edmund nodded in agreement, steering her carefully away from the path of two drunken men, who gave raucous laughs, jostling their tankards of ale in the process.

  "Take a look, Edmund." Lucy clutched at his sleeve, calling his attention to a man that looked to be heavily in his cups, trying to steal a kiss from a handsome, heavyset woman in a blue velvet gown and a colorful turban.

  Edmund saw the scene play out in his mind, before it happened. "Watch, Lucy, he is going to get some hard lessons in improper behavior in one, two—"

  The man fell forward, lips pursed in a pout, narrowly missing the woman's mouth; she pulled back her fist and planted a good one straight on his jaw, sending the man sprawling to the floor. There was a collective gasp in the room, followed by laughter as a cheer went up for the woman.

  Edmund turned to find Lucy laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face. She laughed like his sister, Mary Josephine, who had never been able to control her mirthful tears in fits of giggles.

  He was smiling broadly, but not because of the man passed out cold on the floor a short distance away—this was a popular occurrence at the dances and he'd seen his fair share of it. His smile was from watching Lucy's beautiful animated face. When they'd entered the hall, he'd felt her grow tense, and had been plagued with worries that she didn't approve of the place. Now she looked to have relaxed considerably from the spectacle they'd just witnessed and wasn't clinging to him as tightly as she'd been doing.

  "Would you like a dance, Miss Middleton?" he asked immediately, eager to
hold her in his arms and feel some of the warmth and excitement he felt coming from her.

  Her eyes lit up, almost teasingly. "Yes, Mr. Swinton. I thought you'd never ask."

  Edmund laughed, loving this version of Lucy: carefree, cheeky, and bold. This was the Lucy who'd caught and held him fast at the doorway of the earl's residence, just a few weeks ago.

  They approached the rowdy dance floor, full of moving bodies, and managed to find a small space, right in the middle.

  When Edmund took Lucy into his arms, it felt like she'd belonged there forever. Delicious thrills snaked through his body at her softness and warmth. It was almost like everyone else faded away and the music stopped playing, leaving the two of them alone.

  Edmund had felt love once, and when it had gone sour, it had felt like a part of his heart had been taken away forever. Holding Lucy felt like everything he'd lost was coming back slowly to him, and he wanted the moment to last forever.

  Looking into her eyes, he met a myriad of feelings which he found difficult to interpret and he wished he knew how she was feeling. If she was feeling exactly as he did at that moment.

  He had never been a man taken with foolish romantic sentiments. He thought himself logical and guided with his head in the matters of the heart, but Lucy had shot it all into oblivion. He wanted her more than anything else, he wanted to be the reason why she smiled, and be the one she told all of her deepest, darkest secrets to.

  He wanted to protect her every moment, and have her face light up with a smile whenever he returned from work in the evenings.

  But somewhere in his heart, he also felt insecure. What if he couldn't afford everything she wanted? He'd promised himself not to judge her character before, but it was a reality that had gotten clearer after their outing at the park.

  She'd watched all the goings-on across the park in Rotten Row. He'd seen the hunger in her eyes and the desire playing across her features.

  She was the daughter of a baronet, after all. If fate hadn't been so unkind to her, she would have at least made a good marriage to a baron, a knight, or—if her family was well connected—an earl or viscount was possible.

  What was she doing with someone like him anyway? Edmund felt his thoughts turning sour and his mood darkening, but all of it faded away, when his eyes reconnected with Lucy's.

  Currents rushed between them as he found her eyes seeking entrance into his innermost thoughts, trying to prove his actions and find out his true intentions. In turn, he sought her opinion of him, her real thoughts about them being together. Maybe there was a little seeking of approval on his part, an inquiry to assuage the taunting questions in his mind about being enough for her. He didn't want her to be with him only because there were no other choices for her. He wanted her to choose him, just as he'd chosen her.

  Suddenly, the intense connection, rife with unspoken questions, was broken as they were bumped from behind, forcing them closer to each other, narrowly missing stepping on each other's toes.

  They separated with quick apologies, and promptly burst into laughter as the music changed.

  "This place is a boatload of fun, but one thing it isn't is merciful on shoes," Lucy commented between laughs.

  "The idea is to grow harder toes after a little while, I guess," he replied humorously, and steered Lucy gently off the dance floor to the punch bowl where he poured her a drink to calm her heating face.

  After she'd drunk her fill, she turned back to him with a wide grin and asked, "Can we return to the dance floor? It is a great deal of fun. I can't remember the last time I danced so care-freely, or had such a good time."

  Edmund couldn't help a smile. He'd half-expected her to demand they leave the hall for a nicer place or return home, but she'd surprised him by laughing it off.

  It only went to show that underneath everything lay a woman who wanted to relax and enjoy some fun. Lucy was really the type of woman he loved and desired; a woman capable of laughing away adversity despite everything happening around her.

  He had been reading too much into the things he thought were problems. It wasn't wrong for Lucy to desire fine things and enormous wealth; almost every woman did, including his mother. It wasn't supposed to be a flaw, except if they were willing to go to crazy lengths to get it, such as scheming, selling themselves for favors, and acting terribly to other people who stood in their way.

  The problem obviously was with him and his errant thoughts. He was jaded by his past experience with the first woman he'd ever given his heart to, and was casting his doubts on Lucy. Yet the women were nothing alike, and he had to stop comparing them.

  Half an hour later, they left the dance, grateful to be outside; the cold evening breeze was a welcome relief after the heat of the packed hall.

  Edmund took Lucy's hand and walked with her down the busy street to find a hackney and see her off safely home.

  They chatted and laughed over the hilarious things they'd noticed at the dance, still highly strung from the wild time they'd spent together.

  Edmund found he'd noticed a great deal of things about Lucy throughout the course of the evening.

  She had a free, unrestrained laugh that sounded almost innocently childlike, and she laughed often when she was happy. He'd also noticed her kindness when she'd given a cup of punch to an impoverished woman who had stood eyeing the punch bowl but clearly hadn't had any money to purchase a cup of drink for herself. She hadn't stopped with the punch alone, but had bought the woman some sweetmeats and pies displayed on a sale buffet nearby.

  Lucy was a sweet, kind girl and he'd found himself building the fantasy of marriage to her. It was quite an interesting, beautiful prospect.

  Sighting a hackney turning the corner ahead of them, Edmund raised his hand and hailed it to a stop.

  "Come, Miss Lucy, let's see you safely home and away from these parts," he said, just as a group of inebriated men sauntered past, whistling and calling crudely to her.

  "Thank you, Edmund, for this evening. I have had the best time." Lucy looked at him with a smile. Edmund met her eyes, sparkling with warmth and excitement. "I'm glad we could share the moment. It meant a lot to me, and it delights me that you enjoyed yourself."

  She tightened her hold on his arm, as they approached the waiting hackney.

  After they had settled themselves in the cab, and the horse was trotting on, Lucy said, "Tell me, Edmund, whose initials are those on your pocket watch? I can't stop thinking about it, or the person who gave you such a cherished gift."

  Edmund was taken aback by the sudden question, as memories of Kate Charrington came immediately rushing back.

  He didn't want to discuss his previously intended with Lucy—at least, not yet. Talking or thinking about Kate always left a bitter taste in his throat.

  "As I told you, it was a gift from someone in my past and it doesn't really matter. Can we refrain from talking about it, please?" He was unable to help the gruffness from his tone.

  He realized his mistake soon enough, as Lucy's cheery countenance collapsed.

  Damn! He'd gone and embarrassed her. "I'm sorry, dearest Lucy. I didn't mean to sound so abrupt and rough," he hastily apologized. "It's just that we've spent such a wonderful evening and I wouldn't like to ruin it by dredging up unpleasant memories from the past. Please let me know you understand."

  She gave him a small smile. "It's perfectly alright. I should be the one apologizing for my overly-curious nature. You must have noticed by now how it runs away with me sometimes."

  Edmund shook his head, and caressed her gloved hand between his. "You don't need to apologize, sweetness. You've done nothing wrong by inquiring. Soon perhaps, I'd be able to tell you about the pocket watch, but for now, I'd like us to avoid discussing it."

  Lucy nodded, her expression blank and unreadable. "It's alright, Edmund, you aren't obligated to tell me anything. We are just friends, after all."

  On the course of the ride back to the earl's residence, they made frequent small talk, but Edmu
nd didn't fail to observe her subdued nature, and unwillingness to contribute more than the required monosyllabic answers and comments to his questions and jokes.

  By the time they arrived at the house, the chumminess they'd shared all evening had dwindled to almost nonexistence. She thanked him again for the evening with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, before disappearing into the house.

  Edmund scolded himself all the way back to the town home flat he shared with his best friend. All because of his unnecessary sensitivity towards something that had happened more than a year ago, he'd turned a pleasant evening with a breathtakingly beautiful woman sour in just a matter of a minute.

  What a fool I am in matters if the heart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  "My Lady, are you sure you want me to spend the day by myself? I could abandon any plans and spend the day with you. Nothing is as important as your health." Lucy's tone was urgent, as she sat by Lady Agnes's bedside the next morning, wondering why the woman was insistent on having her away, despite her desire to stay.

  "Stop that nonsense, child," Lady Agnes chided gently. "I will be fine with Lizbeth , who has insisted on being with me at all times. You have nothing to worry about, dear." The older woman suddenly smiled, mischievousness twinkling in her eyes. "You aren't going to make a match holed up in this house with me, dear. It's a beautiful day. Go out, take Caroline with you and enjoy a turn in the park. You could even spend time with a friend."

  Lucy couldn't help the twist in her gut at the positive, teasing tone of the kind woman's voice, and her own hidden and double intentions made her feel like the worst villain possible.

  There was no denying how she felt for Edmund, and that alone complicated everything further. She cared about his opinions; she cared about his feelings for her, but at the same time, she couldn't let it cloud her judgment and divert her from her goal of finding someone who could offer more financial security.