Luke sat at the window of the library and watched Miss Dowels playing in the vast gardens with his sisters and his younger brother. A week had passed since their formal luncheon introduction, though it had taken mere hours for the little ones to fall quite in love with their new governess. She was bright and amusing and had quietly stunned everyone at that luncheon with her veiled remark about liars.
It had tickled him, somewhat. And intrigued him, too. Amongst the ton, he rarely met ladies with a spark of fire within them. It made him wonder what other sparks of fire brimmed beneath the surface.
Indeed, although her respect and good nature extended to the rest of the family, it seemed to glance over him. He knew he had earned her distrust, after keeping his true identity from her, but he had anticipated a much quicker forgiveness than this. After all, he had rescued her from being attacked by the highwaymen.
Then again, he had done little to make amends.
She looked up whilst the girls tossed rings onto a post, her dark brown eyes assessing him keenly. He raised his hand in a gesture of greeting, prompting a stiff curtsey but no hint of a smile. He could not deny how dearly he wished to see her smile, for she was not prone to it. Only the girls seemed to be able to coax one onto her lips.
A challenge indeed, to succeed in making Miss Dowels laugh. Wouldn’t that be a fine thing?
“Come on now, we must get you inside before you catch a chill,” Teresa instructed, gathering the three children to her. He could hear her clear voice through the glass. She dusted any dirt from their coats, before ushering them towards the back steps of the house.
Setting down his book, he rose from the armchair and walked to the library threshold. They would have to pass him on their way to the nursery. A plan was forming in his mind, for although it was a cold day, the sun was out, and the sky was clear.
Sure enough, the four of them exited the hallway to the left and began to make their way across the entrance hall.
“Miss Dowels,” he said, seizing his moment.
She turned, startled. “Goodness, My Lord, I did not see you there. You frightened me.”
“My apologies, that was not my intention,” he replied, noting the frosty tone of her voice. So, she will not thaw towards me. It disappointed him, for he dearly wished to be closer to her. Indeed, he had found himself lying awake on many a night, since her arrival, thinking of the curve of her neck and the bliss it would give him, if he could only press his lips to her soft skin. At this present moment, she was more likely to slap him than reciprocate.
“Is something the matter, My Lord?”
“Not at all. In fact, I was wondering if my darling sisters would be interested in an afternoon jaunt to Moray Park,” he said, flashing them a wink. “It is a rather lovely day, and it seems a shame to waste it indoors.”
“A pleasant idea, My Lord, but they are to learn mathematics this afternoon.”
The two girls turned to their governess with mournful, pleading eyes. “Oh, please say we may go, Miss Dowels!” Philomena begged. “We will do twice the mathematics tomorrow, we swear it.”
Elspeth nodded shyly. She had always been the quieter of the three youngest, though she chattered like a sparrow whenever Luke spoke with her.
Miss Dowels shot Luke a weary look. “If you are very studious before luncheon, then we may consider it,” she relented, as they continued to plead. “Is the whole family to be in attendance, My Lord?”
“I will let them know the happy news,” he replied, captivated by her frosty demeanor. He had never encountered such a resilient cool in all his life. Given his name and title, most ladies fawned over him, whether he wanted their attention or not. They had certainly never looked at him with such open exasperation.
“Very well, My Lord.” She dipped her head to him. “If you would be kind enough to send one of the maids to fetch us when we are to leave, I will prepare the children for the excursion. Although I had hoped to teach them arithmetic, I suppose there is benefit in exercise, too.”
Was that a glimpse of an olive branch?
“I shall do so, Miss Dowels. Apologies for disturbing your educational program.”
She curtseyed once more, before taking the girls upstairs. Luke watched her leave, finding that same curious smile fixed upon his lips. Captivating did not even begin to cover it. Enrapturing might have been a better choice of words to describe her. Indeed, now all he could think of was the small birthmark upon the apple of her cheek, shaped so tenderly like a heart.
He thought back to the night they had met, and the fear he had felt in holding her fragile form in his arms. It seemed serendipity had brought her into his life. Truly, he felt they could not have been destined for this evasive dance that they seemed to be engaged in. He did not know what else they might be destined for, but he envied the joy with which Miss Dowels spoke to the children. He wanted her to speak to him with that same sweetness—the kind with which she had addressed him in those first moments.
Determined, he vowed to win back her favor, even if it took him a month.
* * *
With the afternoon sun hanging low in the sky, casting a warm bronze upon the beautiful landscape of Moray Park—a large expanse of countryside not far from the Rowfex Estate, where they often liked to visit—a contingent of the Rowfex family walked along the main thoroughfare.
Edmund did not know how Luke had managed to persuade his mother to accompany them, but he had a way with people that Edmund had always envied. Nevertheless, all seemed cheered by the excursion. His mother was even tilting her face up to the bright sun, letting it shine upon her. Felicity had declined, but then she was a reclusive creature. He doubted even the enthusiasm of Miss Dowels could coax her out of her shell.
The Duchess, Miss Dowels, and the three youngest walked ahead, whilst Edmund and Luke brought up the rear on horseback. Edmund liked to ride his prized gelding, Palaimon, whenever the opportunity presented itself, especially as it eased the weight upon his injured leg. After two years, he had hoped it would have healed better, but it seemed the affliction was determined to be permanent. It irked him, too, that Luke was the better horseman, which his brother loved to reiterate whenever possible.
Edmund watched his brother for a moment or two, noting how fervently he looked upon the governess. It worried him, for it would not do for his brother to fall for such a young lady. That could only come to trouble, and he felt it was his duty to keep the rest of his siblings in line. Whether they listened or not was another matter entirely.
A sadness moved through him, as he looked to the three youngest, and saw how dearly they clung to the governess. He had never been very skilled with his younger siblings. Luke did not have such an issue. He had an easiness about him that Edmund lacked, which inspired adoration in most of the people who met him. Edmund wished people would adore him as they adored Luke, but he did not think it likely.
He noted the same dark hair and dark blue eyes that his younger brother and sisters shared with Luke, and their father. He supposed that was why he had always felt closest to his mother and his sister, Felicity. They shared his lighter coloring, and he supposed it was natural to stick by those who more closely resembled one’s own appearance.
Although, even Felicity had begun to avoid him of late. Then again, she had begun to avoid just about everyone. A facet of her womanhood, brought on by the fears of becoming a spinster. At two-and-twenty, she did not have too many years left to find a husband. He felt sorry for her, and wished she would be lighter of spirit, as she had been when they were children. Indeed, he often found himself longing for childhood, when his relationship with Luke had not been nearly so strained. Even now, he did not quite know what had changed.
“Must you make doe-eyes at the governess?” Edmund muttered, out of earshot of Miss Dowels. He needed to channel his sadness somewhere, and Luke seemed like the ideal candidate.
Luke flashed a cold look at him. “I am doing nothing of the sort. Perhaps you are the one who is ma
king doe-eyes. I have seen you looking at her when she is seeing to our siblings.”
“She is a delightful creature, but I have not looked upon her as you do.” He turned away, as if proving his point. “Speaking of which, you should be careful in future. You should not look at her that way.”
Luke frowned. “And what way might that be?”
“As if she were a beast at market, or a cut of tender meat upon your plate.”
“Desist!” Luke snapped. “I would never look at her like that.”
“Well, see that you do not. I will not have you cause a scandal.” Edmund held his brother’s cool gaze. He was in constant pursuit of his father’s approval, and he knew that keeping Luke from an improper affection would go some way towards guaranteeing that. Although, it was a source of continual annoyance that their father barely noticed his actions, while Luke could sneeze, and the Duke would applaud him for it.
What makes him so special? Luke breezed through his existence, without a care in the world, and though Edmund was fond of him, that had always been a cause of friction for him. Luke had no idea what troubles Edmund had to contend with, and yet he always complained that he was the less favored son. If only you knew how blessed you truly are.
It did not even seem to matter that Edmund had been the one to take up his true duties and fight for their country. After he had returned, and the full extent of his injuries had been revealed, his father had sunk into a despair. Since that day, he had never quite looked at Edmund in the same way, as though he were a decrepit horse that it would have been a kindness to shoot.
Perhaps that is what I am. Although he tried to hide it, his afflictions persisted in making him feel like less of a man. He had relied on his strength and prowess, and that had been taken from him. The ghosts were worse, though; the ghosts that came in the night and whispered in his ear, reminding him of the horrors he had endured.
“How can you speak to me in such a way?” Luke replied.
“It is a warning, that is all. Leave the governess be.” Eager to be away from his brother, he called to the group who walked ahead. “I thought I might take a ride about the grounds, Mother. Will you continue to walk?”
“For a while, yes,” the Duchess replied. “Do not stray too far.”
He broke away from his brother and set the horse to a gallop, desiring to clear his head of his painful thoughts. All he wanted to do was make his family proud, and be adored by them, but he feared he had made himself too aloof and too strange to traverse that gap. I will prove myself worthy. I will be lauded throughout England. Then, they would have no choice but to see his worth.
As he rode, he thought again of his brother. He did not understand why they always had to quarrel in such a way, for they had been close once. Adulthood had altered their relationship, to the point where he no longer recognized it, and he knew there had to be a reason for that. But it was not something Edmund liked to dwell too intently on. It only made him sadder, longing for bygone days.
Halfway up one of the intersectional paths, he turned over his shoulder and caught sight of Miss Dowels. Her eyes were fixed upon him, an unreadable look upon her face. You would do well to avoid my brother.
Turning away, he pressed on. Meanwhile, Luke had taken off down the opposite path, disappearing into the distance. Good riddance. I hope that you may fall and make a fool of yourself.
Twenty minutes later, he found himself at the Northern entrance to the park. Pulling Palaimon to a halt, he let the cool breeze nip at his flushed cheeks. He hadn’t pushed the horse too hard, but the ride had left him with a feeling of exhilaration.
“You are slow today, Brother,” a familiar voice teased, the sound of hooves approaching at a steady pace.
Grimacing, Edmund turned. “I had thought to ride so that I might get away from you, Luke. Yet here you are.”
He laughed. “You will have to ride much faster than that in order to get away from me. Besides, I thought you might care for some company.”
“As you can see, I do not.” He paused, a grin spreading across his face. “Although, perhaps we ought to have a race—see who is, truly, the more gifted horseman.” Whenever he was around his brother, that competitive streak rose to the fore. He could never find the means to quell it.
This was his sole means of showing his mother and father that he was deserving of his inheritance, by constantly attempting to prove that he was better than his brother. It was childish, he knew that, especially as Luke was not entitled to the dukedom, but everything else he did flew beneath the Duke and Duchess’ notice.
“What might the terms be? We cannot race without a prize,” Luke replied, a cheerful glint in his eyes.
“Whoever the victor may be, the loser must name them the better rider. They must announce it, in Father’s presence,” Edmund said, with a small smile. Luke was an excellent horseman, but so was Edmund, when he put his mind to it.
Luke nodded. “Very well. First one to the toll gate by the fountain wins.”
“Excellent choice.”
“After three,” Luke murmured, gripping Moonstruck’s reins tighter in his hands and adjusting his seat in the saddle.
“One,” Edmund replied, leaning forward against the pommel.
“Two.” Luke grinned.
“Three!” Edmund roared.
The horses spurred into life with a burst of sudden energy, lunging forward under the instruction of their masters. Edmund kept his head low and dug his heels into the horse’s side, urging Palaimon on as fast as he could go. He thought of nothing but the beat of hooves, and the matching beat of his heart as they tore along. That, and the glory he would receive from his father, when he won.
Pedestrians hurried out of the way as the brothers raced, some screaming rude things after them, but Edmund did not hear. His focus was solely on the path ahead, and the toll gate that lay somewhere in the distance, behind the towering oaks. He would win this, and relish in his brother’s defeat.
Indeed, he was so focused on his sure victory that he did not see the figures emerging from the left-hand path until it was too late.
Also by Olivia Bennet
Thank you for reading Lusting for the Broken Earl!
I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, may I ask you to please write a review HERE? It would mean very much to me. Reviews are very important and allow me to keep writing the books that you love to read!
Some other stories of mine:
An Untamed Governess for the Rogue
A Sinful Duke she can’t Refuse
A Ravishing Night with the Mysterious Earl
Secret Confessions of the Enticing Duchess
Wicked Temptations for the Seduced Duchess
* * *
Also, if you liked this book, you can also check out my full Amazon Book Catalogue HERE.
Thank you for allowing me to keep doing what I love!
Olivia Bennet
About the Author
Having obtained a degree in Journalism, but with an affinity for literature and creative writing, Olivia Bennet knew from a young age that her future lay in the romantic ideals of the past. With a fascination for the Regency era and a good romance, she started her career as a historical romance author the old-fashioned way: with pen and paper.
Born in rural Devon, Olivia draws inspiration from the vast farmlands of the British countryside and the people living in the surrounding villages. An avid artist, she takes her sketchbook everywhere with her and captures the beauty of nature, which she then incorporates into her books.
Allow your conscious to be carried away on a wind made of letters and words, of love, mystery and the magic of the Regency era. Start your journey and allow Olivia’s pen to guide you!
ook with friends
Lusting For The Broken Earl (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 31