Earl of Darling (Wicked Earls' Club)

by Maggie Dallen

  “Ladies first,” he said.

  “I wished to apologize,” she said. “It seems I have drawn you into a scandal.” She tried for a smile but it felt weak and rueful. The irony of it all was undeniable. She was a lady who had been raised to avoid scandal at all cost. And now, she seemed to find it at every turn.

  Another small smile softened his features and warmed his eyes as they fell to the hand that had struck Stallworth. “One might argue that you saved me from another kind of scandal, one far worse, considering the rumors about me.”

  Her breathing grew shallow, and she knew not if the tightness in her lungs was caused by the pain in her hand or the affection in his eyes as he looked at her.

  “It should have been me knocking him senseless,” he said. “Lord knows I would love to make him pay for all he’s done to you.” He moved closer and her lungs hitched again. At this rate she would swoon right here in front of all these prying eyes. “Still, Evelyn, you should not have had to do such a thing for me. I forget the rules of this place.”

  He gently touched her hand which was now throbbing.

  “Yes, well…” She tried again for a smile to ease his concern, but his soft touch had made her pain intensify and she winced instead, a hiss escaping.

  He cringed. “You regret it,” he muttered. “Of course you do. You should not have done such a thing just to protect me—”

  “No, no,” she interrupted. “I have no regrets.”

  She blinked as she realized just how true that statement was. It might hurt like the dickens, but she could not regret standing up to Stallworth, nor sparing Darius more gossip.

  “Then what is it?”

  She held her hand out gingerly. “It’s just...I had no idea hitting someone would hurt so much.”

  His eyes widened in surprise and then he was murmuring curses that made her blush. “Idiot,” he muttered to himself as he looked around them with panic in his eyes. “I should have realized. You’re hurt.”

  “It’s not so bad,” she lied.

  Apparently realizing that there was no doctor hovering in the shadows, he took her hand oh-so-gently between his and unbuttoned her gloves. “It’s likely just bruised, but we need to be sure nothing is broken.”

  She held her breath as he removed the glove.

  People were watching. She knew she ought to protest. But she could not.

  She did not wish to.

  Having a large brute of a man like Darius tend to her so gently, it...well, it touched something in her heart.

  How could anyone call this man those names? She’d never met anyone less deserving of those cruel monikers.

  He glanced up, worry coloring his voice and his expression. “It doesn’t appear as though anything is broken, but still…” He moved quickly, scooping up some snow and resting it gently against the spot where her hand was red and swollen. “We ought to keep it cold so it does not swell further.”

  She nodded, utterly unable to form words. Even with ice-cold snow against her skin, his touch warmed her all the way through. She was trembling with the effort to keep from leaning in, resting against him, letting his strong arms wrap around her.

  When the silence stretched too long, felt too intimate, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “People must be watching,” she murmured. She glanced down quickly at their joined hands. “This will look…They will think...”

  He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, and moved closer still. “Would that be such a bad thing? If they were to think that?”

  His words made her pulse race and her heart swell. All she could do was answer with the truth. “No,” she breathed. “That would not be so bad at all.”

  He moved closer, pulling her in gently toward his warmth. “Evelyn, I—”

  “There you are.” Jacob’s voice in the doorway had her jumping back with alarm.

  “Come, Evelyn,” he said, his voice stiff, his tone cold. “We ought to be heading home.”

  She glanced up at Darius, her heart aching. There was so much they had not said.

  He gave her a small smile. “Would it be too much to ask…”

  She arched her brows, ready to say yes. Whatever he asked. Yes.

  “I should like to continue this conversation. Say, tomorrow. At the park like before…” He glanced at her brother and his voice grew louder. “My sister and I would love to see you there.”

  She nodded, a smile growing as she backed away. “I will be there.”

  Her brother wrapped an arm around her, his gaze on her hand as they headed back inside. “Are you hurt?”

  “Only a little.” She could not seem to stop her smile as she discreetly tucked her ungloved hand into the folds of her skirt.

  “You shouldn’t have struck him,” he said quietly as they made their way through the crowded drawing room to the front door.

  She grinned. She could not bring herself to agree. Her hand hurt, yes...but hitting Stallworth?

  Nothing had ever felt so good.

  Chapter Eight

  Darius studiously ignored the various groups also strolling in Hyde Park. The snaps of their fans as they whispered behind them were near as loud as cannon fire to his ears.

  The weather was much colder than it had been on their last visit and he said a silent prayer of thanks. It meant there were far less gossips about than there might have been had the weather been warmer.

  He grimaced as one group obviously eyed him, talking behind their hands. There were still enough. Enough whispers to let him know he’d made yet another major social gaffe. At this rate, he’d never fit into this world.

  Not that he cared. But his sisters…

  He glanced down at Tabetha where she rested lightly on his arm. “Oh my,” she said, her chin straining toward the gossips. “Even out of doors, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife.”

  Inwardly, Darius winced. A lecture was coming. A well-deserved one at that. But Tabetha slipped her hand from his arm. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

  “What?” He looked at his sister, apprehension sliding down his back. “How?”

  “Don’t worry,” she murmured, removing her hand from his arm. Her words did little to quell his fear. In fact, they heightened it. Considerably. But she crept away, oblivious to his concern, and crept behind a hedge as she slipped over to the group of ladies currently clucking behind their fans.

  As far as plans went, it wasn’t a bad one. She might have done all right as a spy if it weren’t for one obvious flaw. Her movements had been deft enough except for that she wore several feathers in her fashionably plumed hat and they were currently bobbing behind the hedge, easily seen above the bushes, as she made her way down the row of evergreens.

  He closed his eyes, letting out a long breath of frustration. This was exactly why he’d determined to pursue Evelyn’s hand with more...vigor.

  Truth be told, they needed her guidance.

  They were failing as a family to fit into this world. His father had been a cousin to the earl. They’d grown up in the country, sure that the title would never fall into their hands. They’d spent their lives as landed gentry, working their land far away from the sparkling world of high society. His parents had raised them to laugh, love, work, and fight among the working class. They weren’t prepared for this, hadn’t spent a lifetime learning how to operate in this world.

  He looked at his sister again. Well, her feathers, anyhow. Tabetha was making a spectacle of herself almost as grand as he’d done last night. Except that the women she meant to eavesdrop on were so engrossed in the scandal that was him, they didn’t seem to notice the feathers bobbing behind them.

  “Why is Tabetha hiding behind that hedge?” Evelyn asked next to him.

  Evelyn.

  He turned to her, warmth spreading through his chest.

  She looked stunning in a dark green velvet riding habit that seemed to accentuate the flush of her cheeks and the sparkle in her brown eyes. Her lips parted in an easy
smile as their gazes met.

  There was another reason he’d pursue her hand again. And that was...genuine affection.

  A lump formed in the pit of his stomach as his heartbeat quickened. Perhaps it was more than just affection.

  He shook his head, determined to keep that bit to himself. A woman as gracious as Evelyn would never want a social misfit like himself under normal circumstances. She needed his offer now and… He winced.

  Was he taking advantage of her just as Stallworth had done?

  But he shook his head. He wasn’t. Unlike Stallworth, what Darius was about to propose was a mutually beneficial arrangement. That’s what made him different from that snake.

  “You came,” he said, realizing how simple and silly those words were. Of course she’d come. She was standing next to him. But he hadn’t been able to think of any other words as he’d stared at her.

  “I did.” She raised her brows. “And so did you.” Then she gave a pointed look at the hedge. “And so did Tabetha.”

  He clenched his teeth. “She is conducting a covert operation.”

  Evelyn looked over at the hedge again, the tiniest gasp escaping her lips. “Oh dear.”

  Darius sighed. “That about sums it up.”

  “Should I retrieve her?” Evelyn bit her lip as she looked back at him.

  He shook his head. “No. Don’t. It gives us a moment to talk and—who knows, perhaps she’ll learn something useful.”

  “Perhaps.” Evelyn gave him a small smile. “Or perhaps she’ll start a new rumor about the odd birds currently inhabiting Hyde Park.”

  He groaned again, rubbing the spot between his brows. “We just can’t seem to help ourselves. Rutlands weren’t meant for society.”

  “Rutland?” She gave him a strange smile. “Of course I knew that was Tabetha’s surname, but I’d forgotten that until recently it was yours. I think of you as only Darling.”

  He quirked his brows. “Strange. I have a difficult time thinking of myself as Darling. I wasn’t meant to be earl.”

  She shook her head and then notched her chin, giving him a long look. “That isn’t true. You were meant to be Darling. It wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t.”

  That notion set him back on his heels. In battle he believed this notion all the time. That to a certain extent the future was in God’s hands rather than his own. It was easier to believe so when facing death rather than...well...life. “But I’m the sixth in line. I—”

  “Darius,” her gentle voice soothed his thoughts, clearing them. “You are the line. It’s now about what you intend to do with the legacy that is rightfully yours.”

  What did he intend to do with the legacy…

  He blinked several times. Why had this angle not occurred to him? He’d been so busy lamenting how he’d gotten here, he’d failed to consider where he was going.

  It didn’t matter that Thomas should be in London, rubbing elbows with the elite. In fact, it shouldn’t have been Thomas either. Why hadn’t that thought entered his mind before now? It should have been Edward, or William, or Henry. All the cousins that had perished to bring them to this moment.

  His future...

  Then he realized he had given what he’d do with the earldom some measure of consideration. One path for the future was clear.

  He’d picked a countess.

  A woman who would bring grace and decorum to his life. To his sisters. To his children. To the Darling legacy.

  A woman who made his heart race and melt all in the same breath.

  He reached for her gloved hand, holding her delicate fingers in his. “In many ways, I am ill prepared for how to move my earldom forward. How to create that legacy you mentioned.”

  She gave him the sort of encouraging look that made his pulse jump in his veins. “I have every confidence you will find your way. You are a good man, Darius. Honorable, kind, and straightforward.”

  They were all nice words. From one of his sisters, they would surely have been a compliment.

  But from her…

  They sounded practical and stiff compared with the way she tied his stomach into knots. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

  “You’re welcome,” she returned as she shifted closer. “And thank you for last night. I couldn’t have advocated for myself like that without your strength behind me.”

  That eased his concerns. Surely a woman who drew from a man’s strength would learn to appreciate that man? “In that regard you are very welcome, though I’m a bit concerned that we Rutlands have been a terrible influence on you.”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t disagree more. For the first time, I feel…” She paused, her gaze shifting up to the clouds above as though they held the words she searched for. “I feel more like myself than ever before.”

  The words tugged at his heart and made his chest tighten. “And you have helped me realize a valuable lesson.” His other hand covered hers. “I need to learn how to don a public facade. Hide my feelings and fight, not with open hostility, but veiled threats. I have a new kind of power now, and I need to learn how to wield it.”

  She gave a small laugh, high and clear and beautiful. “See. You’re deciphering the ton perfectly.” Then the smile slipped and she frowned. “And I’m fairly certain I need to learn to care less what they think and act in my best interest rather than doing as everyone wishes for me to do.”

  “Now, now,” he answered, his head bending closer to hers. “Is this the woman I met as she dangled out a window? I think you’re learning that lesson just fine.”

  Color filled her cheeks as she smiled again. “I am growing braver. Aren’t I?”

  “Very,” he answered. “But I wouldn’t suggest that you attempt another escape out the window.”

  “No?” Her chin dropped to her chest. “Do you have any other suggestions, then? Because I’m fairly certain my brother, in a misguided attempt to protect my reputation, smoothed over the entire fern scandal last night.”

  His heart had begun to race again. And he said another thanks for the cold weather that allowed him to wear leather gloves because they hid the fact his palms had grown a bit damp. “I do have one.”

  “What’s that?” Her chin lifted as her gaze met his.

  He drew in a deep breath. She’d rejected his proposal once. But if he could council her on bravery, then surely he could ask one more time. “As I said before, you are in need of another offer of marriage.”

  Her lips twitched as her fingers squeezed his arm. “I agree.”

  “And I believe I know a man who might benefit from your superior skills as a lady of society.”

  “Do you really?” The twitch had turned into a grin. “I’d very much like to know who this man is.”

  His smile surely matched hers as it spread into a grin so wide it nearly hurt. Perhaps he’d not smiled enough of late. Not that it mattered. He was fit to burst. “Evelyn, would you do the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She didn’t answer immediately, as she looked up at him, her hand still on his arm. For a moment, he held his breath, afraid to even breath as she gave a small nod of assent. “Yes.”

  And then the air rushed from his lungs. “Yes?”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “I accept your offer.”

  Relief flooded him. Deep inside he knew he’d done something right for his earldom. Finally.

  If only he could get rid of that voice in the back of his thoughts that lamented their very orderly deal that was mutually beneficial. Because deep in his heart, he wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

  But again…that wasn’t how things were done. Not here. Not with an earldom hanging in the balance. “Excellent.”

  But inside he wished to say, No. Wrong. I’m in love with you Evelyn. That is why you should marry me. Not because it makes sense but because I love you.

  He opened his mouth. Perhaps he should say those things. He wanted to fit into society but also...he wanted her. Her affection and love.
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  “Oh my goodness gracious,” Tabetha cut in and he realized he’d completely and totally lost track of his sister.

  He blinked as his head snapped up. “What?”

  She rushed toward them, her features drawn in tight lines as her hands pressed to her stomach. “You will not believe what I’ve overheard.”

  Chapter Nine

  Evelyn had never actually seen a tornado, but she felt fairly confident that she now knew what it felt to be within one.

  “...and Lady Adeline most definitely used the word ‘nefarious’ at one point.” Tabetha’s verbal assault came to a sudden end as she drew in a long overdue gulp of air.

  “Oh my,” Evelyn murmured, for lack of anything better to say. The intelligence Tabetha had gathered, it seemed, had been quite scattered. She’d heard bits and pieces, and as she’d relayed these tidbits to Darius and Evelyn, the result was a bit...convoluted.

  “So, then...they were not talking about me?” Evelyn asked.

  “Oh no.” Tabetha’s eyes widened. “At least, I did not hear your name mentioned.”

  Evelyn nodded, trying her best to return Tabetha’s beaming smile. What Tabetha might have lacked in decorum, she more than made up for in enthusiasm.

  But truly, Evelyn wasn’t sure whether to burst out laughing or run away screaming at all that Tabetha had told them...and all she had not. Knowing some of the gossip was more frustrating than knowing none at all. Mentions of duels, and affairs, and Stallworth, and... really, it was all quite a lot to take in.

  Especially considering the large gaps that needed to be filled.

  Such as, who, precisely, was meant to be dueling? And what, exactly, did this mean for her engagement? Not that it mattered, precisely. She’d already agreed to marry Darius rather than Stallworth but she wished to know what scandal swirled about them.

  She glanced up to see Darius rubbing the spot between his brows as if warding off a headache. She was sorry to see that his smile was gone. She’d never seen anything more handsome in her life than a smiling Darius. Oh, he was dreadfully attractive when he was in earnest, and he was intimidatingly appealing when he wore that mask of determination.