Earl Lessons: The Footmen’s Club Series

by Bowman, Valerie

  “So you aren’t smitten with her?” Lady Elspeth ventured.

  David swallowed more champagne. This time it was nearly a gulp. “Not in the least.” There. That had sounded convincing. Hadn’t it? Too bad it was a damn lie.

  Another sly smile spread slowly across Lady Elspeth’s face. “I’m ever so pleased to hear that, my lord.”

  He gave her an encouraging smile. That settled it. Perhaps Lady Elspeth would tell the others and the gossip about him being smitten with Annabelle would go away. He really should spend more time with pretty Lady Elspeth. The young woman seemed interested, unlike a certain dyed-in-the-wool spinster.

  “But if you were looking for Lady Annabelle,” Elspeth added, nodding toward the dance floor, “she’s just over there dancing with Lord Murdock.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Annabelle narrowed her eyes on David. He’d seemed out of sorts ever since he’d strode into the salon this morning. Last night at the Milfords’ party, they’d barely spoken. He hadn’t asked her to dance, and today, while she was teaching him the proper way to greet guests in a receiving line, his answers to her questions were short and clipped.

  “Are you quite all right?” she finally asked.

  He placed his hands on his hips and turned to face her. “Excellent. How are you?”

  Annabelle crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him. “I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he replied, blinking at her innocently. “Especially given the quantity of champagne you drank last night.”

  “I beg your pardon.” She frowned at him, her mouth slightly open.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “By my count, it was at least five glasses.”

  She gave him a smug smile. “It was six. I had one before you arrived.”

  His brows shot up. “Six glasses of champagne? Is that seemly for a debutante?”

  “I don’t know, my lord, is ten seemly for an earl?”

  He scowled. “How do you know I had ten?”

  “You’re not the only one who can count. And besides, the Milfords’ are famous for watering down their champagne to make it last longer.”

  David shook his head. “Well, that explains quite a bit. But it doesn’t explain why you danced with Lord Murdock again twice last night after you’ve told me more than once you’re not interested in him.”

  Annabelle lifted her chin. How dare David say such a thing in an accusing voice? “I’m not interested in him.”

  “Then why were you dancing with him?” David shot back.

  Annabelle plunked her fists on her hips. “What business is it of yours?” She’d spent the last two nights unable to sleep, trying to decide the best way to handle Lord Murdock’s unwanted advances. She certainly didn’t want the man to spread the gossip that she and David had been kissing on the Talbots’ verandah, but she’d rather be ruined than marry that snake. She’d finally decided that the best course of action would be to play along with the man’s demands at least until after her brother’s wedding. If Murdock made good on his threats to tell everyone she’d kissed David, at least her brother and Marianne would be happily and safely married before Annabelle brought shame upon the family. It was her fault after all—she’d been the one to respond to David’s kiss. If she’d slapped him and left him on the verandah, there wouldn’t be much to gossip about. Instead, she’d provided that scoundrel Lord Murdock with the perfect fodder for a scandal.

  David was about to open his mouth to retort when Mama walked into the room. “How’s it going in here?” she asked in a sweet, happy voice.

  “Excellent,” they both nearly shouted simultaneously, seeming quite guilty.

  Mama narrowed her eyes on them suspiciously, before turning to David. “I’m sorry I haven’t had more time to devote to your lessons, Lord Elmwood. It’s been a quite a job keeping up with all of Annabelle’s gift deliveries.” She laughed. “Though yesterday, I was delayed at the milliner’s.”

  David refrained from pointing out that she’d also apparently paid a call on his sister, but he wasn’t about to pass up the chance to say something sardonic about Annabelle’s gifts. “Yes,” he replied, also nodding. “But not to worry, my lady. I expect London will run out of flowers sooner or later.”

  Without missing a beat, Mama sighed and said, “Oh, it’s a mess. They’ve begun sending bon bons, which isn’t good for our waistlines. And a handful of them have begun writing poems.” She turned toward Annabelle next, as she tapped her finger against her cheek. “That reminds me, darling. Lord Murdock left his card earlier when you were dressing. He brought two dozen roses and a box of sweets himself, and wanted to ensure you’re still planning to go riding in the park with him this afternoon.”

  Annabelle’s face froze and she stared at her mother without blinking. “I, er, yes, Mama. I intend to do exactly that.”

  “Excellent, dear,” Mama said, patting Annabelle on the arm. “I’ll tell the maids to prepare your clothing.”

  “Thank you, Mama,” Annabelle replied, still refusing to meet David’s eyes. She could feel his accusatory glare. She’d weighed the merits of telling David what Lord Murdock had said to her, but she’d decided against it. David seemed like the sort who might go beat Murdock to a pulp, and while there was a certain pleasure to be had in that thought, she didn’t want to cause David any scandal. She’d promised Marianne he would be the catch of the Season, and keeping Murdock preoccupied for a bit actually served to help in that quarter as well. If Annabelle was seemingly being courted by Murdock, perhaps all the young ladies who’d had their sights set on the marquess would turn their attentions to David instead. At the end of the day, pretending to encourage Murdock seemed like a small price to pay to keep the peace until after Beau’s wedding, at least.

  The moment Mama left the room, David stood and turned toward Annabelle with a false smile on his face. His arms were crossed over his chest. “Going for a ride in the park with Lord Murdock later?” He batted his eyelashes at her.

  Annabelle lifted her chin. “What if I am?” She hated that David thought she might actually enjoy Murdock’s company, but at the same time a part of her—the defiant part—knew that it was none of David’s business whom she spent time with. He had no right to be so high-handed about it. She was partially doing this to help him, after all, even though he didn’t know it.

  David glowered at her. “I seem to remember that a ride in the park was on the list of things you told me a gentleman asks a lady to do when they are courting.”

  Annabelle’s nostrils flared. She wanted to stamp her foot. The man was being impossible. “It’s merely a ride in the park, David. Besides, I fail to see why you would care what I do. You accused me of being jealous once. But it sounds as if you’re the jealous one. I’ve found that men always want what they can’t have. Is that the problem, Captain Ellsworth?” She crossed her arms over her chest this time and glared back at him. There. That should silence him on the subject.

  “Certainly not,” he nearly growled as he ran a hand through his dark hair and paced away from her. “And I completely understand that a ride in the park is nothing more than a ride in the park. In fact,”—he turned back to face her—“I’ve asked Lady Elspeth to accompany me on just such a ride this afternoon as well.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  David did his best to concentrate on the story Lady Elspeth was telling him as they rode together atop his curricle through the park that afternoon. Her mother was ensconced in the back acting as chaperone, and Lady Elspeth had just finished a story involving her younger sister and a hair ribbon they both admired. He’d never been much for pleasantries and for some reason he found himself wholly unable to concentrate on her tale. Hopefully, she wouldn’t ask him any questions. What bothered him the most, however, wasn’t the story or even the chill in the air and the gray sky that hung over the city like a dirty handkerchief. No. What was bothering him this afternoon was his lesson with Annabelle this morning and his ridiculous
behavior during it.

  He’d acted like a complete arse and had no excuse for it. What in the bloody hell was wrong with him? Why did he care if she went riding in the park with Lord Murdock? Why did he care if she’d danced with Murdock twice the night before? What did he care that Murdock had apparently hand-delivered two dozen roses and some sweets to her house that morning? Why did he care about any of it?

  David had tried to tell himself that those things bothered him only because Annabelle had been so adamant about not wanting to be courted by anyone. She was being hypocritical. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that reasoning made no sense. It wasn’t up to him to monitor her actions and compare them to her words. Perhaps she’d changed her mind. That was none of his business, exactly as she’d told him. Even if she couldn’t or wouldn’t admit that she was allowing Lord Murdock to court her, what business was it of David’s? She was his sister’s future sister-in-law. She was his tutor in the ways of Society. Perhaps she was his friend, but she didn’t owe him anything, including explanations for her actions or their lack of continuity. She was a grown woman who had handled her own affairs all these years. She certainly didn’t need David to stroll into town and begin taking her to task for her decisions.

  So, why had he behaved like such an unmitigated arse? Why was he acting as if she owed him an explanation? Why did he care what she did when she wasn’t with him? And why in the bloody hell had he gone and kissed her of all things? All it had done was make their interactions tense and uncomfortable. These questions had rolled around and around in his brain, making him half-mad all day.

  Fine. He was smitten with Annabelle. He wasn’t proud of it, and he wasn’t particularly pleased to know it. It made him predictable, didn’t it? Now he was just one of the many gentlemen in London who fancied Annabelle Bellham. What, was he going to begin sending her flowers, too? Asking her to go for rides in the park? There was no way she would agree to such liberties. The lady had made it quite clear she wasn’t interested in marriage. And now here he was, smitten with her. Another one in a long line of sad sops who could claim the same fate: wanting a woman they couldn’t have.

  She’d accused him of being jealous and he’d denied it. But now he realized she was right. He was jealous. Blindly, unreasonably jealous of Murdock, of all blasted people. What could she possibly see in that man? He was a pompous prick.

  She’d also accused David of only being interested in her because men wanted what they couldn’t have. Could that possibly be true? Hadn’t Annabelle herself explained to him that all the men who were trying to court her only wanted her because she was the equivalent of prize hog to be won? Was David that predictable and ignoble? Was he truly that obvious and insipid? No. He wasn’t, and he hated that she’d lumped him in with the rest of the foolish men of the ton. The type of men who placed bets on women’s marriage prospects. He wasn’t one of them, and he never would be.

  But he mustn’t allow his baser instincts, specifically his inconvenient jealously, to cost him a friendship with Annabelle. And that is exactly what would happen if he were to be idiotic enough to tell her he was smitten with her, or to attempt to court her or win her in any way. Annabelle was clever. She would detect his game immediately. She would consider him to be in the same exact group as all the other fools who sent her flowers and or wrote her poems. Not that he was a poem writer. Certainly not. But flowers were bad enough, and he’d actually contemplated sending some!

  Flowers would be a catastrophe. He would not send flowers. He would not ask her to go riding in the park. And he certainly wouldn’t attempt to kiss her again. And if she wanted to go driving around with Lord Murdock and accept his two dozen roses (the amount was pretentious if you asked David) then that was her affair and none of his. The woman had introduced him to other young ladies, for God’s sake. If there was a clearer sign that she wasn’t interested in him, what could it possibly be? No. He needed to push any thoughts about Annabelle’s sweet lips, her silken hair, her soft skin… Damn it. He needed to focus his attention back on a woman who actually might be interested in his suit. Specifically, Lady Elspeth, who was even now prattling on in the seat next to him.

  “It’s really too bad about the weather today,” he heard her say when he began listening again.

  Thank heavens. Weather. Something he could respond to. He forced a smile to his lips. Lady Elspeth deserved better from him. She’d gamely agreed to go riding in the park when he’d suddenly arrived at her home earlier this afternoon and asked. Of course, he’d lied to Annabelle about having already made the plans. He didn’t want to seem like a complete horse’s arse. He shook his head and concentrated on what Lady Elspeth had said. “Yes, it is too bad. Hopefully, the rain will stay off until we return home.”

  “I hope so too,” Lady Elspeth replied. “Oh, you know where we should go next? Down to the trail near the duck pond. That’s where most couples go to be seen together in the park.”

  Normally, David wouldn’t give a toss where most couples went to be seen together, but his next thought was: if most couples went there, it stood to reason that Annabelle and Murdock might be there. And although David was steadfast in his commitment to not attempt to court her, he had to admit he was somewhat curious about her ride with Murdock. Would she be happy and laughing or would she be silent and frowning, wishing the ride was over? Was she enjoying herself, or miserable?

  There was only one way to find out.

  “Then by all means,” he said, lifting the reins and giving Lady Elspeth a wide smile. “Let’s be seen.”

  He shook out the reins and called to the horses to step lively.

  Despite the wind that was picking up when the curricle pulled up to the trail near the duck pond, there were at least a dozen other small conveyances there. He’d followed Elspeth’s expert directions and they’d made it there in only a few minutes’ time.

  Elspeth’s gaze was already taking in every couple in the area. “Look.” She pointed. “Over there. I do believe that’s Lord Murdock’s carriage.”

  David couldn’t have been more pleased with her random observation if he’d asked her himself. “Really?” He tried to sound nonchalant. “The one with the two lions on the door?”

  “Yes, that’s the one. We’ll have to greet them when they come around. Drive in the circle. We’ll pass them eventually.”

  “Very well,” David replied, still trying to sound nonchalant. Had he mentioned to Lady Elspeth that Annabelle was riding with Lord Murdock today? Or did she guess? He supposed it didn’t matter.

  David let his two matched black stallions prance over toward the line of carriages. Once the curricle fell into step with the other conveyances, they proceeded quite slowly. The long line of vehicles moved at the pace of an injured, recalcitrant donkey around a trail that was shaped like a large oblong. It was arranged so that at some point each coach would pass the others as they made the rounds. Some of the carriages would stop the progression to speak to the occupants of the carriage they were passing. The arrangement made the whole affair that much more excruciatingly slow.

  David kept his eye on Murdock’s black coach. It was nearly a halfway away from them. Given the current angle, David couldn’t see either Murdock or Annabelle. While Lady Elspeth and her mother called out greetings to the occupants of the other coaches as they moved along the trail, David did his best to smile cordially and tip his hat to each person who passed by.

  “So, this is where everyone comes to be seen? Why is that?” he finally asked.

  Lady Elspeth warmed to the topic immediately, clasping her gloved hands together in her lap and smiling widely. “Rotten Row is the place to be seen, of course, but this is also a popular path.”

  “To be seen by whom?” David asked.

  She blinked at him, a confused look on her face as if she didn’t understand the question. “Everyone,” she finally ventured. “Those that are here, at least.”

  “And why would one want to be seen?” he
prodded.

  This time she cocked her head to the side and frowned. It was as if he’d asked the question in a different language. “What do you mean?” she asked, the smile momentarily slipping from her lips.

  “Never mind,” David said, shaking his head. That was clearly a question for Annabelle to answer. Not one for poor Lady Elspeth.

  After their failed attempt at communication, David and Lady Elspeth sat in silence for several moments only smiling and nodding to the others who passed by. Finally, after what seemed to be an agonizing wait, they approached Murdock’s carriage.

  Annabelle was sitting next to the marquess atop the seat, her back perfectly straight. Her cheeks flushed from the cool spring air. Her light-blue pelisse buttoned up and her bonnet with a matching blue ribbon tied expertly beneath her chin at a jaunty, fetching angle. Her gloved hands sat in her lap and her face was completely devoid of any emotion. Wasn’t that just like her? To be out on a ride in the park with a man and display neither enjoyment nor misery? Members of the ton, David had learned, were taught from birth to give nothing away with their facial expressions. It seemed far too much work, as far as he was concerned.

  As Murdock’s coach passed by, Lady Elspeth was the one to begin the conversation. “Good afternoon, my lord,” she called over to Lord Murdock.

  Murdock and David were both forced out of politeness to bring their respective conveyances to a halt. David eyed Murdock’s carriage. Expensive. Well-tailored. His horses looked good. The man himself was handsome, David supposed, if one didn’t mind eyes that were set too closely together. But Murdock was certainly well-dressed and appeared wealthy. Apparently, one could not tell from mere looks if one was prone to throwing fits.

  “Elmwood,” Murdock intoned after returning Lady Elspeth’s greeting. “We were just talking about you.” The marquess turned to Annabelle whose cheeks became even more pink.