The Wicked Wallflowers: Regency Boxed Set (Chronicles of a Bluestocking)

by Tammy Andresen

  Caroline pressed her lips together as she looked up at Marksman again. Was that Marksman’s trouble? One more reason she should stay away.

  Chapter Six

  A fissure of anger raced down Pierce’s arms, causing his fists to clench. He’d always been a good provider. Before he’d become the earl, he’d been on a boat, worked himself up to captain, saved enough money to purchase a ship of his own, and used that ship to transport goods to the Americas for a steep profit. That money was the only thing that kept this earldom from sinking under the weight of debt. He’d sold the ship to purchase a strip of land for a docking station, but the deal had fallen through when Lord Harding had intervened. Hence the rocky start. Fortunately, Harding and Dryden had allowed him to buy his way into their company and now he’d at least settled all his brother’s debts. He’d make a profit eventually.

  “I will have you know, Lady Helena, that I have a successful shipping business and more plans in the works.” Not that he cared what Helena thought. But it was what all the prospective brides were thinking and now it was what Caroline thought too.

  “How long have you been earl?” she asked, those green eyes gazing up at him with sympathy.

  An innocent question, but loaded with memories he preferred not to share. “A few years. Since my brother passed.”

  Her nose scrunched with sympathy and her brows pressed together. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Not as sorry as I am,” he answered. He missed the simplicity of his life before Stanley’s death. He might never have married. Or at least married for love. Now, he was searching out a tolerable bride just to balance the books. Dreadful.

  “Pardon me.” A tall, blond man approached, giving a bow. He was dressed in nearly as many frills as the ladies and Pierce disliked him instantly as he struck a pose in front of them, preening like a peacock. “But I haven’t seen you, Lady Helena, for quite some time and I thought I should say hello.”

  “Lord Cross.” Helena gave a reserved nod, her face pleating into the frown she apparently reserved for young men. “A pleasure.”

  His gaze swept over to Pierce and then landed down on Lady Caroline. “You must introduce me to your friends.”

  Helena said nothing for several seconds as everyone waited for her response. Finally, she cleared her throat. “This is Lord Marksman and my dear friend, Lady Caroline.”

  He bowed. “A pleasure to make both of your acquaintances.”

  Pierce stepped forward a bit. Cross’s eyes never left Caroline. A part of him wished to tuck Caroline behind his body. He didn’t like the glint in the other man’s gaze.

  “And you as well.” Cross smirked. “Tell me, do you fancy a bit of croquet? I’m looking for some players to join me.”

  Helena sniffed but didn’t answer. Caroline pressed out invisible wrinkles in her skirt. “That sounds lovely, Lord Cross. Thank you. Would you gentleman be willing to wait for a bit while Helena and I take a brief repose?”

  Cross nodded eagerly and Helena, now smiling, rose with Caroline as the two headed for the house. Pierce wanted to audibly growl. Cross was a poof. How did he end up stuck in conversation with this twit of a man?

  “My my, you’ve excellent taste in company.” Cross watched the ladies cross the lawn.

  “I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Pierce crossed his arms about his chest.

  Cross gave him a knowing smile. “Your shipping deal, actually. How did you manage to convince two of the most elusive lords in London to cut you in?”

  That surprised Pierce and he sat back on his heels. He’d expected Cross to discuss Caroline. “I’m still not certain.”

  Cross shrugged. “Well good for you. Cleaning up your brother’s mess nicely.”

  Pierce shook his head. “How do you know all of this?” He wanted to add, and who are you to bring it up?

  Cross quirked a brow. “Word is getting around. Soon you’ll have your pick of women.” Then he gave a smarmy grin. “Speaking of, when you’re done with that sweet treat, Lady Caroline, be a good fellow and pass her my way. She looks delicious.”

  This time, the growl bubbled up from his chest and into his mouth. “She is not my sweet treat.” He was about to add that she wouldn’t be Cross’s either when the man slapped him on the back.

  “Excellent.” Cross scrubbed his jaw with his hand. “I should like to get to know her better.

  Marksman stepped closer. “If you’re smart, you’ll stay away from her.”

  Cross took a small step back. “I meant no offense.”

  He drew in a deep breath, filling his chest so that it puffed out as he drew to his full height. “You’ve offended. Now go. There will be no croquet.”

  Cross tsked. “There is no need to be such a brute. I only wish to talk with her. Find out if she is amenable to an—”

  Marksman bent down so that his nose nearly touched the other man’s. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave now.”

  Cross took another step back and then, after a brief pause, turned and left. The man was a swine. Pierce remembered her reaction to Helena’s kiss in the garden a few nights prior. Caroline would surely thank him for getting rid of the fellow.

  Caroline stared at Marksman. “You did what?” She’d had a perfectly good rake drooling at the idea of playing croquet with her and Marksman had intervened. Drat the man.

  “You don’t want to associate with his kind.” Marksman looked down at her with sympathy on his face.

  She held in her huff of annoyance. Had she wanted to kiss this man earlier? Now she wished to smack him.

  Helena nodded next to her. “I agree. I’ve heard rumors that he is of an ill repute.”

  Caroline nearly groaned. The whole reason she’d come to this party was to meet men of ill repute. “I wanted to play croquet. Let’s find him, shall we?”

  “We don’t need him,” Helena gushed. “Let’s find someone else to play.”

  Caroline was near to stomping her foot. Perhaps she shouldn’t have left Marksman alone with Cross. She’d just wanted to find out what Helena knew about him in the powder room. The moment she’d mentioned his name, the entire salon had erupted in stories about Cross’s antics. Which had led Caroline to declare him, in her head of course, the perfect research candidate. She’d feign interest in him so that he’d attempt to seduce her. Then she could report all the various techniques he’d employed in their book. Women everywhere would know how a man of that ilk operated. And the best part, this time, she’d resist his charms and would not have to reveal how she’d been played a fool. “I’d like to play with Cross, actually. He looks as though he’d be a worthy opponent.”

  Helena gave her a dumbfounded look while Marksman scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”

  Her gaze swung to Marksman, something she’d been trying to avoid. Her insides always flipped and flopped when she looked right at him. “I am. Would you fetch him for me?”

  He gave his head a shake. “I’m afraid not. I wasn’t exactly kind in my send off.”

  She let out a long breath. “Let’s find him then. We’ll look together.”

  Marksman reached for her arm. “You’ve lost your mental faculties.”

  “I have not.” She pulled her arm from his grasp. “You can come with me or stay here. It matters not to me.”

  “Do you…” Helena’s voice quavered. “Do you fancy him?”

  Drat. She’d hurt Helena’s feelings. Fin and Chloe didn’t enjoy socializing so Caroline thought that moving about with Helena would be a good solution, if not an awkward one. But she hadn’t even considered that Helena’s feelings would be hurt when Caroline attempted to attract rakes. “No, most decidedly not.”

  Then another idea occurred to her. Helena would likely fully support her research if she knew.

  Helena’s look of relief made Caroline pause. Helena was becoming emotionally invested. If she’d used the girl today, it would be unintentional, but going forward…she couldn’t hurt the other woman
like that.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Helena said. “He isn’t the sort for you at all.”

  “I quite agree,” Marksman rumbled.

  Caroline resisted the urge to poke him in the chest and instead, clenched her fingers into a ball. “How would you know what sort would be good for me?”

  “Well.” Marksman crossed his arms. “I know that it isn’t more men like Lord Parks. And that’s exactly what Cross is, a blond version of that cad.”

  Her slipper gave a tiny stomp in the grass under her skirt. “And what are you, sir?”

  He raised his brows. “I’m just a man looking for a wife.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Liar.” Then she caught her breath. Her behavior was less than appropriate, something Marksman seemed to bring out in her. “My apologies. I shouldn’t have said that.” Truth be told, she shouldn’t be here. She’d accomplished nothing she’d set out to do and seemed to only be causing harm.

  “It’s all right,” he rumbled next to her. “I’ve upset you for some reason I don’t understand.”

  “It isn’t your place to understand,” she said much more softly. “But if you’ll both excuse me, I find I don’t feel well after all. Perhaps it’s time for me to leave.”

  “Oh, don’t go.” Helena reached for her arm. “We’re having such a nice time.”

  Caroline straightened away from Helena. “Thank you so much for inviting me. You really are a good friend.” Then she turned to walk away. A part of her twinged. Cross was not a danger, which made him an ideal rake to study, but leaving Marksman made her ache a bit. She held her head higher. She had to stop seeing that man. He was no good for her.

  Chapter Seven

  Pierce returned to his townhome and tossed himself into his chair. What the bloody hell was going on with Caroline? She’d berated him for being a rake and now she wanted to spend time with another one?

  Cross wasn’t even handsome. All right, he wasn’t terrible looking if a woman wanted a pretty man. Was that what Caroline wanted? Parks wasn’t pretty.

  He banged his fist on the table. He was supposed to be working his way through the list. Then, at least he could meet his obligations so he didn’t make any enemies.

  But his wife hunt was the last thing on his mind as Caroline’s green eyes rose like a specter before him.

  He’d like to have a drink, try to wash the thoughts away, but it was still the afternoon and he had a meeting yet with the Earl of Dryden and the Duke of Harding. Then he sat straighter. Perhaps they could shed light on Caroline’s odd behavior. She was best friends with their wives.

  He rose from the desk, then went to his room to change and make his way to the Wicked Earls’ Club.

  Once he arrived, though early, he found Harding and Dryden already in attendance.

  “What are you both doing here? You’re never early for any meeting.” He sat in the chair across from them.

  The nice thing about the club was that it was secret. Not even his brother, when he’d been an earl, had been invited into its ranks. But it meant the place was a vault. Whatever passed between these walls, stayed here. He could talk freely.

  Dryden cleared his throat. “Chloe rushed to Caroline’s side after the garden party.”

  “Annie too,” Harding snorted.

  Pierce pressed his lips together. Both men had arrived early only because their wives were already occupied. “I see.”

  “You don’t see anything.” Harding grimaced, giving Pierce a sour-faced scowl.

  Pierce leaned forward. Since they were on the topic, he may as well ask. “I was with Caroline over lunch.”

  The other men paused, then leaned forward. “Yes?” Fin rolled his hand for Pierce to continue.

  “Well, she seemed keen on spending time with Lord Cross, which I found odd because she appears to detest rakes.”

  Harding’s brow scrunched but Dryden’s face hardened. “Bloody hell and damnation. Luke, they’re at it again.”

  “What?” Luke asked, stealing the word before Pierce could say it.

  “That infernal book.” Dryden slapped his hand on the arm of his chair.

  Luke let out a low rumble. “No. Annie promised.”

  “Book?” Pierce scooted forward in his seat. “What book?”

  Dryden scrubbed his scalp with his hand. “After what happened to Caroline and Chloe, they decided to put together a book of experiences with rakes. Like a guide.”

  “The Art of Taming a Rake,” Luke added, his face pale. “It should be called, The Way A Woman Gets Herself Hurt.”

  Pierce swallowed, then swallowed again, trying to follow the conversation. “So they’re writing their stories about what happened to them?”

  “More than that. They’ve also been researching rakes to add new insight into their anonymous work.”

  “Hellfire and damnation. She’s seeking out rakes.” Just like she’d done to him. Waiting in the shadows. A rumble of dissatisfaction echoed about his chest. He was…research. “What are they going to do with the book?”

  “Hell if I know,” Luke voice vibrated deeply in his throat. “They swore they would stop.”

  “Caroline never promised anyone anything,” Dryden said. “And she has the most cause to hate the rogues of London. She should be married to a duke by now.”

  “I’m taken,” Harding replied with a bit of a snort.

  “Did you just make a joke?” Pierce raised a brow. “That is a first.”

  Harding waved his hand. “What do you know, I’m funny.”

  Both Pierce and Dryden laughed at that. Then Dryden cleared his throat. “I have to ask a few questions, Marksman.”

  Pierce tensed. “Of course.”

  “What is your relationship with Caroline? I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  He sat back in his chair. “I’ve no intention of damaging her reputation any further, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Dryden shrugged. “And you’re not interested in pursuing a union between the two of you?”

  Pierce paused, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Caroline is a catch. But I need to make more connections in this town if I’m going to turn my finances around. A stellar reputation is one attribute she doesn’t have.”

  “Connections?” Dryden looked at him sideways. “Why didn’t you say so? You’re an earl, aren’t you? I’ll put you up for membership here.”

  Surprise and gratitude made him pause. Would that solve his problems? Membership would most certainly help. His brother had been ejected from two prominent establishments and Pierce had been unable to join any others he’d applied to for membership. A club would help to be certain. Then he grimaced. The ties forged with a marriage would be better still. His hand raked through his hair. He’d need both most likely. “I greatly appreciate that. Thank you.”

  Harding scrubbed his face. “We’ll have to find out what’s happening with our wives later. For right now, we’ve business to discuss.” Then Harding paused. “If you hear any more about the book, Marksman, do let us know.”

  He gave a nod. He was most definitely going to find out more about this book.

  Caroline paced in front of her friends as she nibbled her lip. “I was so close and Marksman foiled everything.”

  “You can’t blame him,” Annabelle offered, her graceful body perched on the end of her chair as she patted a stray blonde hair into place. “Lord Cross is dreadful. He had your best interests at heart.”

  Chloe nodded. “Perhaps Marksman does feel more that just attraction for you. He’s going to rather great lengths to protect you.”

  Caroline waved her hand as though she were wiping away the idea. “He doesn’t. Besides, even if he did, he’s looking for another sort of woman entirely.”

  “What sort is that?” Annabelle asked, her keen gaze trained on Caroline.

  Caroline’s shoulders hunched. “The sort whose reputation isn’t tarnished.”

  Her two friends fell silent.

  She drew in a deep bre
ath, crossing to the window. “It doesn’t matter. I know I won’t marry.” Her heart gave a pang in her chest. “Won’t have children.” She swallowed down a lump. “This book will be my contribution to society. The part of me that lives on.”

  Annabelle cleared her throat. “What do you propose to do with the book?”

  Caroline studied the sill of the window. “Submit it to publishers, I suppose. What else is there to do?”

  “What if someone finds out it was us?” Chloe’s asked as she inhaled a deep breath. “We’d never live it down.”

  “You wanted to write this, you remember that?” Caroline turned toward her friend. Why did no one want to help her?

  Chloe stood, holding her hands in front of her. “I know. But I didn’t expect we’d actually publish it. I thought perhaps we’d lend it to a friend or keep it for ourselves. I wanted to give us a way to face the pasts that we didn’t discuss even with each other. You never even told us until recently that is was Lord Parks who kissed you. You can’t move on with your future until you’ve made peace with your past.”

  Caroline’s eyes itched with tears as she stared at her friend. “So you don’t want to publish the book?” Her stomach churned as her heart thudded in her chest. She’d thrown herself into this project. “What am I doing this for then?”

  “Don’t do it,” Chloe said. “Talk to us about what’s happened so we can help you to—”

  “Help me to what, Chloe?” Her hands balled into fists against her stomach. “Help me to find a husband?” She could hear her own voice rising. “I don’t get that future, do you understand?”

  “You might,” Annabelle’s voice was soft. “You’ve still got a dowry. There are men who will have you.”

  “Is that what you wanted? A man who will have you? Who will tolerate you because he needs the coin?” She turned her face toward the window, but she didn’t see anything. Her eyes stared, unfocused on the alley below.

  Neither woman answered for a moment before Chloe finally took two steps toward Caroline. “I’m just afraid for you, Caroline. You’re so kind, giving. I’m worried some man will try and take advantage. I would never forgive myself if you landed in a worse situation than you already are.”