How to Train Your Earl

by Amelia Grey

  “No,” Zane answered irritably. “You made the request this morning. As I told you and all the family a few nights ago, I’d rather know all that I’m in charge of before I start giving grants away. Everyone keeps what allowances they have, but that’s all I’m willing to do for now.”

  “In that case, I’ll tell him it’s still under consideration. And what about Ivan?” Uncle Hector continued as if Zane hadn’t said what he’d just said.

  Zane searched his memory for someone in the family named Ivan and came up blank. “I’ll let you know later.”

  “Yes, do. Your aunt Beatrice would appreciate it if you’d see fit to buy him a commission in the army.”

  Now, Zane remembered. Ivan wasn’t a Browning. He was Hector’s wife’s sister’s son. All these requests could make a strong, stable man stumble. How would he keep them all straight? He would find a way, and Zane would grant his aunt’s wish. He wanted to help any man ready to take up arms and fight for England. “I’ll set time aside in the coming days to go over all the requests.”

  “Fair enough,” Sylvester answered. “There will probably be more later in the week. Now, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. Bright and early as usual.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Zane murmured tightly.

  Leaving his butler to see his uncles out, Zane strode toward the book room. The tapping of Hector’s cane echoed down the corridor. He didn’t know if it was his uncles’ unwanted presence when he’d returned or the need for a drink that gave him a headache.

  Rounding the doorway, he saw the mountain of ledgers still on his desk as he’d left them. A fire burned. The room was warm, quiet. What he really wanted to do was have a drink. A quick one followed by a long one, and then pick up his coat and gloves and head out to his club for a game of cards.

  But he’d promised the prim widow he wouldn’t. He was going to play by her rules if it killed him.

  He wanted to forget the stack of ledgers, forget about the fact that he was now the earl. That it was his responsibility to consider and answer when his family wanted something.

  Damnation, he didn’t want to do it.

  Life had prepared him to be a gamester not an earl. Which suddenly reminded him to write a note to Lord Lyonwood regretting that he would not be joining his card club. He would have thoroughly relished the chance to sit around the table and match skills with any one of the men in that circle.

  He supposed he’d have to do some things the way Mrs. Feld, Society, and his uncles expected him to. But he didn’t have to like it, and it sure as hell wouldn’t keep him from wishing he had his old life back.

  Zane seated himself behind the desk, determined to put his nose into the account ledgers and keep his uncles and Mrs. Feld off his mind. He wanted to concentrate only on what was before him—the Blacknight earldom and all its entities.

  Later, obviously much later, Zane rose from the desk to stretch. Sometime during the late afternoon he had shed his coat and Fulton had come in to light the lamps and stoke the fire. Without thinking, he walked over to the side table and started to pour himself a nip of the expensive brandy that had been poured into the decanter yesterday. But as his hand reached for it, he remembered his promise.

  No drink.

  He slowly and with great reluctance withdrew his hand. It had taken a strong will for her to have the nerve to challenge his way of life, and she did so only because she didn’t think he could change. She’d said as much. She expected him to fail and have that drink. And she had good reason to believe that. He wanted a drink desperately. But difficult as it would be, he had to match that iron will of hers and show her he could keep his commitment. He turned away from the brandy.

  Only a day had passed and already he knew it wasn’t going to be easy living up to Mrs. Feld’s standards. Long-developed habits were difficult to break.

  What was he to do tonight? Spend it watching others play. He could do it; though, as he found out last night, it wasn’t as enticing as it used to be when he was young and eager to learn all he could about cards and billiards. Blast it, Hector was right. He should have asked Mrs. Feld which parties she would be attending and planned to meet her.

  Zane walked over to the window and looked out. Through the tops of the trees and tall yew hedge a few lights flickered from windows of his neighbors’ houses. The twinkling sparkle reminded him of Mrs. Fe—Brina’s eyes.

  Yes, he liked thinking of her as Brina. She wasn’t a Mrs. anymore. As she had so reverently pointed out, there wasn’t a Mr. Feld. She wasn’t married.

  “Excuse me, my lord.”

  “Yes, Fulton?”

  “Mr. Robert Browning is here and wanted to know if you were available to see him.”

  “Yes, tell him to join me.”

  Zane didn’t know if he’d ever get used to the formality of being an earl. But he would try. For the family. He’d never minded Robert seeing him in a casual state when they were in Paris or Vienna, but things were different now. Zane strode over to the corner of the desk, picked up the coat he’d discarded earlier, and was stuffing his arms into the sleeves when Robert walked in.

  The strapping twenty-two-year old man with a head full of dark-brown hair and laughing eyes stopped and bowed. “My lord. How gracious of you to receive me without benefit of a prior appointment.”

  Zane acknowledged him with a smile and they both laughed. Standing on ceremony with his cousin after all the time spent together wouldn’t happen anytime soon. They’d been too at ease with each other during their travels. In the meantime, it was good to know someone in the family was all right with him still being Zane.

  “It looks as if you are settling into your new role as earl quite well,” Robert offered.

  “I’m adjusting, and glad you stopped by.” Zane leaned a hip against his desk and pointed toward a chair. “Sit down.”

  “Thank you, but I wasn’t going to stay long. I know how busy you are. I overheard Father telling Mama that you had a lot to learn—well, yes, I will sit, but only for a minute.”

  “Don’t get nervous, Robert. I know what your father is saying about me. Hector is not a shy man. Especially not with me.”

  “No, he isn’t,” his cousin answered as he made himself comfortable in the upholstered chair. “In case you haven’t heard, I wanted to let you know that wagers similar to the one at White’s concerning you and Mrs. Feld are being made in other clubs in London.”

  “No,” Zane muttered with no small amount of interest. “I hadn’t heard that.”

  Making a wager in the prestigious White’s was one thing—a gentleman’s right. He hadn’t expected the wager would become commonplace and Brina’s name would be bandied about other clubs and gaming houses in Town. He hadn’t thought through all the ramifications of his ploy before he’d acted on it. And Brina’s deed, with all her conditions for him, was bound to have had an impact on what was happening too.

  Not that he blamed her for anything she’d done. He admired her for fighting back. He did take issue with how clever her tactics were.

  “I’ve been introduced to her, but I can’t say I know her. She’s quite beautiful.”

  She is stunning.

  “Another reason I stopped by is that I was hoping you could spare me another one hundred pounds. There’s a game at the Brass Bull that Harper and I have been invited to join tonight. My pockets are too light right now to get into the first game.”

  Robert’s words disturbed Zane. “You don’t need to be involved in high stakes games at your age or because of the amount of your allowance.”

  “I’ve been assured the games won’t be steep initially, but of course, it really depends on the number who join. But Mr. Remick wants to make sure we can cover bets.”

  “And Harper?”

  “His pockets have always been plumper than mine. He’s an only child and his father has been generous. I think his uncle—Mrs. Feld’s father—helps him from time to time as well.”

  That would follow
what Brina said about her father asking her to keep an eye on Harper. “Is he a good player?”

  “I’d say we are even.”

  “Good,” Zane said and looked at his affable cousin. He liked the cheeky lad, but they were home now. Robert was Hector’s responsibility. “I gave you an extra hundred at the family dinner last week. You should still have more than enough to see you by until your allowance releases again.”

  “I know.” He moved to the edge of his seat. “And I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for your generosity. I am. All it takes is a few bad hands to get behind. You know that. Either luck is with you or she isn’t. It’s only a matter of time before my fortune turns bright again.”

  Zane regarded Robert more carefully. One of the first rules of gaming that he tried to instill in his cousin was that sometimes fortune didn’t return. Some people were not meant to be gamesters. A hand or two of cards after a dinner party or on a rainy afternoon at one of his clubs was all the playing some gentlemen needed to do. He was thinking his cousin might be that type person.

  When Robert arrived unannounced in Paris, Zane hadn’t expected or wanted to become the young man’s caretaker, but out of respect for Hector, he had taken him under his protection and started schooling him in the games. It appeared his cousin wanted to keep it that way, even though he was under his father’s roof again. Robert was studious at times, but more often than not, he was given to bouts of imprudent, impulsive gambling rather than taking it slow, steady, and judicious. At the time, it had suited Zane to tutor him and keep him out of trouble, which he found out included matrimony.

  Zane had no other pressing priorities during his travels.

  Now he had too many. He would never again have the carefree life he lived before he became the earl. And he was finding out that he no longer had the patience, time, or the inclination for such tutelage. Robert was going to have to understand and rely on Hector for fatherly advice and extra funds.

  “I’ve tried to explain to you how important it is to get out of a game before you lose all you have,” Zane stated, trying not to sound as if he were giving a lecture. “You always save enough to play for another day. That’s how you learn to be good at gambling. Remember we talked about when your money runs low, you go.”

  “I know.” Robert’s expression was sincere. “I remember everything you taught me. A gamester shouldn’t hesitate. He needs to know how and which card to play as soon as it hits his hands. I do try to gain skill and play your way every time, but so often, it seems what I have becomes less and less each night until it’s gone.”

  “We went over this when we were in Vienna. You either get better at remembering the cards that have been played, how to use what you have, or you don’t play as often or as deep.”

  “I do,” he said convincingly. “If you’ll let me have a hundred for tonight, I promise I’ll be more careful with it. I’m sure it was the excitement of being back in London with old friends. I wasn’t giving enough attention to the game.”

  Zane considered Robert’s request. Unlike the night with all his family members asking for favors, this was something his cousin would have asked whether or not Zane was the earl. Money wasn’t something Zane had ever had to worry about. In addition to the allowance from the previous earl, Zane’s grandfather on his mother’s side had left him an inheritance that had served him well over the years, and he’d never abused income from it.

  “This is what I’m going to do. I’ll loan you the money. No more handouts. A man, no matter his station in life, needs to gamble with his own money and pay his own debts. So, consider this another lesson in how the game is played. The money will have to be repaid, and there will be no more forthcoming. Do we understand each other on this?”

  “Yes, of course and I agree.” He nodded, rose, and looked as if he’d walk away without saying more but suddenly turned back. “It’s just that sometimes it’s difficult to leave the table. Especially when there is something on top of it that you want, and you think you can win it all with one more shot. It’s hard to walk away.”

  Zane knew exactly what Robert was saying but wasn’t thinking about cards. His cousin’s words brought Brina to his mind. She was the treasure he was trying to win, and he had to be as clever with her as he was expecting Robert to be with cards.

  The most important thing he had to remember was Brina expected him to fail.

  Chapter 11

  The décor of the small town house was opulent from the floors to ceilings. Grand crystal chandeliers hung in every room. Every piece of gilt fretwork and carved moldings were exquisite in detail and style. Rich colors of velvet draperies graced the frames of all the windows. The cushions on the settees and chairs displayed the finest fabrics with classic English floral patterns and scenes.

  Brina knew the home well. The hostesses for the evening had been her parents’ neighbors all her life. She’d been welcomed into their home many times.

  So had numerous other guests present at the soiree. The well-designed drawing room was packed with people, including a cellist and violinist who had been squeezed into a tight corner by the pianoforte. The chatter and laughter of the crowd often drowned out the beautiful music they were playing. No one seemed to notice. It was a party, and everyone was delighting in the merriment of the Season.

  A buffet that looked as if it had been set for the Prince was in the dining room. Brina had only seen it as she passed in front of the open double doors. She hadn’t made it inside to sample any of the delicacies splendidly arranged on the white linen–draped table. There was always someone to distract her with conversation.

  Adeline and Lyon had picked her up for the party, and as soon as she entered, Julia joined them, but so did a host of other ladies all wanting to know how she was managing after her showdown with the new earl. She kept all her answers short and as vague as possible, insisting she was doing extremely well and not letting any of the machinations of the past few days hinder her from her work. The surprising thing was that most of them seemed to believe her.

  One by one the ladies started drifting away, including Adeline and Julia when the handsome Mr. Inwood came up to talk to Brina. They had found other people to converse with on the other side of the room.

  Currently Brina had three handsome bachelors standing in front of her, vying for attention, making it clear they now considered her eligible to pursue. It was her fault, of course. She had opened the door to such attention by agreeing Lord Blacknight could call on her. Now, apparently every man thought he should be given equal opportunity to win her hand. Like her, none of them expected the earl to adhere to all her demands. Even the younger bachelors were trying to woo her. Brina wasn’t attracted to any of them.

  It was a bit disconcerting to have heard tonight that in addition to Blacknight’s wager at White’s, many side bets were being arranged in gaming hells all over Town and private wagers among friends too. Brina considered all of it madness of the highest order. It was as if a raging fire had swept through the ton and there was no water to put it out.

  The earl certainly knew how to get her attention and everyone else’s.

  Unfortunately, she had unwittingly added kindling to the flames. She’d had no definite plans to make any demands on the earl until they started dancing. It must have been the touch of his hands, tilt of his head, or maybe it was the look in his eyes that made her end up giving in to his uncommon, yet persuasive assault to pay her court. Even he kept insisting he only wanted a dance. There wasn’t anything she could do about it now but weather the storm and adjust to being pursued.

  Not only by the earl but others.

  It wasn’t that Blacknight didn’t need her to help him. He obviously did. He continued to prove he didn’t always do the proper thing.

  By design, she was sure.

  Like bringing horses to her house, and kissing her in the park where anyone could have seen them. Though, she couldn’t say she had overly objected much at the time. Oh, who was she kid
ding? She hadn’t objected at all. She’d loved riding the horse and welcomed the kiss with a passion she hadn’t thought possible anymore. And she hadn’t wanted it to end. So much for her declaration of no women for him—though in truth—at the time she’d said it, she hadn’t been thinking of kisses. She was thinking about visits to a mistress for what men pay visits to mistresses for.

  She felt a sudden uptick in her breathing. It was ridiculous. Just thinking about Lord Blacknight had—

  “What is your favorite flower, Mrs. Feld?” the tallest of the gentlemen standing with her asked.

  Brina blinked for a moment as she stared at his boyish face. “Pink,” she answered, trying to return her thoughts to the conversation at hand. “That is to say, any pink flower. I would choose that color over any other in the garden no matter if it were a lily, peony, or rose.”

  “I shall remember that. It’s a color I’m fond of as well. It would look beautiful on you.”

  Suddenly Brina remembered the revealing pink gown she’d worn in Paris. “Thank you, Mr. Inwood, but I doubt I shall ever wear that color again,” she said softly. “I believe it’s more suited for ladies much younger than me.” She looked over at Adeline and Julia. She could really use their help right now, but neither of them paid her any mind. “However,” she continued when the bachelor seemed to expect her to say more, “I saw that flowers have been planted in window boxes on most every street. Have you noticed?”

  After that question, the four of them engaged in an extended conversation about the new flowers planted in Hyde and St. James’s Parks and various gardens for the upcoming May celebration. While continuing to converse, Brina kept glancing at Adeline and Julia, hoping to give them the signal to come over and give her a reason to excuse herself from the young men. She kept spearing her attention their way. All to no avail. It was as if they were both ignoring her.

  She glanced toward the doorway and not the first time since arriving. Right now, she’d even welcome the earl to come and give her a reason to excuse herself.