How to Train Your Earl

by Amelia Grey

  “I only want to satisfy Uncle Hector that all is well with his son. Apparently, if a problem arises within my family, I am the one duty bound to promptly take care of it. Besides, asking you about Robert gave me the opportunity to come see you.” He gave her a twitch of a smile. “Robert wasn’t my only reason for coming over.”

  Her lower abdomen tightened, and she hoped he couldn’t sense how much that pleased her. “I guessed as much.”

  Nodding, he said, “I like being with you, looking at you, and desiring you as intensely as I am right now.”

  Brina’s heart started beating faster. Glancing down at her dress, there was nothing suggestive about the loose-fitting pale brown gown she wore, but his words made her feel as if she were clothed in a luxurious silk gown with her hair beautifully adorned and her cheeks and lips as rosy as a babe’s. He always made her feel that way.

  “I—I don’t know what to say to that. It’s not the kind of thing a gentleman should say to a lady. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t seem appropriate for such a comment concerning desire.”

  His gaze stayed softly on her face. “You don’t have to say anything. I wanted you to know—in case you had any doubts. Let’s go riding. I brought the horses.”

  She’d love to ride again. It was a beautiful afternoon. She glanced at the table and then down at her feet. The toes of her black satin slippers peeked from beneath the hem of her skirt. She didn’t even have her riding boots. Much as she would like to ride again, she simply wasn’t prepared. Why couldn’t he give her notice so she could plan and be ready?

  She sighed. “No. I can’t possibly go this afternoon.”

  “You need to get on a horse and ride again so you won’t forget how,” he encouraged.

  “I didn’t forget in five years.” Brina gave a soft chuckle. “I’m not likely to forget now.”

  “Let’s make sure you don’t. We’ll be followed again. We can give the men who watch me a merry chase.”

  “That’s such a beastly thing for them to do. I don’t know how you put up with it.”

  He shrugged in a nonchalant manner and gave her a bit of a grin. “I am putting up with many things right now, Brina. Compared to some of them, these men don’t bother me at all. I wave or tip my hat, so they know I see them.”

  She knew he was talking about the things she had forced him to give up. But he was kind enough not to spell that out, and she was grateful for that. There were still times she couldn’t believe she’d issued all those demands. Or that, so far, he’d followed them all. That troubled her every time it crossed her mind. For that reason alone, it was best for her to send him on his merry way.

  “No, I can’t ride today. I must finish getting these ready for Pilwillow Crossings. I need to take them to the sisters tomorrow. Julia has already asked to go with me. I really can’t change the day.”

  He glanced at her odd collection of items on the table. “What is it you’re making?”

  “Little bags of comfort is what I call them,” she said softly. “I add a spoon of tea leaves to the center of the little squares and then tie up the ends with a string. These small sizes make enough for one cup of tea.”

  He studied on that for a moment before looking at her with a puzzled expression and asking, “Wouldn’t it be far less trouble if you gave the entire tin?”

  “You think it’s for the sisters to drink?” She laughed. “No. These are for the sisters to hand out to people who aren’t fortunate enough to have tea or even food every day. For some it will be the only tea they get. Three mornings a week, the sisters make soup and bread to give to the needy. They also provide poultices to those who may have an injury. I asked if I could help by making these little bags of tea to hand to everyone. Most of the people have few comforts in life. At times, something as simple as a warm cup of tea can make one feel better, no matter the circumstances.”

  He reached out and briefly caressed her cheek with his fingertips. His touch was warm and soothing. “They probably appreciate the tea as much as the soup.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she said honestly. “It’s certainly not as nourishing. Yesterday, I rolled bandages for the sisters to give out.” She looked down to the other end of the table at a large basket brimming with white rolls of cloth.

  “You did all that?”

  She nodded. “It’s such an easy thing to do but means so much. Some have injuries that get very little care and most have nothing to cover the wounds to keep them clean. I take all I’ve made to the sisters once or sometimes twice a week.”

  “I’m understanding more now why my uncles kept telling me you were too good for me.”

  She turned away from his touch. “Please don’t say things like that. It upsets me to be praised for doing something good for people in need.”

  His expression quizzed her. “Why? It’s true.”

  She couldn’t explain and didn’t really want to try. Feeling a pang of sadness, she offered, “As you know, our Society frowns upon a lady doing anything that might be considered work, but I’m not bothered by that. It feels good to be needed, to help others have a better life. I wanted to help the sisters pass out the food. Unfortunately, Sister Francine wouldn’t even consider it, but not because I am from Society.”

  “What then?”

  “I’m not capable.”

  He looked at her as if she might have lost her mind. “No. I don’t believe that.”

  “It’s true. She was right to refuse my offer. I would be giving extra handfuls to the elderly or people with children and then others would be left without anything to take with them. The sisters do it as equitable as possible. They have learned how to be compassionate while being dispassionate. Very difficult to do. They are good at being kind and just to everyone who comes for help.”

  “What you’re doing is kind too.” His eyes softened. “Why does it trouble you so to be thought of that way?”

  Because she knew how truly awful she’d once been.

  Zane touched her cheek again, this time letting his fingers trail over her jaw, down her neck and arm, where he caught her hand in his. Squeezing her fingers, he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the back of her palm. His touch was warm. The small gesture comforted her.

  “How did you get started doing this?” he asked as he continued his hold on her hand and placed it on his chest over his heart. “Did the sisters ask for your help?”

  Brina felt her defenses weakening. She didn’t know why but suddenly wanted him to know. But how much did she want to tell him?

  Understanding filled his eyes and expression. Brina was drawn even more to him. Beneath her hand, his chest was warm, solid. There was such strength in him and she wanted to rely on it.

  He lightly squeezed her palm again. “Tell me.”

  “By chance I was riding by the abbey and saw a long line of poorly clothed men, women, and children. They passed by a table where a sister dipped into a large pot and filled their cups and bowls with soup. Another sister would hand them a piece of bread. Not far away, another table was set up where sisters handed out bandages and little bags, something like the ones I’m making here. Later, I found out they were filled with herbs that had healing qualities. I went back several times to watch before I had the nerve to go inside and actually talk to one of the sisters.”

  His gaze was compelling. “Surely they were happy to have caught your interest.”

  All the inadequacies she felt after that first visit came crashing down on her and for an instant she didn’t think she could continue but then she felt Zane’s heartbeat beneath her hand. “Not at all, but surely you don’t want to know about any of this,” she said dismissively. It was another part of her past she kept hidden. She pulled her hand away from Zane’s grasp and walked to the window to look over the small garden.

  He followed and touched her shoulder affectionately. “Of course I do. I want to know everything about you.”

  Keeping her gaze set on the view from the windowpane, she whispe
red, “It’s not easy to talk about one’s shortcomings.”

  “Do you have any?”

  His tone seemed sincere, not sarcastic, and without really knowing why, she turned to him and said, “I told Sister Francine I wanted to join the abbey to help them take care of unfortunate people.”

  He blinked and his brows rose.

  “You look as shocked as Julia did the day I told her I wanted to leave my place in Society.”

  “I am,” he admitted honestly. “Making it possible for unfortunate people to have a cup of tea is a long way from taking a vow of poverty, service, and celibacy.”

  “I know.” She offered a bit of a sad smile. “The sisters do so much selfless work for others. They are strong, good-hearted women, and I have such admiration for them and all they do. I wanted to be a part of that. I felt if I could be good enough, help them, and help enough people, I could redeem—” She stopped and swallowed hard.

  He gently took hold of her shoulders and squeezed only enough to let her know what she was saying was important to him. “Redeem what?”

  She appreciated the shimmering light of concern that shone in his eyes and the earnest, honest appeal to have her tell him more, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want him or anyone to know all her past. As it was, she’d already said too much.

  “Too many things,” she finally said. “The sisters rise in the mornings thinking, How many suffering people can I help today? I rise and say, What will I play on the pianoforte this morning? What dress will I wear to the park this afternoon or to a dinner party this evening? My life was so empty, and helping people who truly need it was the only way I could think to help myself.”

  A sad laugh escaped past her lips and she shook her head. She didn’t know if she could ever make up for her past. “Sister Francine took one look at me and knew I couldn’t handle what would have been required of me physically or mentally. In my desperation at the time, I didn’t believe her, but she was so right.”

  “I have my own reasons for being glad she recognized you shouldn’t join the abbey.” He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her as he reached down and kissed her forehead, letting his lips trickle down to below her eyes before whispering, “But I refuse to believe you wouldn’t have been strong enough to handle it. You certainly seem to grasp how to handle me, and that is no easy task.”

  Brina found herself amused by his last comment and snuggled deeper into his comforting embrace, laying her check against his warm chest. “I can’t handle you at all. You frustrate me at almost every turn. And I found I’m not suited for a complete life of servitude, no matter my protests to the opposite at the time. Unfortunately, it took me a while to realize that while my intentions were quite admirable, they were not practical for me.”

  “What happened to make you aware of it?”

  “Actually, Julia helped me realize my inadequacies by proving to me that I didn’t know how to care for myself, so I certainly couldn’t take care of anyone else. I didn’t realize how sheltered my life had been and how incapable I was until I tried to do something. After a disastrous afternoon in a kitchen, trying to cook a meal, I concluded it would be best to aid the sisters in other ways. As I do now.”

  Brina raised her head and glanced over at the tea, cloth, and string, before looking back to Zane.

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I’ve never told anyone I was thinking of joining the abbey. Adeline and Julia know, of course, and the sisters. But no one else. I’ve never wanted others to know I failed.”

  “Failed?” He grimaced. “What rubbish.” His arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her forehead again. “You didn’t fail. You learned a lesson. An important lesson. Different people are suited for different lives.”

  “I do believe that now.”

  “You know, I feel the same way you felt. I’m not suited for the life of an earl. I would rather have the carefree life of a gamester than be deciding which of my family needs more allowance, which tenant needs the fees lowered, which party I’ll support in Parliament. I don’t want the responsibility for any of those things and many others. The only difference is that you had a choice. I don’t. I am the earl whether or not I’m suited, so I must learn to be the best I can be. That’s why I need you, Brina.”

  His words lifted her heart. She swallowed down the feelings of inadequacy that often rose inside her whenever she thought of the time she wanted to join the sisters. “I suppose you do understand. Your problem is that you don’t like following accepted rules.”

  “Rules are enjoyable only if you are breaking them.”

  Brina heard laughter in his voice. It rumbled in his chest. She closed her eyes and took pleasure in the sound before turning her face to his again. “Now you have me curious. What rules have you been breaking since I last saw you?”

  “None of yours, of course.”

  The mischievous light that touched his eyes made her realize how much she liked his sense of humor. “Are you sure? Not even a nip of brandy before you go to bed to settle your nerves?”

  “What?” he asked, with a guileless smile. “You doubt me?”

  “Spoken like a true rake.”

  He brushed his hand along the side of her face. “I’ve not broken any of the rules you set forth.”

  She stiffened at his words and pushed out of his arms. That was a problem. She needed him to.

  He tried to pull her into his embrace again, but she resisted. “What kind of person neglects the needs of others to go for a ride in the park? We’ve talked far too long. I must get back to my work.”

  “All right,” he said and walked over to the table and picked up a piece of the cloth. “Let me see if I can figure this out. You hold it like this.” He laid the white square in the palm of his hand and added a spoonful of the tea leaves to the center. After bringing all the ends together, he picked up a string and tied them in a bow. Holding it up to her, he smiled. “There. With me helping, it will take half the time to finish this, and we’ll still have enough daylight for a short ride through the park.”

  Zane knew how to touch her heart to make her feel wonderful. He was an earl! It was almost unbelievable that he wanted to help her do something so menial, but she saw in his eyes he was sincere.

  “That looks good,” she praised him before adding in a lighthearted tone, “but you don’t have it quite right.” Taking the little sack from him, she untied the bow. “You must give the fabric a twist like this and then make a very tight reef knot.” She quickly retied it and gave it to him to inspect. “That will secure it so it won’t accidently come untied and the tea be lost to the wind before the person gets home.”

  “Understood,” he said, then pulled out the chair in front of the items and sat down. He grabbed another square to make a sack as she had shown. “I’ll keep doing this while you change into riding clothes. If I haven’t filled all of them by the time you return, we will before we leave.”

  “What?” She eyed him with teasing annoyance. “You think you might complete these before I can change and return? There are one hundred squares here.”

  “Ninety-seven.” He started on another one. “We’ll see. I’m working and you are still standing there. I bet you I’ll have more than half of them finished before you are down and ready to go.”

  Brina started for the stairs but stopped short of leaving the room and turned back to the earl. A breathy oh passed her lips as she gave him a knowing smile. She walked closer to him. “Did you just offer me a bet, my lord?”

  His hands stilled on the string. His eyes narrowed enough to let her know that he knew immediately what she was referring to.

  “No,” he offered casually and finished tying the knot.

  “You did,” she insisted with mock seriousness, inching even closer to him. “You are caught. You said I bet you.”

  Zane smiled up at her and placed the bag on the table with the others but she could see a tad of worry around his eyes. Good.

 
He rose from the chair, slid his hands around her waist, and pulled her close. His gaze locked solidly onto hers. “No,” he insisted with an earnest expression. “I was not offering a wager. It was only a turn of phrase, a figure of speech, a slip of the tongue habit. Not a legitimate call for a bet.”

  His hold on her was friendly. She could have easily slipped out of his embrace, but she didn’t want to. They were alone in her dining room and suddenly she wanted his heart-thudding kisses again.

  “I’m not so sure about that, my lord,” she answered in a lighthearted tone, their conversation delighting her. Her shoulders swayed lightly from side to side, her hips rocking against the firm hold of his hands. “Perhaps you should try to convince me what you claim is true.”

  His arms tightened on her and his face moved closer to hers. “I do believe you are tempting me to behave badly, Mrs. Feld.”

  She nodded her confession and asked, “What are you going to do about it?”

  For a long moment he stared at her, taking stock of her teasing attitude to assess whether she was serious.

  “I may have to kiss you,” he said in a voice that was soft and enticingly husky.

  Yes, that was exactly what she wanted. Their last time together was seared into her memory, and she ached to be that close, that intimate with him again.

  He waited for a response from her. She remained silent, but her gaze moved slowly over his face. It was impossible to deny the yearning he had caused inside her. She reached up and let her palm slowly drift down his cheek and across his closed lips, marking their shape with her fingertips. After she lowered her hand, he took the initiative, bowed his head, and tenderly kissed her briefly on the lips.

  “Is that what you had in mind?” he whispered huskily.

  “No,” she answered on a gusty breath. “This is what I had in mind.” Her arms slid underneath his coat and circled his slim waist. She lifted her lips to his and pressed ardently to show him she wanted to be kissed with passion. Her mouth clung to his while her hands slid up his wide, strong back.

  Zane answered her kisses, and this time, held nothing back. His lips moved commandingly and hungrily over hers, his tongue probing and searching her mouth.