How to Catch an Earl with Ten Lies: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Patricia Haverton

  “You’ve spent the summers here?” Lord Newhorn’s eyebrows shot up with alarm.

  “It is not so very bad. We are on the outskirts of London here, and well away from the Thames and the docks. We spend a lot of time here in the park. Or we can go over to Hyde Park and go boating or even out to that new canal north of London.”

  “Do you mean Regent’s Canal?”

  “Indeed, I do. It is so new that it doesn’t have many pests about it. It is much more enjoyable to go boating if one is not eaten up by midges.”

  Lord Newhorn kept a solemn face, but his eyes twinkled. “Indeed, I can see how that would be. I must say that I admire your family’s tenacity. London in summer can be deadly in more ways than one.”

  “We know. But sometimes one must take the risk. I am not wholly certain, but I think something has happened in the last few weeks to cause my uncle to worry about our future.”

  “You are not to worry on that account, Miss Chapman. I have made a business deal with your uncle. Great as my own need for a wife, I have not made that arrangement contingent upon marrying one of his nieces. Although, I must say, I am beginning to find it a potentially pleasing prospect.”

  “Is that so, My Lord? Or are you just flirting with me?”

  “It is so, Miss Chapman. I have rarely been as well entertained as I have been these last few days. Please tell me,” he coaxed, “have you not found my company at least a little pleasing?”

  “In truth, I have, Lord Newhorn. Far more pleasing, in fact, than I anticipated. I had quite given myself up to the idea that this could be an ordeal, and am pleasantly pleased to find that conversation with you is highly entertaining.”

  “I am glad to hear it. Perhaps I can have hope?”

  Oh, now what do I do? I don’t want him to propose, not until I learn more about the duel and why he was banished. But I don’t want to put him completely off, either. Providing this charade has not already cast an evil pall upon my…uh, our…oh, dear…chances.

  “Shall we say, rather, that you should not despair,” she temporized.

  “You tease me, Miss Chapman.”

  “No, no. Not at all. I simply state that while neither affirming or disallowing chances, you should not despair. I do not find your company repulsive. Quite the contrary.”

  “Oh, damn me with faint praise!”

  “Should you use such language in my company?”

  “It is the language of the Bard. Surely such immortality would allow it in any company?”

  Penelope laughed. “Just don’t say it within my uncle’s hearing. He is quite convinced that my sister and I are shy, countrified ladies who have never heard the hostlers, farm laborers or even kitchen help swear.”

  “Do you intend to disillusion your uncle?”

  “Oh, dear no! It would cause him no end of distress. And while I cannot like the marriage mart, I understand his point of view. It is just…”

  “Just what, Miss Chapman?”

  “I would like to marry because I held the gentleman in some regard. I am not necessarily talking about romantic love, although that might be nice. But for my life partner to be someone with whom I can hold a conversation that has more depth than daily pleasantries.”

  “Now, that is a motivation I can quite understand. I will own to having felt a bit mulish when I heard the will read out. But I am beginning to think that under the correct circumstances, marriage could be quite pleasant.”

  “Do you, indeed?” Penelope looked up at him, quite forgetting that she had a role to play.

  “I do. Now I think that perhaps my people will have made all ready for us. Shall we go back? I hope you will like the surprise I have prepared for you.

  And I hope you will not condemn me and negate the business deals you have made with my uncle when you learn the deception that has been played upon you.

  Chapter 27

  Steelfrost had not anticipated stopping in the park, but his left wheeler threw a shoe just outside the gates. To pass the time, he alighted from the carriage intending to take a stroll. His hostler could just as easily as replace the shoe without him as with him hovering over his shoulder. Faster, even, if truth be told.

  The day was already beginning to become uncomfortably warm for the day coat and long trousers he wore, but he had not anticipated walking in the sunshine.

  As he returned from his walk, he saw a familiar figure ahead of him. He nearly called out, but he observed that the person was walking with a lady on his arm. The pair had their heads inclined toward one another, as if they were having an intimate tête-à-tête, even though a footman trailed behind them.

  Even as he watched, they turned off the main path into an area well known for being a quiet place for picnics and even lover’s trysts. The gentleman handed the lady up the steps to the shady area above, and the footman took up a stance of casual vigilance at the foot of the entrance.

  What were they doing? If this was who he thought it was….

  He felt a slow burn of anger. How dare he! Bad enough he had returned to this country. How dare he make an alliance, and with the lady who had refused him just before Christmas! He longed to push past the footman and to fling himself into the midst of their pleasure.

  But he did not. Such was the way of bullies and cads. His was the way of elegance and charm. At Christmastide, the lady had no dowry. Now, whether she knew it or not, her circumstances were rapidly changing. It would take very little now to persuade her guardian that marriage to himself was the only choice. She, who had been so proud and so scornful, would be his to play with for all her life. Or at least until he got tired of her misery.

  An evil smile curled his lips as he sauntered back to his carriage. Someone was going to pay.

  The hostler had finished putting a new shoe on the wheeler, and was just putting the team back into harness as he approached the carriage. His plan was not fully formed, but it was coming along nicely. All he had to do was work out the details.

  I will teach him what it is to mourn, to have all plans fallen into chaos. I will bring him down. I will see him bereft of all joy. And I will delight in his anguish, in every possible way. Just you wait, Lord Newhorn! I will dehorn you and you will be lord of a dung heap wearing sackcloth and ashes. Job will have nothing on you. Prometheus with his liver being eaten out will be in happy cases by comparison. I will bring you to the depths of Hades and below.

  Chapter 28

  Penelope emerged into the clearing where they had been meeting only to find it transformed. A green silk pavilion was stretched overhead, and a thick carpet covered the ground. A low table was set up in the middle of the rug, and thick pillows were placed around it.

  Over to one side a carafe stood over a squat little lamp. An amazing aroma rose from it, rich and dark. On the table were several platters of food, sheltered beneath clear domes to keep insects from landing on the various foods. The spread included comfits, bonbons, biscuits, nuts, slices of ham, boiled eggs, and more.

  “Heavens!” Penelope exclaimed. “Surely you do not expect us to eat all of this?”

  “We will share it with the good people who are attending us today so that they will not be missing their luncheon or tea.”

  “Oh. Well that’s all right then. I was worried. For a few moments, I felt as if I might be the Christmas goose.”

  “No, no. I just thought you might like to sample. I’ve also brought books, and an assortment of newspapers and broadsides I thought you might enjoy.”

  “And a lute!” Penelope exclaimed. “Do you play?”

  “I do not,” Benjamin admitted. “But I brought someone with me today who does.”

  A slender young man, who had been sitting cross-legged on a cushion beside the lute, rose gracefully, picked up the instrument, and slid its embroidered strap over his head. He bowed his dark, curly head in an almost bow, and struck an arpeggio of notes.

  “I did not think that you would enjoy it if I tried to find your window to stage a serenade ben
eath it.” Lord Newhorn smiled apologetically.

  “To be sure I would not! Nor would my uncle. If you have hopes of an alliance, I can think of nothing that would be more likely to end any consideration.”

  “Oh, no doubt! And since you have indicated that I might not call upon you in your townhouse, and inviting you to my home would cause speculation at the very least, I have brought Carew Jones to play for us today.”

  “Will this not attract attention?” Penelope asked. “Indeed, I am not certain that this is at all discreet.”

  “My dear Miss Chapman, we have your uncle’s blessing for courtship. Need we truly be all that discreet?”

  “T..to some degree, yes,” Penelope stammered. “I mean, meeting in the park is not all that comme il faut. But my uncle does like a quiet house, and, as you know, I prefer to be very quiet.”

  “Then you will be relieved to know that Carew’s family have been given permission to perform in the park for this week. I did take into consideration that a distraction might be necessary.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you for thinking of that. Since you have gone to so much trouble, I will sit back and enjoy the music.”

  The lutist gave a nod and followed up the first arpeggio with an array of soft notes. After a couple of minutes of listening, it was clear that the musician had every intention of remaining in the background.

  Lord Newhorn pulled out a chair and helped Penelope to be seated. Then he sat in the other chair.

  “This is very elaborate,” Penelope commented. “I cannot think that you have gone to all this trouble for a mere tête-à-tête.”

  “In a sense, that is exactly why I have done it,” he replied. “It is my hope that we can converse in a congenial environment that is not unlike an ordinary drawing room.”

  Penelope looked about her. A small buffet had been laid out for the entertainers and servants so that they could also be comfortable — a nicety that would not have occurred to many gentlemen, she thought. It did not occur to her that perhaps her own example of making sure that James had something to eat while they picnicked had anything to do with it.

  “Do you play a musical instrument?” Lord Newhorn asked.

  Penelope drew her attention back to the feast laid out before them, and to the tinkling notes of the lute. “No, My Lord, I am afraid that I do not. My sister does, quite well.”

  “Curious. I would have thought that you would both have received lessons.”

  “Oh, we did. And I can drum out a tune on the pianoforte well enough, but Sister has the true talent.”

  “Whereas you draw.”

  “Indeed, I do.”

  “Well, I suppose one cannot have all the talents. Are you enjoying the music?”

  “It is very pleasant. With this setting, I would almost expect a winged cupid to fly down upon us, firing his lethal arrows of affection.”

  “I will own,” Lord Newhorn leaned in just a little, “that I had hoped to set a romantic mood.”

  Penelope hid a giggle behind her napkin.

  “That’s not quite the response for which I had hoped,” he observed.

  Penelope dropped the napkin and laughed. “Oh, dear. My Lord, I found our quiet picnic that you brought last time quite sufficiently romantic. This is more what one might expect of an ‘at home’ where one is expecting guests.”

  He looked around at the quiet servants, the troubadour strumming away at the belly of his lute, and the gauzy curtains billowing slightly in the breeze. “I believe I see what you mean. But you cannot say that we are not well chaperoned.”

  At this Penelope waved her napkin, “I surrender. In truth, we are certainly well chaperoned, as you say. And you do provide the most delicious viands. Yet you must think me a poor thing, indeed, that it takes all this to gain my attention.”

  “Indeed, Miss Chapman, I scarcely know what might gain your attention. I see now that I have been a bit foolish, but is this not more comfortable?”

  “It is very comfortable,” Penelope conceded.

  “Then let us enjoy it. I shall know that I need not create so elaborate a setting for another time. If this is not quite to your liking, pray, tell me what you would enjoy?”

  “I know of a quiet riding trail that is sufficiently well appointed that we could enjoy the shade and a bit of exercise if we were to go in the early morning. James would be more than willing to accompany me, of that I am sure. But my uncle let the horses go back to the estate last month. He said they were too expensive to keep in London.”

  “Indeed, both grain and fodder have become most dear in the city. Well, it just so happens that I have a lady’s hack that you might enjoy and a two-year-old colt that your James could help with exercising. You told me he used to be a jockey, I believe.”

  “He was. And a very good one, I believe. But he took a bad tumble which has left him unable to safely put in the long hours on horseback that is necessary when training horses.”

  “Will he be able to ride for as much as an hour?”

  “I believe so. He used to ride out with my sister and me. It is too bad that she cannot go with us, as well.”

  “Why can she not, Miss Chapman?”

  “She is visiting each day with a friend who is getting on in years. She is quite a lovely old dear, and she has touched my sister’s heart. I believe they are reading Sense and Sensibility together.”

  “How very charming. Are you also visiting with this lady?”

  “Occasionally. She is a good soul, very fond of cats. I think it is doing my sister good to see her gentle example.” Just in time, Penelope remembered that the older, more abrasive Miss Chapman was supposed to be the one doing the visiting.

  “Well. Perhaps with the rough edges filed away, your sister will also be able to obtain a good marriage.”

  “I would be glad to have it so,” Penelope said, sincerely. “I believe that there is a gentleman who has caught her eye, but he must make his fortune before offering for her.” There. Close enough to the truth, but not so close as to expose our situation. But whatever is he going to say when the truth comes out? It is certainly embarrassing to realize that if I had not agreed to exchange places with Edie that she could now be enjoying all this. What a goose I have been!

  “Is it so?” Lord Newhorn asked. “That must be a great relief to your uncle.”

  “It might be, if the gentleman were a little more beforehand with the world. As it is, it will be some years before he can support a wife.”

  “Ah. Like that, is it? Well that is a sad situation for them both. What will she do?”

  “Wait. Depend upon me to make a good marriage, hopefully to a man that will not be unhappy at offering shelter to my sister, should the need arise.”

  “I cannot imagine any gentleman who would refuse,” Lord Newhorn said gallantly. “Nor who would refuse to extend care to your uncle at need.”

  “You would be amazed,” Penelope said, absently breaking a biscuit to bits. “More than one gentleman has cried off on that account.” She placed one of the bits into her mouth and chewed. Subtle flavors exploded in her mouth. Rich cinnamon, a hint of ginger, and something else that she could not quite identify.

  “Good, isn’t it?” said Lord Newhorn, as he watched the expression on her face.

  “Delicious! Do you think your cook would trade the recipe?”

  “I rather doubt it, but I will have a batch sent around to you. Keep in mind,” he added slyly, “my wife would be able to have some of these as often as she liked.”

  Penelope wagged one finger at him, “You are entirely too clever, and that is an exceptionally unfair argument.”

  “Miss Chapman . . .” Lord Newhorn began, but he was interrupted by an exceptionally loud peal of thunder. Rain began to patter on the silk of the pavilion.

  There was a sound of quick footsteps, and James entered the pavilion. “Begging your pardon, Miss Chapman, Lord Newhorn, but if we are not to all be drenched ‘tis best to be packing up.”

  �
�Right you are, James. Carew, thank you. Please put that beautiful instrument away where it will be safe.”

  The dark-haired musician gladly started tucking the lute into a large, leather case. Lord Newhorn muttered something in his ear, and the young man favored the Earl with a bright smile.

  “Come,” Lord Newhorn said, “the servants will pack all this up more quickly if we are out of the way. Let us get you into the carriage before there is a true downpour.”

  When they emerged from the retreat, and as Lord Newhorn handed her down the steps, she was surprised to see a brightly painted wagon drawn up behind the carriage, as well as a wagon with a canvas cover. No sooner had he handed her into the carriage, than the servants came quickly down the steps carrying hampers and bundles of items. The picnic things were barely stowed, and Lord Newhorn had just swung into the carriage, when the skies opened and there was a torrential downpour.