“Would you teach me?” he interrupted.
She was stricken into silence at the request. Yes, the Dowager had mentioned that she hoped she might be able to ease conversations at the dinner table and perhaps teach him to dance, but she had not expected this.
She had not expected any gentleman to be open to such assistance, let alone ask her for her help with such unnerving honesty. His eyes were hidden in shadows but he did not look away, and he made no excuses for the request. He made no effort to jest or deflect.
This man, she realized, was too straightforward for such things. Too honest to hide behind flowery words and laughter.
Oh dear.
The ton would eat him for breakfast.
“I would be happy to be of assistance in any way you see fit,” she said.
His shoulders dropped a bit, and he nodded. “I thank you.”
The silence was thick and heavy. She wondered if she should take her book and flee. But he looked so lonely down here, his brow so heavy with concerns. And to be honest, were she to go back to her bed, she would merely continue to lie there staring at the ceiling fretting about her own sad state of affairs.
He gestured to the seat across from him by the fire and she sank into it, trying not to notice that she was only clad in her night rail and wrap, and that he looked like he’d stepped out of a dark mystery as the shadows flickered over his face.
“Where shall we begin?” he asked when he was seated across from her.
Her lips parted and then she clamped them shut again, the absurdity of this situation only now striking her. What could she teach an earl?
Embroidery?
She swallowed down a nervous laugh at the mental image of this man bent over his needlework.
The burgeoning laughter died a quick death as she glanced up at him again. His eyes were on her and she had the unnerving sensation that she could feel them moving over her face, his gaze a heavy weight on her skin as he sought to see through her. The sensation seemed to flicker over her skin and she could no longer sit still.
Abruptly she stood and he leapt up too. Ever the proper gentleman, even when wearing nightclothes.
Well, she was wearing nightclothes. He was wearing…oh my.
Her gaze fell to take in his clothing and heat flushed her cheeks when she saw that he’d removed his waistcoat and cravat to reveal a hint of flesh at his neck. She brought her gaze back up quickly and was grateful for the shadows that hid her blush.
He dipped his head to level her with a stare. A glare. No, she did not believe he intended it to look so very frightening. “Did you wish to teach me to dance?”
She blinked. It made sense, perhaps, that he took her sudden leap to her feet to mean that she wished to do something physical.
Dancing. Yes, why not?
The answer to that became clear the moment he held her in his arms.
Her breathing grew shallow. This is why not, you ninny. The man did things to her. Unintentionally, perhaps...
Unintentionally, definitely.
Without music, their movements felt that much more intimate. The fact that they were alone and in the dark did not help the matter.
It occurred to her in a flash just how compromised she would be if anyone caught them like this. Together. Of course the only people who would catch them would be his servants or his family, none of whom would pressure this man into marrying a girl who was already an object of gossip and scandal.
His gaze was inscrutable as he moved stiffly. He came to a stop so suddenly she stepped on his toes. “My apologies. This is not at all proper behavior, is it? I should never have asked that we start these lessons now.” He looked around them at the empty room. “Here.”
She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at his consternation. “I will not tell, if you do not.”
His gaze shot to hers and when he saw her small smile, his eyes seemed to warm in response.
“It is not right,” he said. “Your reputation—”
“Is already ruined.” She hated how bitter it sounded and rushed to ease it with another smile. “I’m not sure one can be more ruined.”
He sobered instantly, his hand clenching against her back. “Of course one can.”
The silence nearly killed her. Did he have any idea how that sounded? Did he know how sinister and seductive it sounded in the dark empty room?
He dropped his arms quickly. “You are my guest. You are under my protection. I would never do anything to harm you.”
“I didn’t think you would.” She couldn’t help the laughter in her voice. He truly was so very serious.
He did not appear to be listening to her as he took another step back. “I was perhaps too eager to begin these lessons, but there is no reason we should not wait until the morning.”
“Actually, there is a very good reason.” What was she doing? If she had any intelligence, she would have run away the moment she got the chance.
Instead, something inside her seemed determined to rebel. She’d spent a lifetime being the perfect, proper young lady, and where had it gotten her? With nothing and no one—a charity case at the mercy of others’ kindness. With no prospects for a good marriage, or the happy home she’d so desperately craved.
Alex had not moved a muscle. “What reason is that?”
Oh yes, right. Excitement had her heart fluttering in her chest as she explained. “Lady Amelia Goodwin will be arriving tomorrow morning to visit your sister.”
He frowned. “I do not believe I know her.”
“Perhaps not. She is young, the same age as your sister. She has not yet made her debut, but I believe she and Tess became fast friends at a house party last year.”
His frown deepened. “I did not know that.” He scrubbed his forehead. “It seems there is much I do not know.”
Her heart went out to him. “I understand you were often away, before—” Before your brother died. “Before you moved back to this estate.”
She might have been mistaken but she was fairly certain his lips twitched upward. “Yes. Away.”
“Traveling?” she prompted. She already knew the answer. Aunt Gertie had filled her in on this family during their long carriage ride only that morning.
“No, nothing so exciting, I’m afraid.” His tone was droll, and she found she liked this touch of humor in a man so deadly earnest. “My father gave me a property and a living so I might pursue my studies.”
“Ah,” she said. “Well that would explain why I never saw you out in society.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, and for a moment he looked delightfully boyish. “I enjoy solitude, but now I wish I’d paid more attention. Participated in more society events. Perhaps then I would not feel so…”
He did not finish and for that she was glad. She reached for him, her hands gripping his upper arms in a move that seemed to shock them both. “Do not despair,” she said, with enough conviction to make his brows arch. “I will make sure you are the most charming of all the Earls of Charm by the time Lady Olivia arrives with her family next week.” She dropped her hands when she realized the heat from beneath his thin shirt was burning her. “We start tonight.”
His lips were doing that movement again. Little more than a twitch but it warmed her heart. She had a feeling it was as close to a grin as he would get. At least for tonight.
She spun and pushed the chairs out of the way. “Come, we shall start with dancing.”
“Will I be expected to dance with this Lady Amelia over tea?” he asked, amusement in his voice.
She spared him a tolerant smile. “Of course not, but I have always found that focusing on movement makes it easier to speak. It’s impossible to overthink your words when you’re keeping track of your feet.”
“And is overthinking a problem?” he asked. She couldn’t tell if he was amused or confused by this logic.
“Of course it is,” she said, straightening with her hands on her hips. “You are clearly a very clever man
, and I am afraid that has been your downfall.”
Amusement made his eyes warm and soften. “Has it, now?”
“Indeed.” She held her arms out, prompting him to do the same. Soon they were waltzing again, and it was delicious. How long had it been since she’d danced with a gentleman? Her dancing this past year had been confined to playing the part of a man while instructing her cousins and sister.
Despite the fact that he was rigid, Alex was a delightful dancer. His arms were strong around her, his movements shockingly graceful, and his feet moved in perfect time.
And then there was the way he smelled—all masculine leather and soap—the way his body surrounded her with a heat that was both comforting and exciting.
The silence stretched too long. For a lady who was purportedly an expert in small-talk, she was failing spectacularly. To her surprise, and likely to his, he broke the silence. “The Earl of Charm nickname,” he said. “It started with my grandfather.”
She looked up in surprise.
“He was notoriously charming,” Alex said. “He threw lavish parties, and was beloved in society.” His gaze was fixed somewhere near her ear, and she found herself holding her breath lest he stop. The sound of his voice in the dark room was hypnotizing, its low timbre sent shivers down her spine. “My father too,” he continued. “He was well known for his boisterous laugh, for the way he could make any lady, young or old, feel like a diamond of the first water.”
Something dropped in her belly, a weight she hadn’t known was there, fell to the pit of her stomach and sank slowly as she watched his eyes grow distant and the smallest, most beautiful smile curve his lips. The movement softened his harsh features, and in this light he was so, so…
He was so very handsome.
Her breath hitched and it was a good thing he was a proficient dancer because she could only let him lead as she struggled to keep her senses.
“Frederick—” He looked down at her. “Did you ever meet my brother?”
“I had the pleasure multiple times,” she said softly. “We even danced together once at the Landers’ ball two seasons ago.”
There was that smile again, small and so very rare she felt like she were being let in on a secret. “So you know, then,” he said. “You know just how charming he could be.”
She nodded mutely, her throat choked at the sadness in his eyes.
His brother had indeed been charming. Filled with energy and laughter and a virility that was impossible to ignore. And yet…
And yet, she could not recall feeling anything like this when she’d danced with his brother.
She thought he might not speak again, but after a long silence, he met her gaze directly and the pain she saw there cut her to the quick. “So you can see,” he said slowly. “What a disappointment it would be to my father and brother to know that the silly nickname that they loved so much has become nothing more than a jest when it comes to me.”
Disappointment. The word seemed to echo between them. She blamed the shadows and the quiet of night for her bluntness. “Is that what you’re fretting about?” she asked. “That you will be a disappointment?”
He stopped dancing, but he did not pull away. They stood there like that for what felt like an eternity. “I do not want to let them down,” he said. “I do not want to fail my sister, my family, the legacy I’ve been given—”
“And you won’t.” She surprised herself by the depth of emotion in her voice, but she couldn’t bear to hear him talk like this. “Charm is overrated,” she said. “By all accounts, you are intelligent, and noble, and responsible—”
He let out a little huff of rueful amusement. “Oh yes, I am all of those things. But I am afraid being responsible will not make Olivia forget that I am not my brother. Being intelligent will not make me fit into society any better—”
“Being responsible is far more important than being able to talk to ladies at a ball,” she said. Straightening, she let her arms drop, ignoring the chill that came when she took a step back away from his warmth. “Trust me,” she said. “I speak from experience. Being able to charm the ton means nothing compared to being able to take care of your family. You have integrity and a true desire to protect your family and your earldom. That means more than anything.”
He stared at her wide-eyed after that outburst. Perhaps she’d gone too far…
But he didn’t seem angry when he finally spoke. “You talk as though you know me well.”
She smiled. Oddly enough, she felt as though she did. Or at least…she wanted to.
Her breath left her in a rush at the thought.
Oh heavens, she liked him.
“I must apologize,” he said with a shake of his head. “I should not have unburdened myself to you like that.”
“Nonsense,” she said quickly. “We are friends. That is what friends do.”
His brows inched up toward his hairline. “Are we friends, Miss Lovelace?”
Once again she was grateful that the shadows hid her blush. “Please, call me Clara. Would you like to be?”
He hesitated for the length of a heartbeat. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I would like that very much, Clara.”
Her heart did a silly little dance in her chest. “As would I.”
He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it slightly.
She bit back a grin. Ruffled look good on him. She would love to see him truly disheveled one day. Maybe even beside himself with passion and—
“You are so easy to talk to,” he said suddenly.
Her heart fell a bit because it was clear to her why she was so easy for him to talk to. She was nobody. There was no chance that he would be expected to woo her, let alone marry her.
She was easy because she was safe. Little more than a servant.
Once upon a time she might have been someone he looked to with thoughts of marriage. If only she had not lost her standing in society, if she still had wealth and a good name. If only he were not the new earl and expected to honor his brother’s engagement.
If only, if only, if only.
She let out a sigh of impatience with herself. She’d grown up a long time ago, and when her father took his life and left them with nothing? The last of her childish daydreams had gone with him. Now was not the time to be looking for fairytales and knights in shining armor. Now was the time to be practical. There were worse fates than to be friends with an earl. “Shall we practice for tomorrow?”
He nodded. “Practice,” he repeated. “Excellent.”
“Now for our next lesson,” she said, prim and proper once again. “When it comes to speaking to members of the ton, there are only two things you must remember.”
His gaze narrowed as his attention fixed on her.
She ticked them off on her fingers. “Ask questions and listen.”
He frowned. “That sounds too simple.”
“It is simple. But most people still haven’t mastered it, particularly not the second part.”
He arched his brows as he nodded, as though acknowledging the truth of that.
“Everyone wants to feel important,” she continued. “Everyone would like to believe they are the center of the universe.” She shrugged. “Make them feel that way.”
He blinked a couple of times as though processing the words. “I can do that.”
She nodded, smiling brightly. “Start with me.” She dipped into a curtsy and rose with a simpering smile that made his lips twitch in turn.
Her heart stuttered at the sight but she ignored it. “What would you ask me?” she murmured softly.
He opened his mouth, then closed it, then his brow drew down in a frown. “I have no idea.”
She laughed. “You could ask after my family—well, not my family, but if I were another lady you could ask after family. You could ask my hobbies…” She continued to rattle off a list of topics as he stared at her.
“Is this Lady Amelia one of the ladies my aunt has in mind should Lady Olivia decide to marry
another?”
The question brought her back to the moment with a jolt. “Of course not,” she said. “Everyone knows her family has an agreement with the Duke of Harlow.”
“I did not know,” he said.
“Yes, well. I believe we’ve already established that you have not been staying abreast of society gossip these last few years.”
He hitched his lips to the side in a rare show of rueful amusement.
“But that is precisely why she will be such good practice for you tomorrow,” she continued.
“Practice?”
“Indeed. There is no pressure to win her over since she is practically married to another as it is. Besides which, she is lovely and delightful, and will do all in her power to put you at ease.”
He let out a long exhale. “Yes, I see. She will be good practice because there will be little pressure to impress.”
“Exactly,” she said with a smile. “She has as little chance of being your bride as I do.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Now why on earth had she said that?
Now it was awkward. His gaze met hers and she thought she saw a question there. She refused to acknowledge it, her smile firmly in place. “Shall we continue?”
Chapter Three
The next morning found Alex surrounded by ladies. Never in his life had he been the object of so much attention. He supposed he had Clara to thank for it.
Clara. His friend.
The thought would take some getting used to. Unbidden and unwanted, he had an image of Clara in his arms, her smile sweet, her body warm, her eyes filled with an intoxicating glow. Witchcraft surely, for there was no other explanation for the way he’d behaved. So utterly out of character. Not just the impropriety of it all, but the way he’d talked to her, as though they’d known one another for a lifetime and not mere hours.
Ludicrous.
And yet, he could not bring himself to regret it.
He found himself watching her now, properly dressed and in the stark daylight of the drawing room, looking for a clue as to what he was supposed to say.
Lady Amelia sat opposite him with a pretty smile on her face. The girl seemed young to him—so young, and so very cheerful. Clara had been right—she was excellent practice.
Earl of Charm: Wicked Earls’ club Page 3