Earl of Gold: Lords of Scandal

by Tammy Andresen

  “So why are you meeting this new man?”

  Penny gripped the table as Clarissa pulled again. She’d hoped that the Duke of Darlington would aid in her cause. This three-bedroom house fit the six of them, but she could hardly bring more children here. She needed a bigger space, more staff, and supplies for schooling if she really wanted to make a difference. “His Grace regretted to inform me that he could not personally contribute but that he had a friend that might be able to help.”

  Clarissa made a pishing sound as she pinned in the final curl. “So you’re going to meet a man you don’t know at all, and have no introduction to, alone?”

  Penny’s teeth clenched. “I have an introduction.” She paused, seeing Clarissa’s eyes harden in the mirror. “I don’t have a choice.” The truth was, not only did she need a benefactor to move them up in the world, they were dangerously low on funds. Acid spread in her stomach. She needed this man to agree to help her just so that they might continue to eat, and the children needed coats and…

  “I could come with you.” Clarissa stepped back, assessing her work. “Much better.”

  Penny looked in the mirror, noting that neat coif coiled in twists at her nape. Only a few pieces floated around her face to soften her features, accentuating her high cheekbones. “My hair is much better and thank you, but no. You should stay here. Natty and Fran need you.”

  Clarissa frowned. “We could all go. Wait in the carriage.”

  Penny looked down at the floor. She didn’t plan to take a carriage. The address the duke had given her was on the west side, of course, but she’d walk. A hack would take valuable shillings they didn’t have. Inside, she sighed again but she didn’t allow Clarissa to hear her this time. Life was often difficult these days. And Clarissa was too young to help her bear that burden. “I’ll be fine, Clarissa. Keep working with the girls on their letters. And put on your shoes.”

  “Why?” Clarissa sniffed, turning back toward the door.

  “I’ve told you why. You need them to move on from us and live your life and—”

  Clarissa wrinkled her nose. “I already have a job and a life. I educate the little ones. And I’m not getting married. You need me too much.”

  And just like that, Clarissa was gone again.

  It would be easier if that girl weren’t right so often. And how did Clarissa know she wouldn’t marry? Penny, despite the independent steps she’d taken, still sometimes wished for a husband to share her burden and provide a family of her own. But then she shook her head. That was never going to happen. She was already a spinster and her life was entrenched in these children’s needs. Still, sometimes she dreamed…

  Penny rose and left her room, almost conceding and taking Clarissa. The company would be nice. She had a hard exterior, Clarissa, but underneath that was a soft heart. And Penny loved her for it.

  Putting on her pelisse, she ignored the threadbare appearance as she buttoned it against the sharp fall wind. Then she set off, exiting her home and starting down the street. It would be a long walk. She looked at the slip of paper that held the name and address of the potential benefactor. The Earl of Goldthwaite. What an interesting name.

  She could only hope he was the sort of man with a generous spirit and giving nature and that was why the duke had sent her to meet him.

  Shadows were falling about the London streets when Logan finally returned home. He’d spent the afternoon in a series of Gentleman’s Clubs looking for potential partners. The search had proven fruitless.

  The men he’d met were either nitwits, had no head for business, or an appetite for nothing but leisure. It didn’t help that he couldn’t outright tell them about the club. The sword of secrecy had made communication near impossible.

  Now he wished for a bath, a meal, and bed—in that order. Of course, the stack of work that waited on his desk would have to be attended. Daring’s assignment was proving problematic already and for a brief moment, he considered leaving the venture all together. While he knew he could manage the work, the business of working with others might prove too difficult…

  “My lord,” his butler greeted him at the front door, giving his employer a sharp frown of disapproval. “You’ve a visitor.”

  “What?” he gritted out as he shrugged off his coat. He ignored the judgment from the other man, accustomed to his butler’s clucking nature. But what surprised him was the announcement that some person had come calling. No one visited him…ever. Unless it was his solicitor. All other business ventures were always conducted in neutral territory. An office, a club, or some such place.

  It was part of his strategy. People were more comfortable in their own spaces, which was often an advantage.

  The man’s eyebrows rose in what looked to be mild condemnation. “Miss Penny Walters. She had an appointment several hours ago. I encouraged her to reschedule, but she insisted on waiting.”

  His eyes briefly closed before they snapped open again. Shit. He’d forgotten. Which was unlike him, but why in the bloody blue blazes would she stay all this time? Ridiculous.

  And now he had far too much to do for how bone-tired he was. The last thing he needed was to delicately remove a female from his residence. “Where is she?”

  “The front sitting room,” Winter responded, “Where she has waited with an excessive amount of patience.” Then the man folded his hands in front of him, his mouth turning down a bit deeper at the corners. His eyes gave the accusation his mouth had not.

  Logan’s face hardened. Could this day get any worse? Was his own butler judging him now? The man was a bit unconventional, but he’d always been respectful.

  Logan made an abrupt turn and started for the sitting room, annoyance hot under his collar. He had no temper for this meeting.

  The door was slightly ajar, and he pushed it open with a satisfying bang, entering into the darkening room with all the subtlety of a herd of stampeding cattle. The gesture was meant to be less than welcoming and more like a clear message to get the hell out. He didn’t have the patience to be delicate.

  The day had been beyond frustrating.

  But if he’d frightened Miss Penny Walters with his display, she showed no sign. Her face was turned toward the window, her posture perfectly upright, her hands neatly folded in her lap. Her figure was trim, that was what he noticed first in the light spilling in from the hall. Very slowly, she turned to look at him, her features illuminated in the most breathtaking way.

  He locked his gaze on her large eyes, fringed with long dark lashes. Then he lowered his gaze to take in her small straight nose, accented by high cheekbones and lush full lips. If he were honest, she stole his breath. Which was most likely why he’d yet to utter a word despite his grand entrance.

  “Lord Goldthwaite?” she asked, rising slowly from her chair.

  If he’d come in like a blustering idiot, she was the picture of serenity. Not that she filled him with calm. Because he realized, while she was trim she was also quite…curvy. Delightfully so. His gut clenched as his body responded. Was her hair as dark and as full as it appeared or was that the dim light?

  “Yes,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.

  She began crossing toward him, a smile on her face as she reached out a hand. She showed no sign of irritation that she’d been kept waiting for hours. “I’m very pleased to meet you. I am Miss Penny Walters and—”

  “I know who you are.” His voice grated out. Was that his irritation or was it his desire that made him sound so guttural?

  Her smile slipped for just a moment before she placed it firmly back in place. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  He didn’t take her hand. “What are you doing here?”

  She folded her hands once again. Her shoulders remained straight, her back stiff as she continued to smile. How did she maintain such sunny calm? His gaze flitted down her body once again. He couldn’t seem to help himself, but her words drew his eyes back up to hers.

  “We had an appointment,” she said.r />
  “My lord,” Winters called behind him. “May I enter to light more candles?”

  Logan snapped his teeth together. “We don’t need candles. We won’t be long.” Truth be told, he wasn’t certain he wanted to see this woman in any more detail. Would she be as beautiful as he imagined or was partial shadow her friend? It was best he didn’t find out.

  “Mr. Winters,” Miss Walters called. “Perhaps just one.”

  The damn man slid behind him, crossing and lighting a candle just next to Miss Penny Walters.

  He straightened up with a breath of irritation. What was happening that she’d usurped him in his own house? It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the man to get out of the room. For that matter, the man could leave the house entirely. But the words died on his lips.

  Because Mr. Winters had never been a normal butler and Logan was used to the man, he supposed.

  But he soon forgot all about his errant butler. Because bloody hell if Miss Walters wasn’t even more lovely with added light. “Mr. Winters, after Miss Walters is gone, you and I need to have a chat.”

  “Of course, my lord,” the man answered, sounding wholly unconcerned. Then the butler left again without another word.

  Penny cleared her throat. He studied her again and noted that while her features were as stunning as he’d first imagined, her clothing left a great deal to be desired. Threadbare, her dress looked as though it had been mended several times. His little Penny was as poor as her name implied.

  “My lord, you’re right of course. I only need a moment of your time.”

  “How much?” he asked, crossing his arms.

  “I beg your pardon. How much of what? Time? As I said, just a moment,” she said, her brows drawing together.

  Her hand trembled ever so slightly, betraying her nerves. Somehow that knowledge helped him relax. She wasn’t as immune to him as he’d first believed. He leaned against the door jamb, one foot kicking in front of the other. She’d unsettled him after a long day and her calm had further made him feel inferior.

  He’d been an ass for forgetting their meeting, he knew that. But he was also the one with the fat purse. He could afford to be ill-mannered. She could not, he thought dryly.

  “How much money do you need for your orphanage?” he asked, crossing his arms. Best to move her out as quickly as possible and now that he thought about it, he might feel better to have accomplished one of Daring’s two goals so quickly. He was glad she’d stayed after all.

  “Well,” she paused “One thousand five hundred pounds—”

  “Done,” he said before she could finish.

  One of her brows quirked. “Annually should suffice for this first house.”

  His teeth ground together. “Three thousand pounds this one time and I want my name on the front plaque of the orphanage.”

  She shook her head. “The sum is very generous but without an annual income, I cannot afford the plaque because there will be no orphanage.”

  He scrubbed his face then. “Try to understand, Miss Walters, that a one-time sum is all I am willing to contribute.” It would fulfill Daring’s request and allow him to move forward with the deal. That was all he really cared about.

  She let out a sigh, her bosom rising in the most alluring way. “Very well. But you’ll have to provide the plaque yourself.”

  Chapter Two

  Lord, this man was odious.

  Penny shifted, ever so slightly. She’d learned to adjust her posture without actually appearing to move in her first orphanage at the age of twelve. The head mistress had insisted that they line up in perfectly straight lines and stand there for a very long time. It was an exercise in patience and conformity and Penny, disliking the little wooden stick used for corrections, had been an apt pupil.

  He didn’t seem to notice her movement and stared back at her with a thoughtful expression, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

  She’d calmed the beast that had roared into the room, at least. It was her gift. Stay calm, talk slowly, ask for what you want with a concise detachment.

  And he was a man who was used to people bending to his will. It was written in every handsome line of his face.

  The Earl of Goldthwaite.

  He was nothing like who she’d been expecting. His features were gorgeous with a square jaw, blond hair, and piercing golden eyes. But he had all the warmth of marble.

  His broad shoulders flexed as he pushed off the door jamb. “Three thousand pounds and a plaque?” He scratched his chin. “Very well. You’ve got a deal.”

  A rush of pleasure coursed through her. While the donation was not what she’d hoped, that sum would sustain them for two or even three years. Maybe more if she stretched. They needed a new home, of course. And she wouldn’t be able to buy one with this sum. But they’d eat and they’d have clothes. The house would just have to wait.

  It wasn’t just the space. More and more fine streets of London were moving the lower classes out and pressing them together into the East End. The neighborhood was changing, growing rougher.

  Penny flexed her hands. That was a problem for another day. At least they’d eat and be warm. There was plenty of time to find other benefactors that would allow her to purchase a larger facility.

  The very idea made her exhausted. It was so hard to navigate this world on her own but a single thought of the four girls depending on her and she straightened her shoulders. They didn’t deserve to stand in perfectly straight lines with whip marks on the back of their legs as correction.

  That was what she offered. A real life for them and a real home. Like she’d had as a young child. It had been ripped from her of course, and part of her yearned to have that life back, but at least she had her memories of a loving family and a real home. And she’d give that to these girls no matter how hard it was.

  She stretched out her hand once more. Would he refuse to shake it again? Her breath caught as he tentatively reached out. He’d already removed his gloves and his skin slid against the fabric covering hers, which sent an unexpected shiver racing down her back. His hand was strong, but his fingers were elegant, and they made her stomach flutter in the strangest way.

  “Thank you, my lord.” Heat filled her cheeks and she looked to the side at an overstuffed chair rather than at him.

  “I’ll have to collect the funds. Shall we meet here the day after tomorrow, say ten in the morning?”

  She gave a curt nod, disappointment making her breath stall. She didn’t relish another day wasted in waiting. “Perhaps you could leave the funds with Mr. Winter just in case you’re not here.”

  He chuckled then, low and deep. “So you weren’t happy about waiting after all.”

  She blinked, her gaze snapping back to his, which might have been a mistake, his eyes seemed to see straight into her. She had the feeling of being exposed and she visibly shifted this time. “Would you be?” she asked by way of response. She’d been furious. But she’d learned a long time ago that persistence was her best ally. The few donations she’d managed to obtain from other members of the peerage or from successful merchants had come from calm persistence and incessant smiling, and so she’d quelled her anger and settled in to wait. The first few hours had been rather nice.

  The walk had been long, and her life was rather busy, so resting here on his exceptionally comfortable furniture had been a welcome change. But as the hours had stretched, she knew Clarissa was bound to be worried. And she dreaded the return walk home. The East End of London was no place for a woman to travel alone at night.

  She’d liked to have vented her frustration the way he had. But that never got her anywhere. So she’d held it in.

  “No. I wouldn’t have been happy at all,” he said. “Which is why I would have left and made another appointment on a different day.”

  Ah. No wonder he seemed so irritated. He didn’t like that she’d waited. He’d obviously never gone hungry. If he had, he might have understood her urgency. “We had an appointment.” Sh
e pointed a finger at him, her brows going up. She didn’t like arguing as a general rule, but she also needed this man’s respect. He’d agreed to a one-time donation, but if he valued her, she might be able to get another. “I assumed you’d be here in a reasonable amount of time.”

  “Didn’t it seem obvious I was having difficulty keeping that appointment?” His back straightened, and she realized how much taller he was than her.

  She shrugged, just one shoulder rising. “I’ve children to feed, my lord. Their stomachs would not wait. And if I gave up after every missed appointment…” It was true. Tenacity was one of her best allies.

  “Fair enough.” He nodded, his voice dropping low and deep, the sound skittering along her skin, amazingly warm and pleasant compared with his hard appearance. “I shall see you in two days. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a great deal more work to do and the day fades quickly.” He swept his hand out the door. “Mr. Winters can escort you outside and flag down a hack for you.”

  “No need.” Her stomach twisted again at the idea of walking the streets home alone. Perhaps she should take him up on his offer after all. With the donation he’d just made, she could afford the hack just this once, but then again, there was so much to do and so little money to do it with.

  He paused, his eyes sweeping down her once again. They appeared to take in every detail from the frayed cuffs of her coat to her uneven hem line. His clothing, by comparison, was expertly tailored and in impeccable condition. Once upon a time, she’d dressed in fine clothing too but that was so long ago, before her mother and father’s death. Not since she’d been twelve had she lived that life.

  “I insist,” he replied.

  If she was tenacious, he was boorish, she decided, as he turned and started out the door in front of her, leaving her there. “My lord,” she breathed, lifting her skirt and following behind him. “I don’t need you to hail a cab. I’m perfectly capable of—” Did she lie and say that she’d hail one herself? Or did she admit to walking? She attempted to decide the best angle as she attempted to keep up with his long strides.