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Lured Into Sin By The Wicked Earl (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

Page 3

by Olivia Bennet

“Sure did.”

  “Good luck to you, Miss,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Susannah murmured, not knowing what else to say. He closed the door then stepped back. Susannah sank back against the seat breathing a sigh of relief.

  London was far more dangerous than she had expected. With any luck, she would learn how to navigate it. She raised her chin.

  There’s no going back now.

  Chapter 4

  When Adam entered his laboratory the next day, there was still the acrid scent of the failed experiment. He picked it up, putting it into the waste bin. He would dispose of it properly. As he looked at his lab, he began to notice that it was in a state of complete havoc.

  There was a fine layer of dust covering most of it. Cobwebs hung in the corners. The floor hadn’t been swept or mopped and it showed. Papers were everywhere covering the surfaces like piles of dead leaves.

  His tools were out, left wherever they’d been placed when he’d not needed them anymore.

  One of the things that his professors had told him was that a proper laboratory needed to be clean and orderly. He didn’t want to take a break. He couldn’t afford to. However, he also couldn’t work in there when it was this messy. He rang the bell and waited.

  The door opened, and Mr. Howard, his butler peered inside. “Yes, My Lord?”

  “Send up one of the maids and a footman. The lab needs to be cleaned.”

  “Very good, My Lord.” Mr. Howard glanced around, nodding in agreement.

  Adam remained in the laboratory overseeing the servants as they put it back together again. Cleaning a lab required specific training and he was the only being in the household with that knowledge.

  The footman was placing his tools back in their rightful places. The house maid, who had gone to get a bucket of water and a mop returned.

  “Make sure that you really scrub,” Adam ordered. “Use only hot water, though. Soap can cause a reaction with many of the chemicals that I use on a regular basis.”

  Adam turned his attention to his papers, which were spread out on the worktable. He began to set them back in order. He was the only person who could do this.

  He glanced down at his feet, finding that he was standing in a puddle of something sticky that had been dropped at some point.

  “I’ll let you both finish here,” he muttered, picking up his papers and then carrying them out of the room. He left his shoes by the door to the lab. He proceeded to his study where he began to peruse his papers in peace.

  Something is here, but what?

  His mind was hard at work, sort of hovering around an idea that was eluding him. It was irksome. He was so close to something. He could feel it in his gut.

  With the papers in disorder he could see his problem. He had been trying to do two things, separately, but when looking at them together they formed a more cohesive whole.

  His mind raced. He ordered the papers in a new way. There was something here. Something that might prove to be brilliant.

  If I could just figure out a way to make them work…

  * * *

  The cab left Susannah on the street in front of the Earl’s home. Luckily, she had not eaten much on her journey and she had more than enough to pay the fare. She handed the coachman her money. Then she turned.

  She stood in the street looking at the grand sandstone façade in awe. She had never seen a house like it. There were so many windows, all of them with neatly painted black shutters. The glass sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight. From where she stood, she could see the jewel-toned curtains and the warm glow of a fire within.

  There was a flight of stone steps leading to the sleek black door. By the sides of the door were large ceramic pots holding neatly groomed shrubs.

  There was only one grand manor near to the small town in her father’s parish and it looked like a medieval castle, ancient and rambling. Her heart pounded with excitement and pride. In a way, this was her home now.

  This is the first day of my new life.

  She walked up the steps to the front door which had a gold knocker shaped like a lion’s head affixed to its center. She took the knocker in her fingers tapping lightly. It was a long time before it was answered by a man with pure white hair and a quizzical brow.

  “May I help you?” he asked sternly.

  “I…I’m the new maid,” she stammered, suddenly nervous. “Susannah Humphries, Sir.”

  “I know that you have no experience with being on a household staff, Miss Humphries,” he said. “But you are never to use the front door. There’s a servant’s entrance in the back.”

  “Oh, um…sorry, Sir,” she stammered meekly, turning about.

  “This time, you may use this one,” he said his tone kinder. “Come with me.”

  She turned back around, deeply flustered, and then walked through the door.

  “My name is Frederick Howard,” he told her as they walked through the halls. Her eyes darted back and forth. “I am the butler. You will be overseen by Mrs. Braithwaite, the housekeeper.”

  “Yes,” Susannah said, although she was taking in the house.

  The interior of the house was incredible; there was thick, maroon carpeting and real silk wallpaper. Oil paintings hung on the walls and there were massive vases filled with lush flowers on little tables. There were so many doors, too. Her head swam. There was so much to learn. She knew that it would take her an age to figure all of it out.

  “You and Lucy will be working together while you learn the house and how we do things,” Mr. Howard said, as if he’d read her mind. “Once you’re familiar with it, then you will be assigned your own duties.”

  “Very good, Sir,” she said meekly. She was relieved that she would be with Lucy for a few days. It was a comfort to know that her friend would be with her while she adjusted.

  “You will be assigned a room in the servant’s quarters,” Mr. Howard said, leading her down the stairs. At the bottom, he peered inside of a room, knocking on the door as he did so. “Mrs. Braithwaite?”

  “Yes?” a woman in a neat black dress exited the room. When she saw Susannah, she smiled warmly. “You must be Susannah,” she said. She had silver hair which was pulled back into a neat bun. “Welcome to London.”

  “Thank you,” Susannah said, curtsying. “Thank you for giving me the chance.”

  “It was his lordship who agreed,” Mr. Howard said wryly. Susannah’s heart leapt at the thought that an Earl had allowed her to live out her dream. She didn’t quite know what to say. Just then a door opened and closed down the hall.

  “Susannah!” Lucy called out, bolting down the hallway and hugging her. “It’s so good to have you here!” Lucy paused, recalling their story that Susannah’s parents had both died suddenly, leaving her alone and destitute. “I’m so sad about your parents.” She took Susannah’s hand in hers, pressing it. It was amazing how she was able to make her round blue eyes seem to water up with tears.

  “Thank you,” Susannah said, marveling at her friend’s abilities. “They went very quickly so they didn’t suffer much.” Guilt settled like a weight on top of her chest. She hadn’t realized how much the lie would hurt her.

  “Have you finished cleaning the lab, Lucy?” Mrs. Braithwaite asked.

  “Most of it. The floor is cleared, and Jack has put the tools and such back into their right places, but the worktable and the shelves could use a wipe down and straighten.” She turned to Susannah. “It hasn’t been cleaned in months.”

  “You ought to finish,” Mrs. Braithwaite ordered, sternly. “Lord Malmore will want his lab back so he can get some work done. I’ll see to it that Susannah is settled.”

  “We’re sharing a room,” Lucy said. “I’ve made your bed up for you.”

  Lucy gave Susannah a bright smile and a squeeze of the hand, then made her way down the hall. Susannah felt a wave of relief. It was all going to be just fine. She had made it safely. Now, all she needed to do was to perform her duties well. She turned to Mrs. Bra
ithwaite with a smile.

  Once Susannah had stowed her bag and put on her new black cotton dress and white pinafore, she met Mrs. Braithwaite out in the hall. The housekeeper handed her a feather duster, as well as a clean rag.

  “Lucy is still working in the laboratory,” Mrs. Braithwaite explained as they both climbed the back stairway. “His Lordship rarely lets anyone in there, but he’s finally realized that it needs to be kept tidy. I’m going to have you work in the library this afternoon. Lord knows, the books need a good dusting in there.”

  “Very good, Madam,” Susannah said. “My own father had a bit of a library. I was often dusting his books.”

  “Was your father a scholar?” Mrs. Braithwaite asked.

  “No. He was a vicar, God rest his soul,” she said as piously as she could. She didn’t want to alert anyone’s suspicions. There had to be no reason for anyone to start looking into her past on the off chance that her parents had alerted anyone of her disappearance. She felt guilty about the lie, but it was necessary. Her new life was all about remaining resolute. Somehow, she would atone for all the sins that she was committing, just as soon as her life here was assured.

  Mrs. Braithwaite led her down the second-floor hallway, opening one of the doors. Susannah gasped. It was far grander than her father’s library had been by a long shot. There were floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with leather-bound books. There were two large mullioned windows with long green-velvet curtains that were pulled to the sides. The curtains matched the thick, green carpet which spread from one wall to the other. There were leather armchairs which faced the large, brick fireplace.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Mrs. Braithwaite said. “When you’re done, come back downstairs. Perhaps Lucy will be able to show you around by then.”

  “Thank you, Madam.”

  “You’re welcome. We’re glad to have you here. We desperately needed another housemaid, and you seem like a very eager worker.”

  “I am.”

  Mrs. Braithwaite left, closing the door softly after her. There was a hush to the house which settled pleasantly into Susannah’s bones. She wondered if all expensive houses were like this. Quiet, peaceful. She already liked it there very much.

  Susannah stowed the rag in one of the pinafore’s amply sized pockets, then she began to look around the room, dusting as she perused. There were dark mahogany tables beside the leather armchairs. She dusted the tables, peering at the tiny knickknacks set out on them. There was a book, on one. The title read: The Natural Sciences: Their Discourses and Their Study.

  Susannah frowned.

  Are not all sciences natural sciences?

  She walked toward the fireplace. Over it, there was an oil painting set in an ornate gilt frame. She gasped as she took in the most handsome man she had ever seen. His brunet hair was tied low and his honey-brown eyes stared at her with such an intensity she felt as though he could see into her. The heat of his gaze caused butterflies to form in her stomach.

  She took a step closer to admire the painting, thinking about how it would be to touch his hair. It looked so soft. She presumed that it was some ancestor of the current Earl of Malmore.

  At that moment, the door opened. She gasped moving back as though caught doing something illicit. The man in the painting was standing in front of her. She froze.

  The Earl.

  His arms were full, he had several tools and books, and he was carrying a bunch of papers, notes scrawled across them in his mouth. He seemed not to see her even though she was standing in the center of the room.

  Without paying her any attention, he crossed the room picking up the book on Natural Sciences from one of the tables. He turned and then left again, clearly in a hurry.

  The door slammed shut after him and Susannah let out her breath, only then realizing that she’d been holding it. It was as though she was invisible. Lucy had told her about the phenomenon in one of her first letters. It was a relief for it would have been awkward to explain to the Earl why she was standing in the middle of the library staring all moon-eyed at his very own likeness.

  When Susannah had pictured the Earl of Malmore, she’d presumed he was an elderly gentleman, with gray hair and wild eyes, like some sort of wizard. She had been wrong.

  He is extremely handsome.

  Quickly, before he came back, she began to dust the library. As she worked, she peered at the books and the objects within the room. Her father’s small study at home had been full of religious texts. This library was full of scientific ones, from the sound of the titles.

  She saw several shelves, filled with books of poetry which thrilled her. She ran the duster over them, kicking up clouds of dust. It had been a long time since they had been touched.

  As she worked, she considered what she knew about the Earl of Malmore. Her new employer was a firebrand. Lucy had told her as much, as well. That he was considered eccentric by the ton. She couldn’t wait to have a moment alone with Lucy so she could ask her more about their attractive gentleman employer.

  Chapter 5

  Adam was hard at work sifting through his papers in the study when there was a knock at the door.

  “My Lord?” Mr. Howard called out, as he opened the door. He only did that when it was urgent.

  “Hmmm?” Adam replied, still focusing on his work. He thought that he was on the verge of a breakthrough. He could feel it in his gut. It was exciting. He hadn’t had this feeling in years. It was like waking up after a bad dream.

  “Lady Cecily is here to see you, My Lord,” Mr. Howard said. Adam froze, turning away from his papers. Lady Cecily never came without sending word first, which meant that she was attempting to catch him at home, unprepared.

  “Really? Did she say why?” he asked, although he had a hunch. After all, he hadn’t responded to her father’s letter. Several days had gone by and Adam had let it go. He wondered what else could go wrong that day. It was hardly half-past four.

  “She said that she would like to speak with you but only if you can spare a moment.”

  Adam glanced at his papers. He had reordered them and though he hadn’t figured it out yet, he was close to something. He had pulled out bits and pieces, wires and wood, nuts and bolts. If he fashioned them into a device, one which would heat a material, perhaps…he sighed. It would all have to wait. He owed it to Lady Cecily to see her. She had engineered the situation so that he couldn’t say no.

  “Tell her that I’ll see her in the parlor. And, perhaps, have Mrs. Braithwaite bring in a tray of something. Tea, maybe? Scones, too, if we have any.”

  Yes. Lady Cecily likes scones.

  “Very good, My Lord.” Mr. Howard bowed and left.

  Adam walked quickly to his room, checking himself in the mirror. He looked rumpled but he straightened his cravat and put on a frock coat. His fingers were covered in ink stains. There was nothing to be done about that, or the dark circles beneath his eyes, or the day’s worth of growth of his whiskers. Not quickly, at least. He didn’t want to keep her waiting.

  When he entered the parlor, she was standing at the window which overlooked Harrington Court Road. She turned toward him, smiling at him sadly. He glanced over at her lady’s maid, who was sitting quietly in a chair by the door.

  “My Lady,” he said, bowing to her. “What brings you here?”

  “I am truly sorry,” Lady Cecily said, walking toward him. “But I think you know, My Lord.” She was dressed in a pale-yellow silk, and her golden blonde hair was in ringlets, framing her face. She looked devastatingly beautiful.

  “You’re here to end our engagement?” he said sadly.

  “Yes, unfortunately,” she said, handing him all of his letters, which were tied with a blue silk ribbon. “I wanted to see you in person.”

  “That’s very thoughtful and forthcoming of you,” he said, accepting them. “So, you agree with your father, then?” He stared at the handful of letters. He couldn’t help but feel betrayed.

  He remembered the day tha
t he had asked her to marry him, not six months prior. It had been a lovely summer day. He’d gone all the way out to her father’s county seat in Warwickshire.

  “Yes, I do,” she said. “What could I have done? You do care more about your lab than anything important.”

  “My lab is important,” he said. “I’m working on something that will help expand my business interests.”

  “More important than balls?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “More important than me?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t understand why I have to choose.”

 

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