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

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Lured Into Sin By The Wicked Earl (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 9

by Olivia Bennet


  “Won’t they notice that we’ve disappeared?”

  “Not if his lordship doesn’t need any cleaning done,” Lucy replied, shrugging. “Come, what do you say?”

  The prospect of going out was exciting. Usually, she and Lucy would sit in the kitchen, whiling away time until they were needed on Tuesdays. She couldn’t lose her job—that would make things worse for her, but if Lucy thought they wouldn’t get caught… Susannah nodded her head.

  “Good,” Lucy said. “I know what’ll bring a smile to your face.”

  Susannah followed her out of the room. She didn’t know what to expect. Sometimes, Lucy was good for coming up with an adventure. Other times, they got themselves in a tight spot, just like the time her father had caught her, sneaking out to go to a subscription ball with Lucy.

  She recalled how he had called Lucy foul names, and then forbidden the two girls from talking. That had been just before Lucy had gone to London.

  * * *

  Adam was at the book shop, that was a few blocks from his home. He didn’t know what had driven him out other than a feeling of restlessness. He loved the scent of leather, ink, and paper. It calmed something within him.

  He had gone straight to the science section. The shop was dimly lit, yet it was neatly kept. There were rows of wooden shelves stuffed with books. The shop keeper sat behind the counter, reading a fat novel.

  There was a black cat, perched on one of the shelves. Its tail moved back and forth. Adam reached up to pet it, listening to the sound of the contented purr. He couldn’t recall the cat’s name. It appeared to live in the book shop, keeping the mice from eating the books.

  The door opened, so he went into the shelves to hide. He heard female voices, they talked and laughed. He recognized Susannah’s voice almost immediately. He smiled to himself. He didn’t recall the maids having the day off on Tuesdays—he knew Susannah’s schedule as well as he knew his own heartbeat.

  Curious to know how she came to be here, he moved out of the shelves. “Susannah,” he said, taking them both in, “and Lucy. How are you both today?” His tone was light, conversational. They both went wide-eyed and pale as they froze. Caught.

  “My Lord,” Lucy said. “It’s not Susannah’s fault. It’s mine.”

  “What might that be?” he asked, smiling. He wasn’t in the least bit angry, though he supposed he should be. He tilted his head to the side curiously.

  “She wanted to cheer me up,” Susannah explained.

  “Oh,” he said, concerned for her. She did look a little down at the edges. “Are you well?” He tilted his head to the side as he looked at her.

  “Susannah received upsetting news,” Lucy said. “She was really broken up.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. So, you decided to skip work?” He raised his eyebrow, looking at Lucy, whom he now knew to be an enabler.

  “Yes, My Lord,” Lucy said, raising her chin.

  “I must say, Lucy, I am impressed by your forthrightness,” he said sternly. “I think, given the bad news, I can overlook it this once.”

  “Th-thank you, My Lord.” Lucy was frowning, as though she didn’t quite believe him.

  “Please, don’t let me ruin your afternoon,” he said, bowing to them. “Although, I imagine Mr. Howard and Mrs. Braithwaite will notice your absences.”

  “They may yet,” Lucy said. “Although, our services are often superfluous on Tuesdays, My Lord.”

  “Not a thing to clean on Tuesdays?” he asked.

  “Not a thing,” Lucy confirmed with a shake of her head.

  He caught Susannah’s eye, and smiled at her. “Well, I hope you enjoy your afternoon,” he said, then turned back and walked into the stacks, where he began to peruse some new political treatises. From where he stood, he could hear the both of them whispering.

  He crept nearer, listening to them. He wanted to know what was wrong, and whether or not he could help Susannah.

  “Here, do you have this one?” Lucy asked.

  “No, I’ve not,” Susannah said. “I’d like it, but it’s too expensive, Lucy.”

  “In a few weeks’ time, you might be able to get it,” Lucy said. “After all, I’ve heard that Melbourne Bryce is the best.”

  “True,” Susannah replied. He heard her set it back down with a gentle thump.

  “Are you done, then?” Lucy asked.

  “I am. These two-pence books do cheer me up,” Susannah said.

  “Good. His Lordship’s correct. Mr. Howard and Mrs. Braithwaite might come to the room and check on us. I still want to stop at the dress shop for a bit of ribbon.”

  “What for?”

  “What for? What for?” Lucy exclaimed. “We’re going to the assembly ball. That’s what for.”

  “Oh.” Susannah didn’t seem excited.

  “Just think! Your first ball!” Lucy’s tone sparkled. It was clear that she was trying to cheer her friend up. Adam wondered what the news could have been—and from whom.

  Susannah paid for her books, and then they left the store. Adam walked down the aisle, toward where they had been. He picked up the book of poems by Melbourne Bryce. He had met the fellow; he had done a reading for a group of the ton.

  He had found his work interesting. It was a lovely leather-bound volume, with crisp new pages and woodcut illustrations. For a book lover, it was perfection.

  He could afford it.

  She’ll be so surprised when I present her with it.

  The thought brought him pleasure. He decided to purchase it. He wanted to give her something, if only to ease whatever pain she was in due to the bad news from home.

  The shop owner frowned at the volume, curiously. “I didn’t know that you liked poetry, My Lord.”

  “It’s always nice to try something new, isn’t it?” Adam replied.

  “That it is, My Lord,” he agreed. “This one is particularly a good seller. I’m surprised that even one copy was left on the shelves.” He quickly wrapped it up in some paper for Adam.

  Adam placed the money into Hawker’s hand, then bid the book seller a good day. He tucked his purchase under his arm and left the shop. As soon as he was out on the street, he wondered if he was losing his mind. Once he started giving Susannah gifts, then it was all real. There would be evidence.

  He paused, glancing at his reflection in a shop window. For the first time, perhaps ever, there was a sparkle in his eye. He was pleased to be giving her this gift. He wanted to see her smile when she unwrapped it.

  * * *

  Susannah and Lucy made it to the dressmaker’s, then stopped for some penny candy before returning to the house. They snuck their purchases into their room. Then, they had headed toward the kitchen. Mrs. Braithwaite found them there.

  “Oh, good,” she said. “I need someone to dust the library, and someone to do the parlor.”

  “I’ll do the library,” Susannah said. Lucy winked at her conspiratorially as they both walked to the closet to get their supplies.

  When she entered the library, Susannah didn’t look around. She merely got to work dusting. It was a relief that they hadn’t been caught by Mr. Howard or Mrs. Braithwaite. She didn’t know what would have happened. Only now, that it was all over, did she realize that she had put her job and life in jeopardy. And for what? A few books and some candy?

  I’m going to have to be less reckless in the future.

  She jumped when she heard a man clear his throat. When she turned, she saw that Lord Malmore was sitting in one of the chairs. He was smiling at her.

  “My Lord,” she said, her hand going to her sternum. She exhaled. “You gave me a fright.”

  He laughed, a warm, musical sound. He was seated in his usual chair, a book in his lap. He closed it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought you saw me.”

  “I did not,” she replied. She glanced at the book in his hands curiously. “What are you reading?”

  He glanced down at it, then got up, crossing the room. He handed it to he
r, she colored as she recognized the volume of poetry by Melbourne Bryce that she had been looking at in the bookstore earlier.

  “My Lord,” she said, looking up at him. She couldn’t imagine why he had gotten it. She hadn’t known that he was listening.

  “It’s a gift,” he told her.

  “I can’t accept it.”

  “You can.”

  “No one’s—”she sighed, relenting. “No one’s ever given me something like this before.” They hadn’t. Her parents always gave her things that she needed. They hadn’t the money to spend on superfluous things like poetry books.

  “Go on,” he insisted. “It’s yours.”

  Susannah held it to her chest. She was touched by how he’d remained behind to purchase the book that she hadn’t been able to afford. It was thoughtful, and immensely kind of him.

  He was studying her in concern. “Is there something I can do to help you?”

  “No, My Lord.” Susannah felt miserable. “There’s nothing to be done,” she said. “Although, I do thank you.” She looked down at the book. “I don’t know how I’ll explain this. Lucy and I share a room.”

  “You can keep it in here, if it helps,” he suggested, smiling at her. “Come on. I think there’s an empty shelf over here.” He led her into the shelves. They were all made of sleek mahogany. He showed her where there was an empty space.

  She slipped the book into place. There it was, surrounded by other leather-bound books, where it almost seemed to belong. In with her own things, it would stand out like a sore thumb. All she owned were penny books.

  “When you can spirit it into your room, just come and get it,” he said. “I so rarely have guests, that you’ll be able to get in and out completely unnoticed.”

  She smiled at him. The atmosphere between them was electrified. If she reached out, she knew that he would respond, and she wasn’t sure what would happen from there. It was like a game of dominoes. If she knocked the first one over, then it would start a chain reaction.

  “Are you pleased?” he asked. He was leaning in toward her. She could smell the now-familiar scent of him. She wished that she could bottle it up.

  “Very.” She cleared her throat. Her cheeks were bright crimson. She looked up and into his eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “‘Thank you’ should suffice.” He bowed to her, gallantly. “I’ll see you this evening in the lab.”

  “Yes.” She watched him go. She stood there, listening to his footsteps recede. The door to the library opened and closed after him. She covered her face with her hands, feeling the heat from her cheeks against the cool skin of her palms.

  She had wanted to reach out and touch him. She couldn’t help but feel like she had been tipped off-balance. This was the first time that a man—gentleman—had made her feel this way.

  She closed her eyes, imagining what would happen if he finally reached out and took her into his arms. The thought caused her whole body to light up.

  She imagined him kissing her passionately and plundering her lips with his.

  She opened her eyes, shaking her head. Her cheeks flamed with shame, knowing how scandalous her thoughts were. There was no way that it would ever turn out well.

  Susannah kept telling herself there was no way that Lord Malmore would ever marry her. She touched the book, his gift to her. Her heart broke a little, knowing that it could never be anything more than this. She was just going to have to get used to expecting so little.

  Chapter 12

  That night, Adam was waiting for Susannah when she arrived in the lab. He had made some progress with his mock-up of the device. He moved everything so she could clean the worktable. His palms tingled in anticipation. He spent all day looking forward to this time alone with her. He knew that it was wrong, but he knew, too, that if he could make her fall in love with him, he would fight everyone—his parents included—to be with her.

  She was perfect to him. She was untouched by the machinations of the ton. She lacked their artifice, the constant dissembling. When she smiled, no schemes lurked behind her eyes. She was so honest with him, though he knew that something was upsetting her.

  When he heard the sound of her knock, he felt his whole body come alive with desire.

  “Come in,” he called out, turning to watch her enter. The door swung open slowly to reveal her standing on the other side, a bucket and some rags in her hands.

  “Good evening, My Lord,” she said, entering.

  “Good evening, Susannah.” He had been right—something had changed now that he had given her a gift. It was as though his budding feelings for her were now confirmed.

  She moved silently, getting to work. She still seemed sad, and he wondered what was wrong.

  “Is something the matter?” he asked, wishing desperately that she would tell him what news she’d had that upset her so.

  She looked up from what she was doing. “Nothing to worry about, My Lord.”

  “You’re usually very talkative.”

  “I know, My Lord.”

  “Surely, something must be bothering you.” He knew he was pressing, but he had to know what ailed her.

  “I’m just a bit sad, is all. I should have expected it. Nothing to be done.” She continued to scrub, her hand moving in circles along the countertop.

  “Oh. Very well.”

  He sought ideas to make her smile. He had never wanted so urgently to make someone else happy before. With fine ladies, they never showed it when they were sad. They kept their true thoughts and feelings hidden behind a porcelain veneer. With Susannah, it was all on the surface—he could tell simply by looking at her. He got an idea, then.

  “Come here,” he said, holding out his hands to her. She raised an eyebrow.

  “What for, My Lord?”

  “I will show you what you missed at the subscription ball.”

  “What?” The corners of her lips curved upwards, though her eyes studied him closely. She didn’t move from where she was.

  “Come now,” he ordered, beckoning her to come to him. “I cannot have you sad.”

  She set down her rag, then slowly walked over to him. She wiped her hands on her pinafore. He took her one hand in his, placing his other at her waist. Holding her in his arms, he felt as though everything were right in the world. He felt a warmth flow through him as he considered what to do next.

  Dance with her, you fool.

  He cleared his throat, his cheeks heating up as he himself blushed.

  “Now, the waltz,” he instructed. “I do not know that they would have it at a country dance. Regardless, it is considered one of the most important dances.” He recalled the dance instructor that he had to suffer through. He tried to keep things lighthearted, so he spoke with the hint of a French accent.

  “I have no idea how to,” she said, roses blooming in her cheeks.

  “I will show you, not to worry,” he promised. He took her through the box step. She looked up at him, curiously.

  “I thought you hated balls, My Lord.”

  “I detest the ton, Susannah,” he explained patiently. He wanted her to know everything about him, so that she could decide how she felt about him. “It is not merely a dance. It is a den of liars and dissemblers. Everyone’s eyes are on everyone else, and everyone’s tongues drip with lies.”

  “I see.”

  Their eyes met. He saw that she understood the distinction. Perhaps, she even agreed after meeting Lord Wrentbour. “If it was simply dancing with someone I cared for, then it wouldn’t be so bad.”

  He liked being this close to her. It was the second time that she had been in his arms. It felt right. He had danced with many ladies and felt nothing. This was…he couldn’t believe how much he had yearned for this. To hold her close.

  He wanted to lean in, to brush his lips against hers. In his arms, she was relaxed. Adam held himself back. It would be crossing a line.

  One that I would be pleased to cross. He looked at her lips, his eyes dra
wn to their rosy perfection. His skin seemed to burn as she bit her lower lip. She looked at him, questioning. He smiled.

  “Now, I will spin you about, like so—” He spun her around. She smiled as her drab skirts twirled around her. He pictured her, dressed in a fine silk dress. She was beautiful, even in the simple maid’s dress and pinafore. She would blend in with the fine ladies of the ton, yet she would never be one of them, and he loved her for it.

 

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