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

by Olivia Bennet

  The flakes were large. They looked like feathers falling all around her. She was most surprised by the silence. It was as though the sounds of the city had been muffled. There, in the garden, she could have been in another world.

  She heard footsteps on the flagstones behind her, and she turned to find the Earl walking toward her. With the snow falling in gentle flakes around him, he looked almost magical.

  His cheeks were red in the cold. He was smiling as he took her in, his eyes soft. She knew that he felt something for her, but she wasn’t sure of his intentions.

  Is he going to ask me to be his mistress? Is that what happens next?

  The idea of it made her throat tighten. She didn’t want that. She certainly wanted to have a life, but she also didn’t want to throw her virtue away. Not to a man who would put her aside when a proper lady came into his life.

  His position and her lack of one stood between them. However, her lies also stood between them. It was a double wall. They could never be anything. Not when there was so much to keep them apart.

  “My Lord,” she said, curtsying. “I’m so sorry. No one usually comes out here, so I thought it would be all right.”

  “I saw you from the drawing room,” he said. “You looked sad, so I wanted to come out and check on you.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” she murmured, nervously. If he could see her then anyone could spot them together. As though sensing her nerves, he gestured with his chin.

  “There’s a pond over that way,” he said, gesturing with his hand. “Have you seen it?”

  “No, My Lord.”

  He offered her his arm as though she were a proper lady. She slipped her hand into the bend in his elbow. The cloth of his coat was fine and thick. She could feel the warmth of his body. Her face, she knew, was bright crimson.

  He led her into the hedges, which made a little maze through the back garden. As they moved through them, the house was hidden from view. The garden was well-kept, even in winter. The box hedges were covered in a layer of snow that looked like sprinkled sugar.

  As they walked, he spoke. “A previous Earl of Malmore, I don’t recall which, had this pond put in,” he explained. “He was famously in love with ducks. Had the whole place decorated with them. I’ve been able to do away with most of it. I’ve had the devil of a time doing it, though.”

  She had seen vestiges of this. “Is that where all of the stuffed ducks in the attic come from?” Lucy had shown her the week that she’d arrived. A whole flock of stuffed ducks had been banished to the attic, where they remained, covered in dust and cobwebs, their beady eyes staring back at anyone who went up for a visit.

  “Indeed,” he said, shuddering. “Frightful.”

  She found herself laughing. Once they arrived at the pond, she peered into the water. It was tea-colored, filled with layers of leaves and other detritus. The falling snow caused ripples across its surface. She could see their reflection, the two of them standing side by side. Together in the surface of the water. Her face was sad. She watched as he glanced over at her.

  She had an overwhelming feeling of desperation. She felt utterly torn when she saw the way that he looked at her, his eyes soft. She could not keep a secret from him. Especially not one that felt as though it were tearing her in two. She would have it only be his position in society which separated them. She would not let this lie stay between them.

  “What ails, you, Susannah?” he asked, gently.

  She turned to him, her heart hammering against her chest. Susannah was frightened that he would hate her for lying to him. He might even tell her father where she was. He might send her away. She felt sick.

  “I can tell that something’s bothering you,” he said. “Please. I’d like to help, if I could. You can tell me what it is. You can trust me.”

  She swallowed as she worked up the nerve. He had been so honest with her, and so kind. She owed him the truth. Of anyone that she was lying to, she needed him to know the truth. She thought that if he turned her away for her lies, then she deserved it.

  “I’ve lied to you,” she said, her heart breaking because she knew that he would be angry and might send her away. “And I feel absolutely awful about it. You’ve been so open and honest and lovely—”

  “What is it that you lied about?” he asked.

  “My parents are still alive,” she said, as the truth came pouring out of her. “My father is a strict man, and I wanted to have a life, one where I got to make decisions. Lucy sent me a letter about the job, and I just…left. You have to understand, I love my parents. It doesn’t feel right, saying that they’re dead, when they aren’t.” A tear slipped from her eye, and she wiped at her cheek, quickly. She glanced up at him, her heart pounding. He was nodding. He looked at her.

  “Thank you for trusting me with the truth,” he said. “I can understand what it’s like, wanting to live a life that is your own.”

  “You’re—not going to send me away?” she asked, surprised.

  “No,” he said, “I’d never.” He stepped closer to her. “I told you, Susannah. You can trust me to do what’s right.” He took her hand in his. “Do you feel better, having told the truth?”

  She closed her eyes. Now, with the truth revealed, she did feel a little better. She nodded, then opened her eyes. “Thank you.” She felt relieved, as though a great weight had been lifted from off of her shoulders.

  He smiled. “Mrs. Braithwaite says that you’re going to the assembly ball this evening?”

  “Yes. My first one ever.” She wanted to say, not counting the night before. Somehow, she didn’t know how to say it.

  “How exciting for you.” His eyes seemed to sparkle. Susannah’s heart leapt.

  She smiled. What she wanted to say was that she wished that he would be there. But she would never be able to give voice to her dream. He wouldn’t be able to come. If they were seen together in public…she would be the one to pay for it.

  “Come,” he said, looking up at the pale gray sky. “We should head back to the house. With the snow, it’s getting quite cold.”

  She nodded, then they headed back to the house. They went back inside, parting with a silent look on the stairs. She went down toward the kitchen. She could hear his footsteps climbing upward. She sighed closing her eyes.

  What am I doing?

  Now that she had already taken the plunge, had already become close to him, there was no turning back. He had forgiven her for the lie immediately and without hesitation. She could do no wrong in his eyes it seemed. She wished that he would have held her more accountable.

  Instead, he’d understood. One of the two walls that had separated them was now gone. She didn’t know if the other one could ever be removed. Perhaps, he would ask her to be his mistress. She didn’t want that for herself. She would have to turn him down come whatever negative consequences. She wanted more.

  Chapter 14

  After talking to Susannah, Adam went into the parlor. He poured himself a glass of brandy from the sideboard. Then, he went to one of the armchairs, taking a seat by the fire which crackled merrily in the grate. He sniffed. Someone had placed applewood in with the fire, causing a sweeter smell to permeate the room. It was pleasant.

  He was warm inside of his cozy home. The knowledge that Susannah was nearby made his heart swell. Now that she had told him the truth about her situation, it seemed that she’d opened a door. She was letting him in.

  It signaled that she was willing to open her heart to him. It gave him hope. He would need to speak with her the next night, when they were alone. Adam planned to tell her how he felt, and he wanted to find out how she felt about him.

  When his parents came, he would be watched, closely. He wanted to be sure of her affection before his parents showed up. If he and Susannah were to have a future, then they needed to be firm in their intentions. Lord and Lady Wiltshire always presented a strong front. They were rarely divided on anything. Which meant that Adam and Susannah needed to present
an equally strong front.

  Adam sat, drinking the brandy, staring into the depths of the amber liquid. He had known several women—he had slept with one, a booze-filled encounter one night back at Oxford. She had shown him how to please a woman. It had been a mutually beneficial experience for the both of them. But he had never felt for any of them even half of what he felt for Susannah. This was different—it was love.

  His father’s face, with a stern frown of disapproval, filled his mind. The Marquess would never approve of her. Since Adam was to be the next Marquess, this would be a disagreement of epic proportions.

  He considered what to do about it. He wanted to live a life wholly his own. Susannah herself had shown him that it was possible. She was providing for herself—she had come so far. That she had trusted him with her secret meant that she had feelings for him. It had to mean that she did. Why else would she tell him the truth? He could see how she felt in the softening of her eyes and in the upward curve of her lips when she saw him.

  She was absolute perfection to him. He wanted her—not to possess her but to love her, to cherish her. She was the companion that he had been searching for but had never found until now. Of course, she wasn’t a lady. But how could he fall for a lady of the ton? It was impossible!

  She had entered his life at just the right moment. Here he was, poised at the precipice, ready to jump. He was ready to take his life into his own hands. He needed to keep this from Gerard and his parents for as long as possible. They would forbid it outright.

  He knew what he needed to be happy. Susannah was the answer. In her eyes he was his best possible self. Ever since he had met her, suddenly, all things felt possible. His invention was coming together, slowly but surely. He was beginning to see a life for them—with children. They wouldn’t have to go spend time with the ton. They would live in this house and they would be happy.

  In order to have that life Adam would have to fight everyone that he had ever known. That was the problem with knowing oneself, he realized.

  Sometimes, you had to fight for your happiness.

  * * *

  Lucy and Susannah were seated at the table in the servants’ dining room. Simone was in there reading a book, sipping a cup of tea. Lucy and Susannah were eating a light supper before they went to prepare for the ball.

  “We ought to get going,” Lucy said.

  “You go,” Susannah said. “I think I’ll stay in.” Now that it came down to it, she didn’t want to go. If she couldn’t dance with the one person that she thought of, constantly, then what was the point?

  “Susannah, are you serious?” Lucy stared at her with wide eyes.

  “Very.”

  “The whole point of coming to London was to experience things,” Lucy pointed out.

  “If she don’t want to go, then don’t make her feel bad about it,” Simone told Lucy sharply. “Not every young girl is looking for a husband like you are.”

  “Even if you don’t want a husband you can still go to the dance,” Lucy said. “You’ve never been to one.”

  This was true. She was so tired, though. She sighed, steeling herself for the night that lay ahead.

  Susannah set her cup aside. “Very well,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  “Have fun,” Simone said mournfully.

  “Should we have asked her?” Susannah asked.

  “She wouldn’t come.” Lucy grabbed Susannah by the arm, leading her down the hallway then up the back stairs to the servants’ quarters.

  Back in their room, they both moved quickly. There was so much to do before they could leave.

  “It starts in only an hour and a half,” Lucy muttered.

  Susannah took off her maid’s uniform taking her muslin dress out of her little closet. She stepped into it, pulling it on.

  “Here,” Lucy offered. She was in her corset and petticoats. “I’ll button you up.”

  “Thank you.” Susannah turned around waiting while Lucy fastened her buttons.

  “What are you going to do about your hair?” Lucy asked. Susannah looked in the mirror.

  “What’s wrong with this?” she asked. Susannah had always worn it in a high bun. Her hair was wavy, a soft brunette.

  “It’s very prim,” Lucy said, frowning thoughtfully. “Come here.” She quickly unpinned Susannah’s bun reshaping it into a low chignon. “The fine ladies are doing their hair this way.”

  Once Lucy was finished, Susannah saw herself in the mirror. The low bun gave her an elegant look. She glanced down at her simple cream-colored muslin. Purple flowers were printed on it.

  “Do I look like a simple country girl?” she asked. Her stomach was doing a bit of a turn. She couldn’t tell if she was more nervous or excited.

  “Not at all,” Lucy said, coming to stand beside her. Lucy’s dress was a pale-blue muslin. She looked very fashionable, especially with the black ribbon that she’d attached. “For the next one, perhaps we can attach a bit of ribbon. It’s all about changing little details so an old dress can look like something new. In the spring we can try remaking the sleeves.”

  Susannah nodded. That seemed simple enough. She was good with a needle and thread after all. Perhaps, a little embroidery would help, too.

  “Let’s get going,” Lucy said, smiling. She was just finishing her hair. She had taken the iron out of the fire and made a few ringlets to frame her face.

  Susannah beamed. Her stomach felt queasy with anticipation. She knew what to expect—Lucy had described every single ball she’d ever been to. Susannah had always hoped that her father would remove his restrictions on her. She wished that he had. To be nineteen years old and nervous about an assembly ball was overwhelming. On the other hand, how lovely it was to feel so alive.

  Donning their cloaks, they stepped out and into the crisp winter evening, their breath was fog on the air. They linked arms walking briskly in the direction of the ball.

  Susannah looked up at the stars overhead. They looked so far away, glittering in the night sky. A few clouds moved across the moon. They both wore dancing shoes which crunched in the snow. Susannah’s were brand new and they pinched a little. Not to mention the cold seeped through them. In her excitement, she found that she could ignore it.

  * * *

  Gerard had sent Adam a note. It had been brief, containing no answers. It had merely given a time and directed him to meet him at the club. Adam had nothing to do but respond that he would be there.

  Adam arrived at the club before Gerard, so he found a table in a back corner where they would be alone. There was a potted fern positioned so that the table was half-hidden and whomever sat there had a bit of privacy.

  He glanced around, a deep feeling of disappointment filling him when his eye caught Mr. Sullyard. Adam’s longtime rival was seated at a table with several other businessmen. Mr. Sullyard raised his glass to Adam. He nodded, then looked away. He sipped his own drink, hoping that Mr. Sullyard wouldn’t come over. He still did not have a successful invention. With the way that Mr. Sullyard was able to see through him, Adam was at a distinct disadvantage.

  “Lord Malmore,” Mr. Sullyard said. Adam looked up to find him, walking over. “May I?” He gestured toward the empty seat across from Adam.

  Adam sighed, smiling despite his repugnance. “Of course,” he said. He watched as Mr. Sullyard sat, leaning back, then casting his gaze around the club. Adam waited impatiently. He wanted Mr. Sullyard to be gone. Unfortunately, the man seemed at his leisure. He was dressed in an acid-green frock coat which was over a maroon waistcoat.

  He should fire his valet for letting him out in that.

  The two rivals stared at one another for a long moment, neither one of them saying anything. Adam certainly had nothing that he wanted to say to Mr. Sullyard. He wondered what it was that Sullyard had to say to him.

  “I have been hearing whispers that you have a new invention,” Mr. Sullyard said at last. He was squinting at Adam, watching his every move.

  Adam grunted. �
�What’s it to you, Mr. Sullyard?” He wondered who had said something. The only members of the ton with whom he’d recently had any contact were his parents and Gerard. He had the lurking suspicion that it might be Gerard since his parents were so far removed out in the countryside.

  Mr. Sullyard clasped his hands on the table, leaning forward. “I was wondering if you had any thoughts of making your plans public.” When he spoke, his breath wafted across the space between them. It was sour, smelling strongly of alcohol and tobacco.

  “Not at the moment, no.” Adam pretended his face was a mask, immoveable and impenetrable. He didn’t want Mr. Sullyard to discern the truth. That Adam had been too focused on pursuing the affections of his house maid to focus properly on his invention.