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

by Olivia Bennet

  Susannah smiled to herself as she walked through the door. They were about to be very surprised when they found out that he’d been doing precisely what he’d said. She was proud of him. She was allowed to be, too. They were, in a sense, engaged.

  She felt like it was almost too good to be true. Susannah Humphries—a lowly housemaid—was going to be Lord Malmore’s wife. She felt both blissfully happy and terrified at the same time.

  Chapter 22

  Adam sat up in his chair. His mother was pouring out cups of tea for them. She hadn’t said anything. Her face was studiously calm, as though she had sensed that he had something of import to tell them. She was always a serene presence, where his father was a forceful one. They balanced each other out.

  Already, his father had assumed that he had been trying to put them off. At the beginning, he had been. Now, though, everything was going really well. Adam’s lies had become the truth, as he had hoped they would.

  “That’s just it. I have an invention,” Adam told his parents. “My new device is already being implemented at my facility. I dropped it off a few days ago. By the end of the week, I should know more, but Mr. Hunt and Mr. Blanville report that it’s already increased production by fifty percent.”

  He’d received a message, written in Mr. Hunt’s neat copperplate the day before, with the good news. The letter had included all of the numbers since the device had gone into use; one of their workers used it throughout the day.

  “Oh. Excellent,” his father said, blinking in surprise. This was not at all what he had been expecting, and it showed. “You’ll be able to attend the ball your mother’s throwing then.”

  “I won’t, actually,” Adam said, accepting the cup of tea that his mother handed to him. “Thank you, Mother. Nor will I be available for any other functions.”

  His parents shared a look. They slowly turned to study him, their eyes wide in confusion. He knew that they weren’t used to this—to him, being his true self. He had never felt better in his life.

  “Whatever do you mean?” his mother asked. She looked over at his father. “Didn’t you tell him our purpose in coming?”

  “I thought I made it clear in my last letter,” his father said, raising an eyebrow. “That you were to find a wife this Season. This cannot be put off.”

  “I won’t be looking for a wife—not among the ton, at least,” he said. He was going to tell them about Susannah slowly. He had meant what he had said—when they finally met her, they would be ready to welcome her to the family, and not a moment sooner. He wanted them to be happy about meeting her. “I want nothing to do with them. I’m glad to perform all necessary duties as a Peer of the Realm, however—I will not be wasting any more time among the ton with their gossip and balls and such.”

  “Who do you think you are?” his father asked, a warning in his tone. Adam had known that this was the tricky part. “The next Marchioness of Wiltshire must be a lady!”

  “I’m trying to remain true to myself, Father,” he explained. He knew, in his gut that Susannah would be able to run a household. She was smart and adapted easily despite her current nerves around his parents. She would perform her duties to the utmost of her abilities. He realized, though, that he’d never spoken to her about this. An oversight which he would rectify as soon as he was able.

  “Tom wouldn’t have—" his father began, angrily. Adam had expected this. His father had a tendency to say this, whether he meant it as a slight or not. It hurt Adam, more than he could say.

  “You’re right. Tom wouldn’t have. I’m not my brother. I’m sorry for it, but I have to remain true to myself and my values. I’ve been absolutely miserable. Ever since Tom’s death, I’ve been trying to fill his shoes—to be him, if possible. It’s always made me so unhappy. I’m truly sorry that you’ve lost him, but I cannot be him and happy at the same time.”

  He was relieved that his father had sat there and listened. It was the most honest thing that he had ever told his father, and he meant it with all his heart. His father waited a moment before speaking.

  “Gerard has said that you’ve been acting odd of late,” his father said, confirming what Adam had always wondered. Gerard had been keeping them apprised of his doings there in London.

  “What has he told you?” he asked, curious to know. After all, Gerard hadn’t known all that was going on with him until the other day. He couldn’t have told them much.

  “Ever since Lady Cecily ended the engagement, that you haven’t been yourself,” his mother said. “We’re all very concerned for you, dear. Your father and I had thought the match to be advantageous on both sides. We didn’t quite understand what could have happened.”

  “Yes. I know that you’re concerned,” he said, making every attempt to soften what he was saying. “Lady Cecily and I…we both wanted different things. The end of that engagement showed me something, you see. It showed me that I was trying to be someone that I’m not.” He looked back and forth between them, hoping that they could find it within themselves to hear him and understand.

  Both of his parents were silent. His mother tilted her head to the side. Her face was open, her brows knitting together in concern. His father, however, was turning a shocking shade of bright crimson.

  “You are to be the next Marquess of Wiltshire—" his father began, his voice raising as he spoke.

  “Yes. And if I am, then I’m doing it on my own terms,” Adam replied, as gently as possible. He didn’t want to ruin his relationship with his father. He merely wanted to stand up for himself. The Marquess was used to getting his way.

  “How dare you speak to me thus,” his father growled. “You will do as I say.”

  “Or what? You’ll disinherit me? Go ahead. Believe it or not, I don’t want to fight with you, Father. I love you, very much. I just want to live my life according to my own values.”

  His father was enraged—a particular vein was standing out in his forehead. Adam stared back him. He was tired of others dictating his life. The truth was, Adam had enough money from his tobacco company to be comfortable for the rest of his life. He could be stripped of his now and future titles and still be both content and comfortable.

  “You will do as I say,” his father growled. “You are to find a lady to marry within the next few months. That’s final.”

  “No, I will not.” Adam folded his hands on his lap. He looked to his mother, who was sitting and studying him, her head tilted to the side curiously. “I mean to be happy. I will live under my own terms.”

  His father stood up. “I have never been treated this way in my life! I will wait until you start singing a different tune to speak to you!”

  “Very well.” Adam remained seated. If that was how his father wanted to do things, then they would. But Adam meant to stand his ground. Because if he was able to stand up to his father on this, then he would be able to convince him to let him marry Susannah in peace.

  His father spluttered, then stormed out. Adam looked at his mother, who sighed and stood up. She looked at her son sadly.

  “Next time, would you please warn me before you decide to be contrary?” she asked him.

  “Of course. I didn’t have time,” he explained. “I only received his letter that you were coming this morning.”

  She smiled. “I’ll attempt to smooth this over. If you would please come to tea tomorrow, the two of you can make amends and start over on the right foot.”

  “Certainly. Do you think you can—”

  “I can try,” she said, with a shrug. “You are our only living son.” She smiled at him. “We do want for you to be happy.” He stood up, and she kissed the air beside both of his cheeks. Her powdery perfume was heavy on the air.

  “It’s good to see you,” he told her, trying to convey how happy he was to have her as an ally. She had done this before, back when he wanted to remain at Oxford. Her mind was as sharp as a barrister’s. She was good at convincing the Marquess to consider what his son wanted.

&nbs
p; “You, as well.” She beamed at him, her fingers light against his cheek. Her eyes studied him. “You look…content.”

  Adam grinned. “I am.” He wanted nothing more than to tell her, but he would wait to tell both of his parents about Susannah. He wanted to ensure that she was welcomed into the family. He would bide his time, so that news of her was treated with joy, as it should be.

  “I’ll walk you out.” He offered his mother his arm. She slipped her hand into the crook of it, and he accompanied her to the carriage, which sat out in front of the house. His father was seated in their barouche-landau. He didn’t even look at Adam as he helped his mother up and into the carriage.

  “Goodbye, my son,” his mother called out. Adam stood back and waved to her. She waved to him as the carriage pulled away from the curb.

  His stomach rumbled. He pulled out his pocket watch, finding that it was nearly time for his dinner. He hoped that the staff hadn’t cooked a feast for his parents. Adam entered his house, then walked briskly downstairs, to deliver the news to Mrs. Larson himself.

  * * *

  The servants were all eating their dinner. As usual, the whole household knew that something had gone on that day. It was as though the house itself had walls with eyes and ears. Nothing happened that everyone didn’t find out about. Except they didn’t know all of it.

  “I saw Lord Wiltshire leave in a rage,” Mr. Fort was saying. He was treating the news as he always did—with interested glee.

  “They were only here for a quarter of an hour,” William added. “Lord Malmore told the Marquess something that angered him.”

  “They so rarely leave the country,” Simone said. “I wonder what could have incited them to come all this way.”

  Susannah remained silent, keeping her eyes on her simple supper of roast chicken, green beans, and potatoes. Mrs. Larson had prepared a feast for Adam’s parents. Adam himself had taken his plate up to the parlor. All that was left of the feast was being served to the servants so it wasn’t wasted.

  Her stomach twisted at the rich, buttery food. The butterflies and their prolonged presence had left Susannah feeling ill. She didn’t know if Lord Wiltshire’s swift departure was because he had gotten news of his daughter-in-law-to-be, and her status as a lowly housemaid, or if it was something else. She was dying to know.

  When she glanced over at Lucy, her friend’s jaw was tensed, as though she were gritting her teeth. Susannah began to eat faster. The sooner she was done, the sooner she could go to Adam, and find out what had transpired.

  As soon as she was finished, she stood up. The legs of her chair scraped loudly against the floor. Everyone looked at her. She blinked at them all.

  “Where are you off to in a hurry?” Mr. Fort asked.

  “You all can take your time,” she pointed out tiredly. “I still have a whole laboratory left to clean.” No one said anything, so she carried her empty plate into the scullery, leaving it in the wash basin. She could hear them all talking in low voices. Her face burned.

  Likely gossiping about me and Adam and what we do in the lab.

  Her pulse raced as she went to the closet, grabbing a bucket and cleaning supplies. She stopped out back at the water pump. The air outside was bitter cold, causing her breath to form clouds in front of her face. She went quickly, since she didn’t have her cloak. The icy wind bit through her thin dress, causing her fingers to stiffen as she gripped the cold metal of the pump.

  Shivering, she ran back to the door to the house. She breathed a sigh of relief when she entered, closing the door after her. Susannah relaxed as she walked up the stairs to the lab. Soon, she would know all. He would tell her everything, then hold her in his arms. He would promise her that everything was going to be all right.

  * * *

  After he’d finished his dinner, he sat in the lab, waiting for Susannah. She wasn’t long and she entered suddenly. She smelled like the night air and her cheeks were bright red. She beamed, her eyes lighting up when she saw him. She was carrying a bucket of water and some clean rags.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” he murmured. He stood, walking over to her. She set down the bucket and the rags and closed the door. He took her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers. He was smiling so broadly that his cheeks hurt. He marveled at how things between them had progressed. This felt completely natural—as if their quiet, insular world in the very heart of London was all that was right and good.

  “How did it go?” she asked him. She began to pull away from him.

  “About as well as could be expected.” He pulled her back into his arms. She relaxed into him. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the closeness—the soft curves of her body against his. “I imagine when I tell them that I’m going to marry you, it’ll go a little better than today did.”

  “Really?” she asked. He could hear the nervous tone in her voice.

  “I am going to marry you,” he murmured, kissing her. He smoothed a hand over her hair. He marveled at how beautiful it was—soft, brown. He knew that when it was loose, it had a little bit of a wave. He wanted nothing more than to weave his fingers into it. “I’m going to marry you. And then, we’ll live here. You can have all of the books that you want, and if you want, we can have children.”

  She tilted her head to the side, thoughtfully. She laughed, softly. He wondered if she’d ever thought about having them. They’d never spoken of their future plans with such certainty before.

  “I want them,” she said, smiling.

  Children.

  He considered it. The house brimming with them. Her eyes were all lit up. He wanted children with her. He could never have married for anything less than love. How he’d ever considered it before amazed him.

  “You do?” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she murmured. It was all so perfect. They were meant for each other. Her eyes became distant, as she became lost in her thoughts. He wanted to know what she was thinking of—what made her eyes sparkle and her lips curve upward in such a grin.

  “What?” he asked. “Tell me. I want to know everything that you’re thinking.”

  “I never wanted to marry,” she admitted. “Not until I met you.”

  “Oh?” A smile played at the corners of his lips.

  “I could never marry for anything less than love,” she said. That she was thinking the same thing that he was, only confirmed how perfect they were for each other.

  “You love me,” he said, beaming. He held her tightly. She leaned her head against his shoulder. He wished that they could be like this, always.

  “Yes.”

  Adam rested his cheek against the top of her head. He was silent, just holding her. He wanted more, of course. But he knew that he was going to have to wait, until they were married.

  I could stay like this, always.

  Chapter 23

  Standing there with him, Susannah’s butterflies had finally calmed down. Being with him, alone, was like a balm to her. She wasn’t nervous, so long as she focused on him. He made her so happy.

  Susannah turned, still wrapped in his arms, so that she could see his face. He was looking at her, but it was with all of the warmth of someone in love. His eyes were soft. She wondered what he could be thinking.

  “What is it?” she asked, curious to know what went on in his mind. She felt emboldened, knowing that in any other situation her asking would have been considered brazen.

  “I’m just thinking about having you all to myself,” he said, placing his finger on her bottom lip. Warmth seeped into her tummy. It was almost akin to the butterflies, but not out of fear or anxiety. It was desire, pleasure.

  “Is that so?” She could feel her cheeks warm as she blushed. She had never thought that touch could be pleasurable—

  It could be.

  It was against everything that her father had always preached. Her own parents rarely even touched. When they did, it was chaste, brief. Susannah knew that they liked each other. But their relationship lacked pa
ssion.

  “Yes. You have no idea how I’ve longed to have you,” Adam told her.

  “But…” she sighed, biting her lip, “won’t it be painful? At least for me.” She felt nervous, considering it.

  “Oh, darling,” he said, hand smoothing against her cheek. She leaned into his touch, savoring it for the coming days. “I will make sure that you enjoy it. I do have some experience in that area.”

  “Have you?” She was curious to know more. They had never spoken of this before. It had merely been implied. But now, with the very real chance that they were actually going to be together, Susannah found that she wanted to know—and that he wanted to tell her.

  “Yes. I—it wasn’t for love,” he explained, his fingers weaving through hers. “It was…for mutual enjoyment. She was far more experienced than I. She showed me how to make it pleasurable for women.”