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 24

by Olivia Bennet


  The three of them got to work, sorting out the wreckage of his laboratory. Adam wanted to have it back in working order as soon as possible. He wanted to salvage as much as he could, but the blast and then the fire had destroyed much of it.

  * * *

  It was late in the day when they finally finished sorting through the ruined laboratory. Susannah’s hands were black with soot. Her eyes and throat still smarted from the smoke from the night before.

  Between the three of them, they had gotten the damaged furniture out for the dustman to haul away. What was left of Adam’s notebooks had been placed into several boxes, and then placed in the study, where he could peruse them at length.

  “Thank you, both of you,” Adam said, as they looked at what remained. Susannah knew that he was devastated by what had happened. She only wished that she could do more.

  “Of course, My Lord,” Mr. Howard replied. “I will contact several workmen in the morning. I’ll get some quotes and have them brought to you.”

  “Very good, Mr. Howard,” Adam replied.

  “We’ll have your lab up and in shipshape in no time, My Lord.” Mr. Howard bowed, and then left.

  “Can I interest you in supper?” he asked her.

  “With you? In the dining room?” She grinned at the thought. “A housemaid, eating in the formal dining room! What a scandal.”

  “It’s where we will always dine.” He offered her his arm, and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. He placed his free hand on top of hers. “Unless, of course, you choose to have breakfast served to you in bed. That, too, is acceptable.”

  “No need,” she said. “I would love to eat with you.”

  “Come, I will escort you upstairs,” he said gallantly. “My Lady.” He winked. It was the first time that anyone had ever referred to Susannah in that way. She could feel her cheeks flush red.

  She beamed at him. “Thank you, My Lord.”

  As they walked, they ran into Mrs. Braithwaite. She curtsied to Adam. “My Lord,” she said. “Shall I have your supper sent up?”

  “Yes please,” Adam said. “Susannah will be dining with me this evening. If you could have enough sent up for two, I would be most obliged.”

  “Of course.” Mrs. Braithwaite beamed at them both.

  They both stopped to wash their soot-smudged hands out back by the water pump. Then Susannah allowed Adam to lead her into the dining room. He pulled out a chair for her, then sat down across from her at the table. Susannah unfolded the crisp, white napkin, the soot on her dress smudging it.

  “Oh dear,” she murmured.

  “Not to worry,” he said, showing her his. It too, was lightly smudged.

  He reached across, holding his hand out to her. She placed hers in it, feeling the warmth of his skin. She could sit there like this, always, with him smiling at her from across the table.

  “I could get used to this,” she said, squeezing his hand. Her skin tingled in pleasant anticipation.

  “You’ll have to,” he replied. “I won’t eat here without you.” He gasped. “I was going to go and speak with your father today. With all of the—” He trailed off, waving his other hand in the air.

  “You were?” she asked. He hadn’t mentioned it.

  “Yes. I was giving him some time to allow his anger to cool, then speak to him, man to man. I wanted to try to convince him to approve of our union. So that you could have your parents present at our wedding.”

  She was touched that Adam had wanted to go and speak to her father. It made her love him even more. It was very important to her that her parents would be there when she got married. But it seemed that it was not to be. She was going to have to let them go.

  “I imagine he’s long gone by now,” she said, sadly. “I’ve never seen him so angry before.” It hurt that her parents wouldn’t be at the wedding, but Susannah couldn’t return to Lidcote like her father wanted. She couldn’t imagine living her life without Adam or being married to anyone else. She had made up her mind. She would remain resolute. She didn’t think that her father could legally force her to return. At least, she hoped that was the case.

  * * *

  Adam sat across from Susannah as the remaining footman brought in their supper. Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. He could feel himself settling in to how his life would be.

  As usual, Mrs. Larson had outdone herself. They ate fish in a light herb sauce, roasted potatoes, and carrots with butter and rosemary.

  “I’ve never eaten like this in my life,” Susannah said, raising her wineglass to her lips.

  “Wait until you taste Mrs. Larson’s chocolate cake,” he said. “She makes it with a ganache that is to die for.”

  As he spoke, he ran the toe of his booted foot up against her calf. She smiled, her cheeks going pink. Her eyes cut over to the footman, who was turning away, not suspecting a thing that was going on beneath the table.

  When she glanced back at him, Adam beamed at her. She smiled. He loved how she was so ready to be his. He held out his hand, and she placed hers in it. He ran his thumb over the pulse at her wrist.

  Adam was content, and he could forget, for a moment, that his lab had been utterly destroyed and the only copy of his device and notes stolen.

  This is what my life will be like.

  “So,” he said, wanting to talk about the future. “When shall we marry?” He couldn’t wait to finally have her. He wouldn’t dare make any further moves before he had wed her, out of respect and love for her. He wanted them to be equals. It was the only way forward.

  “I imagine as soon as this is all cleared up,” Susannah said. “I have tea with your mother this week. With her help, I’m sure I can begin to sort wedding plans out.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” He didn’t want to wait very long—the sooner the better. He ached for her, every moment of every day. “If you want to start next week with the planning, I will be happy to give you the funds to do so.”

  “We don’t need a large wedding,” she told him. “Just our close friends and family.”

  “That sounds perfect,” he agreed. “My mother will have her seamstress take your measurements while you’re there. Please choose whatever pleases you.”

  “I imagine that I won’t need much.”

  “I’m sure my mother will help you out,” he said. “But there’s enough money that you can have everything that you need or want.”

  She looked down, her eyelashes brushing against the tops of her cheeks. “I’ve never had money for expensive things.”

  “Susannah,” he said, waiting for her to look at him. “I’m a very wealthy man. I can afford to have you in silks every day, if you so choose.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “Get what you want,” he told her. “It’s part of being married to me. I want you to feel comfortable.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What’s mine is now yours,” he said. “I trust you.”

  He knew that his mother meant to have a wardrobe made for Susannah. It was a necessary expense. After all, she couldn’t wear her maid’s uniform after they got married.

  “While we’re at it,” he said, looking around the dining room. The gold and burgundy silk wallpaper was from his great-uncle’s time. Adam had never felt the urge to do anything about it. It was extremely masculine—not the type of wallpaper for a house with a lady in it. “You can also do some redecorating, if you wish.”

  “No,” she murmured. “I like the house just as it is.”

  “It could use a bit of a feminine touch.” He smiled at her. “It’s your home. Every newly-married lady has the house fitted up according to her tastes.”

  “I’ll consider it,” she replied.

  He smiled at her. He wanted her to learn her own mind and tastes. He knew that, until now, she hadn’t gotten a chance to exercise them. He wanted her to figure it out for herself. He could tell that she was nervous.

  “I’ll support you, whatever you decide,” h
e assured her. “No ducks, however.” He thought of the ducks sitting up in the attic. They could stay there for all of time.

  She laughed, throwing her head back. “No ducks,” she agreed.

  * * *

  The Marchioness of Wiltshire had sent Susannah a very beautiful invitation to join her for tea. It had been on thick, creamy stationery. Her lettering was a work of art. Even the wax seal had a small spring of purple sage pressed into the white wax.

  Adam had arranged for Susannah to take the shiny black carriage. She had never ridden in one alone before—she had never ridden in one so fine before, either. She sat on the luxuriously soft-blue velvet, peering out of the window.

  London passed her by. She remembered the first time that she had seen it, and how overwhelmed she had been.

  To think that I got lost!

  Now, she knew her way around. She belonged there in the city, as she had always hoped.

  Out on the street, there was a group of fine ladies entering one of the townhouses. They were dressed in bright colors, all of them bundled up in cloaks against the cold. Susannah saw them differently now. She was to be someone who dressed like they did. But she would never be one of them.

  Mr. Banks delivered her in front of Lord and Lady Wiltshire’s house. He came around, offering her his hand.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “Of course,” he said. “You’ll have to start letting me open the door for you. It’s how it’s done.”

  “Very well.” Susannah knew that she had a lot to learn.

  She breathed out as she took in Lord and Lady Wiltshire’s townhome. It was even larger than Adam’s. It was painted all white, and it reminded her of a cake with all its elaborate tiers. When she arrived at the door, the butler greeted her then showed her into the parlor.

  Susannah wore her very best dress, the same one that she’d worn to the assembly ball. She was nervous—she had never attended a fancy tea with a lady before. She knew that the Marchioness was kind. Regardless, she worried, and felt shabby.

  “Welcome, Susannah,” she said. “Have a seat.” She gestured to a velvet settee.

  “Thank you for having me,” Susannah murmured as she sank into the soft pillows.

  “Yes, well, we have much to discuss.”

  “I have so much to learn.” She was a little overwhelmed, mostly because she had no idea what to expect. Her mind swam with all the little details that she did know. She was to know how to decorate a house and to dress herself in silk.

  “Yes, you do. You’ll be able to figure it out in no time,” the Marchioness assured her. “Not to worry—I’ve had the seamstress come to measure you. We’ll have the muslin that you’re wearing altered a bit, and then we’ll have several new ones made up for everyday wear. Then, we’ll discuss your wedding gown.”

  “Oh.” Susannah’s head was spinning. The expense alone was going to be large.

  “My son can afford it, dear,” Lady Wiltshire assured her. “Money, for my son, has never been an issue. Adam can afford to clothe you as a proper lady ought to be attired.” She tilted her head to the side. “I imagine this is all very overwhelming for you.”

  “Thank you, My Lady. It is.”

  “You may call me ‘Mother,’” she told her, “if you’d like. You will be my only daughter-in-law, and I want for us to be close.”

  “I want that, too.” She knew that her face fell. Lady Wiltshire noticed.

  “What is the matter, dear?”

  “My own mother won’t be attending the wedding,” Susannah said. “I wish that she could.”

  “Lord Wiltshire and I tried finding out where your father was staying. Unfortunately, we couldn’t locate him.”

  “Thank you for trying,” Susannah said, touched that they would go to the trouble.

  “I know how much it would mean to you,” she went on, “to have them there.”

  Susannah nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. Lady Wiltshire handed her a crisp, white handkerchief. Susannah accepted it gratefully, dabbing at her eyes.

  “There, there,” Lady Wiltshire said. “Best to let all of the tears out.”

  “I love them, but I’ve hurt them.”

  “Perhaps, after the wedding, you and Adam could go up to Lidcote,” Lady Wiltshire suggested. “You could go and try to mend things with your parents.”

  Susannah nodded. It was a good idea.

  “For the wedding, perhaps, we can do away with sides in the church,” Lady Wiltshire suggested. She held out her hand, and Susannah took it in her own.

  “Thank you.” Susannah was so glad that Adam’s family was so supportive.

  “You’re part of our family, now,” Lady Wiltshire said. “We’ll do whatever we can for you.”

  Chapter 33

  No one heard from Mr. Fort or his brother for several days. Sometimes, William went with them. Other times, he remained to help out around the house. In the interim, Adam dressed himself and realized just how much Mr. Fort did for him. He had never thought very much of it. He had never dressed himself before.

  There was a knock on his bed chamber door. Adam turned. “Yes?”

  Mr. Howard peered inside. Adam could see that he was in a state of agitation.

  “What’s happened?” he asked, curious to know. Mr. Howard was rarely ruffled by anything.

  “Mr. Fort and his brother are here to see you, sir,” Mr. Howard told him. “I’ve told them to wait for you down in the parlor.” He wrinkled his nose. “The other Mr. Fort is a tad on the unsavory side, My Lord. I have a good mind to check his pockets before he leaves.”

  “He wouldn’t dare,” Adam replied. “I don’t think our Mr. Fort would let him.”

  “Hmmm,” Mr. Howard grumbled.

  “I’ll be down forthwith,” Adam said. Turning back to his looking glass, he adjusted his cravat one last time. He had nicked himself shaving. He was looking forward to having his valet back.

  He made his way down to the parlor where he found Mr. Fort and another man who looked very similar to him. Both were dressed in simple clothing, what most men wore out by the docks. He had no doubt that it made them blend in where they had been.

  “My Lord!” Mr. Fort said, bowing. “This is my brother, Mr. Benjamin Fort.” The other Mr. Fort bobbed a stiff and very brief bow. It was clear that he wasn’t much used to bowing to anyone.

  Adam held out his hand. “Thank you for assisting me in finding the blackguard who did this.”

  “My pleasure, My Lord,” the other Mr. Fort said, shaking Adam’s hand. He was less urbane than his brother—a little rougher around the edges.

  “Have a seat,” Adam said, gesturing for them both to sit on the armchairs, while Adam settled himself down onto the settee. “Tell me—what have you found out?” He was eager for news, after there had been none for three whole days. Adam had expected to have no news at all until at least the end of the week.

  “We searched everywhere, for the past few nights,” Mr. Fort explained. “We pretended that we were looking to hire a mercenary of our own. It wasn’t until we went to the King and Castle, that someone pointed us in the right direction.”

  “Did you see him?” Adam asked. “The man with the scar?”

  “We have,” Mr. Fort said, excitedly. “We also have his name.”

  “Good work!” Adam was very impressed.

  “Evidently, he does his work out of the King and Castle,” Mr. Fort went on. “He has a table in the back corner, where he sits every night between ten-of-the-clock and midnight, and anyone can come and hire him. He remains there all night.”

  “What is his name?” Adam asked.

  “Horace Micklewhite,” Mr. Benjamin Fort said. “He’s a well-known thief. A professional procurer of things which are difficult and illegal to obtain.”

  Adam nodded. He had expected as much. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Getting the constables involved seemed like a good way to get Micklewhite to clam up.

  “Now,” Adam mused. “What
to do about it?” They needed to connect this man with whomever had hired him. And they needed more than just Micklewhite’s word. Adam wanted to go himself, but he didn’t want to question the man in his own environment. Who knew what protection he ensured for himself?

  “I want to talk to him myself,” he told them, and both Mr. Forts nodded.

  “Well,” Mr. Fort’s brother said. “We can return tonight, if we can borrow a few of the footmen. The lot of us can follow him to see where he goes.”

 

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