An Earl To Remember

by Jasmine Ashford

  “That is – unusual for a lady,” Liam admitted. “I would delight in a game.” He gave her that same winning smile, and Ada felt her heart turn over.

  “We should rejoin the coach party,” she said as they walked into the woods. “They are probably enjoying luncheon by now, and will not stop much longer than an hour.”

  “We should,” he agreed, though he made no attempt to move. He stood facing her in the clearing, and Ada felt a strange connection to him as he stared into her eyes.

  Ada felt a strange desire she had never felt before. To walk forward and take that tall, lean body in her arms. The desire was shocking, and yet also overwhelmed her. The rain was dripping off the trees behind her, and somewhere close a carriage rolled along the road, wheels hissing in the wet. She heard none of it.

  He leaned forward, and placed his hands on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and reached up to his shoulders. Her hands felt right there. She opened her eyes again and looked into his once more.

  “Ada... I...” he stammered. All around them, the forest was quiet.

  He leaned forward and so did she. His breath brushed against her lips. Ada's whole body wanted, then, to lean in and return the touch, to make it a kiss.

  They kissed.

  His lips grazed against hers, and then moved more tenderly. They tasted like honey and musk and the dark secret scent of woodlands.

  He drew back just as suddenly, gasping hard.

  “My lady... I...” He could not speak, his voice raw. His eyes were haunted. He looked at her as if she might disappear, or turn into an avenging angel. “Apologies...” he breathed.

  “Apologies!” Ada found her voice. “No apologies required...”

  They faced each other in the clearing, and Ada could see that the aching desire she felt was reflected in his own expression.He, like she, clearly wished for another kiss.

  “Liam!”

  Toby's voice echoed up from the inn.

  “Liam? Lady Ada? Luncheon has arrived!”

  Liam turned, eyes haunted.

  “I must go. I...” He reached out to take her hands, and she took his in hers.

  “I will see you soon,” Ada promised. She squeezed his hands.

  “Will you walk with me?” Liam asked. “I will not... dishonor you in their eyes,” he added. “We will play at being indifferent acquaintances.”

  “Dishonor me?” Ada laughed. Her laugh soared like a lark, ringing brightly in the damp space of the clearing. “Against propriety it may be, but I do not consider myself dishonored.”

  He grinned at her, and she grinned back. Her whole body was on fire, her heart soaring.

  “We shall remain co-conspirators,” Liam said softly and Ada nodded.

  They walked back to the inn together, hands at their sides.

  Luncheon was short but enjoyable and, if anyone thought anything of Ada and Liam being alone in the woods together, no one said it.

  An hour later, they were on their way, Ada leaning back in the carriage, eyes closed. She could still feel his lips on hers. She could still hear his voice, saying her name, and so many lovely words.

  I have never felt like this before.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A CHALLENGE

  A CHALLENGE

  In Suttner House, the elaborate townhouse of the Dukes of Norwich, Oscar Ridlington sat brooding. He had arrived in town just the day before, and was recovering from the journey at home before venturing forth onto the town. He could not avoid all acquaintance, and Godfrey, Lord Rodway, was a particularly persistent man. He was here now taking a drink after the evening meal.

  The upstairs drawing room was bathed in blueish light as the sun set beyond the windows and Oscar sat in a high-backed chair, a chess-board laid out in front of him.

  “She slighted me,” he said to himself.

  “Sorry, Oscar?” His companion, Lord Rodway, looked up at him mildly, brows creased. A young man with golden hair and a well-groomed moustache, he raised an eyebrow at Oscar.

  “Nothing,” he said moodily. “I was just considering my next move.” He indicated the board, where they played at chess.

  “Take your time,” the man commented, and Oscar returned his attention to the game, moving a piece.

  “You seem to be having trouble with your queen?” the man commented silkily, indicating the piece as he made an advance over the black squares. “And, I think, the fairer sex?”

  “What?” Oscar scowled.

  “Nothing, your grace,” the man commented smoothly. “Only that we all saw Lady Ada take off from your party, lost in the hills.”

  “Her horse bolted,” Oscar said stubbornly.

  “You may say so.” Lord Rodway smiled. “It looked to me as though she ran from you.”

  “You insult me, sir,” Oscar said, eyes narrowing.

  “No, no...” The man waved a hand. “Take no offense. It is no shame to scare away ladies. I am sure she is unduly skittish, like the horse she rode.”

  Oscar felt his stomach churn with the insult. So, all the nobility were laughing at him! It had been a mistake to take the whole of his party with him, that day he rode with Ada. Now they had all seen her galloping off, and he had had to explain to them her absence at the dinner. And, all of them knew he was courting her! It was embarrassing.

  “Checkmate,” he said crossly, moving a piece to block Lord Rodway's advance. The man raised his eyebrows, and Oscar felt a stab of satisfaction.

  Outside the window, a thrush called, heralding the dusk. The days were growing longer with the approach of summer, and Oscar was looking forward to the week's engagements. These whispers and gossip were spoiling it for him. He hardly felt he could walk out of his house without some upstart lord whispering about the Duke of Norwich, whom women run away from.

  “Your playing has come on exceedingly well, Oscar,” Lord Rodway said, impressed.

  “I am surprised,” Oscar said evenly, “as I hardly ever play.”

  “Too busy chasing ladies?” the man asked, as Oscar made another move that captured his king, winning the game.

  Despite the thrill of winning, the barb slid into Oscar, wounding him and robbing him of any pleasure in the win.

  “Ladies do not generally run,” he said hotly.

  “No,” his lordship said airily. “They don't. It makes her very unusual, do not you think?”

  Oscar was not sure whether he wanted to cry, shout or hit the man. He knew all three would be unseemly, and so he simply clenched a fist and sat in silence. A proud man, he had been raised to accept no insult. And this man had been delivering nothing else all evening.

  “I will retire now, I think,” Oscar said stiffly. “I have business tomorrow. And it is best to leave on a winning streak, what think you?”

  The barb was small, but he was glad to see the man's eyes narrow and then widen, his composure marginally ruffled. “I would not know, my lord,” he was forced to admit, “since I have lost all three of our matches.”

  Oscar smiled warmly, his first true smile of the evening. “Good evening, my lord.”

  “Good evening, your grace.”

  The men shook hands, and Lord Rodway left, footsteps echoing in the corridor beyond.

  Left to himself, Oscar let out a sigh, rubbing his hand wearily down his face.

  That woman had humiliated him! As it was, the duke's position as one of the leading nobles despite his young age brought much hostility. He was certain his circle of acquaintances hated him, most of them as shallow as Lord Rodway. He surrounded himself with the well-to-do, the social elite, and spent most of his time trading thinly-veiled insults for social platitudes. He was not happy in this world, but it was the only world he knew.

  And now he was humiliated.

  The feelings of attraction he had felt for Ada were slowly hardening into something more akin to hate. Ada was beautiful – exotic, shy and different to any of the cool, stylish and remote beauties he had met in his own circles. She was like a wild horse – u
ntamed and lovely – and he had relished the thought of winning her over. But she had bolted from him. And she had hurt his pride. He could not allow that to go unchecked. Sighing, Oscar reached for a glass of brandy.

  Even though he hated her, he would pursue her. And he would win. He would conquer this impulsive woman, and bring her to heel, if only to show his friends what he could do. He was Lord Oscar Ridlington, Duke of Norwich, and he would not be trifled with. He would be there wherever she went – at every ball or poetry recital. She would not be allowed to forget him, and he would bring her round to him, make her accept him as she had not before; tame her to his ways.

  She had hurt his pride. And he would not let the insult stand unanswered.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ARRIVAL IN LONDON

  ARRIVAL IN LONDON

  Ada sat in the carriage, half-asleep, as they rattled across the wintry landscape. The journey had so far taken three days, and, on the morning of the third day, they caught their first glimpse of London.

  “Alors!” Henriette commented, opening her eyes as it appeared on the horizon, as if on cue. “But there it is! We are early.”

  Everyone in the carriage laughed, and Margaret and Medora together knelt on the chair, staring out of the window and watching London approach with rapt attention.

  They drove in near-silence along Marylebone Road, onto Portland Place, and toward their townhouse, located by Cavendish Square. The drive itself was short, but felt long through the bustling, carriage-laden streets.

  “Here we are at last,” Roderick commented as they finally stopped.

  Ada climbed down out of the coach, shivering in the sudden cold of the London street. She walked across the cobbles, feeling unsteady. Three days of travel in the coach had made her accustomed to sitting.

  “Finally, here,” Henriette sighed, patting down her egg-yellow skirt with a frown as she alighted from the carriage.

  Ada stared up at the building opposite them. A tall, stone edifice with carved columns by the door, Holyrood Place – the Drosty townhouse – was cold and imposing from outside. Ada suppressed a shiver as she crossed the street to the doorstep.

  “Here we are!”

  “Hurrah!”

  The two little girls erupted out of the carriage. Margaret was dressed in lilac, Medora in yellow, and they were both balls of enthusiasm, racing for the door.

  “Now, ladies!” Nanny Mallington said, appearing from the second carriage, “leave your mama in peace! And do try to be decorous...” She took their hands and shepherded them across the road, keeping an eye out for the speeding stagecoaches.

  Roderick knocked.

  “My lord! I had not expected you so early!” their steward, Mr. Harwell, enthused. “Come inside! You'll catch your death of cold out here. Welcome!”

  “Thank you, Harwell,” Roderick said lightly, and stood back for the ladies. Ada stepped briskly inside, glad to be out of the chill.

  Inside, the house smelled freshly of lavender and the oil for polishing wood. Her steps echoed on the parquet, and she looked around, pleased to see it was exactly as she remembered it: Light, airy and modern. The ceiling soared high above her, the walls papered with yellow silk.

  I wonder what Lord Liam's townhouse is like? And if it is close enough for us to meet up in the evenings, for chess and pastimes?

  “It is strange to be back here, yes?”

  Ada blinked as Henriette interrupted her thoughts.

  “It is, yes.” Ada’s voice rang in the hollow space of the entrance hall. It was odd. The last time she had been here was for her debutante ball and she fully expected to live her life a spinster. Now, she was lost in the throes of a love she did not even know was returned – a love she did not really understand.

  Henriette, behind her, raised a shoulder elegantly. “In one sense, it feels like yesterday, and in another like ages, since we were all last here.”

  Ada swallowed and nodded, heading for the stairs. She could still not quite believe it. She wondered if Henriette knew any more of their traveling party than she did.

  “Are our fellow-travelers also arrived?” Ada asked. “We lost sight of them this morning.”

  “I don't know,” Henriette said, a frown creasing her brow. “I suspect they told Roderick their plans. They should turn up later today... and will certainly send a card.”

  “Oh,” Ada said in a small voice. “We will likely see them again, then?”

  “Certainly,” Henriette agreed, “though we shall be so busy in society! We shan't waste too much time with our fellow Northerners, no fear.” She smiled reassuringly.

  Ada felt her heart sink. It was not the reassurance she had wanted, and she hesitated, trying to think of a way to say that without appearing unduly interested.

  “Ooh!”

  Ada, her thoughts suddenly interrupted, turned to see Margaret and Medora standing in the entrance hall, looking up at the ceiling. She stifled a smile as she watched the two little girls make a game of sliding on the slippery parquet floor, staring up at the vaulted, molded ceiling high above.

  “Oh, girls.” Henriette grinned, wearily. “Go on with Nanny now!” She turned to Ada, who was making her way toward the stairs. “Yes, let's go up,” she agreed. “We shan't have much time before our first engagement of the season!”

  I wonder, if Lord Liam will attend any parties.

  She wondered, briefly, about what Lord Tobias had told her of his reclusive nature. She thought it must be the scar that led him to hide himself.

  “Why on earth would he hide for that?” Ada asked herself. “So many people have scars after all these wars. And besides, it looks nice...” She grinned deliciously.

  Ada, stop being silly.

  She entered her bedchamber – a cozy space, wallpapered in silk and decorated in pale green and white. Sitting at the small chestnut-wood table, she reached for a brush and started to comb her tangled hair.

  A servant arrived with her luggage as she sat there and a moment later, Henriette appeared.

  “Oh, mon cherie! Are we heading into town? I can hardly wait to visit the High Rooms for tea! Or maybe take chocolate in Casterly's?” She clasped her hands to her chest enthusiastically. “As soon as we are unpacked and dressed, we should begin!”

  Ada was not surprised to see her so quickly recovered from her fatigue after the journey. There was nothing like Henriette for parties – she adored them, and threw herself into the London season at the slightest provocation, taking advantage of every opportunity to socialize.

  “I would like that,” Ada said vaguely. She wished Toby and Liam would join them, and felt emboldened enough to ask. “Do we know if Lord Moore and his party are arrived? They might wish to join us.”

  “Oh, never mind them! We shall see them soon enough. Here, we should keep an eye out for more fashionable folk! I did hear Lord Oscar would be here, though he sent word before we left that he might be delayed...” She paused, frowning. “I doubt we shall be seeing him today.”

  Ada swallowed, wishing she did not feel sad. She had dearly hoped to join up with Liam again in London. And the mention of Lord Oscar was always vaguely disconcerting

  “I'm coming, Henriette,” Ada said sadly.

  “Oh, my dear!” Henriette said, a tapered hand covering her mouth. “You sound so sad! What is the matter? I know! It is Lord Oscar, is it not? Fear not – I am sure he will be here soon. He has to be... he is invited to Lady Winthrope's ball this evening, like us.”

  Ada felt her cheeks go hot. She said nothing. Henriette and her prying!

  She lifted the brush and resumed brushing her hair, hoping Henriette would simply go away and leave her alone.

  He might be there! It was the only thing that might make her feel better. Particularly if Lord Oscar were to attend. “Will... our Northern friends be there? Alicia and Leo and their party?”

  “Oh, yes! Certainly! Everyone who is anyone will be there!” Henriette enthused.

  “Well then,” Ada said
firmly, “we shall certainly be there, too!”

  Henriette giggled at the logic. “Wonderful!” she said, and then a frown creased her brow. “But, my dear... do you have something suitable to wear?”

  Ada blinked. “I have the gown I wore when we went to the ball at Wilding...”

  “Oh, non!” Henriette said spiritedly. “We have all seen that one before, twice! You shall need a new one! But how shall we do this at such short notice? Mon Dieu!” She wrung her hands, pensively. “I have the perfect idea!” she declared after a moment. “Alicia will have something we can alter, or know a seamstress who can run one up! You are the same in size as her, yes?”

  Ada nodded slowly. Lady Alicia was slightly shorter than Ada herself in truth, but they could make alterations.

  “Well, then! Come on!” Henriette admonished. “I shall call Priscilla and she can help you dress... We should be at Margate Square to see Alicia by tea!”

  Ada sighed. She had hoped for a moment's peace, some time to recover from the journey. But it seemed she would be granted no such thing. She allowed Priscilla to dress her and then headed downstairs to the carriage.

  “Oh, my dear! That gown?” Henriette rolled her eyes at Ada, but made no further objections. Almost before Ada knew it, they were rolling up at Margate Square.

  Henriette rang the bell at the light, airy town-house. Ada looked around admiring the small garden with its tall conifers. Then the door opened.

  “Henriette!”

  “Alicia!”

  The short, breathless lady cannoned into Henriette and embraced her fiercely, kissing her on both cheeks. Her flame-red hair was loose about her shoulders, coming loose from its elaborate up-do. She was wearing a dark pink gown and her grin was infectious as always.

  “Henriette! So glad you are safely...” She reached up and kissed Henriette's cheeks and then turned to Ada. Ada embraced by the smaller woman, who smelled of honey and roses. She smiled and extricated herself gently.

  “It seems like ages! Though of course it cannot be...” Alicia was saying enthusiastically. “Perhaps two weeks?”