Capturing the Earl

by A. S. Fenichel

  Breathing was only possible in gasps. Beaten handily because he acted like a fool, Wesley sighed. “I doubt talking will help my predicament.”

  Nick stood and offered Wesley a hand up. “Let’s go to the club and see if something can be done. At the very least, you’ll be able to get whatever it is off your chest.”

  Taking Nick’s offered hand, Wesley nodded.

  The ride from Jaffers Club to Whites gave Wesley time to breathe and remind himself that Nick and he had been friends since their first week at Eton. Nick was not the problem.

  He accepted a cup of tea from a footman once they’d seated themselves in a quiet corner of the men’s club. The dark woods and deep red and woodsy green fabrics gave him some relief from the fact that wherever he turned, his sight seemed to light on a willowy redhead with the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. At least in Whites she would never be admitted.

  Sighing, he sipped the tea and let the sun streaming in the large windows warm him.

  A low chuckle from Nick brought Wesley out of his blissful state. “Sorry,” Wesley said. “It’s just so perfectly peaceful here.”

  “Care to tell me where it is not so peaceful?” Nick exaggerated the word “not.” Holding his teacup in one hand and his saucer in the other, he stared over the rim at Wesley and raised one brow.

  “I have every intention of courting and marrying Lady Radcliff.” Wesley emphasized this determination by placing his cup with a snick into the saucer on the low table separating them.

  “And that is why you behaved little better than those two whelps we saw fencing when you walked in? Because you intend to marry and it has put you in a foul mood?” Much more carefully, Nick placed his cup and saucer on the table.

  “I have had some difficulty getting to know the lady. I had a plan to charm her and then propose, but it would seem she is not easily charmed.” Wesley tugged on his waistcoat.

  Nick huffed and his blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “You mean that you have spent more time charming her friend than you have her.” Nick held up a hand, stopping Wesley’s denial. “The Wallflowers, as they like to call themselves, are a tight group. They won’t let you in easily. If you really want Aurora, you’ll have to tread carefully. She is not inclined to marry again.”

  “I plan to change her mind.” Liking the confidence in his own voice, Wesley went on. “I can be very persuasive when I want something.”

  Nick sat forward, his mouth drawn in a stern line. “I am very fond of both Aurora and Mercy, Wes. Do not toy with them. If you mean to separate those women, you will fail. The bond they share is stronger than you or me. Be sure of what you want, for when you get one Wallflower, you get them all in one way or another.”

  “Are you telling me you can’t control you wife, Nick?” The idea that the Duke of Breckenridge had been brought low by a woman half his size was unfathomable.

  A wry smile tugged at Nick’s mouth as he sat back against the high-backed chair. “I have no need to control Faith. She is perfect as she is and trying to change her would make us both unhappy. Why do you want to marry Aurora?”

  Surprised by the sudden change of topic, Wesley stuttered for a moment. “I…She…” He pulled himself together. “It’s a good match. We are of equal status and she would be safe as the Countess of Castlewick. She has lands and titles that will give me connections. Why else do people marry?”

  Nodding, Nick called for more tea. “I see. Yes, on paper the match is a good one. I’m certain the lady’s mother would be delighted by the marriage. You would gain some very nice lands left to her by her first husband. It all seems to make sense.”

  “It makes perfect sense.” A wave of nausea made Wesley decline the footman’s offer of more tea.

  Nick picked up his full cup and sipped. “They why do you keep seeking out Mercedes Heath?”

  “I do nothing of the sort.” His pulse tripled at the mention of his affinity for the woman, ruining all his plans.

  There was Nick’s slow grin again. “A good friend of mine, Geb Arafa, is hosting a house party in a few weeks. You should join us. Geb will be delighted.”

  “I assume all the ladies will be there.” Wesley couldn’t get a single moment alone with Lady Radcliff in London. Maybe in the country it would be different.

  “Of course, all the Wallflowers of West Lane will be in attendance.”

  Wesley could secure Aurora’s affections with a few weeks in her company. It was a perfect scenario. Even as he told himself so, the image of green eyes and hair the color of a sunset after rain forged its way inside him. He held back the wave of excitement and pushed away his anger at himself for lacking control. “I know Mr. Arafa. I’ll speak to him myself if that’s all right with you.”

  “Of course.” Nick raised that brow again as if in a dare.

  Calling for pen and paper, Wesley posted a quick note of apology to Lady Aurora and explained that he would not be able to make their scheduled meeting at her West Lane townhouse. He decided his plan was better suited to the country setting.

  Nick excused himself to speak to someone across the room. When he returned, he said, “May I ask you something that is none of my business, Wes?”

  “You may ask.” Warning bells went off inside Wesley’s head.

  “It’s about Miss Heath. Is it her lack of title that keeps you from pursuing her? Because, if that is the case…”

  “That is not my reason. Lady Radcliff suits me better. We each have something to bring to the marriage. It will be an amicable match.” Wesley’s gut tightened painfully. What he wanted and what was the right thing to do never seemed to match up. Why should the finding of his bride be any different?

  Both of Nick’s brows rose high on his forehead. “I’m sure that’s true. However, the lady you speak of is not interested in marriage and Miss Heath is quite fascinating in her own right. She is not as mild mannered as she appears.”

  “What does that mean?” Wesley shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t have cared.

  Nick shrugged. “Someday, if you have the opportunity, perhaps you might ask the ladies about the death of the Earl of Radcliff. Personally, I’ve never had the nerve to find out the entire truth.”

  Surely his mouth was agape, Wesley didn’t know what to say or what his friend meant.

  “The fact is Aurora has declared she will never marry.” Nick put his cup down.

  “Then I must change her mind. I’ll not be talked out of it, Nick. Aurora is the woman I want. You cannot dissuade me.”

  Head cocked, Nick studied him for a long beat. “I wouldn’t dream of trying to alter your decision.”

  For once, Wesley didn’t take the bait. He changed the subject to matters of the House of Commons.

  * * * *

  His sisters were bickering in the parlor when Wesley arrived and he was about to skirt past the room and avoid coming between whatever they disagreed upon today. After his parents had died, he had taken on the task of raising his sisters. They were twins and rarely left each other’s company.

  Wesley had hired Mrs. Manfred to keep an eye on them and it had all turned out well enough.

  In the formal foyer with the dark woods of a masculine home, Peters took his hat. “Mr. Renshaw is with the ladies, my lord.”

  His cousin had been coming around far too often. “How long has my cousin been here?”

  “Over an hour, my lord. The ladies have both played for him and Mrs. Manfred has ordered tea twice.” Peters’s droll tone gave no indication of emotion.

  “It might be time to gather his things.” Wesley didn’t care for the notion that his cousin might be wooing one of his sisters. They were too young to fend off his charms.

  Peters bowed. “As you wish, my lord.”

  At the door to the parlor, Wesley took a deep breath and put on a mild expression. He and Malcolm were friends, but that di
dn’t mean he wasn’t after something. Inside, his sisters sat together on the cream damask sofa, whatever they had been arguing over now a distant memory.

  “Wesley, you are home early.” Ester rushed across the dark red and cream rug and kissed his cheek.

  “I changed my plans and thought we might have a nice afternoon together, but I understand tea has already been taken.” He patted her soft cheek and smiled. His sisters were a great joy to him. Both were sweet tempered and full of life.

  “How nice,” Charlotte said without standing. “I’m sorry we did not wait, but we thought you would be gone most of the day.”

  “Do not trouble yourself, Charlotte.” Wesley turned to Mrs. Manfred, who sat on a small gray chair near the windows. He gave her a nod of greeting before facing Malcolm, who stood by the hearth and grinned. “Renshaw.”

  “Castlewick.” Malcolm tipped his chin down. “I came to see you, but since you were out, I was charmed to spend time with my young cousins.”

  “Not so young.” Ester frowned and sat next to her sister.

  “You are both fine young ladies,” Wesley said. “Someday you will be happy to be called young.”

  “How did it go with Lady Radcliff?” Malcolm asked.

  “How did what go with Lady Radcliff?” Ester asked and sat on the edge of the cushion.

  Equally excited, Charlotte’s blond curls bounced around her heart-shaped face. “Are you courting Lady Radcliff? I have heard many of the ladies speak of her beauty.”

  “I heard she had a very bad marriage before her husband died.” Ester took up the story.

  “Her husband was killed in some dispute.” Charlotte gushed with excitement.

  “Enough.” Wesley held up a hand and hoped it would bring peace. “I have not begun to court her ladyship. I will not have you engaging in gossip. If I do court her, you will be the first to know and won’t you feel bad if you’d been talking behind her back?”

  Like a pair of surprised doves, his sisters stared at each other for several seconds. Finally, they calmed and gaped at him. As if by some silent agreement, Ester spoke. “We were only repeating what we have heard, Wes. I’m sure if you should choose to marry the lady, we will adore her.”

  It was impossible to stay annoyed with them when they smiled politely and looked at him so innocently.

  Malcolm coughed to hide his chuckle. “So, tell us how the courting is going.”

  Even Mrs. Manfred’s bright brown eyes were alight with curiosity and she’d put aside her sewing ring.

  “Thank you, Mal. I’m so glad you came by.” He stared down his cousin, who grinned back at him. “I’ll have you know that today I went to Jaffers to fence and then to my club with an old school chum. I didn’t see her ladyship and none of this is any of your business.”

  “You didn’t see her?” Malcolm stepped away from the fireplace. “You told me you would see her.”

  “I spoke to her at the theater, and dined with her last night at a party thrown by her mother, but decided against today’s visit.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to defend his actions.

  “She is the key to getting back what was lost.” Mal’s face turned bright red and his eyes narrowed.

  The ferocity of his cousin’s response made the hair on the back of Wesley’s neck stand up. “Calm yourself, Mal. You wouldn’t wish to upset my sisters.”

  Reining in his temper, Mal smiled at Charlotte and Ester, who sat wide eyed, clutching each other’s hands. “My apologies, ladies. I forgot myself.”

  “Indeed,” Wesley agreed. “Have you finished your tea?”

  Malcolm drew in a long breath and bowed. “Of course, I shall call another day, cousin. Ladies, it was a pleasure as always.”

  There was no conversation in the foyer and Wesley imagined Peters had been awaiting the exiting guest with hat in hand.

  Once the front door closed, Wesley prepared himself for the barrage of questions that was bound to pepper him.

  “What on earth caused Mal to get so upset?” Ester asked.

  “He was furious.” Charlotte stood her hands fisted. Her yellow day dress swirled around her legs as she strode over to Wesley. “Why was he angry?”

  In a similar dress of periwinkle, Ester approached more cautiously. “I’ve never seen him so emotional. He’s always been so charming. Did you anger him, Wes?”

  Wesley adored these girls. “You need not worry about Malcolm’s state. He was angry at me because he wants me to marry Lady Radcliff and is not happy that I have delayed.”

  “Are you in love with Lady Radcliff?” Charlotte cocked her head to the left.

  “Of course, he is.” Ester cocked her head to the right. “He would never marry someone he didn’t love.”

  “Shall we sit?” Wesley needed a moment to clear his head. He didn’t wish to lie to his sisters and he knew they would not like what he was about to say.

  Mrs. Manfred gripped her sewing ring and came to join them on a settee in front of the fireplace. She had a keen instinct for when his sisters might need her council. “The world is not always as clear as we might like, girls,” she said.

  “Thank you for that, Mrs. Manfred.” Wesley sat in an overstuffed chair covered in pale blue fabric and faced his sisters on the sofa.

  Two pairs of brown eyes quite similar to his own stared at him as if terrified over what he might say.

  “I like Lady Radcliff, but as yet I do not love her. She is beautiful and clever and owns property that our family must recover.” Impressed with how easily the words came out, Wesley could only hope his young sisters would understand.

  Charlotte blinked. “You plan to marry her for her property?”

  “I must recover what our grandfather lost. Luckily, Lady Radcliff is a very nice woman whom I think you will both be very fond of.” It was heart-crushing to voice these things to Charlotte and Ester, who idealized him and the world.

  Ester sighed. “We understand, Wes. If she is a good person, I’m sure she will come to love you. I still don’t understand why Mal was so enraged though.”

  “That is puzzling,” Charlotte agreed.

  “I’m not all together sure myself,” Wesley wondered if his cousin believed a quick marriage would give him some opportunity to court one of the twins. “He seems very focused on my marrying sooner rather than later.”

  All the times Malcolm had shown up at the house over the past six months suddenly seemed like a threat to the people he’d sworn to protect. “I think you should keep your distance from Malcolm.”

  “Why would you think that?” Ester asked.

  “He may have a notion to court one of you and I’ll not have that.” Worry and anger settled heavily in the pit of Wesley’s stomach.

  Mrs. Manfred sat up straighter. “He has always been a perfect gentleman, my lord, and I have never left the girls alone with him or any man other than yourself.”

  “You do an excellent job, madam.” He thought of Mercy’s ability to defend herself. “I recently met a lady who keeps a hatpin tucked in her hair when she attends balls and other events. She uses it against the unwanted advances of men. It seemed a worthy precaution.”

  The twins giggled.

  Ester asked, “Was it Lady Radcliff who kept the hatpin?”

  Their quick joy made him happy. “No, a friend of her ladyship shared the information with me, though I suspect her ladyship may be similarly armed.”

  The look he got from Mrs. Manfred was not particularly flattering, but Wesley just gave her a grin and she blushed and turned away.

  “Oh, Charlotte, we must begin to keep our hatpins handy. You have that one with the lovely large pearl. It will look very fine in your hair.” Ester bubbled with glee at the idea.

  Charlotte grinned. “We shall go immediately and assess our assortment of weapons.”

  They ran from the
parlor chattering and happy.

  Mrs. Manfred rose and made a curtsy. “I rather like the idea, my lord. This lady must be quite something.”

  Wesley rose. “I have met some extraordinary people these last few weeks. I should inform you, I will be traveling out of London soon. A house party in the country. I assume you can manage here.”

  “Of course, my lord.” Mrs. Manfred gave him a smile and went after the twins.

  Wesley went to his office to send a note to Geb Arafa to secure his invitation to the house party. Mr. Arafa had always been very accommodating and friendly. It was unlikely he would refuse. Still, he spent an hour crafting just the right letter before deciding to ride out to the gentleman’s home and discuss the matter in person.

  Chapter 7

  Parvus Castle

  Geb Arafa’s Country Home

  Mercy arrived with all the Wallflowers a few days earlier than Aurora’s mother and Aunt Phyllis. It was nice to be without the judgment or Mercy’s need to impress for a while. The salon’s fire burned low as the rain had finally stopped and left them with a cool summer day.

  Like a mother hen, Mercy kept an eye on Faith and Nick to make certain neither one appeared to be suffering any ill effects of being back in the castle where they were tortured by a group of French spies bent on revenge against Nick.

  Tall and elegant, Nick bent low to kiss Faith’s hand. The two stood by the window, smiling at each other as if they hadn’t a care in the world.

  Perhaps Mercy was looking for problems where there were none in order to avoid her own thoughts that seemed always to come back to a certain earl whom she had no business thinking about.

  “Miss Heath, when is your aunt arriving?” Geb Arafa sat in a large overstuffed chair with gold and light blue upholstery. His dark jacket was in the English style and suited him nearly as well as the Egyptian clothes he often wore.

  Mercy tugged her mind back to the people in the room. “She should be here any time. She is very much looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Arafa.”