The Earl's Irresistible Challenge

by Lara Temple

  Fool.

  He stopped at the sound of carriage wheels slowing to halt outside. Before either could speak the door opened.

  ‘It’s the carriage, miss...’ Nora paused, pressing her lips hard together. ‘It’s you again, eh?’

  ‘I told him to come, Nora. To give him the box.’

  ‘Could have sent it. Here’s your cloak, miss. We shouldn’t keep them boys waiting in the cold.’

  ‘May I deliver you somewhere, Lord Sinclair?’ Olivia offered, but Nora interceded.

  ‘Best not in the carriage, Miss Olivia. Can’t trust footmen not to gossip.’

  Lucas went to the door.

  ‘Lord Sinclair...’

  ‘I will call on you tomorrow at Brook Street, Miss Silverdale.’

  He didn’t turn or wait for her response.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Lord Sinclair is coming here? To Brook Street? Olivia Silverdale, you cannot be serious!’

  ‘Why not, Elspeth? A host of men call here with or without their mamas during your At Home hours. When I agreed to attend a few social events I did not take into account heiresses were so thin on the ground in London.’

  ‘I know, is it not wonderful? After all those years in Guilford I forgot how pleasurable it is to go out and about in town. By the way, I am expecting your new gowns from Fanchot this afternoon. I think the bronze and ivory will do for Lady Westerby’s soirée.’

  ‘I cannot believe we ordered them all, surely we will not need quite so many? The dressing room is already full to bursting.’

  Lady Phelps’s eyes slid away and immediately Olivia felt guilty and hurried on.

  ‘I adored the pale-yellow one you chose from the plates, Elspeth. I hope it looks half as lovely on me. And the lavender with the Greek motif on the flounces and at the waist is exquisite on you. I haven’t the eye for fashion you have. I probably would have chosen the blue.’

  ‘Blue is quite out of the mode at the moment, I’m afraid. But you cannot distract me, Olivia. Why is Lord Sinclair coming here? I know I promised I shan’t interfere in your other activities, but that was before Lady Barnstable took us up, or rather took you up. Oh, dear, it is all going to go horridly wrong, I can feel it in my bones. My dear, you must never tangle with men like Sinclair. Why, if you have even heard one-tenth of what they said of his grandfather and uncle! And of course his father was killed in a duel over another man’s betrothed!’

  ‘It is not very charitable to visit the sins of the fathers upon the sons, Elspeth.’

  ‘Certainly, and I would never consider doing so if not for this particular son’s activities. In particular with all those foreign women...’ She shuddered.

  ‘I know he is a rake, Elspeth. Mercer’s report was most thorough. However, you shall have to trust me that he is not in the least interested in my person or my fortune. Besides, he has been a little useful for your ends, hasn’t he? You cannot deny that waltz did more good than ill to enhance my standing.’

  ‘Well, I must admit for some reason men appear to have taken his interest in you as a challenge. And having Countess Lieven approve your waltz herself and publicly announce you will be receiving vouchers for Almack’s...well, that was quite a coup.’

  ‘There, you see? And that would not have happened without his good offices, so do try not to worry.’

  ‘But, my dear, how can I not worry when you spend half your days alone with Nora in Hans Town? I do wish now we are entering society again you would put all that aside. I know how devastated you are by Mr Payton’s passing, but... My dear, the Sinful Sinclairs are dangerous. You are out of your depth.’

  Olivia was spared having to answer her cousin’s impassioned appeal by the entry of their butler Pottle with the news that the packages from Madame Fanchot had arrived. Olivia held out her hand to her cousin.

  ‘Shall we go explore our new treasures?’

  Elspeth sighed. ‘You do know how to distract me, don’t you? Very well. But please be careful.’

  ‘I always am,’ Olivia lied.

  Elspeth’s nerves improved dramatically at the sight of the stack of boxes and layers of gowns the maids were arranging in the dressing room and Olivia meekly agreed to try on the new acquisitions. It was in the middle of this flurry of dressing and undressing and of silks and satins and muslins and gauze that Pottle announced Lord Sinclair’s arrival.

  ‘I shall be down directly, Pottle. No, Bessy, help Lady Phelps with her dress. I shan’t be long, Elspeth.’ Elspeth met her warning gaze with a look that was as descriptive of a heartfelt groan as any Olivia had seen but Olivia hurried downstairs, guilty yet determined. Whatever Elspeth hoped for during her return to society, Olivia had no intention of being deflected from her purpose. She was here to discover the truth about Henry and for that she needed Lord Sinclair’s co-operation.

  He stood by the mantelpiece, examining the miniature of her and her brothers. As always when she came into his presence she felt the unbidden response of her body, like the striking of a bell—a first sharp strike, discordant and uncomfortable, and then it peaked and settled into a warm hum. It was disorienting, but she refused to allow it to dictate her dealings with him. Eventually it would lose its edge, just as it had with Bertram. She knew better than to trust these feelings—today she could hardly even remember what she found so fascinating about her once betrothed. She must have been blinded indeed. She would not be so again.

  He turned at her entry, but did not immediately answer her greeting. She waited as he inspected her, pressing her hands together, wondering what he was thinking.

  ‘A trifle early in the day to be in full battle regalia, isn’t it?’ he asked at last.

  ‘Madame Fanchot just delivered my new dresses and we were in the middle of enjoying their unveiling. Do you like it? It is a little unconventional, I know, but she said the colours add lustre to my lacklustre appearance.’

  ‘That cannot possibly be a quote from Madame Fanchot. When she lies she does so to flatter.’

  She tried not to react to the mild compliment, concentrating instead on matters of business. She sat on the sofa and gestured to the chair opposite, but he joined her on the sofa and touched the fabric at the slope of her shoulder, his fingers lingering on the embroidered gold stars.

  ‘In answer to your question about the dress, I like it very much. Unconventionality suits you. Why is it that such a dress would look utterly reasonable in a ballroom and yet in this very proper drawing room it appears quite decadent?’ he murmured, his voice as silky as the fabrics encasing her. ‘I am curious, though. I thought in Brook Street you followed the dictates of your chaperon and yet here we are alone together in your drawing room. Where is Lady Phelps?’

  ‘She will join us later, but I wished to have a word with you alone first. She knows why I am in London, but I prefer not to burden her with the details of my activities. You need not worry I shall take advantage of you.’

  ‘I am not in the least worried about that, Miss Silverdale. You made it quite clear you are not interested in my person other than my kissing skills.’

  She ignored the taunt. Yesterday he had distracted her by listening to her nonsense about her brothers and the Knights of the Brown Stable with such interest and today she was determined she would not allow him to do the same, though a discussion of kissing would... No.

  ‘Quite. So... Shall we discuss how best to proceed? I know you do not think it a likely lead and I must admit a vicar is an unlikely candidate for a crime, but being a man of God is no guarantee of virtue and perhaps we should after all visit the Eldritches you mentioned.’

  ‘Just a moment, Miss Silverdale. Before you plunge on and start issuing demands I would like to make something very clear—if I agree to proceed down this path with you, we will do so on my terms.’

  She hauled hard on her internal reins and the smile that threatened and mer
ely nodded.

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘It appears far from obvious to you, so let me be absolutely clear about the rules. First and foremost, you will take no step and ask not one question without my approval. I will not interfere with your Brook Street existence as long as you refrain from tainting it with this quest. I understand why you wish to keep your activities cloaked by situating them at Spinner Street, but if you wish to continue your masquerade, there will be some changes.’

  ‘What changes?’

  ‘You sound as suspicious as if I am asking you to sign away your fortune. The first change is that I will send a young man to stay and act as footman there. Perhaps a maid as well. Your nurse can do with the help and you can do with the protection.’

  Olivia forced a frown. It would certainly not do to show how delighted she was by this sign of his willingness to deepen his involvement.

  ‘I do not need protection.’

  ‘You are the one spouting on about conspiracies. This is not open to negotiation.’

  ‘Oh, very well. What else?’

  ‘You do nothing behind my back.’

  ‘I already agreed to that. Anything else?’

  For a moment he looked a little uncertain and it occurred to her he was younger than Guy, which was strange because he seemed older, or rather, ageless—more an idea than a person. With the watchful and focused intensity gone she could see him as a boy. He would have been twelve when his father died, old enough to be thoroughly aware of death and disgrace. She clasped her hands against the need to reach out. Sympathy would have him out the door faster than she could make a fool of herself. Finally, he spoke.

  ‘Tubbs, my butler, found a trunk with my father’s belongings, or rather whatever was sent from Boston after his death. It has been gathering dust in the attic. I haven’t looked... I haven’t had time to inspect it yet, but Tubbs tells me there are books and papers in it. If you wish I can have it brought to Spinner Street. You may do what you want with it and then consign the contents to the fire. I doubt they are good for anything other than kindling. As long as you do not disclose anything you find there to anyone.’

  ‘Lord Sinclair, are you certain...?’

  He stood and went to the mantelpiece, nudging the miniature further to the centre. ‘Do you or don’t you want to look through the contents of that trunk, Miss Silverdale?’

  ‘Yes, but...’

  ‘Don’t expect me assuage your conscience as well as give in to your requests. Choose.’

  A decent person would step back, Olivia told herself. Would respect the pain he was not willing to voice, but was so evident. Henry himself would probably tell her she was stepping deeper and deeper into moral murkiness. But if there was even a slim chance of finding the truth, she had to take it. It would be foolish to forgo this opportunity merely to protect sensibilities she was not at all certain Lucas Sinclair possessed.

  Choose.

  ‘I promise to respect the contents of the trunk, Lord Sinclair.’

  He didn’t answer and guilt tightened its talons about her, but she held herself from retreating.

  He returned to the sofa and in those short steps she saw the transformation back to Sinful Sinclair. He did not sit, which put her at an even more distinct disadvantage to his substantial size. He smiled and once again flicked the trim of her sleeve with his finger, causing another shiver of awareness to snake up her shoulder, but this time it merged with the ache of her heart and her conscience, leaving her strangely breathless.

  ‘You will do very well in London if you are careful, Miss Silverdale. I can see why Dorothea was taken with you; she must have seen the echoes of her own ruthless streak. Very well, I shall have the trunk delivered to Spinner Street tomorrow. Tell your combative nurse that Jem, one of the boys delivering it, will be staying. You needn’t worry she will be too upset, he will soon charm her and I think she is sensible enough to know you will be safer with someone reliable in the house.’

  ‘Lord Sinclair...’

  ‘No, don’t ruin it with an insincere show of conscience now that you have what you want. Enjoy rooting through my father’s remains. Now if you will excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to. Unless you wish to convince me to remain?’

  There was no flirtatious warmth in his dark eyes, no mocking knowledge of his power. The question was an attack, defying her. When she didn’t answer he laughed and left.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Good Lord, again?’

  ‘Perhaps the rumours are true after all? I did not credit it, but twice in one week... My dear Lady Barnstable, it is quite unprecedented.’

  ‘What rumours, Lady Westerby?’ Elspeth asked and the little clutch of matrons leaned closer together.

  Olivia shook open her fan, wondering how much longer she and Lady Phelps had to stay before it would be considered polite to leave the soiree. It was not a good sign that she was already tiring of these occasions, but they did appear to be rather repetitive. Listening to Bertram’s enthusiastic accounts of London society it had been the pinnacle of her ambition to go there one day as his wife. Yet here she was, with a slew of titled gentlemen vying for her attention, even if primarily for pecuniary reasons, and all she could think of was her mistake regarding Lord Sinclair. She kept assuring herself this was no time for scruples, but she still felt as slimy as a slug and about as appetising.

  She forced her attention to the whispered discussion around her.

  ‘What other reason could there be?’ Lady Barnstable was saying behind the protection of her purple-silk fan. ‘This is his second appearance at a social function in a week. It is quite unprecedented, I tell you. Just look at him, as cool as the devil himself. As if there is nothing at all untoward about it.’

  That caught her attention, and when the women looked as directed Olivia knew what she would see. Lucas Sinclair was standing just inside the main entrance to the ballroom, in conversation with a group of elegantly dressed gentlemen. He stood in the group and yet utterly apart. It wasn’t merely his height and the hint of the Latin in his dark looks. Despite the humour in his hooded eyes, there was something too aware in his stance, as if he was incapable of relaxing his guard. When the blow came, he would be ready for it while the rest of those in the room might not even realise it had been struck.

  Her conscience tugged at her again, as it had hourly since he’d left Brook Street earlier that day, and she quashed it again. Lord Sinclair had not achieved his reputation by accident and it was ludicrous to tiptoe around his feelings. If there was even a chance she might discover something pertinent to Henry’s death in Howard Sinclair’s papers, it was worth the cost. The only reason she had sought association with the earl was to redeem Henry’s reputation; to baulk now would be disloyal.

  Lucas turned his head and met her gaze and she realised he knew precisely where she was. As his gaze lingered on her, the voices of the women by her fell as if an announcement was pending. Clearly they were wondering whether Sinful Sinclair would repeat his performance by acknowledging the northern heiress. Olivia could almost feel the tension of their expectation quivering the air around her.

  He turned away, without even the perfunctory nod of recognition, returning to the gentlemen at his side. Olivia clenched herself around the all-too-familiar sensation of humiliation and rejection. For two whole months after refusing to marry Bertram she lived with these sharp waves of mortification as the residents of Gillingham turned their backs on her one by one.

  ‘For your own good,’ Bertram’s aunt told her after another matron failed to nod to her in the square. ‘You’ve run too wild all your life, Olivia Silverdale, you and your brothers. Maybe now you’ll come to your senses, marry my nephew and start behaving as a proper young woman ought.’

  For two months Olivia held her ground before she indeed came to her senses and left Gillingham to live with Elspeth rather than ma
rry the man who betrayed her or bow to the people who rejected her. Only her poor brothers and Henry Payton took her side, accepting her decision though she told no one but Henry the truth. It was unfair that Henry’s kindness and unstinting loyalty cost him and his family everything.

  It was a salutary reminder of what mattered. Not what these shallow people thought of her, but repaying the trust and lifelong care of the Paytons. She would not lose sight of her objective. Lord Sinclair was angry with her at the moment for revealing a weakness of his, but though he was a rake he would stand by his word and help her and that was all that mattered.

  When her dance partner came to claim her she smiled brightly and brought to bear every skill she had learned by wheedling her brothers into allowing her to take part in their activities. By the time the dance was over she had made another conquest and was exhausted and thoroughly depressed.

  ‘Isn’t Mr Bolton charming?’ Elspeth whispered to Olivia. ‘He is very eligible. It cannot even be said that he needs your dowry, he has a very nice property in Sussex, you know. And so handsome.’

  Olivia frowned. Had he been handsome?

  ‘He reminds me of Colin,’ she replied.

  ‘Colin? Oh, Colin Payton. You really should not refer to young men in such familiar terms in public, my dear, no matter how close a family friend. Besides, Mr Bolton is much more handsome and the Boltons are among the finest families in England. Lady Barnstable noted it especially and I foresee even more attention from her son now. Who is your next partner? Oh, it is a waltz. I did tell you it was not a good idea to dance with That Man. No one dares follow in his footsteps and invite you to waltz. See, they are all watching to see who will be brave enough to step forward. It is truly most bothersome. When we attend Almack’s next week I must secure you an unexceptionable partner.’