An Earl to Enchant: The Rogues' Dynasty

by Amelia Grey

  Arianna wondered if the earl played either of the instruments, or did he perhaps have them available for his guests to play. She walked over to the pianoforte and let her fingers glide softly over the cool, smooth, dark mahogany wood. She closed her eyes and imagined the room filled with beautifully gowned ladies and handsomely dressed gentlemen. She imagined the earl standing before her in his evening coat, smiling, bowing, and then taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor.

  Shaking her head, Arianna opened her eyes and smiled. Why was she having these fanciful notions about the earl? It was absolutely ridiculous. He was arrogant, maddening, and ill-tempered. He was quite the master at giving orders and expecting them to be obeyed without question. But she also knew he looked like the paintings she’d seen of Apollo, Adonis, and the statue of David. She realized that thinking that kind of nonsense was just another indication of how weak her mind and body still were from the fever.

  Strolling down the corridor, Arianna stopped at the double doors just behind the staircase and saw immediately that it was the drawing room where the earl had taken her after she had fainted. When she entered, the most prominent item in the room was the life-sized painting of a tall, regal lady dressed in a formal black gown and standing by a chair, with a smug expression on her face. She had briefly noticed the oil a couple of nights ago.

  Arianna walked closer to get a better look. One hand rested on the chair and the other on her hip. But what most caught Arianna’s immediate attention was the necklace she wore. There had to be at least five strands of the exquisite pearls draped around her neck. Each strand fell to just below her waist.

  After a closer look at the woman’s face, Arianna saw that the woman and Lord Morgandale had the same color of extraordinary blue eyes. The painter had perfectly captured the shade she remembered. This had to be his grandmother, Lady Elder.

  Arianna recalled the earl saying something about the Talbot pearls, and she couldn’t help but wonder if those were the ones the lady wore.

  Glancing around the room, Arianna saw that all the chintz, velvets, and watered silk in the room were in pastel colors and either floral or stripes in design. None of the fabrics were bold or intense. She was once again reminded of the differences in the shades of dyes of Indian and British people. Indians loved to use rich, vibrant colors in their homes and in their clothing, while it appeared that most of the English people preferred pale, subdued shades.

  She had enjoyed her time in that faraway land, but her short stay in the earl’s home helped her realize that England was where she belonged. Her father had told her before his death that they would be leaving India to return to England. He wanted to present his extraordinary findings to the Royal Apothecary Scientific Academy, and then he would put his research aside until she was properly wed to a suitable and worthy gentleman. Only then did he plan to return to India to continue his work.

  A pang of sorrow sliced through her.

  Arianna took a deep breath and refused to let the melancholy take hold. She looked at the brass-encased clock on the mantel and saw that it was after six. The earl had not arrived, and although she was growing tired, she decided to continue her perusal of the house.

  The next room she came to drew an audible gasp from her. The spacious, elaborately mirrored dining room held a table set with thirty chairs and five evenly spaced silver candelabras, each holding twelve candles. She pulled out one of the chairs padded with light blue cushions and sat down, pretending she was a guest at a lavish affair.

  After leaving the dining room, she took a quick peek into the breakfast room, where she saw a round table circled by eight ladder-back chairs. A corner china cabinet displayed a lovely china pattern. The white plate had a pink rose in the center with three colorful butterflies surrounding it.

  Astounded by the opulence of the rooms, Arianna moved down to a door at the end of the corridor and walked inside.

  Startled, she gasped. “Oh, excuse me, my lord, I apologize for intruding. I had no idea you would be in here.”

  Lord Morgandale rose from his chair behind the desk, and Arianna’s heart skipped a beat. What she saw of him two nights ago hadn’t done him justice. She swallowed the lump of appreciation that clogged her throat.

  The earl was tall and powerful-looking in his black coat cut perfectly to fit across his straight shoulders and broad chest, which tapered to a slim waist and lean hips that were hidden beneath buff-colored breeches. The fabric of his camel-colored waistcoat and expertly tied neckcloth spoke of prosperity and privilege, and he wore both of them well. The style of his fine, dark brown hair was straight and attractive, hanging longer at his nape. Feathery wisps fell across his thick eyebrows, making him look a little roguish, a little daring, but also breathtakingly handsome.

  Arianna’s chest tightened, and her stomach quickened deliciously when she realized Lord Morgandale was looking her over as carefully as she was perusing him. She watched his gaze skim down her face, over her breasts, before he glanced back up to meet her eyes once again. His deliberate scrutiny made her tingle with expectancy all the way down to her toes.

  After what she must have looked like when she arrived, after her more than two months journey, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction when she saw in his eyes that he approved of the way she looked now.

  Clearing her throat, she said, “I was walking around your home. It’s lovely.”

  He acknowledged her compliment with a nod. “I heard you.”

  “You did?”

  “I’ve been waiting for you. I knew you would eventually make your way into my book room.”

  “You were so quiet, I didn’t know you were in the house. I thought you would be in the drawing room.” Arianna stopped talking when she saw humor in his eyes. Much to her consternation, she had amused him once again.

  “I don’t usually make a noise when I go over my account books. Would you have been happier if I had been running around my house as if I were a nincompoop?”

  He smiled at her, and Arianna’s heart started beating faster. She couldn’t have kept herself from returning his smile and a breath or two of a chuckle even if she had wanted to. He was so engaging that she was powerless to control the new and intriguing sensations that she felt whenever he was near.

  “No, of course not, my lord. I can’t imagine you ever being that silly. I only meant that I wouldn’t have ventured into your private domain if I had known you were working.”

  “But now that you are here, I must say that you look as though you are feeling a little better today.”

  “I am. So, as much as I would like to take issue with you for sending my driver away, I cannot. I know that it would serve me and my maid well to stay put for a few days to rest.”

  He cocked his head to one side and said, “Was there a thank you in what you just said, Miss Sweet? If so it was unrecognizable as one to me.”

  His tone, the shimmer of humor in his eyes, made her stomach quicken excitedly.

  She nodded, smiled, and then said, “Yes. Thank you for taking me into your home and allowing me to stay here while I regain my strength before continuing my journey.”

  “You are welcome. I see no reason to hurry your recuperation, so I took the liberty of sending a letter to a friend of mine who resides in London in hopes that she can come to Valleydale, as long as you need to be here, and escort you to London. Perhaps she can even be your companion while you search for one.”

  Arianna pursed her lips. She was grateful for his shelter for a few days but couldn’t allow him to take charge of her life.

  “My lord, I am twenty-seven.”

  “That old?” He gave her a look of feigned horror, which she chose to ignore.

  “Yes, and I have been on my own for several months now. I have my maid with me, and you have Mrs. Post. Surely, you don’t need to go to the trouble for the short time I will be here. As soon as I can I must travel on to London.”

  “I agree that you may not need a companion
with you, Miss Sweet, but I do.”

  She searched his face, trying to decide if he were serious or finding his amusement at her expense once again. His eyes were so disarming, she couldn’t tell.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  He walked from behind his desk and over to where she stood. “Imagine what it would do to my spotless reputation in London if someone found out that I had a young lady staying in my home and did nothing to secure her a proper companion. Why, I would be the talk of London.”

  His horrified expression was so exaggerated, Arianna smiled. He could be an engaging rogue when he wanted to be. No doubt with those eyes, that smile, and his teasing conversation, he had broken hearts all over London.

  “Spotless reputation?” she questioned with a knowing smile.

  His heavenly blue eyes sparkled. “Odd as it sounds, do you doubt that?”

  “Yes, my lord. And my usual good sense, which I admit leaves me at times, tells me that you are already the talk of London.”

  He chuckled. “Perhaps I am. But on the odd chance that I am not, you don’t want to ruin my good reputation, do you?”

  “That is an impossible notion.”

  “So is the notion of you arriving in London without a proper companion. Propriety can be overlooked here for a time because of your illness, but London Society is unforgiving.” He moved closer to her and in a low voice said, “You know, your laughter is quite fetching. You should do it more often.”

  Arianna was amazed at how quickly his tall, powerful body seemed to fill up the space around her. A shivery awareness of him stole over her, stirring up her womanly senses. It was so unlike her to be attracted to a man in this way, and especially to a man who frustrated her as much as this one did. She didn’t know what to do about it.

  She lifted her lashes and looked into his eyes. Taking a calming breath, she said, “It felt good to laugh, my lord. I haven’t had much reason to lately.”

  The earl leaned in nearer to her. She sensed his strength, and she felt the heat of his body as pleasing warmth flooded her, though he never touched her.

  “Perhaps your luck is about to change for the better.”

  “It would be welcomed,” she managed to say without sounding as breathless as she felt.

  “There is another reason it will be good for Mrs. Constance Pepperfield to come to Valleydale and accompany you to London should she accept my invitation.”

  “What is that, my lord?”

  His face moved a little closer to hers. Her gaze met his and held. The fresh-washed scent of shaving soap stirred the air and teased her nose.

  “She can guide you as to who in London might be seeking employment as a companion.”

  “I can see the value in that.”

  “She can make introductions, will know addresses, and if necessary, can help you write letters to the appropriate people.”

  With him so close, Arianna didn’t know how she was managing to continue the conversation. Her legs suddenly seemed weak, and she knew the feeling didn’t come from her recent illness but from her body’s unusual reaction to the earl’s nearness.

  “That would, indeed, be most helpful.”

  “Good.”

  “Though I’m not sure how I can ever repay you.”

  “Perhaps you can by simply accepting my hospitality graciously.”

  Teasing sensations skittered across her breasts, down her stomach, and settled low. She sensed a quickening between her legs. She stared into his eyes again and suddenly felt hot, breathless, and eager for something, but she didn’t know what. She didn’t understand why the earl caused her to have all these delicious and wonderful feelings when she wasn’t even sure she liked him.

  She was barely breathing but managed to say, “That I can do. Thank you, my lord.”

  “See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

  Arianna shook her head.

  Lord Morgandale bent his head to the crook of her neck and breathed in deeply. She stood perfectly still and was certain she felt his lips, or maybe it was the tip of his nose, that lightly touched her skin as he whispered in a husky voice, “What is that exotic scent that I smell?”

  Suddenly, the same glorious sensations she’d felt earlier rushed through her once again.

  He kept his face hovering so close to her neck that she tingled all over. “It’s a blend of oils from various plants in India. My father made it into perfumed water for me. If it bothers you, I can refrain from using it while I’m here.”

  “It bothers me,” he said softly, “but don’t stop using it.”

  He lifted his head slowly. She felt his breath fanning her heated skin as it skimmed over her jawline, up her cheek, past her eye, until he looked down at her again.

  A small puff of air was all that escaped her lips. She knew she should step away, but she had no desire to do so. She stood there, barely breathing, and allowed him to mesmerize her with his assault on her senses.

  Morgan swallowed hard, and his chest heaved. His lips were so close to hers he could almost feel them. He wanted to feel them beneath his own. He had been attracted to her when she first arrived at his door and, if possible, he was even more attracted to her now. Propriety and the devil be damned, he wanted to kiss her. He bent his head closer to hers, but just a second before his lips touched hers, Morgan heard his butler’s familiar footsteps coming down the corridor.

  Perfect timing.

  Morgan stepped away from Miss Sweet and turned toward the doorway as the servant stepped into view. “Yes, Post.”

  “Excuse me, my lord,” the servant said from the doorway. “May I have a private word with you?”

  “Certainly.”

  Thanking his lucky stars, Morgan walked over to where the butler stood. Kissing Miss Sweet was the last thing he needed to do.

  “Miss Francine Goodbody has arrived,” Post whispered, “and would like to speak to you.”

  Morgan swore softly. “This is not good news, Post.”

  “I didn’t think so, my lord.”

  Damnation, she was two days late. In truth, he had forgotten all about the woman. He had assumed she had found something better to do than keep her appointment with him. He hadn’t even heard a carriage drive up the lane, but that might have been because he was so busy engaging Miss Sweet in mindless conversation and trying his best to keep his hands and his lips off her.

  What an uncomfortable position to be in. He found no humor in the current situation fate had sprung on him, but he had the urge to laugh at the improbability of it.

  Instead, Morgan quickly considered his few options and said, “Show her into the drawing room, and tell her I will join her shortly.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Post said and turned away.

  Morgan took his time walking back to Miss Sweet. With luck he could get Miss Goodbody out of the house without Miss Sweet ever knowing the courtesan was there.

  “Something has come up that needs my attention, Miss Sweet. But since you are in my book room, why don’t you take your time and browse through the titles and pick out several books to read? Assuming Mrs. Pepperfield is available to come to Valleydale, it will be a few days before she will arrive. I think you should spend most of that time in your bedchamber, resting. Reading will help you pass the time.”

  “Thank you, my lord. I would love the opportunity to look over your books. I’m sure there are many here that I haven’t read.”

  Morgan nodded and said, “Good. And remember, take your time. There’s no hurry.”

  She smiled at him, and his stomach clenched. Damnation, what was wrong with him? He was feeling like a schoolboy with his first romantic crush.

  “I will.”

  “Good evening, Miss Sweet.”

  Morgan derided himself as he walked down the corridor to the drawing room.

  What a hell of a mess he’d gotten himself into! Two nights ago he’d convinced himself that Miss Goodbody had decided not to come. But now that she had, there was no way he co
uld allow her to stay overnight with Miss Sweet in the house. Not that anyone would ever know except him, but still he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  Fate had a wickedly odd sense of humor.

  This situation had almost become laughable. How could it be that the one time he had invited a woman of the evening into his home, a lady of quality arrived, as well?

  Morgan strode confidently into the drawing room, and Miss Goodbody rose from the settee and curtseyed graciously.

  Morgan swallowed hard. It would be sheer hell sending her away. She was as beautiful, as enticing, and as voluptuous as his solicitor had promised. Golden blonde hair was piled high on top of her head, with a few wispy curls framing her delicate face. Her dark brown eyes were full of expression, and her smile was alluring. Her pale pink dress was cut temptingly low, showing the full swell of her lovely breasts.

  It had been weeks since he had been with a woman, and looking at her, he couldn’t help but question if he really wanted to send her away.

  Morgan took a deep, steadying breath and said, “Good-evening, Miss Goodbody. I’m afraid I had given up on your arrival.”

  She took a step toward him, smiling seductively, leaving him no doubt that she would be all that his solicitor had promised. But of course, Morgan had no choice but to send Miss Goodbody back to London without so much as a taste of her alluring body.

  Suddenly he had two desirable women in his house, and he couldn’t touch either one of them. Society would be unforgiving if anyone ever found out that he had a woman of Miss Goodbody’s ilk in his home at the same time he had a lady like Miss Sweet as his guest. No, he couldn’t take the chance, no matter that his body clawed at him to do otherwise.