by Rose Gordon
Brooke cracked a smile. A moment of silence passed before she spoke. “I just wish they hadn’t decided to act that particular scene out in front of company. It makes me look like an absolute idiot.”
Andrew chucked. “It wasn’t your fault, you know. And trust me, it could have been worse. Knowing you just the little that I do, I would imagine this incident is probably far from the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to you.”
“Perhaps we should play something else?” Mrs. Banks said suddenly, seeming to realize something was wrong.
“Perhaps we should all call it a night,” Mr. Banks suggested.
“Indeed,” Andrew replied, giving a thankful look to Mr. Banks. “It has been a most pleasant evening. I have enjoyed your hospitality.” Then turning to Brooke he asked, “Would you be interested in joining me at the British Museum of Natural History the day after tomorrow?”
“That would be lovely,” Brooke murmured.
Andrew bowed to the family and made his exit.
***
“I shall retire now,” Brooke announced immediately after Andrew was gone.
“I would say the evening was a success,” Carolina chirped.
“How would you define success, Carolina?” John asked, not unkindly, folding his hands in his lap and gazing at his wife.
“Brooke has secured another outing with the earl. I think that makes it a success,” Carolina clarified.
“That’s true, but she also ended her evening embarrassed and near tears,” John added solemnly.
“I don’t think so,” Liberty argued. “What is there for her to be embarrassed about? We all know it wasn’t even her fault it happened.”
“Perhaps it’s that she had one of her most humiliating moments put on display in front of a gentleman,” John answered. He may not pretend to know the mind of his daughter, but he’d spent enough time in the presence of others during his work as a minister to know enough about feelings and other such nonsense to know something was out of place where Brooke was concerned. Exactly what, he couldn’t say. But something was certainly off.
“Oh, do be serious, John,” Carolina said dismissively. “Brooke found it just as humorous when it happened as everyone else did. She even went around for weeks, telling anyone within earshot about the incident. That includes the countless number of suitors she had back in New York.” She paused. “I even heard her recount the story just last fall to that Davis boy we all thought she’d marry. They both found it highly amusing.”
“Perhaps this time it’s different. Mayhap she has stronger feelings for this one,” John mused.
Chapter 8
Andrew wondered when his life had turned into a giant game. The worst part was he didn’t know what piece in the game he was playing: the pawn or the master manipulator. It all depended on which other players were present at the time. For now, he was going to play the manipulator, again.
Andrew had been searching for his friend, Alex Banks, for more than an hour. Finally, he found him at his club, sitting at a table and reading a newspaper.
“Alex,” Andrew called, catching his attention.
“Ho there, old chap,” Alex countered.
Alex really was a good sort, even if he did talk and act like a simpleton at times. He was highly intelligent but he often missed the obvious, especially when it was staring him in the face.
They’d vaguely known each other at Eton. But Andrew’s friendship with Benjamin at the time came at a cost: Benjamin had selected his friends for him.
At Cambridge, things changed. By that time, Andrew no longer felt obligated to be friends with Benjamin, who hadn’t even bothered to attend. Andrew had made his own friends, one of which was Alex.
After school, they'd continued to be friends. They traveled together for a while at first, then came back to London and stepped into their roles, Andrew as an earl and Alex a mere mister who was the heir to his father’s barony.
Andrew took a seat at the table where Alex was reading his newspaper. “I heard your father is throwing a house party.” No point in beating around the bush.
Alex didn’t even bat an eyelash. “You heard right. Are you looking for an invitation, Andrew?” At Andrew’s nod Alex remarked, “This is a respectable party, Andrew. There will be no skirt-chasing, clear?”
Andrew swallowed hard before nodding again.
“I knew I didn’t have to worry about you. You have never been a despoiler of innocents, but I do have some cousins who will be there, so I just had to make sure you understood.”
Andrew felt those words like a punch to the gut. He was going to lose even more than he initially thought when this was all over. The few friends he had now would also be gone forever, Alex included. Alex was not likely to forgive a man who deliberately hurt a member of his family, particularly ruining an innocent young lady.
“No worries there,” Andrew said roughly. “I’m just looking for something to do for a while. If I meet a woman who I want to make my countess, well, it will just be good luck on my part,” he added jovially.
Alex eyed him skeptically, and then snorted. “You had me going there for a minute. You finding a countess.” He shook his head.
Andrew stiffened. “What does that mean?”
“Oh, don’t get all worked up. It meant nothing really. It’s just that you are a bachelor. Always have been, always will be,” Alex said with a shrug.
It wouldn’t do for Andrew to contradict this. If Alex thought he was a lifelong bachelor then he wouldn’t be concerned overmuch with Andrew being in Brooke’s company.
“You’re right, I am not the marrying kind,” Andrew agreed. “I had better be off.”
Andrew picked up his hat and departed. Walking home, he couldn’t help but think about how well things were going for him. Pieces were moving into place better than he would have imagined. If only he could get past his guilt, then everything would be perfect.
***
Benjamin Collins, Duke of Gateway, stared at his guest. It wasn’t usual for her to visit more than once or twice a year at most. He’d seen her already twice in the past six months, so her presence today was quite unexpected.
But that didn't matter. He was glad to see her today. She’d once been the closest person in the world to him. But when she ended things, for reasons he didn’t understand at the time, he had taken steps to hurt her and the only other person in the world she loved: her son.
Though their separation hadn’t lasted long, he’d always been careful not to become too close to her, or anyone for that matter, again.
One reason he’d kept his distance was he didn’t want to accidentally mention that he was the cause of the pain for her and her son. Occasionally, he’d feel a little guilt about it when she spoke of her son and had that distant look in her eyes, but he’d never actually been able to openly admit either his part or his guilt about it. At the time, he had felt his actions were justified because of the pain she’d caused him.
At one point he’d even tried to fix everything in a way that would not expose his part. But that eventually led to more problems, so he washed his hands of it and felt no guilt. At least he’d tried.
“What brings you here today, Lizzie?” he asked, his voice lacking any emotion.
“To see you, of course,” she replied cheerfully.
“To see me? Why would you want to do that?” Benjamin took a seat in a chair near her.
Lizzie smiled. “Why, because you are one of my two favorite people, of course. And since you don’t respond to my correspondence—” she gave a speaking glance over to where some letters were stacked on the corner of his desk— “I thought I would come and inquire about your welfare personally.”
Benjamin gave her a thin smile. He’d never been one for writing letters, and she knew it. At one time, he would have dearly loved to have a letter from her. He had actually longed for one and would have written her back immediately. But not now. No, not answering her letters was just his underhanded w
ay of punishing her for not sending him one when he craved one so badly.
“I am doing well,” he said flatly. “You?”
“The same as always,” she said with a watery smile.
They were both quiet for a few minutes. Benjamin had never been much of a conversationalist, and Lizzie didn’t speak much unless she had something to say or was forced to talk.
“Are you planning to attend the Watson house party next week?” Lizzie asked, breaking the silence. “I hear they have some American relations who are also to be in attendance.” She wagged her eyebrows suggestively at him.
He chose to ignore Lizzie’s clear attempt at matchmaking. “I will not be attending,” he said simply, as if to end the discussion.
Lizzie broke into a wide grin. “Why, Benjamin, I thought you had a tendre for the oldest daughter. I did read your name linked to hers in a scandal sheet no more than three days ago. What’s wrong, Benny, was the waltz not close enough for you?”
Benjamin grimaced at her words. He knew she was just having her fun. He wasn’t going to ruin it for her though. Fun was something Lizzie had very little of in her life. He thought back to the night she was talking about with a crystal clear memory. Brooke Banks had made such a fool of him, and worst of all, he’d let her.
“Maybe I will go to the party after all. Something interesting always seems to happen at house parties. I wouldn’t want to miss something. Will you be going?”
“You mean do I plan to willingly surround myself with a bunch of gossiping old dowagers with fire pokers up their arses? The answer is no.” Lizzie’s voice was full of conviction.
Gateway couldn’t help but smile, leave it to Lizzie to be so blunt. He could always count on her to be completely frank and honest with him. It is probably why they had stayed so close over the years. They both hated society and its rules, and neither of them gave a thought to what others thought of them for it.
Chapter 9
Brooke had always thought she had the perfect mother. As a child, Brooke remembered her mother taking the girls on walks or to play in a nearby park. Even with three girls, Mama had never hired a nursemaid. Mama had taken care to make sure her daughters were dressed to the height of fashion. She had interviewed dozens of tutors to find the most intelligent and disciplined one to teach her daughters. As her girls got older she introduced them to social circles and instructed them on the most valuable points to finding a good husband, like hers.
But even with all of Mama’s instructions, Brooke still doubted she would truly capture the attentions of such a lofty man as the earl. And yet, he seemed to be courting her.
In preparation for their outing today, she was reading a tome on British history so as not to appear completely unintelligent in front of the earl at the museum.
Meanwhile, Mama was quietly sitting beside her on the pink settee. She had no book in her hands. She had no embroidery in her hands. She had no sewing in her hands. Instead, she had empty hands and a wistful smile on her face.
“You look like a lovesick debutante,” Brooke told her mother, looking up from her book.
“Well, I cannot help it that I’m so happy. I mean how many other women can go around saying their daughter will soon be a countess?” Mama squealed with delight.
“You do not know that you can even go around saying that. We are not betrothed, after all,” Brooke remarked.
“Poppycock, you know the earl has his sights set on you. He basically declared his love to you in front of all the family at dinner. And,” Mama added, “his words to Papa seemed to indicate that he is most serious about you. If that isn’t enough to convince you, he asked you to accompany him to the museum today. I think that clearly indicates his interest in you.”
“Maybe he asked me to go because he felt bad for me after I was so clearly embarrassed in front of him,” Brooke parried.
“Stop being silly. The man has a sincere interest in you. I do wonder why you were so humiliated by that silly little act, anyway. You have never been that embarrassed about the incident before. Why now?”
“I don’t know. It just seemed different to tell him,” she said with a shrug.
“His lordship, the Earl of Townson,” Turner announced, opening the door to the drawing room, keeping Mama from asking any more questions.
Brooke and Mama stood and curtsied to the earl, and he bowed. His bow was much lower than necessary. Maybe he did fancy her after all.
“Are you ladies ready to be off, then?” Andrew asked cordially.
“Yes, my lord, let me grab my shawl,” Mama answered as Brooke walked over to the earl.
The trio was almost to the front of the house when suddenly the door swung open to reveal a disappointed Madison.
“Why are you not at the sewing circle?” Mama asked her.
“Mrs. Ingram is ill and our meeting was cancelled,” Madison said glumly.
Genuine sympathy for Madison built up in Brooke’s chest. Madison had no real joy in her life, except sewing. She had fun with her sisters, but her real enjoyment came from helping others, which she did in the form of sewing for the less fortunate.
“We’re on our way to the British Museum of Natural History. Would you like to come along with us?” Andrew asked Madison.
“Are you certain that I won’t be intruding?” Madison asked shyly.
“No, I’m not certain that you won’t be intruding, but I’m certain it will be a nice intrusion,” Andrew replied.
Brooke’s heart skipped a beat. He was being so nice to Madison and without being prompted to be. It would have been rude for her or Mama to invite Madison, but he did it on his own. Most people easily dismissed Brooke’s sister. But not Andrew. He'd been kinder to Madison than she’d seen any man ever be. Brooke could have kissed him for it.
Mama linked arms with Madison, and together the four of them walked to Andrew’s carriage.
“Thank you,” Brooke said quietly when Andrew was helping her in the carriage.
“For what?” Andrew asked, perplexed.
“For inviting Madison. You didn’t have to.”
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. She looked rather disappointed that she didn’t get to go sew for the poor. I thought coming with us might brighten her day. Plus, maybe she’ll feel compelled to sew me something,” he teased.
Brooke gave him a bright smile then took her seat in the carriage.
With four people in the earl’s carriage it felt quite snug, yet comfortable. Andrew took advantage of the close proximity and his large size by innocently sprawling out, claiming that he needed more space. Brooke was skeptical, but didn’t question it, especially when he lightly pressed his thigh against hers.
Sitting so close to him, Brooke took notice of his masculine scent. He smelled of the outdoors, like woods and trees and such. She had not gone around sniffing an abundance of gentlemen, but had been around enough to know not many naturally smelled this way. And she knew it had to be natural, not an oil mixed into his shaving water, his skin color and actions virtually screamed it.
During the half hour ride to the museum from the townhouse, Andrew talked with Mama and Madison, both of which asked him to use their Christian names. The two of them entertained him with stories of America and their friends and family back home. Meanwhile, she was entertaining herself with thoughts of the earl’s body, which was boldly pressing against hers again. Even through her gown and his breeches, the firm muscles in his thigh seared hers. She wondered what they would feel like if she ran her hand over them. She quickly admonished herself for the thoughts. However, she was powerless to tear her eyes from the object of her imagination. She looked at his thighs. They were practically bulging under his buckskin trousers, yet the seams were not ripping with every move like she thought they might.
She was pulled from her daydream by a light and well-placed tap on her foot. Startled, she looked up and met Madison’s knowing eyes. Madison didn’t say a word, but her face said a thousand. Brooke had just bee
n caught staring at the earl’s legs by her younger sister! She flushed with embarrassment.
Brooke looked at Mama. She clearly hadn’t noticed what Brooke had been staring at. A quick glance at Andrew’s face told her he had. Brooke quickly averted her eyes. She wasn’t going to let him get the better of her today.
For the rest of the carriage ride Brooke looked at either Mama or Madison, trying not to let her eyes connect with any part of Andrew.
The British Museum of Natural History looked magnificent, and so far all they had seen was just the outside. Walking inside, Brooke was overwhelmed. Dozens of people were milling around, going from one exhibit to another. Some artifacts were on display behind glass and others were just corded off with beautiful red velvet ropes.
The four of them looked at the exhibits together. They saw some old maps and compasses sailors had used centuries before. They looked at some ancient Greek drawings. Then they walked over to some legal documents several centuries old that were out on display. So much history was on display here, there was no way they would be able to see everything today. That just meant another visit was in order.
“If it would be agreeable with your chaperone, I would like to show you the sword room,” Andrew said, then waited for Mama to give her approval.
“Go on,” Mama urged. “Madison and I will be over here looking at these beautiful golden goblets. They are absolutely stunning, don’t you agree, Madison?”
Andrew led Brooke down the hall, around a corner, and into a room that had absolutely no swords in it. Instead, the room was completely empty except a statue in the back corner of the room.
“I thought we were going to look at swords,” Brooke said, walking across the room where a statue was positioned in the corner. Why would he bring her to a virtually empty room?