Enticing the Earl

by Christie Kelley

  “He’s very concerned that no one seems to know Davies. He believes Miss Featherstone may have been a pawn in a bigger plan.”

  “What plan?”

  Simon put the brush down and leaned against the stable wall. “I have no idea. Mr. Tanner thinks Davies was using her to get information on me.”

  “For what purpose? You act far more the country squire than a fashionable lord of the realm. Is someone trying to extort money from you?”

  Simon laughed harshly. “I wish them luck with that.”

  North stilled his brush on the horse. “What do you mean?”

  Simon hadn’t told anyone what had happened last year with his steward. “I discovered my former steward had been giving himself a rather large bonus the past two years.”

  “Dammit, Hart. Why didn’t you tell me? I know how much you hate doing the books but I would have been happy to help you.”

  “You haven’t been here. Until a few months ago, you wouldn’t step foot on your estate or even enter the county.”

  North blew out a long breath. “You’re right. I have not been a good friend to you. I am sorry for that. How bad is it?”

  “Very bad. Mother insists I attend Caroline’s country party to search for a wealthy bride.”

  “Perhaps she has the right idea,” North said quietly.

  “It’s a little too late for that,” Simon commented.

  “How so?”

  “I proposed to Miss Featherstone this afternoon.” Simon waited for the blast of anger from his friend. He knew proposing to Mia was a foolish idea considering his financial outlook. But he wasn’t about to ask her to become his mistress. She deserved far better than that.

  “I can only assume she accepted.” North’s calm demeanor seemed at odds with his stiff jaw.

  “Not completely.”

  “Not completely? What the bloody hell does that mean?” Finally, the anger had risen to the surface. “A woman like her will not help you with your finances. In fact, she might damage them completely. How do you know she won’t take herself off to London and gamble what little money you have away? How do you know she won’t run off with some man who catches her fancy? My God, man, you found her half-dead from her last lover.”

  Hearing a feminine gasp, Simon glanced past North to where Mia stood, holding the stable door for support. Her pale face told him she had heard all of North’s rants. Instead of running away, she stepped into the barn as North turned to face her.

  “Your Grace, if you are done impugning my reputation, I will tell you that I am not a gambler. I don’t fancy myself a spendthrift nor am I a harlot. I had no idea the earl was in financial straits and since I do know, my lord, you may rescind your offer of marriage if you would like. I would understand and hold no ill will toward you.”

  Simon smiled at the grace she had while bringing North down a peg. “My offer of marriage still stands.”

  “Thank you, my lord. If you need any assistance with your books, I am quite good with figures.”

  “Miss Featherstone, please accept my apology,” North said stiffly. “I was only—”

  “Watching out for a friend. I understand that completely, Your Grace. After all, I questioned Selina’s sanity when she accepted you as her lover and then as her husband. I suppose it’s only fair that you do the same.” She took a long breath in. “I believe the walk out here has tired me. Good day, gentlemen.”

  As she walked away, Simon shot North a stone-cold glare. “Don’t ever say another bad word about her.” He turned away. “Miss Featherstone, I shall escort you to the house.”

  Behind him, he heard North chuckle.

  Mia’s cheeks still felt heated from her exchange with the duke. Arrogant bastard. She had no idea how Selina could tolerate the man. She slid a glance to the man beside her and her heart swelled. Hart had defended her to his best friend. Her eyes welled with tears.

  “I am sorry you had to hear that,” Hart said as they reached the house.

  “As I told him, I understand his reasoning.”

  “But... ?”

  Mia smiled. “But he is wrong. I just don’t know how to prove it to you,” she added wistfully. They walked inside and he led her to the salon. Slowly, she lowered herself to the emerald velvet chair by the fireplace. She winced as a shard of pain sliced her rib again.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, it felt quite good to get out of bed. I was hoping to dine with you tonight.”

  “I would like that.” He took the seat across from her.

  “I also wanted to apologize again for my actions.” She stared down at her hands. “After hearing the duke’s words, I feel even more like a strumpet for criticizing your kiss.”

  Hart rose from his chair and then gently eased her to a standing position. “If my betrothed would like another kiss, all she has to do is ask.”

  Mia’s lips parted but before she could ask, his lips were on hers. This time, it was anything but tame. His tongue took full advantage of her parted lips and forced her mouth to open for him. As he kissed her, she wanted to put her arms around him but the bindings on her ribs kept her from doing that. Instead, she clung to the lapels of his jacket as the heat of his kiss scorched her.

  Her heart pounded against her chest and the urge to rub her hips against his became almost too much to bear. Moisture pooled between her folds as she wondered how his mouth would feel on her breasts. He might be a gentleman, but he kissed like a rake.

  Slowly, he lifted his head up and stared down at her. His gray eyes were filled with desire for her. She trembled from the passion he brought out in her. She had never felt anything like it with either of the men she’d been with and suddenly wished her monthlies would come quickly. She wasn’t terribly worried about being with child. Her mother had taught her how to prevent conception but it wasn’t foolproof and until she knew for certain, she couldn’t be with Hart. No matter how much she might desire it.

  Who was this man? She thought she’d known him as a kindhearted man who would protect her and she could come to love slowly. But that heated kiss had shown her a different side of Hart. He might be kindhearted but he was a man who knew how to kiss a woman with enough passion to make her knees weak.

  She had never expected to react to his kisses with such intensity. She took a step away from him needing to put a little distance between them.

  “What’s wrong, Mia?”

  “Nothing,” she said and turned away from him. She strolled toward the window and looked out at the rolling pastures of his estate. Was she truly a strumpet? A woman who could be with any man and feel desire? She had enjoyed her time with Paul, but it was never as passionate as one kiss from the earl. With Allan, it had never been right, which was why she had tried to break it off with him the day he beat her. That was when he became so incensed and demanded to know about the few pieces of gold she’d found. She should have never mentioned the gold to him.

  “Mia?” He came up behind her. His warm breath tickled the back of her neck.

  “Yes?” She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and press her against his hard chest. Protect her.

  “I apologize for being so forward with that kiss. I should have been gentler.” He sighed. “Apparently, I am incapable of going slowly with you. So I am sorry.”

  “I’m not,” she whispered.

  “You’re not what?”

  “Sorry or accepting your apology. I wanted to know if being married to you would be difficult as we became intimate.”

  “And will it be difficult?”

  She leaned her head against the window. “I don’t believe it shall be the least bit difficult.” Frightening, perhaps, to put her trust in a man built like a blacksmith. But if he was as kind as she believed, the intimate details of marriage would be most pleasant.

  He drew a few tendrils of hair away from her neck. “Good,” he whispered and then leaned in to kiss the length of her neck.

  Shivers ran through her as his lips touched
her. Truly, things were moving far too fast. She had only been here a few days. “Simon?”

  He pulled abruptly. “Simon? I have never heard you call me by my Christian name.”

  “I apologize,” she said quickly.

  “I am not. I far prefer you calling me Simon than Hart. My friends call me Hart. I want my betrothed to call me Simon.”

  She smiled. “I am not your betrothed just yet.”

  “But soon.”

  “Yes. I believe I shall retire until dinner. Being out of bed has tired me more than I realized. When do you think we might begin my training?”

  Confusion crossed his face, causing his brown brows to furrow. “Training?”

  “On defending myself.”

  “Of course, not until you are well healed.”

  Mia frowned this time. “I would prefer to start sooner rather than later.”

  He nodded. “Of course, I understand. We shall begin training with pistols tomorrow if you are up to it.”

  She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.”

  No man would ever attempt to hurt her again. If they did, she would be prepared to take action and would have no regrets.

  Chapter 7

  The next few days started to follow a pattern. Simon would eat breakfast with Mia in the morning room, followed by an hour alone in his study of struggling with the estate books. He still hadn’t taken up her offer of looking over the books. Surely, a woman with no formal education could only muck up the numbers worse than him. After the estate business was finished, they would proceed outside to practice with the pistols.

  Today was no different. Mia met him out in the field where they had a large target ready to aim at and two Manton pistols lay on a small table. Simon’s heart rushed when he noticed her walking toward him. Her brown muslin dress matched her eyes and made him smile.

  She stared down at the pistols and bit her lip. “Are you really going to make me load one today?”

  Simon laughed. She was an excellent shot, but for some reason balked at the idea of readying the gun for firing. “You must learn to do this or what is the sense of this training. A gun is useless if you can’t fire it.”

  “I know,” she said with a sigh. “I just can’t remember all the steps.”

  He looked away from her for a long moment trying to determine another way to approach this. After a minute he said, “Do you make some of your own preparations for medicinal purposes?”

  “Of course. My mother and I make several potions.”

  “This is no different. Pick up a pistol.” He waited until she had one in her hand. “Now, just like a recipe, there are several steps. Measure out the powder into the small cup and then into the barrel.”

  “Very well.” She took the flask of black powder and put a small amount in the cup, then loaded the barrel. “Next?”

  He blinked. “You really don’t remember?”

  She tilted her head and looked up at him. “Would I have said next if I remembered?”

  “I suppose not. Put in the paper and then the ball.” He sighed as she slowly placed the paper and then ball into the barrel. “Now use the ram in the barrel.”

  She used the ram several times. “Good?”

  “Yes” He proceeded telling her the next few steps of getting the pistol ready to fire. “Now pull the cock.” Damn, that sounded very wrong.

  She readied the pistol and then aimed down the field. She pulled the trigger and smoke filled the air. “I hate this,” she said, waving the smoke away from her face.

  “Yes, but you did hit the target.”

  “But in the amount of time it took me to load the pistol, I could have been abducted, raped, and murdered.”

  He tried not to laugh but failed dreadfully. “I’m sorry.”

  She carefully placed the pistol on the table and then crossed her arms over her chest. “This is pointless. I need a better way to defend myself.”

  She was right about that. Even a small pistol would take her too long to load in an emergency. And carrying a loaded pistol was far too dangerous. “How about we try knives?”

  Her eyes widened. “That has promise. How difficult is it?”

  “That all depends on your aim. It’s quite different from firing a pistol.”

  “I did throw a knife at Davies and hit him in the shoulder. I didn’t manage to stop him, only delay him for a moment while he removed it.”

  “Even a delay can help you get away in a situation like that,” Simon said. He hated thinking about what she had gone through that day. It had been almost a week since he’d found her battered. Her bruises were starting to fade but she would carry the internal scars for years.

  “Where did you learn about all of this?”

  “My father, mostly. My brothers and I taught ourselves how to throw for fun. We would go off into the woods and try to kill a few trees.” He chuckled. “The trees usually lived. I do have a nice scar on my leg from a time where Charlie missed completely.”

  “I remember that. My mother was terribly worried about that slash. It was quite deep if I remember.”

  “Hurt like h—never mind. Charlie felt awful about the whole thing.”

  “You are lucky you didn’t end up with a limp.” She stared at his thigh, which only made his usual lascivious thoughts start.

  He had to concentrate on what they were there for... her safety. “Tomorrow we shall try the knives and see if that works better for you. How are your ribs feeling now?”

  “Much better, thank you. Hopefully, we can start the other training soon.”

  Other training? What other training was she... oh, the physical training of how to ward off a man. That would involve him coming up from behind her, holding her against him. The images in his mind changed from platonic to erotic in a flash. He suddenly could only think about coming up behind her and entering her softness. Feeling her moisture pool around his hard shaft as he drove himself in deeply.

  “Simon?”

  Hearing her voice roused him from his thoughts. “Sorry, I was woolgathering.”

  “About your books again? I have told you, I am very good with numbers. Let me help you.”

  “Thank you, Mia, but I can handle the estate. As far as the other training, I will need to speak with your mother to determine if you are healthy enough for the physical challenges.”

  “I know better than my mother if I am ready,” she said petulantly. “But of course you will need to hear it from her. I’m sure she will be back this afternoon.” She walked away without another word.

  “Mia, wait for me,” he said, running to catch up to her. “I am sorry if I upset you.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “About what?”

  “What it’s like being her daughter. I know just as much as she does about herbs and healing yet every person on this estate defers to her. My sister doesn’t go through this at Middleton’s estate. Tia is the wise woman there, while I am just the apprentice.” She fisted her hands tightly. “It makes me so angry.”

  “Why?”

  “Tia doesn’t even want to be a wise woman. That’s part of the reason why she ran off to London. It wasn’t just to chase after Mr. Tavers.”

  Simon knew Miss Tia Featherstone had left Middleton Hall only a few weeks ago. The assumption had been that she was chasing the viscount’s younger brother. Was there more to her departure than just an infatuation? “Why else did she leave?”

  “She wanted to see the world, or at least England,” she replied bitterly. “After she left, I told my mother I would go stay at Tia’s cottage and care for Middleton’s tenants. My mother told me not to leave here. That she could handle both estates.” Mia brushed a tear away.

  “Mia, I’m sorry. I had no idea. Do you think there might have been a reason she didn’t want you to leave?”

  “Of course, she doesn’t think I can handle being a wise woman. I am not good enough at it.”

  “That’s absurd. I’ve seen your wo
rk. You are excellent both as a healer and with the way you handle your patients. I can’t believe your mother would think you inferior.”

  She shook her head. “Do you have another explanation?”

  They approached the house so he put his hand on her to stop her. There was no reason the servants needed to hear this conversation. “Perhaps your mother felt it was more important that you stay here and continue to build your relationship with my tenants. Once your mother decides to retire, you will be the only one handling the sick here.”

  “Then she should have gone to Middleton Hall herself.”

  Seeing the anguish in her soulful brown eyes was killing him. He wanted to comfort her, but Simon couldn’t deny that there was something wrong here. Was it possible her mother was involved with the Allan Davies affair? Could she have known Davies was a man who beat women and thought Mia would be safer here where Simon could protect her? He would speak with her in private on this matter. “Perhaps you are right. Have you ever asked your mother outright why she didn’t want you to go to Middleton Hall?”

  She looked down at the ground and bit her lower lip. “I saw no point. She wouldn’t tell me the truth. For whatever reason, she doesn’t believe I can understand her reasons.”

  “Maybe you should try. There might be a logical reason for her actions.” Though Simon had to admit, he saw none. Mia was a fine healer.

  “Thank you,” she whispered and looked up at him.

  He could stare at her for hours. Her oval face that seemed to be taken over with her large brown eyes. Her lips were perfect for kissing, not too thin and not too full. And a perfect rosy color like her cheeks. Her long eyelashes swept away the last vestiges of her tears. Even with her eye still bruised, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed her lips gently.

  She backed away quickly. “Hart, someone might see us.”

  “We are practically engaged, Mia. Besides, the servants won’t talk.”

  She laughed. “Of course they will. Only they will do their best to make sure you don’t find out.”