Does The Earl Love Me

by Jasmine Ashford

  All three men closed on the spot where, a fraction of a second ago, he had been.

  Where he would still have been, had the gangplank not been there.

  “Ahoy!” he shouted, from the deck, kicking away the plank. The captain advanced on him angrily, then, noticing the velvet jacket and the cotton shirt, stopped, considering he must be a nobleman.

  “Give my regards to your solicitor,” Leo shouted at the man on the shore, temporarily ignoring the waiting captain and sweeping a generous bow.

  The man, trapped on the shore, could only stare at him in impotent rage.

  “You have not heard the last of this, Leo Grey!” he shouted back. “You can try and run, but I have a long reach.”

  “Much good may it do you!” Leo grinned, and turned to the captain. “Ahoy, my fine fellow!” He wiped a hand through his sweat-stiffened gold curls. “I must apologize,” he added, sweeping a courtly bow that wouldn’t have been out of place in Whitehall Palace. “I was pursued by my assailants and needed the refuge of your ship.”

  “Well,” the captain began, blinking at this courtly apparition that had suddenly appeared on his ship.

  “You will receive recompense,” Leo added, and grinned winningly.

  “In that case...” The captain shrugged. “Welcome, my lord.”

  “Thank you, Captain!” Leo grinned. “May I ask your name? I do not believe we have met before.”

  “Captain Carwell, sir,” the captain said, and proffered a hand.

  “Leo Grey,” Leo said grandly and took the hand in his own, shaking it vigorously. “Earl of Harwood, for what that's worth,” he added, dismissively, and grinned his trademark grin again.

  “Oh,” the captain said, faintly, as if Leo had just announced that he could fly. “Welcome aboard, sir,” he added again, and swallowed hard.

  “Glad to hear it!” Leo said expansively. “I really needed your ship, right then.”

  Glancing back to the shore, where the man was reduced to a small figure on the quay, Leo suppressed a shudder. The captain, forgotten for the moment, retired to his cabin, shaking his head like a man with concussion.

  “What am I to do?” Leo, left momentarily alone, asked himself.

  The man on the shore was the Duke of Lennox. A nasty, ill-tempered man who held most of the power and wealth in his region. He was also, Leo reflected, known for his swordsmanship. The fact that Leo had just beaten him would not sit very well. The fact that he had scratched the duke would sit worse, as would the fact that Leo now had claim to a vast sum of money, won – whether fairly or unfairly, Leo grinned – at gambling with cards. The fact that the mighty Duke of Lennox was insulted and beaten, even if unfairly, would need to be avenged. If there was one thing Leo had heard about the Duke of Lennox, it was that he was a proud man. Proud, and a bad loser. What have I done?

  I cannot run. I cannot hide. And now, I cannot go back home.

  If he did, the duke would kill him. Leo had expected to return a little later, it was true, but he had been looking forward to it. There were so many people he wanted to see. Aunt Valeria, Uncle Ernst, their neighbors Roderick and Ada, and Cousin Alicia. He wondered how Alicia had grown up. His last memory of his cousin was of a mop of wild red hair, and wide green eyes.

  It would be nice to see them all again.

  “I shall go back,” Leo mused aloud, “I shall just have to disappear.”

  He was young. He had not been in England for five years, since childhood. He was an earl, but he was unknown.

  He would just have to go in disguise.

  CHAPTER THREE

  HIDING AT WILDING

  HIDING AT WILDING

  The moors around Wilding were bathed with sunset colors. The autumn weather had relented a moment, giving a day of chilled air and golden sunshine, scented with loam and the last roses.

  In the upstairs corridor at Wilding, the evening sun bathing the thick carpets, two voices drifted lightly on the air, issuing from the largest bedchamber.

  “The green drapery is so lovely.”

  “Thank you. Oh! You look stunning in that pink.”

  In the bedchamber, Alicia, her pale red hair a cloud of ringlets on her shoulders, emerged from a pastel-green muslin gown and reached for a pale yellow.

  Before her, a taller girl with cocoa-brown hair and heavy-lidded eyes grinned.

  “Thank you, my dear! But, look at that yellow. That is the one! It shows your eyes so.”

  Their excited voices filled the wide space, which was dominated by a canopied bed. The sound of their words was muted by the thick silken wallpaper – white, worked with a pattern of roses.

  The two young women looked at each other in the dressing-table mirror, an elaborate affair mounted in carved wooden posts. Their heads, dark and red, rested on one another's shoulders as they stood, arm in arm.

  “Oh, Henriette!” Alicia said, and hugged her friend in a spontaneous gesture of caring. “I am so glad you are here.”

  “I wouldn't miss your eighteenth birthday for anything!” Henriette, the taller girl, declared, stroking a hand down Alicia's silken curls.

  Henriette, Alicia's closest friend, had traveled down a week early for Alicia's birthday ball. Though she lived in Surrey with her father, Baron Browning, the two girls had met at eight years old when Henriette's father had traveled north for the hunting season.

  The two girls, a few months apart in age, were busy preparing for an evening party at Newgrange Park, the home of Alicia's betrothed – Roderick Drosty.

  “I am so glad you can help me choose a gown,” Alicia reflected, studying herself in the mirror, turning to let the skirt swirl. “You see all the fashions before we do up here.” She gestured impatiently at the wild moorland outside.

  “Well, that is one advantage of being closer to London, I suppose.” Henriette grinned wryly. “But the disadvantage is that Father drags me there for the season every year. I get sick of the city! It's full of unfriendly, stuck-up people who laugh at my accent.”

  Henriette sighed. The daughter of a fleeing French noblewoman and the baron who rescued her, Henriette had been raised speaking her mother's native French, which had left her with an exotic accent. Tall and slender with olive-dark skin and sloe eyes, Henriette was an angel-faced beauty who drew jealous eyes from women and lustful ones from men.

  Alicia shuddered, imagining how the envious and insecure society beauties would be cruel to her friend in any way they could.

  “They're just jealous witches,” she said, strongly.

  Henriette laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh, Alicia, you are shocking!”

  “I'm right!” Alicia said firmly. “But we should go,” she added, still laughing, “or we shall be late.”

  “Oh! you are right! It is almost seven of the clock. And we had better dress,” Henriette said, archly, making a sweeping hand gesture. They wore only their petticoats and silk slippers, their hair coming loose from its restraints.

  “Oh, hell! So we had.” Alicia swore, and they both went off into gales of laughter again, as they ran, still giggling, from the room and to the wardrobe.

  Half an hour later, they had managed to assemble themselves into decorous outfits and walked quickly downstairs. As they did, Alicia suddenly remembered she had forgotten her velvet handbag – in it, she had some sewing to show her mother.

  “Excuse me a moment,” she murmured, walking briskly up the stairs and to her bedchamber, shared now with Henriette for the duration of her visit.

  Alicia drifted up the top corridor, mind only half present. Then, suddenly, she stopped.

  “Who is there?” she called aloud.

  Nothing. Only the sound drifting up from the kitchen, three floors down, and, distantly, the clatter as a pot was dropped. But she was sure she had seen someone, crouched there in the shadows. It must have been a shadow. She was too fanciful. Then she stopped again. There was definitely something there.

  “Who is it?” she called. Now she was feeli
ng nervous. She had seen it. A small figure, stooped, as if they were trying to avoid the windows. Was it a burglar?

  Alicia was surprised to feel a surge of anger replace her fear. If someone had come in here to steal from her parents, she would make short work of them!

  “I am coming to find you!” she said, voice trembling. “If you don't come out now, I shall call Mr. Perry.”

  Nothing. The wind sighed outside. Somewhere, a horse walked over cobbles. No sound of human life reached her. She shivered.

  “I am going to find you!” she declared. Steeling herself, she marched forward into the corridor. She reached the room where she thought the specter had searched for shelter – a spare room, the furniture shrouded with pale sheets. There she paused. She swallowed, then stepped in through the doorway.

  Nothing.

  Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth.

  She whipped round, terrified. She wanted to scream, but the gaze, warm and mesmerizing, held her silent.

  “Alicia,” a rich, warm voice whispered, slightly wry and giddy with humor. It fizzed through her blood, making it effervesce like champagne. “Nice to meet you again.”

  She closed her eyes. Opened them. Her heart raced.

  “Leo?” she asked, muffled. Is it? Who else could it be? But why is he here, now?

  “Indeed,” he said, releasing her and bowing. “Lord Leo Grey, at your service, Madam.”

  “Leo!” Alicia breathed. She stepped forward and embraced him. There were so many questions flooding her mind. Her parents would want to know he was here, surely? She shelved the questions, losing them in the wonder of seeing him again.

  “Now,” Leo said, extricating himself lightly from her embrace, “I am afraid we shall have to be quiet. I am a fugitive.”

  “Leo? What—”

  “Hush!”

  The look on his face was pained, and so Alicia stepped back, trying to be silent.

  “Do, please, try to keep your voice down,” Leo pleaded.

  Alicia nodded. She stepped toward the door, looking to see if anyone had seen him, and shut it. She would, in that moment, do anything. Her heart soared. If he had some secret difficulties, she would not press him to tell her. She only wanted to assist him.

  “If you are hiding,” she asked, green eyes wide, “can I help you?”

  “I just asked you not to speak!” he said, crossly. Then he paused, thinking. “But, it turns out I could do with some help.”

  Alicia blinked. Had he really just asked her for help? The thought of that was overwhelming. Leo had been her childhood hero, and the new, grown-up Leo was just as appealing, if not more so.

  “I...” she stammered, and stopped, feeling a sudden strength grow inside her, grounding her. “Of course, I will help,” she declared firmly. “I will do anything to help you.” She meant it.

  “Well,” he began, “I really could do with a low profile for a while. I don't want anyone – not anyone – to know I am here. And hiding in your own house is difficult, especially when it's full of people.”

  “Why are you hiding?” Alicia asked, eyes round.

  Leo closed his eyes, looking pained. “I thought I asked you to be silent. But, as it happens, I am hiding from the Duke of Lennox. Do you know about him?”

  Alicia bit her lip. She had heard of the Duke of Lennox – tall, dark and dangerous, he was known for three things: his skill at cards, his swordsmanship, and his temper. The thought of anyone having sufficiently bad luck to be running from him was frightening.

  She wanted to ask so many questions – what was the fight about? Why was he hiding? What had happened, and when did it all happen, and how, but she remembered his need for silence.

  “I do know of him,” she replied briefly.

  “Good,” Leo whispered back. “So, you understand I am desperate. I need to hide, and I need to hide well.”

  Alicia looked very serious, then brightened. “I have the perfect idea!”

  Beside her, Leo shuddered visibly. “Voice? Down? Please.”

  “Oh.” Alicia blinked. “Sorry. Right, then. This is what we will do...” As she talked, she studied Leo covertly. Taller than he had been by far, with his chest filled out with muscle and his features matured and strengthened, he was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. Her admiration of him as a child was broadened by the second, growing into a tingling sense of delight in his presence.

  After a few minutes, the plan was laid out, and Alicia ran lightly down the stairs, praying her secret would remain unrevealed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  EVENING PARTY

  EVENING PARTY

  The carriage rolled up the drive at Newgrange Park, crunching on the gravel. It was late at night, and Alicia and Henriette, wrapped in their evening shawls, watched through the windows as they approached the mansion.

  “Ooh...look at the lights!” Alicia breathed.

  The torches had been lit outside Newgrange, and the flames tore in the breeze, sending dancing flame-light across the front of the building.

  “It is beautiful,” Henriette agreed.

  Despite herself, Alicia felt a frisson of excitement as the carriage drew up and halted, wheels crunching on the gravel.

  The coachman helped them down, and the girls stood and looked up at the tall, imposing house.

  “It is newer than Wilding,” Henriette said.

  “Yes,” Alicia agreed. “Roderick's great-grandfather had it built. He had some investments in mining.”

  Henriette nodded, eyes wide. Tall and whitewashed, with towering gables and at least three stories, Newgrange Park spoke of recent wealth in the way Wilding spoke of an ancient lineage.

  “Shall we go in?”

  “Yes!”

  The two girls, giggling, drifted up the shallow marble steps, pausing to let Alicia's parents catch up. Then they crossed through the great double doors and into the entrance hall.

  Candles. That was the first thing Alicia, swallowing with excitement, noticed. The room was so bright she had to blink. As a servant took her shawl, she noticed herself in the mirror opposite. Her own reflection made her stare a moment. Delicate features stared out at her, her emerald eyes seeming huge. She was pleased she had settled on mint-green muslin, which perfectly complemented her eyes and red hair. Her hair was dressed elaborately, ringlets framing her face, decorated with a green riband.

  She turned to look at Henriette, coming into the room behind her. Resplendent in lemon yellow, her friend was a column of elegance, her dark hair also ringleted, and held back from her face with a chain of pearls.

  As they walked together into the ballroom slowly, feeling impossibly sophisticated, Alicia grinned to notice several heads already turn to look at Henriette, and some, she was surprised to note, at her.

  “Good evening, Lady Alicia.”

  “Good evening, Lord Darbyshire.” Alicia smiled at the Earl of Darbyshire, who stood at the door to greet the guests.

  “Good evening, Miss Lacey,” he said to Henriette, who curtseyed deeply. Alicia had already moved on to greet the next host.

  “Good evening, Roderick,” Alicia said gravely, and curtseyed to the auburn-haired, serious young man who stood beside his father. She looked up at him, staring into his dark-brown eyes.

  “Lady Alicia,” Roderick said quietly, kissing her hand.

  As she passed on into the ballroom, Alicia felt her head whirl. Was this really happening? Here she was, at a ball with her betrothed, while she was hiding another man – a fugitive – in her own home? It was insane! How had she ever agreed to this?

  “Calm down, Alicia,” she whispered to herself.

  “What is it, my dear?” Henriette asked, appearing suddenly beside her.

  “Oh, nothing, dear Henriette,” Alicia said, impulsively linking arms with her. “I was just amazed by all the candles! Are they not wonderful?”

  Inside, her heart was pounding. Where is Leo now? Is he hidden? What if the servants find him?

  “Ah,
listen!” Henriette said, placing a hand on her chest dramatically. “The music!”

  A string quartet began to play a sarabande, a slow dance. Alicia, who loved music, shut her eyes, allowing the melody to calm her.

  “Lady Alicia?”

  “Lord Roderick,” Alicia said, mildly surprised. “You startled me! I thought you were welcoming the guests?”

  “My apologies, my lady,” he said at once. “I am excused from my duties for the moment. I trust you can forgive me for startling you so?”

  “Of course!” Alicia said impulsively.

  She was surprised to see a hint of a smile on his face. He was always so grave! That she could make him smile was a pleasant surprise.

  “May I have this dance?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Alicia said again, though this time more reservedly. I don't want to dance with you. I want to dance with another man. She could not help thinking it, wondering what it would be like to dance with Leo. Roderick led her onto the dancefloor, and together they began the intricate series of cross-overs, turns and steps, but she could not help comparing him to Leo instead.

  I imagine Leo is a good dancer. She smiled.

  “What are you thinking of, milady? If I may ask...” Roderick began. The dance moved them apart at that moment, requiring Alicia to take the hand of a grave military captain while Roderick partnered the man’s wife.

  When they regained a side-by-side position, Alicia had thought of a reply.

  “I was simply enjoying the music. You know how I like music?”

  “Yes.”

  As they moved apart again, Alicia could not help a frown. Roderick's personality was just like he danced. Solid, correct, but lacking in imagination and passion.

  They walked through their moves, to the middle, where Roderick lightly supported Alicia through some complex turns.

  At the end of the dance, he bowed.

  “Thank you, milady.”

  “Thank you, Lord Roderick.” She curtseyed. “I look forward to seeing you at my ball next week.”