As an Earl Desires

by Lorraine Heath

  Her voice held sincerity, which Arch thought Lydia most likely appreciated. For much of the Season, the ladies had been at odds with each other, both vying for attention from the duke. Lydia had won out, and he thought Camilla was being a rather good sport about it now. He wasn't quite certain why the Duke of Harrington hadn't been concerned about acquiring an heir when he'd initially become betrothed to Camilla, but it was no longer important. What mattered was that the duke and his wife were madly in love, and it was apparent with each gaze they gave each other.

  A few more pleasantries were exchanged before Camilla offered to help Lydia select the proper attire for her first country luncheon. Rhys stared after them as they headed for the stairs and once they were out of sight, he turned to Arch. "What have you done to the countess?"

  "I beg your pardon?"

  Rhys angled his head thoughtfully. "Camilla has always possessed a… a selfishness, a brittleness. She's never, not as long as I've known her, been this pleasant."

  Arch smiled with satisfaction. "All I can say, then, Your Grace, is that you never really knew her."

  As the first day melded into the second, Arch was fairly certain that the same couldn't be said of the Duke of Kingsbridge. He was indeed coming to know Camilla. He seemed to have her undying devotion. He wasn't certain how she managed always to sit near the duke during meals. He was certain Debrett's wouldn't have put them together. They took strolls through the gardens, and when Arch would ask a lady to go on a walk with him so he could follow closely behind, he would hear Camilla's joyful laughter echoing around him.

  Games of badminton and croquet provided entertainment in the afternoons. Luncheons and dinners were extravagantly prepared meals. The guests' stay would end with a grand ball Friday evening, with everyone departing Saturday. It couldn't come soon enough as far as he was concerned.

  No time for a hunt this go-round, for which he was immensely grateful.

  The Duke of Kingsbridge and his daughter came down for breakfast shortly after Camilla and Archie had sat at the table. Their other guests had yet to appear, which wasn't uncommon. Camilla would order that the food remain on the side table for many hours, so everyone could awaken at their leisure.

  "I say, Sachse, have you a yacht?" Kingsbridge asked.

  Archie cast a quick glance at Camilla before saying, "Not that I know of, no."

  "A pity, a pity. They're a good deal of fun."

  "But extremely expensive to keep, Papa," Lady Alice said.

  Camilla didn't remember Lady Alice looking quite so young.

  "Too true, my dear, too true. Still, if you go to Cowes, let me know. I'll lend you my yacht."

  "That's very kind of you, Your Grace," Camilla said.

  Winking at her, he lifted his glass, and she was reminded of the last time that a gentleman had winked at her across the table. She peered over at Archie and could tell from his half smile that he was remembering as well. It was a special moment, shared by only the two of them, and she thought it would be marvelous to have shared memories that were special with someone else that could be quietly remembered as this one was.

  "Have you met the Prince of Wales, Sachse?" Kingsbridge asked.

  "No, I haven't," Archie said.

  "A shame that. He's a fine yachtsman. Has a beautiful ship."

  "We always go to Cowes after the Season," Lady Alice explained. "Papa tends to go on and on about it until he gets it out of his blood."

  "I've never been to the seaside," Archie said.

  Lady Alice smiled sweetly. "You must go sometime. I love the seaside."

  Camilla didn't like thinking that this girl might acquaint Archie with the seaside as she'd acquainted him with London. That Lady Alice would see the sparkle in his eyes as he experienced new things, discovered the wonders of the sea.

  "I'm not sure how well I would fare near the sea," Archie said. "I don't swim."

  "Neither do I," Lady Alice said, laughing lightly. "But it's still enjoyable to walk along the shore. Have you gone to the seaside, Lady Sachse?"

  "No, I always thought the sand would be a bit of a nuisance."

  "You're quite right, my girl, it could be." The duke leaned back and patted his stomach. "Marvelous food, marvelous."

  He was trim for a man of fifty, but not nearly as trim as Archie. She'd always considered taking a man to her bed as something to be endured. Having experienced it now as something to be enjoyed, she wondered how she would ever endure it again. Although with the duke possibly there would be pleasure as well. After all, his wife had loved him.

  "I thought we might go for a ride in the carriage this afternoon," Camilla offered. "It's a nice day. We could use the brougham."

  "Capital idea," the duke said.

  "I'd rather go riding. Have you horses?" Lady Alice asked.

  Before Camilla could comment, Archie said,

  "Yes, we do. And I'd be more than happy to join you."

  Camilla joined Archie at the stables, where he was waiting for the carriage to be readied as well as two riding horses.

  "I didn't know you rode," she said.

  "I was raised in the country. Of course I ride," he said, without looking at her.

  "I would have preferred for us all to go in the carriage."

  "So I could continue to have my shortcomings announced to the world?"

  "Whatever are you talking about?"

  "Let's see… I've never met the Prince of Wales. I've never been to the seaside. I don't own a yacht. No telling what else will be discovered during a ride in the brougham."

  "The duke was only making conversation."

  "No, my lady, he was trying to impress you." He shifted his gaze over to her, and she was taken off guard by the hardness in his eyes. "And he was doing a damned fine job of it."

  "I was hardly impressed. I've dined with the Prince and Princess of Wales. And I mentioned that I wasn't fond of the sea."

  He tugged on his gloves, and she thought he did it only to give himself something to concentrate on, because they looked fine as they were.

  "I'm not comparing him to you," she said softly.

  "Because there is no comparison to be made. He is a duke. I am but an earl. And rank is what you value."

  She turned away so he wouldn't see the truth in her eyes. Before she'd come truly to know him, before she'd learned to read, she'd valued rank above all else… but now? Now she wasn't so certain… but it hardly mattered.

  She forced herself to smile. "Here come our guests. So be charming, Archie. She is a lovely lady."

  "I shall charm her until there is no more charming to be done."

  He began to walk past her, and she reached out, grabbing his arm and stopping him. "Simply be yourself, Archie. That is all you need for her to fall madly in love with you."

  She thought she saw pain cross his features. "This is not the way that I would have gone about finding a wife." He leaned toward her, lowering his voice until she almost couldn't hear him. "You would have known that had you been in a position to read my letter."

  He straightened and smiled. "Lady Alice, we have the horses ready. I thought we'd follow along behind the brougham, so your father need not doubt my intentions."

  "That's a capital idea, Sachse," the duke said, chuckling. "You keep an eye on me, while I keep one on you."

  Camilla was beginning to think that her capital idea wasn't so capital after all. She'd never had a jealous lover. She'd never had a lover at all. Never had anyone jealous. To have both was exhilarating and bothersome. She didn't want to hurt Archie's feelings, but the purpose in having guests was so they could determine possibilities.

  She allowed the footman to help her into the brougham. The duke climbed in and sat opposite her. She glanced over and saw that Lady Alice was already mounted. Smiling and confident.

  "Come, Lord Sachse, I'll race you to the main road." With a laugh, she set her horse galloping, Archie quickly in pursuit.

  "Ah, to be young, eh?" the duke said. "Driver, let's
not let them get too far ahead, shall we?"

  With a lurch, the carriage started forward. Camilla stared in the distance, but the riders were already becoming mere shadows.

  "What if she won't have him?" the duke asked.

  Camilla jerked her attention to Kingsbridge. "Pardon?"

  "What if my Alice has no interest in your earl?"

  Her earl. Yes, he was her earl, but she couldn't claim him as such. "Then your daughter is a fool."

  And she was beginning to wonder if perhaps she was as well.

  * * *

  Chapter 18

  Arch hated it. Hated the way the young available ladies were being put on show this evening following dinner.

  Some played the piano. Some recited poetry with exaggerated drama.

  Presently Lady Alice was singing, while her father stood behind the chair in which Camilla sat, his hands resting on her shoulders as though to stake his claim and say, She is mine.

  Arch hated that even more.

  When the song came to an end, everyone applauded. Camilla most enthusiastically. "That was marvelous, Lady Alice. You have the voice of a nightingale." Camilla looked over at Arch, an expression in her eyes that seemed to say: What do you think? Do you agree? The voice of a nightingale? Is she the one? Will she do?

  Had singing been one of his requirements?

  He looked away because he didn't want to provide an answer, didn't want to see the duke bending down to whisper something in Camilla's ear. But even without looking, he could hear her laughter. Every woman in this room could be laughing hysterically, and still he would be able to home in on hers. He knew its sound by heart. The way it tinkled softly, then deepened as her joy increased.

  He'd enjoyed his morning ride with Lady Alice the way one enjoyed a pleasant cup of tea in the afternoon. A respite from the grind of responsibilities, but not anticipated before it was placed before him, nor missed once taken away. His assessment seemed cruel. She was a delightful woman, pleasant enough… but there was nothing about her that intrigued him, that made him want to dig more deeply, discover all the aspects to her.

  He was aware of movements, murmurings. He turned his attention back to the gathering.

  Beside him the Duke of Harrington said quietly, "People are going for a nightly stroll before bed. Kingsbridge and Camilla have already gone out to lead the way."

  "I suppose I shall be expected to select a lady to accompany me."

  "I will offer you my wife, if you like."

  He breathed a sigh of relief. "Her company would be more than welcome."

  He'd not noticed that Lydia was standing beside the duke. He extended his arm toward her, and she took her place beside him.

  It wasn't until they were outside in the lit gardens that she said, "I am amazed by all that must be done to keep people entertained."

  "You'll do a splendid job once you decide to have company."

  "Kingsbridge seems rather taken with Lady Sachse."

  "Indeed he does."

  "As do you."

  "But she is not for me, Duchess."

  "Who is? "

  "I don't know."

  And that was the truth of it. No one stirred him as Camilla did. Even the lovely lady walking beside him hadn't drawn as much interest from him. And he couldn't deny that she was a delight. Although he also suspected that she didn't find him as intriguing as she found Harrington.

  "Have you considered courting an American lady?" she asked.

  "I need someone well versed in the ways of the aristocracy, as it is too foreign to me. I would forever be putting a step wrong without a lady beside me to keep my feet on the right path."

  "Lady Sachse has always struck me as being rather ambitious."

  "She has the drive and determination to be so."

  "You admire her?"

  "Very much so. There are aspects to her that are contradictory, and yet they somehow belong to her in a way that is refreshing." He chuckled. "I am speaking in circles that make no sense. I will be glad when our company departs." He patted her arm. "Present company excluded."

  "I've not known you long, but I do think you'll make some woman very happy."

  Ah, yes, he thought he could manage that. The question was: Would she do the same for him?

  As Frannie guided the brush through her hair time and again, Camilla studied her reflection in the mirror and tried to determine exactly what was different about her, because surely something had to have changed on the outside for her to have gained the attention of the Duke of Kingsbridge. She thought that perhaps she looked a bit younger—no doubt from the skating she and Archie did. Her mouth didn't seem as hard, nor did her eyes.

  "Is something amiss, my lady?" Frannie asked.

  "Do I seem different to you?"

  "You seem… happier."

  "Happier? Yes, I suppose I am."

  She had to credit Archie with a good deal of that happiness. He took her mind off her struggles, made learning fun. She enjoyed spending time with him. What a shame he wasn't a duke. What a shame she was barren.

  The Duke of Kingsbridge was a nice gentleman, and she enjoyed spending time in his company. He made her smile, on occasion he'd even made her laugh a time or two. But she knew he'd never make her heart flutter or her skin tingle or her soul sing.

  What a lot of romantic rubbish. She'd definitely spent too much time with Archie. He had her believing in impossibilities.

  As though summoned by her thoughts of him, he was suddenly standing in her room. She'd not heard the door open, but apparently Frannie had because she'd ceased brushing and was staring at Archie as though he were a demon raised out of hell.

  Considering the uncustomary way his features were arranged in harsh lines, Camilla could hardly blame Frannie for her surprise.

  "Leave us," he ordered, in a voice that would brook no arguments.

  Frannie hurried from the room, and Archie closed the door in her wake. Camilla rose. "Archie—"

  Before she could properly chastise him for barging into her bedchamber unannounced and with a servant still present, he'd closed the distance between them, taken her into his arms, and planted his mouth against hers. He displayed none of his usual tenderness, but seemed to be a man in desperation of possessing her.

  Beneath her fingers, his body was tense with need. A time existed when she would have been terrified, but now all she wanted was the fulfillment that he could provide. She'd spent the majority of her day flirting with another man while Archie had never been far from her mind. She'd seen him walking with another woman and been sorely tempted to scratch out her eyes.

  It hurt, it hurt, it hurt to know that he'd so easily found interest in another. And yet here he was, his mouth hot against hers, his hands running over her body as though he'd forgotten what every dip and curve felt like and was anxious to renew the acquaintance.

  She heard material rip and didn't care. Time for caring would come later. All she wanted was his flesh against hers. He lifted her into his arms, crossed the room, and unceremoniously dumped her onto the bed.

  So unlike his usual behavior. And when she looked into his face, she did know a moment's hesitation, a spark of fear. She'd never seen such a feral expression on his handsome countenance. His eyes were heated, his breathing harsh, his mouth set in the firm line of a warrior. He tore off his clothes as though they were the enemy intent on strangling him.

  Then he blanketed her body with his and buried himself within her with a long, sure thrust that had her crying out—not because she wasn't ready, but because she'd wanted him inside her as desperately as he'd wanted to be there. He pumped hard, fast, and furious. She kept pace, digging her fingers into his buttocks, holding him tightly as the blood roared through her as she knew it had to be roaring through him. .

  It was madness, insanity, and yet she was powerless not to give in to this animalistic mating that was so uncharacteristic of what she'd come to expect from him. And yet, she found it exciting, when she thought she should
have found it frightening.

  But this was Archie, her dear, dear Archie, who would never harm her, never think less of her no matter what secrets she shared.

  The pleasure mounted more quickly and with more intensity than she'd ever experienced. They cried out in unison, arching, gasping, shuddering, clinging.

  She fought back the tears as she lay beneath him with tiny tremors cascading through her, while the weight of his body pressed down on her, his harsh breathing filled her ear, his face nestled at the curve of her neck.

  "Satisfied?" she asked.

  "No," he growled, and came off her as though he'd been shot from a cannon.

  Drawing a blanket over her, she watched as he prowled beside the bed, repeatedly dragging his hands through his hair, his breathing still harsh, his eyes feral.

  "Archie, whatever is wrong?"

  He came to an abrupt halt and glared at her. "I don't like seeing you with Kingsbridge."

  "So you thought you could come into my bedchamber and possess me like some barbarian?"

  He flinched. "Did I hurt you?"

  His voice was rough-edged, and she thought nothing he ever did would hurt her as much as she knew she would have to hurt him. Slowly she shook her head. "No."

  He wrapped a hand around the bedpost and leaned against it as though he needed the support to keep himself upright. "I love you, Camilla. You cannot imagine how I feel when I see you laughing with another man, looking at him as though he could hand you the world."

  "I like the Duke of Kingsbridge."

  "So I could see. I felt as though a sword had been run through my heart."

  Tears stung her eyes. She rose up onto her knees. "I love you, Archie."

  "Then marry me."

  The heartfelt plea was nearly her undoing, but she forced herself to remain steadfast and strong for both of them. "I can't give you an heir."

  He sat on the edge of the bed and tenderly cradled her face with his palm. "Then I won't have an heir."

  "So you'll shove the responsibility that comes with your title onto Winston?"

  "I never asked for this damned title. Why must I sacrifice my happiness for something I never wanted?"