Intentions of the Earl

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Intentions of the Earl Page 2

by Rose Gordon


  “Tomorrow nobody of any consequence will care about this, trust me. It’s not as if she were caught in a scandalous situation or anything. Sure someone might remember it forever,” he shrugged one shoulder, “but it’s not the kind of thing that will render either of them unmarriageable, or to be cut during social events.” He stopped talking and gazed at his wife; his face had taken on a contemplative air. “I think the problem could be more that she is dismissing the rules in general, not so much the scene. Liberty, on the other hand, is determined to learn and execute all the rules famously, which could be her downfall.”

  “Oh, John, I worry so about all three of them. I want them all to marry, but I want them to marry happily.” Her face had taken on a dreamy wistful look. “For love, like we did,” Carolina said quietly.

  “I know, but they have their own destinies to make,” John said with a yawn.

  Carolina got up and started walking across the room to take her leave. But just before she got to the door, she stopped and in a small voice asked the real question of the evening, “What did you learn about Madison tonight?”

  Closing his eyes, John took a deep breath. “Nothing. I watched her all evening. She turned every man down who asked her to dance. She looked as if she were lost in a daydream all the time.” Pausing, he shook his head as if it would dispel the unpleasant thought from inside. “I just don’t know if it’s a good dream or not.”

  Carolina nodded. As she walked down the hall toward her room, she briefly paused outside Madison’s door. But instead of going in, she just sighed and went on to her bed.

  Chapter 2

  Andrew Black, Earl of Townson, checked his watch. It was quarter after two, which meant he could safely leave without rising complaints of snubbing the hosts. Making his way to the door, he heard a deep, familiar voice behind him. “Hold there, Townson. I have a new proposition for you.”

  Andrew knew that voice. That voice belonged to the man who had been the reason he’d come to this ball in the first place. Turning around slowly, Andrew faced the cold hard-as-steel eyes of Benjamin Collins, Duke of Gateway. These two were not really friends nor enemies; they were just acquaintances. Which was exactly the way Andrew preferred it.

  Though Andrew could easily be considered a libertine by the ton, the duke had somehow earned the nickname as the Dangerous Duke. He wasn’t one anyone wanted to oppose. Revenge was his specialty. Nobody knew that better than Andrew.

  Only twice had Andrew personally been on the wrong side of Gateway; but since Eton, Andrew had seen first-hand what happened to both men and women who managed to get on Gateway’s bad side.

  Andrew had been relentlessly teased from day one at Eton. After two weeks of close observation, Benjamin Collins decided to do the unthinkable: befriended the outcast. Even though the teasing ceased, the cost was much greater. In exchange for protection and friendship, Andrew was forced to do Benjamin’s bidding. From schoolwork to covering for him when he snuck out at night to being the “enforcer” of revenge, Andrew did it. He did it well, and with little resentment, because he knew if he refused, his life would be even worse than it had been before.

  Squaring his shoulders, Andrew looked him in the eye. “What do you mean?”

  “It would appear that I need a favor,” Gateway drawled. “Now that we’re grown up I cannot offer you my protection from the other schoolboys, but I can give you back your deed.” Taking the deed that had changed hands from the earl to the duke earlier in the evening out of his pocket; he gave it a little wave. “Just do me this favor, and I’ll give the deed back without any debt attached to it.”

  Irritated about the low blow about needing his protection from the other schoolboys at Eton, Andrew swallowed a retort and forced himself to think about what this would mean. He had not done a “favor” for Gateway for more than ten years. After he refused to do one, they had a falling-out that led to someone else doing Gateway’s dirty work against Andrew, followed by Gateway taking his own revenge.

  After that, Andrew had stayed clear of the duke—until recently. When once again he’d fallen victim to the Great Gateway and had to surrender the deed to the last of his unentailed estates.

  The estate was in Essex and had accumulated more debt than Andrew could ever pay. Stupidly he’d agreed to take a loan from Gateway against the estate in order to improve it. The improvements didn’t work and he’d run out of time on the loan. Tonight was the night he had to surrender the deed to Gateway; which was the only reason he’d come to the ball.

  Unlike a normal man who would take care of this business in his study or at a solicitor’s office, Gateway had demanded the exchange take place somewhere public. Andrew assumed this was just another way for the duke to gloat.

  Silently weighing his options, he let out a pent up breath and asked anxiously, “Do I get details about this favor before I agree to do it?”

  Gateway’s smile dimmed and a shadow crossed his eyes. Andrew didn’t think that was a good sign.

  After tucking the deed back in his pocket, Gateway looked around the room. “This is something that we should speak about in private. This isn’t the place. I suspect by the pace of your stride and the direction you were walking that you were about to leave.” When Andrew merely nodded, Gateway said, “Would you care to meet me in half an hour in my study?” Gateway must have sensed there was some hesitancy when Andrew didn’t answer and added, “Just to talk about details, you’re not committed. Just remember, this could get you back your estate, free and clear.”

  Not missing the emphasis on his last three words, Andrew simply said, “A half-hour, then.” Then before he could do something stupid, like agree to Gateway’s bargain, he walked out of the ballroom.

  ***

  “Are you mad?” Andrew asked sharply, gaping at Gateway with open astonishment.

  “No, I’m not mad,” Gateway snapped. “I don’t know what your problem is; you seem to have to qualms with activity in general. What could possibly be holding you back?”

  “I don’t dally with innocents. That is my problem,” Andrew said fiercely. In light of what he’d just been asked to do, Andrew considered that to be a rather large problem.

  Gateway strode over to the fireplace, grabbed the poker and stoked the fire, creating a massive flame. When he was satisfied with his larger-than-necessary fire, he replaced the screen then turned to face his guest. “Come now, Townson, I’m not asking you to marry her, quite the opposite. I just want you to compromise her. Everyone knows you’re not the marrying type, and she’s an American chit, she hasn’t a leg to stand on to force you into marriage. It all works out perfectly.”

  Andrew felt his face getting hotter, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the newly stoked fire or the fact that he was so outraged by what he’d just been asked to do. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he went for it and asked the question he wasn’t certain he even wanted to know the answer to, “Why do you want this girl ruined?”

  Gateway didn’t answer. His eyes wandered aimlessly around his study. They landed on everything in the room. Everything except Andrew, that is.

  Andrew assumed he was doing this in hopes he’d lose interest in Gateway’s reasons. Such details Gateway would be loath to share; he’d never been forthcoming with them before.

  Finally, Gateway gave a nonchalant shrug. “I just want them gone. If one of their daughters gets ruined without a proposal, then they’ll leave. They’ll go home to America and be out of England.” His words were spoken casually; almost as if he thought this was nothing more than an ordinary drawing room conversation.

  Andrew knew immediately this wasn’t the whole truth, but he accepted it just the same. He’d never get the whole story from Gateway, no matter what he asked. But he still couldn’t help but wonder how the Banks family’s presence could affect Gateway in one way or another. Dismissing his thoughts, he stood and announced, “I’m not interested.”

  “Not interested?” Gateway scoffed. “How, pray tell, can
you not be interested?” he asked with a sneer. “You’re mad to reject such an offer. There's no commitment to the chit. You’ll never have to see her again. And don’t forget that I’m paying you handsomely, if I do say so myself. Not only do you get your estate in Essex back, but it will be completely without debt. You get your fun and you get paid for it, sounds like an ideal situation to me.”

  “Believe me, I want nothing more than to have my estate back. But there is a fine line between pulling a prank on someone and completely ruining not just one person, but an entire family. I won’t do it. Find someone else.” Andrew walked toward the door of Gateway’s study. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and Gateway as possible. This ruining an innocent girl and her family as a way to get his estate back was the most depraved thing he’d ever heard. It seemed extreme even for Gateway. Andrew assumed the man still had some scruples, apparently he was wrong, and this undoubtedly proved it.

  Gateway watched Andrew’s retreating form. If Andrew had been facing him, he could have read Gateway’s thoughts. They were all but printed in ink on his face.

  Gateway’s furious gaze suddenly evaporated and a sly smile crept across his face. He looked like he'd just figured out the solution to a difficult puzzle. “Coward,” he called to Andrew. His voice was low, almost inaudible.

  Andrew knew he should let it go. Just keep moving his feet forward and walk through the door. He was almost out of there and free. But no, those feet of his just wouldn’t cooperate. They were stuck; planted on Gateway’s plush royal blue carpet. His hands were clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides as he tried to ignore Gateway’s taunt. Then he heard it. “Funny thing about you, Townson, I really wouldn’t have thought you a coward. You’ve done some brassy things in your life. But maybe all the other boys at Eton knew something I didn’t. Maybe they were right, and you are nothing more than a coward who would still go around clutching his mother’s skirts if she’d allow it.”

  All the old painfully embarrassing memories came flooding back—every single one. All the teasing had started because his mother, not his father, had been the one to drop him off at school. That was enough to get garner a bit of hazing anyway, however, it also gave credit to the rumor someone circulated that evening about an old claim that he was a bastard. From then on he was taunted about being a “bastard mama’s boy who clutched to his whore of a mother’s skirts” and became the outcast at school. Most likely he would have stayed the outcast if not for Gateway’s surprising intervention.

  Gateway walked past him and into the hallway, casually saying over his shoulder, “I do understand your position. How could I have thought you’d be able to pull it off? I should have known you couldn’t do it before I approached you. Accept my apologies for wasting your time” He shook his head. “Thank you for the estate. I’m planning a trip there soon. I have been thinking I might even deed it over to my mistress when I’m done with her.” He paused and gave a shrug of nonchalance. “Usually, I just give them a cottage or rent them a townhouse for a year. But Sarah likes the country, she’ll be happier there.”

  “Wait,” Andrew called. He didn’t know if Gateway would really give an estate to a woman who sold her body for money, but it wouldn’t surprise him. Gateway was known to do things normal people considered inappropriate. And though impugning his manhood would generally be enough encouragement to get most men to do Gateway’s bidding, for Andrew, knowing his estate was going to be given to Gateway’s mistress was the part that made him reconsider.

  Gateway halted in the doorway and slowly turned around to look at Andrew. Cocking his head to one side, he asked, “Yes?”

  “What do you mean you should have known I couldn’t do it before you approached me?” Andrew bristled while he waited for the answer.

  Gateway shrugged again. “I hadn't realized you had such trouble in this area. No matter. I’ll just go find someone who doesn’t.” Gateway stopped for a token pause. It was just long enough to notice the murderous look on Andrews’s face. With a sly smile, he lowered the gauntlet. “If you’ll excuse me, I know just the man I need to go see about doing this, since you have indicated for some reason you lack the ability.”

  “My ability to handle this is perfectly adequate,” Andrew snapped before he realized what he said or what it would mean. In his defense of his pride, he'd just as good as agreed to ruin an innocent girl, all because of his quick tongue.

  Gateway could not have looked more pleased with himself. As usual, everything had fallen perfectly into place for Gateway’s benefit.

  Gateway’s face changed again, this time he looked slightly skeptical and disbelieving at the same time. He continued to stare blankly at Andrew, not giving any indication to his thoughts.

  Andrew knew what Gateway was about: he was picking his next words carefully, so not to allow Andrew a means to extricate himself.

  Gateway slowly strolled back toward Andrew. “Townson, I’m glad you think so. I just hope you can prove yourself. How about if we sit down and work out the terms of this agreement?” he said, gesturing toward his desk.

  Andrew, and just about everyone else in England, knew Gateway may not be the most well-liked person, but he had always been sharp as a tack and he prided himself on knowing just how to trap a person. Andrew learned this first hand his first term at Eton. Even though they were only boys at the time, Gateway had already developed this unpleasant trait.

  “Fine,” Andrew ground out, then sent Gateway a scowl for good measure. “Let’s state the terms. But if I’m to do this, then I want to be fairly compensated, there will be no reneging.” Andrew resigned himself to the unscrupulous task as he walked across the room to Gateway’s desk. His quick tongue might have trapped him into this, but as long as he was trapped, he was going to take full advantage. This was obviously something important to Gateway, so he should be willing to make this well worth Andrew’s while. Which was a good thing because once this was done, he probably wouldn’t be accepted into the drawing rooms of polite society for a long, long time.

  Taking seats together by Gateway’s large mahogany desk, the two men discussed exactly what they each wanted from the deal. Both had lofty expectations, but with a few compromises they both were going to be satisfied in the end. It was a win-win situation.

  With a written—and signed—copy of the terms of the agreement, Andrew felt hopeful about his future. All he had to do was bring scandal to Miss Banks, any of them, in a way that would shame their family enough for all of them to go back home to America.

  Though they had not determined what type of scandal Andrew was to cause to befall on Miss Banks, they both knew that short of a miracle, only one kind of scandal would send them back to America: one of the daughters had to be ruined. It didn’t have to be in truth, the appearance would be enough, he reminded himself again to help tramp down his guilt.

  It sounded simple enough when just saying it. It seemed easy when reading the words on paper. But Andrew knew the process would not be easy. To start with, he didn’t even know who these girls were. He’d never been introduced to them, so how could he get any of them to trust him enough to create a scandal?

  Andrew arrived home and went straight to his bed. He had a lot to think of. He should have just walked out of Gateway’s study, but that seemed impossible at the time. And now he was trapped. At least he’d get something that he wanted—no needed—out of the deal. As guilty as he felt about robbing a young girl of her future, he was going to secure his own.

  Thanks to his late father, Andrew was penniless and all of England knew it. His father had accumulated more debt than he had ever imagined. He knew his father had been a spendthrift, but it wasn’t until he had come into the title that he realized just how frivolous his father had been. There wasn’t anything the man hadn’t bought on credit and instead of paying it off, he just passed it to Andrew right along with the title.

  For the last eight years, Andrew had been paying it down by selling anything of any v
alue to keep the creditors at bay. The estate in Essex was the last thing.

  He had tried to save it because not only was it possible that the estate could turn a much needed profit, but also because his mother had been living there. That was another point in his favor for going through with this scheme. He would be able to get the estate back and gift it to his mother, who was currently living at Rockhurst, the seat of his earldom. She deserved at least that for what he had put her through.

  He rolled over. Guilt was eating him alive. He had guilt about what he was going to do to the Banks family and guilt about what he’d done to his own mother in the past. Some would say to let the guilt go about what happened between him and his mother, but it wasn’t easy for Andrew to do. Not only had he intentionally hurt her with his words, he essentially sentenced her to a life of solitude.

  Even if he hated the idea of what he was going to do, it would solve his two biggest problems. That gave him a bit of a relief, but not much.

  For now, he needed to think about his next step. Gateway had told him the Banks family was staying in Lord Watson’s townhouse while the Baron and his family were staying in the country. Andrew knew Lord Watson, he was the father to one of his friends, but other than that, he had no real knowledge of the family. That would have to be enough because he planned to start a courtship immediately.

  Chapter 3

  The townhouse where Brooke’s family was staying looked standard for this section of town. It was three stories high, made of a smooth light gray stone and had a white front door. Windows were placed directly above the door on the second and third floors, each with a private balcony. Six large, smooth stone steps and a black handrail led from the front door down to the edge of the street. When looking from down the street, with the exception of the numbers on the side, the house looked identical to the ones on either side. In other words, it wasn’t very original.

 

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