“I said I like her,” Brooks repeated, a bit more loudly this time.
So did Ian. A lot.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Ian ground out.
“You like her, too.” Brooks grinned, revealing a chipped front tooth, a hazard of guarding the front door of the Raven Club. Brooks had been with Ian from the beginning, and it wasn’t beyond him to provoke Ian when he thought provocation was deserved.
“She’s a comely female. What red-blooded male wouldn’t desire her?” Ian responded.
“I’m not speaking solely of her appearance. She has a fiery nature.”
Fiery. She’d come alive in his arms. Their shared heated kiss would haunt him when he lay in bed tonight.
Brooks raised his glass. “She’s not like the women at the Raven Club. She won’t avidly pursue you, my friend.”
The comparison of the masked ladies that roamed his club to Grace was like comparing night to day. Grace may have first approached him at his club, but no, she was nothing like them. She was infinitely more interesting.
“I’m not seeking a liaison or tryst with the chit, remember?” Ian ground out.
Brooks raised his glass in mock salute. “Therein lies the problem.”
Ian glowered at him. “You’re speaking in riddles. If you have something to say, then spit it out, man.”
“You want her, but you cannot have her.”
Ian knew Brooks was goading him, but he had the strong urge to smash his friend in the mouth. He set his empty glass on a table instead. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you’re tense.”
“So?”
“I know you well enough to understand that tense does not suit you or those in your employ. If you are determined to go forward with your plans of tutelage, and not seduce the lady, then you’d best seek the services of another female—preferably one of the willing widows at the club.”
Ian drummed his fingers beside his glass on the table. He had no desire to seek out another. It was a disturbing thought, but he pushed it aside along with the reason for his lack of interest—thoughts best left unexamined.
“The lessons have taken all my free time. If you haven’t noticed, I have much to do. I’m already behind on the club’s ledgers.”
Brooks lips twisted in a smile. “The ledgers?”
“That’s right. The figures don’t add themselves.”
That much was true. Business always came before pleasure. No one touched the ledgers but Ian. The arduous task had kept him up late on many nights. But he never sought pleasure or lost himself in a willing woman’s arms until he saw to the club’s needs first. This was the reason, Ian told himself, that he wouldn’t follow Brooks’s advice and go to the Raven Club tonight where lascivious masked ladies roamed the floor.
Gaming was only one of the women’s vices.
“If you’re not going to bed the lady, maybe you should release her.”
“Release her?”
“Her father’s debt is not substantial. You have more money than you’ll ever need. Hire another to instruct you.”
Ian’s gut clenched tight. “No.”
“No?”
“I said no.”
He could do this. He could spend hours alone with her and restrain himself. The kiss in the carriage was a moment of weakness after the intimacy of having her cut his hair. He was not an untried lad. He had control, dammit.
A knowing smirk crossed Brooks’s broad face, and once again, Ian knew he’d been provoked.
Bloody bastard. Ian’s fists clenched at his sides.
“Come to think of it, Brooks. You’re right. I am tense. There’s no better way to relive my stress than in the ring. How about we head to the club for a match?”
Chapter Ten
“There are rumors about the new Earl of Castleton.”
Grace’s lips twitched at the words whispered into her ear by her close friend, Prudence.
The two were walking down Bond Street along with Grace’s maid, Rose. The district offered a tempting array of establishments where a lady could shop. They walked past the newest attractions: a jeweler who also sold snuffboxes and seals, a linen draper, a furniture maker, a French dressmaker whose fashions were all the rage with the ladies of the ton, and an old bookshop whose shelves were crammed with volumes of all genres.
But it was the milliner’s down the street that was her true destination. Grace shifted the package in her arms. No one, other than Prudence and Rose, knew the true contents of the package.
At Grace’s silence, Prudence touched her arm. “Well? Aren’t you going to ask me about the earl?”
Prudence didn’t know about her scandalous arrangement with Ian. Knowing Prudence’s fondness for gossip Grace had kept it secret, but that didn’t stop her from feeling a felt a fresh wave of guilt for not confiding in her friend.
Ian would eventually take his place in Society. As her close friend, would Prudence be able to tell that Grace knew Ian as soon as he stepped foot in a ballroom?
A small lie could avoid future trouble.
If she told Prudence that she’d already met the earl—just not where she’d met him—then her future responses would appear genuine.
“I don’t need to ask about him. I already met Castleton,” Grace said.
Prudence gaped at her. “Truly?”
“Yes.”
Prudence pursed her lips. “Where?”
Grace pushed a wayward dark curl off her shoulder and turned to Prudence. “It was a brief encounter.”
“How brief?”
“I was walking in Hyde Park with Adam. My brother loves the park, and this time of year is lovely and—”
“What about Castleton? You must have seen the earl up close, and in daylight. I’ve met his mother and his sisters, of course, but not the earl.”
Grace’s mind spun as she concocted her story. “Adam twisted an ankle. Nothing serious. Castleton carried Adam and hired a hack.” Once she started, she couldn’t stop. She wanted to tell Prudence something, but this story was sure to cause more questions.
“There has been much gossip about him,” Prudence said.
“What gossip?”
“There are rumors he owns an exclusive gaming club and an establishment where even ladies attend, wearing masks to protect their anonymity.”
Grace’s heart began to pound. “Truly?”
“Yes. I’ve even heard bare-knuckled boxing takes place there, and ladies can place wagers on their favorite pugilists. I’d give my two front teeth to don a mask and go to one of those clubs. Wouldn’t you?”
“I have no desire to see a boxing match, and a gambling hall holds no interest for me. I despise them.”
Prudence’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I know you worry about your father’s fondness for the tables. I admire you, Grace. I don’t know how you can work tirelessly on those ledgers for that proprietress.”
“I like the milliner, Mrs. Kent, and I enjoy my work.”
Prudence gave her an incredulous look. “How on earth do you sort out all those tiny figures?”
“The calculations are not difficult, just time consuming. You must maintain good records and line the numbers up correctly.”
Prudence scoffed. “I will gladly take your word for it.”
They were coming close to the shop now. Grace reached for the door. “I need for you and Rose to stand guard while I conduct my business.”
The shop’s bells chimed as the door opened and closed. A woman with dark curls fading gently to gray and wearing thick spectacles stood behind a counter. She was brushing a green velvet hat and looked up when they stepped inside the shop. Her gaze moved between Grace and Prudence.
“Good morning, ladies,” she said.
“Good day,” Prudence said.
It was always the same. Mrs. Kent never let on that she knew Grace. It was one of the reasons Grace had felt comfortable agreeing to handle the widow’s books secretly.
They strol
led into the shop where a handful of ladies were examining and trying on the wares. Bonnets decorated with feathers, ribbons, lace, fake flowers, and spangles were displayed on stands around the shop. More bonnets, hats, and turbans made from silk, satin, velvet, and straw were arranged on tables. Grace nodded to the other shoppers as she walked past the shopkeeper and slipped her package on the counter.
“Did you have trouble with your items, miss?” Mrs. Kent asked. To any in the store, it would appear as if Grace were a customer who wished to speak with the proprietress.
“Only as noted.”
Mrs. Kent lowered her voice and leaned on the counter. “Ah, I have more work for you. Also, the tobacconist shop next door could use your services. I never mentioned your name, of course.”
“Of course,” Grace whispered.
She trusted Mrs. Kent to keep her confidence. She’d been working for the widow for a little over six months now after her husband’s passing. Mr. Kent had handled the shop’s accounting needs, and his wife had been struggling to take over the task. Grace had happened to be in the shop to hear Mrs. Kent complaining to her son about the ledgers, and she’d offered to work for the woman. It had been a mutually beneficial relationship. But to begin work for another business could impose risk.
She hadn’t lied to Prudence. She was good at her work and enjoyed it. More compellingly, she needed the money. Grace’s arrangement with Ian would erase her father’s debt to the Raven Club. But she still needed money to ensure the smooth running of the household and to properly take care of Adam.
Grace smiled at Mrs. Kent, feigning interest in the green velvet hat in the shopkeeper’s hands. “Please tell the owner I shall visit to discuss his offer.” Like many aristocracy, her father used snuff. No one would question her presence in the shop, especially if she picked up a tin of her father’s favorite tobacco during her visits.
Mrs. Kent pushed her spectacles farther up her nose. “I’ll make the arrangements, miss.”
A young man came from the back room carrying a tall stack of hat boxes. Grace recognized the handsome youth who was Mrs. Kent’s son. He smiled when he spotted Grace. “Good day, miss.”
“Good day, Jonathan.” Grace wasn’t certain if he knew of her work for his mother, but she suspected he knew something. Jonathan was always polite when Grace frequented the place, and he helped his mother with the shop.
Her business concluded, Grace joined Prudence behind a row of tall shelves.
“Is all well?”
“Mrs. Kent says the tobacconist next door could also use my bookkeeping services.”
“Are you sure you need to?”
Grace reached for a straw bonnet with fake flowers. “You mean work? Yes, and it’s not much hardship. I’m good with numbers.”
Prudence wrinkled her nose. “I still don’t understand how. Mother has been trying to teach me how to run a household after I marry, and she insists I must regularly meet with the steward. All those little numbers make my head ache.”
“For once, I agree with your mother. How else will you know if you are being cheated by your servants or others?”
“Posh! I’d rather talk about gentlemen.” Prudence pursed her lips. “Gentlemen like Lord Castleton. Did you know there are other fascinating rumors about the earl?”
“Such as?”
“That Castleton is responsible for his brother’s death.”
Grace’s fingers tightened on the bonnet in her hands, and she looked at Prudence. “That’s ludicrous.” The denial was out before she could stop herself.
“Why?” Prudence asked. “Some say he wanted the earldom and its wealth.”
Grace had no proof that Ian had nothing to do with his brother’s death, but deep down in the marrow of her bones, she knew such malicious gossip was false. “How do they say he killed his brother?”
“A horse race. His brother fell and broke his neck. Only the two of them were racing. No witnesses were present.”
“If there were no witnesses, then how can they believe the earl caused his brother’s death?”
“He coerced him to ride recklessly.”
Her fingers began twisting the bonnet again. “I don’t believe it.”
“How would you know?”
Ian didn’t want the earldom or the title. He resented being called “my lord.” From what she could surmise, he didn’t need the wealth.
How much to tell? “I just find it hard to believe. How could he know his brother would fall off his horse and die?” Grace placed the straw bonnet back on the shelf. The flowers were twisted where she’d tightly gripped them.
Prudence shrugged. “You make a good argument. I cannot wait to meet him! Mother is insisting I marry soon, and to a titled gentleman, but no one has caught my fancy this Season. Maybe Lord Castleton will be my answer.”
For some reason, her friend’s remark disturbed Grace. She rubbed her temples and felt the beginnings of a headache. “You just said there are rumors he caused his brother’s death to inherit the earldom, and now you are considering marrying him?”
“You pointed out it isn’t likely.”
Grace’s headache grew. “Yes, but—”
The shop’s bells chimed, and they both looked from behind a shelf to see a group of ladies enter.
“Look who has arrived,” Prudence said. “It’s Lady Castleton, the earl’s mother.”
Ian’s mother was here?
Grace peeked from behind the shelf. She spotted two young girls and an older woman who she recognized as Lady Taddlesworth from her meeting at the Orphaned Children’s Relief Society.
“Ugh. Lady Taddlesworth is with them. The woman frightens me,” Prudence said.
“Why?” Grace was wary around the woman herself. Lady Taddlesworth had attempted to intimidate her at the last meeting, but Grace had still found the gumption to offer her own opinions on how best to help the orphans. She wasn’t sure why Prudence didn’t like her.
“She’s friendly with all the patronesses of Almack’s, and one word from her in Lady Jersey’s ear, and I won’t get a voucher. Mother will have a fit.”
The Wednesday night assemblies on King Street were considered the height of the marriage mart where young ladies found appropriate husbands. “Who are the two girls with them?” Grace asked.
“Those are Lady Castleton’s daughters, Lady Ellie and Lady Olivia.”
Grace watched the two girls with avid interest. Both were very pretty. One had hair a lovely shade of red; the other was fair-haired. These were Ian’s sisters, the reason he was going through the effort of learning how to act as a proper gentleman. As she watched, the red-haired sister reached for a lovely bonnet adorned with ribbons and a saucy peacock feather on display on a table. A movement caught the girl’s eye, and she glanced in the direction of the shopkeeper’s son. Jonathan smiled at her, and she offered a tentative smile in return. Unfortunately, Lady Taddlesworth caught the exchange, and she immediately pulled on the girl’s arm, leaning down to say something to her that made her drop the bonnet on the table and frown.
Grace felt sorry for the young lady.
“Why are they with Lady Taddlesworth?” Grace asked.
“I believe the countess has asked for Lady Taddlesworth’s assistance with preparing her daughters for their debut into Society. The poor things. Can you imagine?” Prudence asked.
“No. They look scared to death of her. Can we avoid Lady Taddlesworth as we leave?”
Prudence shook her head. “Surely they will see us. We must greet them.”
They approached with unease. “Hello, Lady Castleton. Lady Taddlesworth,” Prudence said, and curtsied. “You know my good friend, Miss Ashton.”
Grace curtsied. “It is a pleasure to see you both.” She couldn’t help but compare Lady Castleton to her son. Unlike Ian’s dark looks, Lady Castleton’s coloring was fair. Only the shape of their eyes was similar. The lady was dressed in black bombazine again.
“May I introduce my daughters, Ellie and O
livia,” Lady Castleton said.
Before Grace could offer the girls a smile, Lady Taddlesworth spoke up. “I remember our last meeting for the Orphaned Children’s Relief Society well. You were quite opinionated as I recall.”
Grace knew Prudence’s concerns were valid. One word from the powerful widow could ruin a lady’s chances of seeking a coveted Almack’s voucher and even tarnish her reputation. Grace forced a smile, one she prayed appeared genuine. “Only for the benefit of the children.”
“An admirable trait if you ask me,” Lady Castleton added.
“Yes, I suppose,” Lady Taddlesworth said, softening her tone a bit, then turning her attention away from Grace.
Grace was grateful to Ian’s mother for her interference once again. She waited until the women were occupied with a display of turbans before approaching the sisters.
“I saw you looking at the bonnet with the peacock feather,” Grace said to Ellie. “I think it would look lovely on you. Try it on,” she urged.
“Really?” Ellie asked.
“No one is looking. Try it.”
Ellie smiled mischievously as she slipped on the bonnet and tied it beneath her chin.
“Just as I thought. It brings out the vivid blue in your eyes. Take a look.”
Ellie glimpsed her reflection in the polished mirror, and Grace caught the girl’s surreptitious glance in the direction of the shopkeeper’s son.
Interesting. Jonathan was a handsome youth, and Ellie was lovely. But such a flirtation between an earl’s sister and a shopkeeper’s son would never be condoned.
“I love it, but Lady Taddlesworth wouldn’t approve,” Ellie said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
“She’d pick a bonnet with frilly lace, never one with such a bold and sassy feather. She says gentlemen prefer innocent-looking young ladies,” Olivia said.
“What does she know about what gentlemen like? She’s been widowed forever,” Grace said.
Both girls chuckled, then covered their mouths. Olivia looked around before whispering, “We call her the Dragon.”
It was Grace’s turn to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. “It’s a fitting name.”
How to Tempt an Earl_Raven Club Page 8