The Danger in Tempting an Earl

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The Danger in Tempting an Earl Page 10

by Sophie Barnes


  He set his cup on the table and picked up a sandwich instead. “It’s Lady Julie.”

  Katherine stilled as she considered this. She really wasn’t well enough acquainted with Mr. Goodard to be having this sort of conversation, but she also wasn’t opposed to the idea of him courting Lady Julie. Lord Rockly’s daughter was all wrong for Lucien, so if another gentleman could take her off his hands, that would be splendid. It would also allow Katherine a bit more time to consider a better match for her friend, since she wasn’t convinced that the other ladies she’d chosen were perfect either. “Am I to understand that you are making your inquiry because you have developed a tendre for the lady yourself?”

  It was a bold question, considering their brief acquaintance, but Mr. Goodard didn’t scoff at it or walk away. He held his ground, and in doing so, he heightened Katherine’s opinion of him. “I cannot lie to you, my lady. She has me completely smitten—­however demeaning that might be for any gentleman to admit.” He chuckled, perhaps to hide his embarrassment.

  “And you wish to know what Roxberry’s intentions toward her are?”

  Mr. Goodard inclined his head. “I merely wish to know if I would be wasting my time in pursuing her.”

  “Surely that is for Lady Julie to decide.”

  He chuckled. “Quite so, though I must admit it would ease my mind greatly if I didn’t have to compete with a man like Roxberry.”

  Katherine frowned. “I hope you’re not criticizing him, for if you are—­”

  “Rest assured, my lady, I was doing quite the opposite. What I mean is that I do believe he’s sent many a female hearts aflutter on numerous occasions, handsome, charming and . . . titled that he his.”

  “I’m sure you have your own merits, even if you do lack the title. Indeed, if I were to choose, I would choose character above title any day.”

  Mr. Goodard’s expression grew somber. “You speak as though from experience,” he said.

  Her heart skipped a little in her chest. She forced herself to smile. “It’s just my opinion. But, regarding your question, I fear it would be wildly inappropriate of me to speak of my friend’s confidences to anyone. Good heavens, whatever must you think of me to imagine that I would?”

  “Rest assured, my lady. I hold you in the highest regard.” He sat back against his seat. “But we both saw how cozy they looked with each other at the ball, whispering together and dancing not one but two sets. If you ask me, it’s quite apparent that Roxberry has set his sights on Lady Julie. So much so that I daresay you won’t be violating his trust by discussing it.”

  “It’s a matter of principle,” she said, “and if Roxberry’s regard for Lady Julie is indeed as apparent as you say it is, then I don’t see the need for you to question me about it.”

  “You are right, of course. Please forgive me.” He took a sip of his tea. “But I do believe I was correct in surmising that you disapprove of his choice, for indeed you did not look the least bit happy when you saw them having that little tête-à-tête at the ball.”

  “Good grief,” Katherine gasped. “You really are every bit the scoundrel.”

  He inclined his head and smiled broadly. “So they say.”

  “I ought to ask you to leave.”

  “And yet you’re too polite to do so.” He set his cup on its matching saucer. “Not to worry, though—­I’ll see to my own departure, though I would like to offer you a bit of advice before I go. If you will permit?”

  She wasn’t sure if she ought to allow such forwardness from a renowned rake, but curiosity got the better of her and she nodded.

  “Be honest with him, Lady Crossby. If you think Lady Julie is wrong for him, you should tell him so, as his friend. He values your opinion.”

  Katherine couldn’t help but doubt Mr. Goodard’s sincerity. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re only trying to win Lady Julie for yourself?”

  “Well, of course I am,” he said, surprising her with his candor, “but that doesn’t mean I cannot look out for everyone else’s best interests at the same time.”

  Katherine felt the urge to roll her eyes, but she refrained. “The only person’s interests you’re looking out for, sir, are your own.”

  “Tell me I’m wrong,” he pressed. “Tell me that you’re happy on Roxberry’s behalf.”

  “I . . .” Oh, what was the use? It was as if this scoundrel knew of the turmoil she was suffering through—­the doubt and confusion.

  Understanding flickered behind his eyes. “You cannot, can you, my lady? Indeed, if I am not mistaken, you think he would be better off with someone else entirely . . . someone like . . .”

  No. Surely he wouldn’t.

  “ . . . you, perhaps,” he finished.

  Katherine’s mouth dropped. She stared back at Mr. Goodard. Eventually she shook her head. “No. No, that’s not what I was thinking at all.”

  “Forgive me, Lady Crossby. It was impertinent of me to suggest it, but it does seem logical.”

  “I don’t believe it’s anything of the sort.” She was lying to herself and to Mr. Goodard in the process. The worst of it was that the glint in his eyes made it clear that he was aware of it. Folding her hands in her lap, she straightened her back and looked straight back at him. “Very well. I must confess that I have considered it . . . fleetingly, of course . . . since the Kingsborough Ball.” Why on earth was she confiding in this man she barely knew when she’d scarcely admitted it to herself? “But considering all the gossip that was circulating about us that evening, I hardly think it surprising. Do you?”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps not. Then again, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if the two of you were to marry. In fact, what astounds me is the possibility that Roxberry would have an interest in any other woman at all.”

  “You flatter me, sir, but I don’t believe his interest lies with me.”

  “And if it did? Would you marry him if he offered?”

  Katherine’s gaze drifted toward the window. It was sunny outside, with a slight chill—­perfect weather for working in the garden or going for a ride. “I don’t believe I’d care to remarry,” she whispered. She returned her gaze to Mr. Goodard, who was watching her a little too closely for comfort.

  “Well, so much for my plan,” he said. “I was beginning to think it would work out rather nicely if you could steal Roxberry away from Lady Julie so I could have her all to myself!”

  Katherine wasn’t sure if she ought to have been amused or outraged by such a statement, but then Mr. Goodard laughed, and she felt herself relax. “You are a rogue, aren’t you? Now that I think of it, I’m not so sure I like the idea of a match between you and Lady Julie. If memory serves, you did quite a few deplorable things in your youth.”

  “Hasn’t every man?”

  He had her there. Even Lucien had probably gotten up to a bit of mischief back in the day, though she would have been too young at the time to have been aware of it. A knock sounded, and Carter appeared in the doorway. “Lord Roxberry has arrived,” he announced. “And he is accompanied by Lady Julie. Shall I show them in?”

  The smile that had captured Katherine’s lips at the mention of Lucien remained plastered to her face as she numbly nodded in response. Daft. That was what she was. She suddenly realized how much she’d been looking forward to seeing him again and how annoyed she now was at the prospect of having to share his attention.

  “Are you unwell?” Mr. Goodard asked.

  “No,” she managed, even though she felt faint. “I’m quite all right, really.” Feeling restless, she rose just enough to reach for the flowers on the table, intending to busy herself with rearranging them, but her agitated state caused her to forget herself and she moved too hastily, knocking her knee against the table. The vase tilted and Katherine instinctively pitched forward, determined to catch it before it fell over completely and made a mess, but anot
her hand shot out and grabbed it.

  Katherine gasped. She knew she’d lost her footing in the midst of all this and that she would soon be landing on the table, most likely at the exact moment when Lucien and Lady Julie would enter. What could possibly be more embarrassing? She had the answer to that question soon enough when her downward progress was halted by Mr. Goodard. He pulled her back so swiftly that she went tumbling right into him. His arm came around her shoulders to hold her steady, and in his hand he held the troublesome vase.

  “Thank you,” Katherine managed. She was just about to step back when a movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Looking toward it, she felt her face grow hot at the sight she beheld—­Lucien and Lady Julie staring back at her with wide-eyed astonishment.

  Of all the things Lucien had expected to encounter upon his arrival at Cresthaven that day, this was most assuredly not one of them. Standing there in the doorway to Katherine’s parlor, he couldn’t help feeling like the biggest fool that had ever lived as his eyes settled on Katherine and Mr. Goodard, of all ­people. The man was a known rake, and the way in which he was holding her . . . it looked like an exceedingly passionate embrace. “Forgive us,” Lucien said, recalling that he’d brought Lady Julie along in the hope of stirring some feelings of jealousy in Katherine. By God, he’d ridden all the way to Kingsborough Hall to fetch the lady, fully aware that he’d promised Katherine he’d refrain from an immediate courtship so the two of them could spend some time together. It was pathetic, really, yet here she was looking disturbingly intimate with Mr. Goodard. “It appears we’re intruding on a private moment.”

  “Not at all,” Mr. Goodard replied as he disengaged himself from Katherine and bowed toward Lady Julie. “Lady Crossby and I were merely discussing a conversation we had the other evening. I feared I might have upset her, so I came to offer my apologies.”

  “I see.” Lucien noticed the vase in Mr. Goodard’s hand. “The flowers are lovely, by the way.”

  With a broad smile and gleaming eyes, Mr. Goodard turned to look at Katherine, who still appeared mildly dazed. “Yes, I thought it a pity that they should go to waste.”

  Lucien was finding it difficult to breathe. Hadn’t Katherine just told him that she had no intention of marrying or of becoming anyone’s mistress? She couldn’t have changed her mind, could she? “Forgive me, Mr. Goodard,” he found himself saying, “but as Lady Crossby’s friend, I must insist on knowing what your intentions are.” He felt Lady Julie’s hand upon his arm in a gesture of comfort. What a blow this had to be to her as well.

  “My intentions?” Mr. Goodard looked confused.

  “They had best be honorable, or I will personally call you out.”

  Katherine’s eyes widened. “You will do no such thing. Mr. Goodard has done nothing wrong.”

  “Then please explain why he was being so familiar with you just now,” Lucien said. Noting the look of alarm in Katherine’s eyes and the tightening of Mr. Goodard’s jaw, Lucien realized his mistake. In his frustration, he’d embarrassed Katherine horribly in front of everyone.

  Mr. Goodard stepped toward him, undoubtedly intent on admonishing him for his thoughtlessness.

  With tremendous effort, Lucien reined in his annoyance, determined to salvage the situation before he and Mr. Goodard came to blows. “My apologies,” he said, perhaps a bit too hastily. “I meant no disrespect. I am just surprised, that is all, but since Mr. Goodard is here and Lady Julie was good enough to join me, there are now four to our party. What say you if we go for a ride together? I know we discussed a race, but perhaps we could visit the old ruins for a game of hide-and-seek instead?”

  Katherine looked skeptical, and Lucien knew that she had not yet forgiven his public insistence that she explain the nature of her relationship with Mr. Goodard. Thankfully, Lady Julie’s youthful spirit applauded the idea of a game of hide-and-seek. “Oh yes!” She clapped her hands together while her eyes implored them all to agree. “It’s been so long since I’ve played.”

  “Then we mustn’t disappoint you,” Katherine said, eyeing Lucien with some degree of reservation. “It’s lovely weather for a ride, so I suggest we leave behind the carriage.”

  “Would it be all right if my maid remained here in the meantime?” Lady Julie asked. “I mean, I brought Sarah along to chaperone, but if Lady Crossby is there, then I think I’d rather give my maid a little time off—­she’d love to see your garden, my lady.”

  Katherine smiled, and Lucien caught his breath. “I think that would be acceptable, Lady Julie. Is she very fond of gardens, then?”

  “Oh yes, and yours is one of the most famous ones. In fact, she could barely keep her enthusiasm at bay as we approached, isn’t that so, Lord Roxberry?”

  “Her interest was very much apparent,” he said, his eyes fixed on the only object of his own interest—­Katherine.

  “You surprise me,” Lucien told Katherine as they rode along the dirt road that would take them a ­couple of miles away from Cresthaven and to the ruins of an old medieval castle. Lady Julie was not an expert horsewoman and had fallen behind. Lucien knew he probably ought to have remained at her side, but when Mr. Goodard had seemed more than willing to oblige, Lucien had taken the opportunity to ride ahead alongside Katherine, leaving Lady Julie to enjoy the company of the man she loved. Well, one of them deserved to be happy on this wretched day.

  “How so?” Katherine asked.

  “I think you know perfectly well,” he muttered. Finding her like that with Mr. Goodard had made him glum and raw with jealousy. He hated the feeling.

  “I can only assume that you are referring to the unfortunate situation you found me in with Mr. Goodard upon your arrival.”

  “Indeed I am.” He angled his head so he could look at her and was immediately taken aback by the sight, for she held her chin high, jaw firmly clenched while her eyes drove into the horizon. Swallowing any reservations he had about continuing with this issue, he said, “I only want what’s best for you, so unless Mr. Goodard is proposing marriage, I beg you to reconsider your actions.”

  She didn’t respond right away, but he could see that her throat was working, as if she was struggling with finding the right words. “I told you just the other night that I have no intention of remarrying. Do you really suppose that I would change my mind so quickly?”

  “Then it is as I feared,” Lucien muttered, his heart slamming against his chest as he tried to digest what she had told him. “He has propositioned you and you have . . . please don’t tell me that you have accepted.”

  “Do you know,” she said, her voice disturbingly quiet, “that of all ­people, I never thought that you would have questioned my judgment.”

  “Then give me a reason not to,” he blurted.

  “I shouldn’t have to.” She looked at him then, her hair falling in soft tresses around her face. “Considering all that you know of me, you should be able to trust that I will do the right thing. Instead, you have presumed the very worst, not only of me but of Mr. Goodard as well.”

  “How so?”

  “It’s silly, really, but just as you were arriving, I lost my balance while trying to straighten the tulips. Mr. Goodard caught not only the vase but me as well, which I daresay was fortuitous, or you might have found me lying on the floor instead.”

  It sounded like a perfectly reasonable explanation, but Lucien didn’t entirely believe it. In his opinion, it seemed far more likely that Mr. Goodard had tried to use the vase to his advantage—­as an excuse to play the knight to her damsel in distress. Katherine, on the other hand, had been gazing up at him all dreamy-eyed. Lucien’s stomach twisted. All he could think of was pulling her off her horse and shaking her until her teeth clanged together. She was completely wrong for Mr. Goodard. She should be with him, Lucien Marvaine, Earl of Roxberry—­the man who’d loved her since she’d slipped and fallen into the lake at the
tender age of sixteen.

  Christ, what a mess!

  Untangling it would be harder than combing out the knots in Katherine’s hair when she was eight years old and had gotten jam in it. How she’d managed it, Lucien wasn’t aware, but she’d been too afraid to go to her maid for help, since she would only have informed Katherine’s mother. Instead, the little sprite had thrust a comb into Lucien’s hand and begged him to do the job for her. Which of course he had, although the chore had taken the better part of an hour.

  Fleetingly, Lucien wondered if Mr. Goodard would have been so obliging. He forced the thought away. If Katherine planned to dismiss her embrace with Mr. Goodard as something meaningless, then he had no choice but to give her the benefit of the doubt. Not unless he wanted to lose her friendship forever, which was precisely what he feared might happen if he failed to assure her of his faith in her.

  “This is splendid,” Lady Julie announced as she and Mr. Goodard rode into what had once been the bailey of a solid stone fortress. The walls had long since begun to crumble, leaving a jagged silhouette against the background of the sky.

  From far above, the twitter of birds reached their ears. Looking up, Katherine spotted a nest. It was sitting on a ledge that had probably once been part of a window. It was years since she’d last been out here, and she couldn’t help but note the extra bits of moss and weed that squeezed between the cracks in the stone.

  Dismounting, Katherine led her horse over to a tree that had sprung through the ground in a corner, then she secured the reins to a low branch. “Shall I go first?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at the others. “I don’t mind doing the searching.” It would give her an opportunity to reacquaint herself with the ruin at a more leisurely pace than if she had to run and hide.

  “I think we ought to draw straws,” Mr. Goodard said as he dismounted. “What do you think, Roxberry?”

  “It sounds fair enough to me,” Lucien said. Already on the ground, he went to help Lady Julie down, his hands lingering about her waist just a second longer than required.

 

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