by Gill, Tamara
“How is my dear, dear goddaughter. I hope you’re enjoying yourself this evening?”
“I am, my lady, very much so, but I’ve just had the most distressing news.” Darcy looked up at Athelby, his steely gaze locked on her. It did odd things to her stomach having his attention in such a way. She turned her attention back to Lady Ainsworth to escape it.
“Your grandson has just informed me tonight that our association must come to an end.”
“Now, those were not my exact words…”
Her ladyship held up her hand, halting her grandson’s explanation. “What did he say, my dear? You have my full attention,” she said, casting an irritated glance at Athelby.
“Due to my husband’s death, and I holding this ball twelve months to the day since we laid Terrance to rest, the duke believes that I would only bring shame and ruination to your family should we be seen together. This ball is a garish act and one that puts me into the light of a woman who did not love her husband.” Not that she did at all, but her ladyship didn’t need to know that. “And so, we must part from this night on. Never to be seen together again I’m afraid.”
“Your sarcasm is not lost on me, Lady de Merle,” the Duke said, glaring to the point his brows almost joined, and not caring who in the upper ten-thousand saw that he was.
Darcy wanted him to be aware of her annoyance, and although she smiled sweetly at Lady Ainsworth, what the duke had said earlier was not to be borne. How dare he make her feel like she was the one who’d done something wrong. That her conduct was somehow worse than her husband’s whoring, and gambling, most of which was with her money. Another little prickle in her soul that she’d had to walk away from a house that she’d rightfully saved from being taken back by the banks upon his death. How could she not celebrate being rid of a complete fool? She would not pretend a broken heart or to be a sad little widow.
“Well, that is absurd, and I can assure you, my dear,” Lady Ainsworth said, her jowls shaking a little in wrath, “I will be spending just as much time with you as I always have. Your mama was one of my closest friends, no matter the twenty-year difference between us. And I always promised her that I would care for you until the day I died, and I will not, no matter what my grandson has to say about it, deviate from the honor.”
“Thank you, your ladyship.”
“Grandmother, see sense. If I’m to find a wife of similar standards to my own, surely you can see that our family being associated with a renowned hellion, a woman who flaunts her freedom from the marriage state with little care for her reputation, would not show us in a favourable light.”
Lady Ainsworth sighed, looking down her nose at her grandson. Not the easiest of feats considering his grace was standing, and both Darcy and her ladyship were sitting. “I will not hear of such stupidity again. Really, Cameron, do step off that high horse you seem so acquainted with these days and return to our level.”
Darcy’s lips twitched, and she fought not to giggle at the reddening of his grace’s cheeks. Really, he was being so silly to look down on her so. “What if I promise that whenever I’m around her ladyship and yourself for that matter, that I’m on my best behaviour?” she said, taking pity on the man. If it meant she could continue socializing with Lady Ainsworth, she would take care. When she decided to enjoy her Season and all the opportunities this and others might bring, she never meant to inadvertently hurt others. If his association with her would hurt his chances of making a match, then she would while around him, behave herself.
“You’re around us tonight, and yet you’re foxed. Not that my grandmother has noticed such a thing.”
“Oh, for pity sake, it is a ball and one that is being hosted by me. I may drink if I wish and I’ll not have, even a duke, tell me what to do.”
“That is enough, both of you,” her ladyship said, casting them both a dark glance. “Anyone listening would think you’re a bickering married couple already, like so many around us. Your grace, you do not have the right to be so opinionated about someone who has been a family friend for many years. You need to remember if you cannot say anything nice, you do not say anything at all.”
“I think grandmother that is the first logical thing you’ve said this evening, and is my cue to leave.” His grace bowed. “Good evening ladies,” he said, heading in the direction of the ballroom doors.
Darcy growled, throwing daggers at his back as he made his way through the ton. Argh, the man was infuriating and so high-and-mighty. She had just as good breeding as his grace, she was a de Merle. How dare he look down his nose at her.
“Darcy, my dear. I know your mind is no doubt coming up with multiple ways of getting back at my grandson, but please let him be. I’m hoping that when he gets a wife that his emotional wall, his rather cutting opinions may abate a little.”
“I doubt that they will, but I promise I shall not cause trouble for him. We differ in opinions, and no doubt will again. I will not stop inviting him to events or talking to him should our paths cross.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Her ladyship paused, a small frown line between her brows the only indication that she was concerned about the duke. Otherwise Lady Ainsworth was a very attractive woman for her age, of course, she had smile lines, and her hair was grey, but otherwise, time had been very kind to her.
“I think my grandson is lonely. And I do believe that is why he’s so angry at the world. As you know, he lost his only sibling, spent his informative years with no one to argue with, play and share secrets. He’s grown so used to his own company that I think he finds it hard to socialize. As was demonstrated this evening.”
A pang of sadness tweaked inside Darcy at the memory of the duke’s elder brother’s carriage accident that had taken his life. But remembering his ungentlemanly words, she tried to push the emotion of feeling sorry for the duke aside. Not very successfully she might add. “I’m sure you’re right, Lady Ainsworth. A happy union is just what his grace needs and maybe this will be the Season that he finds a woman to warm his bed.”
“Sometimes I think you’re the perfect person for Cameron. You both certainly have a wicked tongue,” her ladyship said, a calculating twinkle in her blue orbs.
Darcy chuckled, waving a footman over to bring them champagne. “We would not suit, and I’m not looking to marry anyone. Marriage to Lord Terrance was quite enough for one lifetime.”
Her ladyship sighed, taking a small sip of her wine. “Well, that is a shame, for I would love to have you as a granddaughter as well as my goddaughter. But,” she said, a sad tilt to her lips, “one cannot have everything that they wish. I often fret that I shall never see the two people I care for most happy and settled in the world.”
Darcy took her ladyship’s hand and squeezed. She was not immune to her words that often sparked guilt within her. And knowing it was completely on purpose on her ladyship’s behalf made her smile. “Do behave godmother. I know what game you’re playing, and once again, his grace and myself do not suit. My only connection to the gentleman is through you, and that is where it shall stay. As stated previously tonight and many times at previous events. If you recall.”
“One must try to make you understand, my dear. It never hurts to plant a suggestion into one’s mind for it to fester and possibly make them wonder if my suggestion had merit.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Darcy said, laughing.
“I know,” her ladyship replied, no remorse whatsoever in her tone.
Darcy looked back at the duke and tried to imagine him in her bed. He was certainly one of the most striking, powerful men in London. In the throes of passion, wild and wicked, maybe he would look even more so. He turned and looked down at Miss Watson whom he was currently conversing with, frowning and what looked like chastising the poor woman. Darcy shook her head. No, he would never do.
His Grace looked up and their gazes smashed together. The pit of her stomach clenched and her cheeks flushed from the inspection he bestowed on her. What a shame she disliked hi
m so much. Or was he like his grandmother said, merely misunderstood.
To Madden a Marquess
Lords of London, Book 2
She saved his life, but can she save him from himself?
Hunter, Marquess of Aaron, has the ton fooled. Outwardly he’s a gentleman of position, with good contacts, wealth and charm. Inwardly, he’s a mess. His vice—drinking himself into a stupor most days—almost kills him when he steps in front of a hackney cab. His saviour, a most unlikely person, is an angel to gaze at, but with a tongue sharper than his sword cane.
Cecilia Smith dislikes idleness and waste. Had she been born male, she would already be working for her father’s law firm. So, on a day when she was late for an important meeting at one of her many charities, she was not impressed by having to step in and save a foxed gentleman rogue from being run over.
When their social spheres collide, Hunter is both surprised and awed by the capable, beautiful Miss Smith. Cecilia, on the other hand, is left confused and not a little worried by her assumptions about the Marquess and his demons. It is anyone’s guess whether these two people from different worlds can form one of their own…
To Vex a Viscount
Lords of London, Book 4
For the past six years, Miss Lizzie Doherty has had exactly zero proposals. Not because she isn’t attractive, or from a good family, or doesn’t have well-connected friends, but simply because she is poor. Or so the ton believe. Invited to a country house party on a stormy night, her journey takes an unexpected turn when her driver delivers her to the wrong estate. Upon entering the home, she’s soon masked and sworn to secrecy. Never has Lizzie ever experienced such an odd and intriguing event, so she plays along to see where the night will take her.
Lord Hugo, Viscount Wakely lives for sin, for anything scandalous, and for house parties that involve all of those things. At least he used to. But imagine his surprise when his good friends’ ward, Miss Lizzie Doherty, an innocent and a successful debutante six years running, arrives at the last debauchery house party he’ll attend. Or when an impromptu, scandalous kiss turns his life upside down.
Lizzie decides to stay for the week-long house party. Masks keep the guests’ identities secret, but Lizzie would know Lord Hugo Wakely anywhere. And that one impromptu, scandalous kiss tells her that he is the Viscount for her…he just doesn’t know it yet.
Feed an author, leave a review
If you enjoyed TO TEMPT AN EARL, and would like to tell other readers your thoughts on the book, then please consider leaving a review at your preferred online bookstore or Goodreads.
Also by Tamara Gill
Scandalous London Series
A GENTLEMAN’S PROMISE
A CAPTAIN’S ORDER
A MARRIAGE MADE IN MAYFAIR
SCANDALOUS LONDON - SERIES BUNDLE
High Seas & High Stakes Series
HIS LADY SMUGGLER
HER GENTLEMAN PIRATE
HIGH SEAS & HIGH STAKES - SERIES BUNDLE
Time Travel Romance
DEFIANT SURRENDER
A STOLEN SEASON
Lords of London Series
TO BEDEVIL A DUKE
TO MADDEN A MARQUESS
TO TEMPT AN EARL
TO VEX A VISCOUNT
To Marry a Rogue Series
ONLY AN EARL WILL DO
ONLY A DUKE WILL DO
ONLY A VISCOUNT WILL DO
A Time Traveler’s Highland Love Series
TO CONQUER A SCOT
TO SAVE A SAVAGE SCOT
Daughters Of The Gods Series
DAUGHTERS OF THE GODS - SERIES BUNDLE
BANISHED-GUARDIAN-FALLEN
About the Author
Tamara is an Australian author who grew up in an old mining town in country South Australia, where her love of history was founded. So much so, she made her darling husband travel to the UK for their honeymoon, where she dragged him from one historical monument and castle to another.
A mother of three, her two little gentleman in the making, a future lady (she hopes) and a part-time job keep her busy in the real world, but whenever she gets a moment’s peace she loves to write romance novels in an array of genres, including regency, medieval and time travel.
www.tamaragill.com
[email protected]