Holding himself back from rolling his eyes, Charles tapped his fingers on the tabletop. Light conversation wasn’t something he enjoyed nor something he excelled at. Part of him wanted to get up and leave.
“Prinny isn’t what brought me here. I’m looking for a bride.”
Doutree’s chin lowered. “Another one? Why would you want another one?”
With gritted teeth, Charles pressed his fingertips against the table, watching as they turned white. “Why do you want another woman to warm your bed?”
To his surprise, Doutree burst out laughing. “You know what, Dunmore? I’ve decided to like you.” He stood. “I hear a waltz, and I’ve promised the dance to a dear lady, but why don’t you meet me at the club, Ravenhurst, tomorrow evening? I’d love the chance to become better acquainted.”
Giving a slight bow, Charles agreed. He didn’t have many friends, so he refused to shun the opportunity to make another one. In addition, Doutree was young and appeared comfortable with the ladies. Both traits would work to Charles’s advantage.
Venturing back into the ballroom, he saw Doutree standing off to one corner. Unlike his attitude in the card room, he had a stern look on his face as he surveyed the crowd. Where was the lady he ran off to dance with? Had he lied about her? Curious.
Charles made his way over to the stoic young man, determined to discover the answer to his question. As he neared Doutree, Charles slowed. Something didn’t seem right. He could be mistaken, but he didn’t recall Doutree’s waistcoat being that shade of green. How could he have changed so quickly? Upon further inspection, Charles realized it wasn’t the same man. He stopped his forward momentum. Doutree had a twin.
Studying the new Doutree closely, Charles committed the slight differences to memory. He would not make that mistake twice.
The next day as he sat in his study with his nephew, a vision of clear blue eyes filled his mind. He wondered again what sparked the interest of the lady from the ball.
“Do you have to look through every invoice?” Francis tossed the paper on the desk, leaned back, and covered his eyes with his hand.
Charles picked up the discarded paper and scanned over the neatly penned expenses. “Of course. Otherwise, how would one know if you were being cheated?”
“You have so much money. Spending a few extra shillings for supplies won’t make a difference.”
Giving the twenty-year-old a stern look, Charles willed him to understand. “If I’d done such for all these years, do you suppose I would have so much now? A shilling here and there adds up in the end.”
The boy shrugged and selected another sheet and reviewed it. Although Charles cared for him, he wished it was his own child he groomed to be earl, not his sister’s. She had the luxury of having four children. His sister was twelve years his senior, but she had her first at age nineteen. Charles couldn’t even boast one at twenty-seven.
When he looked up, he noticed Francis studying him. “Yes?”
“Mother said you came to London to find another wife. If that’s the case, why train me? You’ll have an heir soon enough.”
Charles laughed, a bitter sound. “Neither one of those are as easy as you would think.”
“But those other ladies you wed were sick or something. This time could you pick someone who isn’t? Look at Mother. She even outlived my father.”
His previous wives hadn’t been sick. However, Francis’s observation held merit. This time Charles decided he shouldn’t seek out a petite debutante as he’d done in the past. Someone older, perhaps with a sturdier build, might suit his purpose better.
The line of thought brought the lady from the last night back to his mind. Who was she? What interest did she have in him? And, most importantly, would she want to become his fifth wife?
“Rebecca, stop tugging on the button. You are going to rip it off,” her mother scolded as they stood at the fringes of the dance floor.
With a sigh, Rebecca dropped her arms to her sides and tried to remain still. The skill had been something difficult for her to achieve since a small bit of movement helped to pass the time.
Scanning the room, she tried to find something else to occupy her attention. The ball, like many others she’d attended, was overcrowded with smiling couples, hopeful young men, and lonely ladies. The scene presented nothing new. The event needed some type of spark or excitement.
Then she saw him.
The Earl of Dunmore interested her more than he should. He moved through the crowd with ease, as if he owned the world. While the mothers turned from him, Rebecca could see how the daughters instinctively watched. After making eye contact at the last ball, she had secretly hoped to see him again tonight.
What was it about the man? The power of his presence? His handsome face and perfect build? Or could it be the scandal attracting them? For her, the latter piqued her interest more than the others could.
As her eyes met his, Rebecca sucked in a breath. He didn’t glance away or smile, simply caught her in the intensity of his gaze. The feeling that he could see right through her brought discomfort, so she broke the contact and resisted the urge to shudder.
Considering he didn’t speak to anyone besides offering cursory greetings, she wondered how she would ever get information about his deceased wives. Speaking to the man himself seemed too dangerous.
Catching the first few notes of a waltz, Rebecca set her musings aside and went toward the dance floor to search for Alex. Dance partners for her were few, and she loved to waltz, so her youngest brother typically obliged her.
As she scanned the edges of the room, she didn’t see Alex. Unwilling to accept missing the dance, she moved further into the crowd.
“If you’re looking for your suitor, he’s already obtained a partner for this waltz.”
Rebecca froze at the familiar deep voice. Spinning around slowly, she wasn’t surprised to see Lord Dunmore standing behind her. Her voice stuck in her throat as nerves engulfed her.
“You should be grateful for his inattention,” he continued. “A third dance with the young man would only hurt your reputation without a betrothal soon following.”
An unexpected smile threatened to touch her lips. Had he been watching her? The thought didn’t bother her like she knew it should. Normally no one paid enough attention to her to notice which twin she danced with.
“You are mistaken, my lord,” she replied in her practiced modulated tone. “You see, I have only shared one dance with him. For the other I partnered his brother.”
To her surprise, the earl shook his head. “You may enjoy fooling Society, but I’ve never been one to overlook details.”
The penetrating look in his eyes made her swallow. What had she done to become the focus of such attention? Did he know it was she who met with him for the Unscandal Sheet?
He smiled. The light it brought to his face caused a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. His ability to locate so many women and marry them no longer surprised her. A few smiles surely did all the convincing for him.
“I only thought to offer myself as an option. That is, if your young man has no objection to supplying an introduction.”
Shock held her immobile, her eyes wide. After suffering through five Seasons, she’d stopped expecting offers. How could she refuse? Not only did he provide her with the ability to dance, which she dearly loved, but also an opportunity to discover more about him. For once, fate was being kind. Or was she?
Unable to do more than nod, she watched as he bowed and left her. As she made her way back to her mother, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him.
“Rebecca,” her mother exclaimed, grabbing her attention. “Lady Minor said she saw you talking to the Earl of Dunmore. Is that true?”
“She would do better to keep her mind on her own business.”
“Don’t s
ay such things. She came to me out of concern for your safety.”
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Rebecca let out a breath. She knew the woman felt no such thing. Maintaining eye contact with her mother, she contemplated her dilemma. She had to change her mother’s opinion on the earl if she were to have any chance of obtaining information about him. After all, she had no doubt her brother would accept Lord Dunmore’s request for an introduction, whether he wanted to or not.
“My safety isn’t in question simply from sharing a conversation with him. Not only are we in a crowded ballroom, but the earl holds the Prince Regent’s approval. That fact alone gives us reason to respect him, not shun him.”
Her mother’s lips pinched as her eyebrows turned downward. “You’re right, of course, but I don’t like it. You must simply dissuade him from wanting a further acquaintanceship.”
With a sigh of relief, Rebecca nodded. “Certainly, Mother.”
When the last notes of the waltz rang in the room, her eyes sought Alex. True to his word, Lord Dunmore wasted no time in hurrying to her brother’s side. After exchanging a few words, Alex led the way over to her. He didn’t look happy, but she didn’t care. She would become as close to the earl as possible to ferret out his secrets.
“Mother.” Alex took a deep breath. “Please allow me to present Charles Edwards, the Earl of Dunmore. Dunmore, this is my mother, Lady Victoria Doutree, Viscountess Burford, and my sister, Miss Rebecca Doutree.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” her mother uttered in her false voice while offering a brief curtsy.
“I assure you, the pleasure is entirely mine.” The earl turned his eyes to Rebecca. “Miss Doutree, would you do me the great honor of a dance?”
Not wanting to disappoint her mother, she glanced down at her empty dance card as if to ascertain whether she could fit him in or not.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” her mother interjected without waiting for Rebecca to respond. “I regret to tell you we were about to quit the night.”
He nodded. “Perhaps another time then.”
“I look forward to it,” Rebecca responded before her mother could deny him again.
As he walked away, Rebecca’s eyes followed him even as her mother began to lecture her and Alex.
From across the room, Lord Dunmore turned and smiled at her. The sight brought a fluttering to her stomach. What could he be thinking? How had she gained his attention when her plain features and high voice had kept so many others away these past years?
She shook off the thought. It didn’t matter. His attention wasn’t what she wanted. Only the truth. Once she had that, she would have no other use for him. Regardless of how much he intrigued her.
Chapter 2
“Honestly, Charles, I don’t know why you even bother.” Gloria Jenkins, Baroness Shalley, ran her finger along the length of her glass as she lifted one eyebrow at him.
Charles gritted his teeth as he leaned back in his chair. If they hadn’t become close after her sister, his first wife, died, he wouldn’t put up with her audacity. It wasn’t that he didn’t welcome her visit as a friend, but he didn’t appreciate being questioned in his own home. Again.
“And as I have told you many times, I need an heir.”
She shook her head as if his motivation screamed of childishness. “My husband at one time felt as you do. However, once he accepted that I couldn’t produce any children, his life became happier. More meaningful. Besides, his cousin has taken wonderful care of me and the title.”
“My situation is different. Lord Shalley could do nothing to improve his situation. I have no wife. I have options.”
The drive to obtain an heir of his own loin wasn’t something he could easily explain. Hearing the disdainful tone his father used as he constantly berated Charles came back to him in every aspect of his life. It was that voice driving him to do better. To amass more money. To surpass his father in every way. Charles refused to accept defeat. The late Earl of Dunmore had wanted his line to continue through Charles. And it would.
As Gloria lifted the glass to her lips, she shrugged her delicate shoulders. “If only Miranda could’ve handled the babe. Our mother always told her she was much too small.”
Keeping his jaw locked into place, Charles nodded. He didn’t like to talk about his wives, and particularly not Miranda. “Your sister could do nothing about her slight frame. Now, enough about me. Tell me what brings you to London.”
“The Season. It’s been a long time since I’ve allowed myself the pleasure of it, and I imagine you could use a friend.”
“Thank you.” He allowed a smile at her generosity. Although nosy to a fault, he knew Gloria always held his best interests at heart. It was a pity she couldn’t bear children. Charles imagined she would make any nobleman a good wife.
Thoughts of marriage brought Miss Doutree to his mind. After being avoided by the majority of the ton, her interest came as a welcome change. He only needed to keep her close and marry her before she thought too much on the subject. With any luck he would have a son within the year. If she lasted that long.
“Don’t think this decision came about mostly on your behalf. I have selfish reasons to be in London.”
“I’m not concerned with that. However, since you are here, I can oblige you by offering an escort if you require one.”
“How can I refuse such a gallant offer? I would be honored by your presence.”
That very evening Charles regretted his rash offer, and to date, he hadn’t regretted much in his life. Despite Gloria’s claims of wanting to enjoy the Season, she seemed afraid of it. Or perhaps she was afraid for him. Regardless, the woman never removed her arm from his.
“Your young friend seems to be great fun,” she observed as Doutree parted their company.
“He seems a good sort. You might want to reconsider your rejection of a dance. Considering you and I have already reached our limit, you should entertain someone else.”
A tight smile stretched her lips. “Perhaps I shall. He moves with grace. I imagine he’ll do nicely.”
Charles took in the man’s confident gait. The effect Doutree had on the ladies he passed hadn’t escaped Charles’s notice. Over their few meetings, Charles had decided he liked the arrogant youth. In addition, his friendship could prove to be useful.
The only failing Doutree seemed to have came from his reluctance to speak about his sister. At any mention of her, the man conveniently changed the subject. Desperate to know more of the woman, Charles sought her out with his eyes.
As usual, she stood at the edge of the dance floor gently swaying to the music. Her slight movements combined with the longing on her face ensnared him. Why wasn’t she dancing with someone? Did no other man look upon her and become entranced?
He mentally shook himself. It mattered not to him what she did or whether she danced or not. Actually, her lack of suitors worked to his advantage. After all, she couldn’t exactly afford to be selective.
When the current song drew to a close, he decided not to let Gloria’s presence keep him from securing Miss Doutree’s interest.
“Is there somewhere you would like me to escort you?” he asked. “I promised a young lady a dance tonight, and I have delayed long enough.”
Her wide eyes snapped to him. “You move quickly, don’t you? The Season has just begun.”
“I hardly think a dance could be so impactful, but one can hold on to the hope.”
She swallowed, then turned away. “Leave me with Lord Meadows. I’ve always found him to be . . . amusing.”
Relief washed through him as he deposited her with the viscount and made his way over to the object of his thoughts.
“Good evening, Miss Doutree.”
She jumped and turned her startled eyes on him. “Lord Dunmore, I didn’t se
e you approach.”
“Moving in silence can prove to be useful from time to time.”
Curiosity glittered in her eyes as she cocked her head to the side. “Do you enjoy scaring people? Or do you enjoy being a shadow?”
“Such questions.” He shook his head. “And here I came to request your next dance.”
She lowered her eyes. “I apologize, my lord. Sometimes my mouth gets away from me.”
Her words brought his attention to her lips. Her teeth held on to the delicate pink flesh. Did she do so to keep her comments from spilling out? He wondered what other secrets those lips held. Surprised by his thoughts, he drew his gaze away. This wasn’t going as planned. They should have been dancing right now instead of watching the couples taking part in their missed opportunity.
“Then perhaps we can begin anew,” he suggested.
Immediately her lip was released from its confines as a smile spread across her face. “You aren’t exactly what I expected, but I would love to begin again.”
Although he wanted to ask what she’d expected of him, he nodded. “Good evening, Miss Doutree. Would you honor me with your next dance?”
“Of course, my lord.”
Considering the current dance hadn’t reached its conclusion, Charles knew he should depart from her now, but instead he waited. Why was he reluctant to leave her side? Awkwardness stretched.
The following song was a waltz. The fact seemed significant in a way. Or perhaps a bad omen. As a rule, he didn’t indulge in the dance. Sharing such a level of contact in front of so many others struck him as indecent.
With a tight smile, he drew Miss Doutree into his arms and moved with the music. To his delight, he noticed how skilled she maneuvered the steps. The swaying of her body brought a whole new dimension to the waltz. He wanted to dislike it. To be repulsed by the sensuous movements and the pleasure in her face, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want the song to end.
Redeeming the Earl Page 2