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Redeeming the Earl

Page 3

by Jenn Langston


  “You are a magnificent dancer.” Was that his voice? The rough, gravelly tone surprised him, and her too, judging by the lessening of her exuberance.

  “I love dancing,” she explained, red staining her cheeks.

  “Please don’t let me stop you.”

  Unfortunately, the light had dulled from her face and her movements. He mourned the loss. It wasn’t often he saw a woman enjoying herself so fully. Hoping to re-create the feeling, he determined not to talk for the remainder of the dance. To his disappointment, the silence and her avoidance only served to make the event interminable.

  When the song finally ended, he heaved a sigh of relief. “Would you care for a walk in the garden?” he asked, needing to amend any bad impressions she had of him.

  Her eyes were round as she gazed at him. Had she never been asked for a stroll? Or was it the rumors about him that brought out the response? He wanted to ask, but knew neither question would be appropriate.

  “I’m not sure, my lord. My mother—”

  “Surely would allow at least a walk on the terrace?”

  She nodded as if she didn’t trust herself to say the words of agreement. Her reluctance proved he would have more trouble convincing her to accept him than he originally thought. Especially if her mother couldn’t be easily influenced.

  Once they made it out of doors, he stepped up to the railing, allowing the cool air to fan his face. He took in a deep breath, enjoying the cleansing feeling permeating his lungs. The ton’s desire for balls never made sense to him.

  Looking over at Miss Doutree, he noticed her studying him. He took the opportunity to do the same of her. The moonlight illuminated her white-blonde hair and pale skin. In this setting, she looked more like a ghost than anything else. He hadn’t really noticed before, but she was strikingly beautiful.

  “Why have you not married?” He heard himself ask. What was wrong with him? Usually he kept a better reign on his mouth.

  Her eyes dropped as she shrugged her shoulders. “Fate has declared another purpose for me.”

  “Which is?”

  “I’ll let you know when I discover it.”

  “What if fate is simply waiting? Your ideal mate could be anywhere.”

  A hopeful expression passed through her eyes for a second before she masked it. That was what he needed to see. Her desire to marry would only work in his favor. Now he needed to convince her who her husband should be.

  “I’d never heard the Earl of Dunmore was a hopeless romantic.”

  He started at her inaccurate assessment of him. Romantic? Nothing but rubbish. The denial died on his tongue when he saw the way she looked at him. Instead, he shrugged.

  “I prefer the term honest.”

  “I’m beginning to understand how you managed to marry so many women.”

  Fighting the urge to react to the mention of the past, he kept his body rigid. Not many people were brave enough to talk so boldly to him. Could he live with that quality in a wife? Assessing her sturdy frame and innocent eyes, he imagined he could. For as long as it lasted.

  “Their decision belonged to each one of them. I coerced no one.”

  She smiled as she gently touched his arm. “I don’t doubt it. Do you want to know what I think?”

  Although he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her true thoughts, he nodded.

  “I think you are simply misunderstood. You are a good man.”

  Charles swallowed as he battled to keep his thoughts at bay. She was wrong. No good man married a woman knowing her death loomed in the near future. He was death for women. He knew it. The fact had been proven four times already.

  Could he chance that fate would be kinder to him a fifth time? He closed his eyes for a brief second. He couldn’t afford not to take the risk.

  “No, Rebecca,” Alex exclaimed as he thrust a hand through his hair while walking a hole in the carpet. “You don’t know him. Not only are you too trusting, but I’ve seen how your instincts have been wrong before.”

  “This is different,” she defended. “Besides, I refuse to give up now. We’ve established a good repartee and—”

  He stopped pacing and turned to face her. “Stop. If you’re questioning the belief that he didn’t kill his wives, then who did it? And don’t you dare say natural causes. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

  “Don’t dismiss it. Childbirth is dangerous. Especially out in the country. And there’s no telling what other perils could arise in the area. Or perhaps the doctor is incompetent.”

  The disbelieving look he shot her couldn’t be misinterpreted.

  Desperate not to lose the argument, she continued. “I’m not saying he didn’t kill them. We may in fact prove that he’s guilty. But what if he didn’t? Isn’t everyone owed the truth?”

  Alex ran his hands down his face. “What is this really about? Are you encouraging the earl’s attentions in order to discover the truth for your newssheet? I thought we agreed to forget about him.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “How dare you accuse me of offering false intentions? I am doing nothing of the sort. It’s true that I would welcome the opportunity to discover the reality about the scandal, but Lord Dunmore’s interest has not come about because of anything I’ve done. I’m merely suggesting we use it to our advantage.”

  Alex dropped his shoulders as he sank into the sofa beside her. “I’m sorry. I’m simply worried about you. About this.”

  “I know, but the earl has invited me to accompany him to Hyde Park, not to become his wife, or to murder me.”

  With a shake of his head, he snorted. “Again your innocence is showing. What begins as a small invitation may turn out to be much more.”

  Leaning back, she smiled at her youngest brother. His protectiveness made her feel special. Somewhere along the line, their roles had been reversed.

  “I am perfectly safe from Lord Dunmore. His request is nothing but a friendly gesture. I’ve looked into him enough to know I don’t hold the characteristics of what he wants in a wife. The other women were young, petite, and soft-spoken. We both know where I fall in those categories.”

  “All right. You win. But don’t discount yourself. It’s possible Dunmore took one look at you and decided to amend his previous preferences.”

  She laughed. “Somehow I doubt that. Men don’t change. You and I have seen it enough times not to question its validity.”

  “When is he coming to collect you?” Alex asked, ignoring her statement. “I can follow after you at a discreet distance and be prepared in the event of any trouble.”

  “He will arrive within the hour, and please don’t come. No harm will befall me in such a public place, and I can’t have him thinking I don’t trust him.”

  “I hope this is not brought about because of what Andrew said the other day.”

  Rebecca stiffened. The reminder of the conversation with her other brother still brought bile to her throat. She knew very well her position within the family, and didn’t need him to remind her.

  “No.” She looked away, finding it difficult to lie to her brother. “I don’t really listen when he talks to me. The fact that he is heir gives him the mistaken belief that he holds more power than he does.”

  “He may have Father’s ear, but he has nothing else.”

  “You’ve always been my favorite.” She gave him a wide smile.

  Alex mumbled something as his ears turned red and he ducked out the door, leaving her alone to wait in silence. The compliment always made him uncomfortable. She could never be sure why. It could have been due to a feeling of unworthiness, or from the fact her other brother didn’t seem to care for her at all.

  As the clock turned nearer to Lord Dunmore’s arrival, nerves engulfed her, taking away all other thoughts except the upcoming outing. Howe
ver, it wasn’t only fear. Something else tugged at her and made her palms sweat.

  Was it anticipation? She shouldn’t feel it, but recalling the rough sound of his voice did strange things to her. Although she didn’t understand his interest in her, she refused to deny herself the enjoyment of spending time in his company . . . from a safe distance.

  “Well, Rebecca,” her mother said as she glided into the room. “You shall get your way today. Your father is refusing to agree with me in this matter.”

  Rebecca sighed. “Are you not even the slightest bit pleased that a gentleman is showing interest in me? Or at the very least, curious as to his presence?”

  “Dearest, you don’t need to feel pressured or obligated to accept the earl’s attention simply because he’s offered it. There is no reason for you to settle for any man.”

  Unable to sit any longer, Rebecca got up and crossed the room. Her mother’s words bolstered her, although the truth of the matter weighed heavily on her. Andrew and her father had made their beliefs clear.

  “Don’t distress yourself, Mother. I am sure there is an innocuous reason for the invitation to Hyde Park. Besides, Father understands the reality of my situation.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Your father, albeit misguided, is doing what he believes is best. He shall see the truth soon enough.”

  Rebecca swallowed and did not respond. She didn’t want to talk about it any longer. The reason why her father wouldn’t deny her association with a four-time widower was because her unwed state put a strain on her family. Unfortunately, she could do nothing about it. Even if the earl had sought her out to win her, she wasn’t sure she could do right by her family.

  Lord Dunmore intrigued her, but the feeling only arose due to the mystery surrounding him. His handsome, innocent face and unnerving brown eyes had nothing to do with it.

  “My lady,” William called from the doorway. “Lord Charles Edwards, Earl of Dunmore, has arrived.”

  Luckily they were spared from awkward conversation as the earl seemed to be in a hurry to leave. Before long, she gazed out of the phaeton, enjoying the beautiful day and the sight of happy couples.

  “Do you often make the trek to Hyde Park?” Lord Dunmore asked, drawing her attention back to him.

  “As often as I can. What about you?”

  “This will be my first time.”

  She gasped. “First time? Well, you are certainly in for a treat.”

  “How so? What makes Hyde Park special? What makes you keep coming back?”

  “The park is a magical place. As it’s different every day, I never know what to expect.”

  One of his eyebrows rose as he observed her. “How is it possible for a park to change this frequently?”

  “Not the shrubberies and trees, but the stories. You never know what or who you will find. I do so enjoy stories. Either told, written, or seen. I could spend my life in a story.”

  A look of longing flashed across his face before he turned his attention back to the horses. “Sounds intriguing.”

  Twisting her body to the side, she leaned away so she could study his profile better. His gaze remained forward, but he clenched his jaw tight. The writer in her longed to know his thoughts.

  “What about you? What do you enjoy?”

  He glanced at her, disapproval in his eyes. “What kind of question is that?”

  “A simple one. What do you do for fun?”

  “I . . . I suppose I enjoy stories as well, upon occasion. It isn’t unusual for me to select a tome from my library and spend quite some time reading.”

  Her heart went out to him. His hesitation and response made it clear he didn’t take the time to simply enjoy living. Part of her wanted to help him find what he missed from life, while the other part wondered why she cared so much. After all, his previous wives could no longer find enjoyment either.

  “Then we have something in common.”

  Sadness lurked deep within him, of this she was certain. It shone through his eyes and saturated his very being. Perhaps because he’d suffered so much loss in such a short time. Or maybe he felt guilty to bask in life when so many others he cared for had gone.

  “We are here,” he said, breaking her thoughts. “Would you care to ride or walk?”

  “I’d love to walk.”

  She waited for him to assist her down from the phaeton, then they just stood there. Not sure what he wanted from her, she waited for him to escort her.

  “Where would you like to go?” He looked around as if the correct path would present itself.

  “That depends on your purpose.”

  She gently shook her head at his quizzical expression. During this outing his demeanor came across as unsure and uncomfortable. For once she wasn’t the innocent in the situation. Why did he put himself through this? What did he want from her?

  Then it hit her, and her breath caught. Had he discovered she was the author of the Unscandal Sheet? Not seeing any anger or any other indication on his face, she forced her body to relax. He seemed like the kind of man who would ask outright, not play games.

  “What do you mean?”

  Spinning around, she took in a deep breath, and let the last bit of tension leave her body. “The main path here is a great place to meet people and be seen by everyone. A stroll down this way will provide you with many stories, and in turn, give others your story.”

  “I see.”

  “Or you could veer off in this direction. More couples tend to use this path. You can have semi-private conversations, since most of the patrons are more focused on their own agenda. Then lastly, you have that way. I found the privacy to be true. It’s a great place to escape to by yourself.”

  He surveyed her, his eyes unreadable. “Which way do you want to go?”

  “You asked me out here, so this is your decision. What do you hope to get out of this outing?”

  Without responding, he took her arm and led her down the path where the couples strolled. She tried not to put too much thought into his choice. Clearly he wanted to speak with her. Nothing more.

  “The day couldn’t have been more perfect, don’t you think?” he asked, his tone conversational.

  Stealing a glance at him from the corner of her eyes, she tried to discern his purpose. Did he truly want to share in polite conversation? Curiosity burned inside her almost as much as her desire to discover the truth about him. Should she ask about his wives? She didn’t imagine he’d respond well to the question.

  “Yes, but as I mentioned earlier, it’s the stories that draw me here to Hyde Park. What’s your story?”

  He stopped walking and turned toward her, his handsome face unreadable. “My story?”

  “Everyone has a story, and I imagine there are a great number of things you could tell me about yours.”

  “Unlike your typical characters, I don’t wander around sharing mine.” He began walking again, this time faster than before.

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” She brushed off a leaf as it drifted down to her bodice while she hurried to keep up with him. “Can I at least be awarded with one small bit of your story?”

  His long sigh gave her more insight into his character than he previously offered. “You may ask one question. Then I will decide if I shall answer or not.”

  Now it was her turn to sigh. What should she ask? The wrong question would result in nothing, and she certainly didn’t want her opportunity to learn more about him to be wasted.

  “As much as I enjoy Hyde Park, I’m rarely invited for a stroll. Which makes me wonder why you asked me. So, what do you want of me?”

  They continued on in silence for so long she worried he wouldn’t answer. The strange thing was, the quiet only made her more interested in him. She wanted to learn the
truth of him, just as she did scandal after scandal. But it was more than just that.

  “I’m sorry to say I don’t have many friends. That very fact works against me as I seek out a bride.” He faced her and regarded her with a strange expression. “I hope to be able to call you a friend and obtain your help.”

  Although taken aback by his response, she kept her expression unchanged. Why did he need her help? She couldn’t find herself a husband, so she didn’t imagine her skills at finding someone a wife would be any better. A miniscule part of her also wondered why he didn’t consider her as an option. Not that she’d accept the suit of a reported murderer.

  Shaking off the thought, she flashed him a smile. “I’d be delighted, my lord.”

  “Thank you.” He returned her smile. “Perhaps with your assistance, I can find a bride within the next month or so.”

  She forced herself to maintain her expression. This new development could only be considered a good thing. After all, she needed to be as close to him as possible to discover the truth behind the scandal. So, why did she feel so upset about it?

  Chapter 3

  Charles stared unseeingly at the paper in his hand. His thoughts settled far away on a certain young lady. He couldn’t fathom what possessed him to ask her to help him find a bride. To date, he never shied away from asking a woman to wed him, so his hesitation now confounded him.

  With his new preferences, and a lack of options, he knew he could find no better than Miss Doutree, but something held him back. Was it her inability to keep her thoughts to herself? Her independent nature? Her deep, throaty voice that made him want to clear his?

  Or perhaps it was the strange way she made him feel.

 

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