Redeeming the Earl

by Jenn Langston

  “How dare you.” Red burned in her cheeks as fire shot from her eyes. “You hardly speak to me or look at me in over a month, and now you think you have a right to my time?”

  Lunging forward, he pulled her up from her chair to look directly in her eyes. “A right to your time? I have much more than that. I own all your time.”

  “And I see how little that means to you.”

  Little? She had no idea what she was talking about. He would have sacrificed any amount of money in that moment for the opportunity to show her how wrong she was. But he couldn’t. The price remained too high.

  His gaze fell to her lips. Just as plump and ripe as he remembered. They taunted him, begging him to partake in the pleasure of them. One more time. That was all he wanted. One more memory to sustain him in her absence.

  Unable to help himself, he lowered his mouth to hers. Instead of rejection, he was met with a hunger that rivaled his own. Immediately his body responded, and he pulled her tight against him. She was pure Heaven in his arms.

  Without taking the time to contemplate the consequences, he backed her up toward the bed as his hand undid her laces.

  He was a weak man. Weak and stupid.

  Rebecca woke up feeling better than she had in a long time. She and Charles had spent the evening and most of the night in each other’s arms. Considering her bed was empty now, he had disappeared sometime while she slept, but she couldn’t allow herself to worry over it. He had come to her after all.

  As she stretched and pulled herself out of bed, she could not keep the smile from her face. How was it that a bit of attention from her husband could make such a difference in her outlook on life? In her mind’s eye, she saw his smile that she held so dear. Her heart squeezed at the very thought of him.

  She loved him.

  Every part of her being screamed that very fact. As she thought over it, she realized she’d probably fallen in love with him even before they were wed. She couldn’t contain the happiness bubbling up inside of her and was anxious to see Charles this morning.

  By the time Anna came to help her get ready, Rebecca waited at the dressing table, having already brushed her hair out. With her newfound impatience, she didn’t want to waste a second before rejoining her husband.

  “Looks like you are feeling better,” Anna observed as she entered the room.

  “Yes, the slight sickness I experienced has passed, and I enjoyed a very good night’s sleep.”

  “That’s wonderful! I know Madam Hershal will also be pleased. She worries over you not sleeping properly.”

  Smiling, Rebecca turned her head so Anna could fix her hair. “I don’t think she really worries about much, but I appreciate the sentiment regardless. Please tell her I am much improved.”

  “She will be pleased to hear it. And now that you are in such a cheery mood, I can tell you my news.” Anna pulled out a blue ribbon that had been tucked into her dress. “Do you remember me telling you about Paul?”

  Rebecca tried to recall him. It had been a long time since she and her maid had engaged in pleasant conversation. Charles’s distance as well as the pregnancy had disrupted her life in more ways than the obvious.

  “The footman with the scar on his cheek?” Anna prodded.

  “Yes. I do remember you mentioning him.”

  “He gave me this last night. Said it belonged to his mother.” Anna’s voice took on a dreamy note.

  Turning around, Rebecca studied the necklace. A small heart had been strung on the ribbon, and it had been engraved with ‘LA.’ The piece appeared to be well loved. Rebecca wondered what it would feel like to have someone care for her so deeply that he would give her a family heirloom. She imagined she would never find out.

  “It’s beautiful. What does the engraving stand for?”

  Anna giggled as she began working on Rebecca’s hair again. “It was his mother’s initials, but when his father presented to her, he claimed it stood for ‘love always.’ And Paul gave it to me.”

  Although happy Anna had found someone who cared for her, Rebecca couldn’t shake the feeling of jealousy. Why couldn’t Charles love her like that? Once her maid left, she remained sitting in her room a bit longer, trying to contain her selfish emotions.

  Even her and Charles’s passion-filled night had not been brought about due to his feelings for her. No doubt he merely needed a release for his anger. One she gratefully provided for him.

  Standing up, she threw her shoulders back. She refused to sit here and mope when Charles waited out there for her. How would he act today? If matters between them had returned to normal, he’d be happy. Otherwise, she would see the irritated, aloof man she’d been living with these past weeks.

  With her mind lost in her thoughts, she continued on toward the stairs. When she lifted her foot to take the first step, the rug moved out from under her. She reached out to grab something as she toppled forward. Terror sliced through her chest while everything moved in slow motion.

  Desperate to save herself, she quickly flailed her arms to stop her descent down the stairs. Her body knocked around, shooting pain through her with every movement. She couldn’t comprehend anything except the agony until she landed, sprawled out directly on her stomach.

  Breathing heavy to ward off the discomfort in her body, she opened her eyes. A stab of pain ripped through her stomach, and she screamed, unable to contain the sensation within her.

  Instinctively, she curled her body up around the torment. She cried out again as she felt something warm spreading over her legs. Glancing down, she saw a crimson streak spreading over her skirts.

  Her eyes drifted closed, and then she saw nothing.

  Chapter 10

  Charles lifted a glass to his mouth with shaking hands. Careful not to spill, he gulped the brandy, allowing the burning sensation to permeate his body. Right now he needed its calming effects, which he was beginning to feel swimming in his head.

  The image of Rebecca lifelessly lying in a pool of blood resurfaced, causing him to pour another glass of the vile liquid. Why wouldn’t the picture fade? And where was that doctor?

  Although Madam Hershal assured him his wife would be fine, he needed more confirmation. Maybe then his mind would allow him to rest.

  To make matters worse, this was all his fault. Had he not joined her last night, she may have arisen earlier and would have been able to maneuver the steps without exhaustion clouding her mind.

  And she’d lost the baby.

  He set the glass down and covered his face with his hands. Although he hadn’t wanted any harm to befall Rebecca from the pregnancy, he had wanted that baby. His elusive heir. Why did he have to give into his needs last night and destroy everything?

  “My lord,” the doctor called from the open doorway. “May I join you?”

  Charles jumped up. “Yes. Come, take a seat. How is she?”

  After closing the door, the doctor did as requested and sat in the chair in front of Charles’s desk.

  “Lady Dunmore is fine. It is as that horrible witch woman claims. The countess has suffered from a miscarriage.”

  “Will she recover fully?” Charles asked, desperate to hear the exact words.

  “Yes. She will still be able to bear your children.”

  The thought of her going through any of this again made Charles’s stomach churn. Never would he allow that. He would have to stop himself from experiencing weak moments. Rebecca would live.

  “I’m relieved to hear it,” Charles said, not wanting the doctor to read his thoughts.

  The man swallowed loudly, casting a nervous glance around the room. “There is one more matter. Your wife claims she didn’t fall down the stairs.”

  “She is mistaken. We heard her descent and screams. That, followed by,” he gulped, “finding her at
the bottom of the stairs, provides evidence.”

  “You misunderstand, my lord. She claims it wasn’t an accident. That someone pushed her down the stairs.” The doctor’s stare became pointed.

  Charles froze. His vision became unfocused and the doctor’s form disappeared. Could this be what the whispered voices he’d overheard were talking about? Had someone tried to kill his wife?

  Breathing became difficult. Whoever it was, he had to stop them. To protect her. Due to their failure, she had a new chance at life, and he refused to risk it again. He’d seal her in a room if that’s what it took.

  “My lord?” The doctor’s voice called Charles back to himself. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Simply . . . startled by such a notion. I’ll speak with her. After all, women tend to overreact in times of stress.” Charles stood and clapped the doctor on the back as he followed suit. “We should be able to take care of everything now. You must come back later to check on my wife again.”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  Charles ushered the doctor out the door, then bounded up the stairs as quickly as his rubbery legs would allow. If someone threatened Rebecca, he’d be damned if he sat back, wallowing in alcohol, when she needed him.

  Not even bothering to knock, he rushed into her bedchamber. The room was somber, like a funeral. Seeing Rebecca lying in her bed with Madam Hershal and her maid hovering over her made fear rip through his chest. He’d almost lost her. Her life was too frail, and he could hardly breathe with the thought of what might have happened.

  At the sound of the door closing, all eyes trained on him. However, to his surprise, no one budged from their protective positions.

  “Leave us,” he commanded, amazed his voice emerged with as much strength.

  The maid glanced at him, then at Madam Hershal. Anger seeped into his inebriated brain. They had no right to keep him from his wife. He opened his mouth to tell them just that, but stopped when Madam Hershal lifted her hand out to him, palm down.

  She closed her eyes for a second before training her icy stare on him. “Of course, my lord. Anna and I shall leave you to attend to our countess.”

  As the women left, he debated demanding an explanation for their behavior, then decided against it. Not only had they left him alone with Rebecca, but he had no desire to frighten her.

  Focusing his gaze on his wife, he didn’t like the look of the purple splotches across her cheeks, nor did he like the concern marring her brow.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked as he drew nearer to the bed.

  “Not well.” Her voice emerged weak. “I’ve lost our child.”

  The tears in her voice shot a stab of pain through him. He could tell how much she had wanted the baby. A large part of him wished he could promise another. That he could give her anything she desired. But he couldn’t.

  “The doctor told me.” He sat down by her feet and touched her blanketed leg. “Can you tell me what happened? What did you see?”

  Her eyes dropped down to her folded hands. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “The doctor said you were pushed down the stairs. Did you see who did it?” Charles’s fear rose up in his throat. The thought of one of his staff hurting Rebecca made him see red.

  Her gaze snapped to him. “I wasn’t pushed. You see, there was a new rug on the top of the stairs and—”

  “A rug?” Leaving his spot on the bed, he began to pace the room. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I noticed it because it didn’t belong. Someone put it there, and when I stepped on it, they pulled it out from under me.”

  “Did you see who did it?” he demanded, more forcefully this time.

  “No. I didn’t have a chance to look around.”

  He let out a sigh as he stopped and looked at his wife. Her eyes were wide with fear. He hated it. Not only did they have nothing to help lead them to the culprit, but Rebecca was terrified. He would protect her, but he couldn’t allow her to live in fear for her life.

  “Could it be that your momentum caused the rug to move? An accident caused by the new rug, which I will have immediately removed.”

  “An accident? But I felt—”

  “You said it yourself. You felt the rug move, which very well could have been done by you.”

  Although she didn’t look convinced, he could see submission on her face. Now he only needed to get that rug and discover who placed it there. If he could find who was responsible, Rebecca would be safe from that threat.

  “You are right. That must be what happened.”

  “Glad to have settled that. Now would you like me to stay with you, or send for the maid?”

  “I’m fine,” she quietly replied. “I’d actually like to sleep right now. My head pains me greatly.”

  He nodded, feeling like an ass for not thinking of her discomfort. “I’ll send the housekeeper in with some laudanum for you.”

  “That won’t be—”

  Holding up his hand, he stopped her argument. “You need your rest.”

  With that, he left her bedchamber and headed directly for the stairs. He stopped at the edge and looked around. There was no sign of a rug.

  “Are you sure?” Rebecca asked the housekeeper in a small voice. “No chance that anyone could have moved the rugs around? Maybe to clean them?”

  Mrs. Callie smiled, sympathy shining in her eyes. “I’m afraid there have been no new rugs in the house, and we are not in the practice of removing them from the rooms where they have been placed.”

  Rebecca’s heart sank. “Thank you.”

  “May I ask what this is about? If you would like a new rug, I’m sure the earl would be happy to oblige.”

  “Nothing like that,” Rebecca assured, hoping the woman wouldn’t tell her husband of this conversation. “I simply wondered about the . . . procedures regarding the carpets.”

  “Don’t you worry, my lady. We will take care of any stain in your bedchamber. No one will be the wiser.”

  “I appreciate it,” Rebecca intoned before leaving the room.

  She was content to allow Mrs. Callie to believe she’d marred the carpet in her room over the truth. Clearly news of the rug hadn’t been spread about regarding her fall last week. Only Charles had known. Bile rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down. She refused to allow any suspicion about him into her mind. Unfortunately, whether she allowed it or not, suspicion still remained.

  She could still hear the relief in his sigh when she told him she hadn’t seen her attacker. Could see the determination in his eyes when he tried to convince her the fall had been an accident. And his anger when he entered the room had been palpable.

  Had he given his other wives one last night of bliss before he tried to kill them too? Leaning up against the wall, she covered her face with her hands. She beat down the thought. Charles was innocent of their deaths, and he had nothing to do with her accident.

  “My lady,” Sylvia said, appearing at Rebecca’s side. “Are you all right? Please let me help you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Rebecca allowed the woman to assist her to the drawing room. Her body still ached from her fall, and the possibility of someone wanting to harm her made her nerves stand on end.

  “Tell me what is wrong,” Sylvia insisted after they settled on the sofa.

  “I’m simply tired. My body hasn’t recovered as of yet.”

  “Of course not. You should have remained in bed like I instructed. You are becoming one of my most difficult patients.”

  The reminder of Sylvia’s profession brought a stab of pain to Rebecca’s chest. She no longer had a need for a midwife. She wasn’t even sure if she would ever need one again.

  Charles needed an heir, but he made no mention or sign th
at he intended to resume his duty. As a matter of fact, he’d been acting so strange lately, she wasn’t even sure she wanted him to. Mentally, she shook her head. That wasn’t true. She still loved him. So much that the thought of him not being who she believed him to be stung worse than any bee sting she’d endured.

  “As I’m sure you recall, my husband and I no longer need your services.” She couldn’t stop the tears from cascading down her cheeks. “You may return to London.”

  “Calm down.” Sylvia pulled her into her arms as the tears continued. The woman began to sing a soothing but strange song as she gently rocked. Feeling comforted, Rebecca’s tears quickly dried up.

  “I don’t know what I shall do without you,” Rebecca admitted as she righted herself.

  “Don’t worry. You will not have to find out anytime soon,” Sylvia said in her comforting voice.

  “What do you mean?” Hope clutched Rebecca’s heart.

  Musical laughter filled the room. “I promised Lord Dunmore I would bring your child into the world while keeping you healthy. I intend to remain until I have fulfilled that duty.”

  “But I’m not with child anymore.”

  “You will be. One day everything will become what it should.”

  Knowing the woman couldn’t promise such a thing didn’t stop the faith from consuming Rebecca’s mind. Perhaps Charles would return to the man he had been after their wedding. Then they could rediscover each other and one day have their child.

  The painted picture seemed too perfect. Even in her mind, the darkness intruded. Had the man she loved killed his wives? Would he kill her next?