Earl of Shefford: Noble Hearts Series: Book Three (Wicked Earls Book 28)

by St. Claire, Anna

  “I plan to spend time here and see how an orphanage—this orphanage—operates. I wish to understand more,” he finally said. “Will you allow it?”

  “Did… did you mean what you said, then? Your proposal—the one you presented before you made your declaration of marriage?” she asked. Her voice was barely audible. She could tell, before he said a word, that he had meant it.

  He nodded.

  Regret stirred throughout her body. She had barely listened to him and had snubbed him whenever he had tried to speak. Yet, his tone had remained that of a gentleman. Have I misjudged him?

  “I-I rather liked it,” she admitted with a little more voice, feeling heat rise in her cheeks.

  “You have me at a disadvantage. What did you like?” he asked.

  “Your kiss,” she murmured. The heat scorched her face at her brazen words. She lifted her chin and met his gaze, refusing to be missish. “If truth be known, sir, I enjoyed your kiss very much.” What was it about this man? It was as if her mouth said things without her brain’s permission. She craved his closeness. Why was one taste not enough? She had worked herself into a lather over his winning the building, and because of that, had tried her best not to pay him any heed. To make matters worse, she had felt forced into an impossible position because of the man who threatened Amy. Having a gentleman to take care of her made sense, and while she was not in disagreement with her decision, it went against all she had thought she desired.

  “Perhaps we should talk,” he prompted.

  “I presume you mean about our engagement?” Her brazenness stunned her — yet, there were questions that needed answers. What kind of marriage would theirs be? She wanted to know what he expected but was unsure how to broach the subject.

  “Yes, although there is more we should discuss than just that. Would you consent to accompanying me on a drive in the Park tomorrow? I could take you up at ten of the clock.”

  A lump had formed in her throat and her voice rasped when she spoke. “Very well,” she answered simply.

  He inclined his dark head and a smile creased his face. “It is arranged. Now, tell me everything you know about this Mr. Sneed. We need to look into this matter. And I would very much like to meet the other twelve children.”

  She studied his face and was sure a look of incredulity must have stolen across her own.

  “You are sincere! You would help me, even after I ignored everything you said earlier?”

  He chuckled. “You did do that,” he said, a meaningful look in his eyes. “However, I never offer anything which I do not wish to give.” He edged nearer.

  She sensed he was as surprised by his offer as she had been. I never offer anything which I do not wish to give. His words played over in her head and gave rise to that peculiar burst of excitement fluttering deep within her stomach. Nora looked up and saw only his lips as they unexpectedly claimed her own.

  This time, their kiss was softer. As he pulled her close, she relaxed into it immediately. A tingling sensation shot across her arms and down her neck to her toes.

  His hands encircled her waist and drew her even nearer, as his tongue gently swirled about the warm caverns of her mouth. Entranced, she fingered the waves of his hair. His caresses stirred feelings she had never known. Was this desire?

  “You smell delicious. Is that honeysuckle?” he murmured, capturing her earlobe with his teeth. Then, nuzzling her neck, he dusted kisses along her collarbone.

  Nora started to speak but was immediately lost in the sensations aroused by his kisses along the neck of her gown. Time stood still, until rapid steps in the hall awoke her senses, reminding her where she was.

  “Yes… oh good heavens!” Nora drew a quick breath. “I confess, I find myself muddled by your nearness, sir. My good sense seems to have left me,” she said. Her hands slipped from his shoulders and she stepped away.

  The door opened, and Mrs. Simpkins hesitantly stepped inside. “Miss Mason, we have a situation.”

  “A situation? Whatever has happened?” Her face crinkled in concern, she briefly regarded Lord Shefford.

  Mrs. Simpkins wrung her hands. “Miss Mason, I apologize for the interruption. That man is back.”

  “He is here, now?” Lord Shefford demanded as his eyebrows shot up.

  “Aye,” she said in a tremulous voice.

  “Can you point him out to me?” he persisted.

  “I saw him, m’own self, m’lord, staring at me from outside the kitchen window. His face were pressed to the glass. Right fierce it were.” Mrs. Simpkins waved her hands and then nervously wiped them on her skirt and anxiously led them towards the dimly lit kitchen. “I was about to start the ovens for supper. Something made me look up… and there he were. A big, ugly fellow he was, sir.” She pointed with a shaking hand towards the offending window. “It near frightened me to death. Soon as he saw I’d seen him, the ugly rascal ran towards the woodshed, over there by the big elm tree. I dropped me soup pot and all me beans went everywhere,” she lamented.

  Lord Shefford glanced at Nora, before walking to the back door and opening it. “I do not see him. Where did you say he was standing?”

  Mrs. Simpkins hesitantly stepped towards the window and peered outside. “He was right there… I don’t see him now, my lord,” she whispered. “He was so close he could see me own icy breath in this room, and I could see his.” She leaned down and unsteadily picked up her soup pot and placed it in the sink.

  “Could you more fully describe him to me, Mrs. Simpkins?” Lord Shefford asked, his voice soothing.

  “M’lord, he was tall and looked cruel. His hair was dark, and I think his eyes are black. Big black eyes they looked.” She puffed out a tremulous breath before continuing, “His face has pimply scars and a black moustache.”

  Lord Shefford stepped back inside the room, looking around. “I believe you, Mrs. Simpkins. Where is Woods?”

  “I expect he has gone back upstairs to work on the classrooms.” Nora spoke up.

  “I came straight away to find you, Miss Mason,” the housekeeper added.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Simpkins. I will see what can be done. Please fetch Woods and ask him to look around the premises. Do as Miss Mason suggests and keep the children within sight.” He turned to Nora. “Unless I am wrong, this man has determined that the orphanage offers more than one opportunity. I know the fear you feel is for little Amy. However, I would suggest you treat all the children as if they are in danger. I think you are safe for now.”

  Luckily, the younger children were taking a nap and the older ones were practicing their letters, so she did not have to worry about their whereabouts. Saying nary a word, Nora listened cautiously. Lord Shefford had become protective. He cares. There was still so much that she needed to ask him, but the orphanage and the children were vastly more important to her. She bit her lip and inclined her head, refusing to allow her own nerves to show.

  “There are things I can do to help. Nevertheless, there is only so much I can do while here. Although I need to leave, I will return. Might I have a few moments of your time before I go, Miss Mason?”

  She turned to Mrs. Simpkins. “Please make sure the latches on the doors and windows in the kitchen are fastened securely. Keep the light down. I will come down shortly, to assist you.”

  “Yes, Miss Mason.”

  Nora did not miss the small iron frying pan the cook held within her skirts. Barely holding in an inopportune giggle, she remarked:

  “I can see you are well-armed.”

  “Yes, ma’am. The man looked like the Devil himself, with eyes black as coal. I don’t intend to let him near our little Amy.”

  “I am certain you will acquit yourself well with the frying pan, should the challenge present itself,” Nora responded, her voice as solemn as she could muster. “I will accompany Lord Shefford to the door.”

  She and Lord Shefford walked in silence to the front entrance.

  “I plan to return later with more men, Miss Mason.” His ey
es glimmered, challenging and teasing her. “And I would like to meet the other children.”

  She nodded, unable to speak and suddenly unsure of what to say.

  “I would ask that you call me Colin, as we are now betrothed,” he added, leaning closer.

  Nora worried her bottom lip. The man’s nearness excited and flustered her. Shyness gripped her throat as she struggled to speak.

  “You may call me Nora… Colin,” she said, looking into his eyes. Would he kiss her? She hoped so.

  He leaned forward, but just as quickly, pulled back again. An easy smile spread across his handsome features.

  “I am sincere about my offer. May we speak of it tomorrow?”

  “I would like that.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew the note she had placed there in what now, seemed an eon ago. “Here. Take this with you. It is the note we received this morning, about Mr. Sneed. You may need it.” I trust him. She could not have imagined such a thing only a day ago—or even this morning. Truthfully, no one could have imagined any of this. “Thank you.”

  He placed the note in his pocket and tugged her closer. “This is a different side to you,” he observed. “I enjoyed the fiery side, but this new side is nice. I find I want to know you better.” His eyes blazed down at her. “I would like to kiss you once more.”

  She could not resist and softly lifted onto her toes, moving her arms about his neck as his mouth covered hers. A now familiar flutter shot down her spine to her center, eliciting a small shiver.

  “Are you cold?” he murmured, his lips hovering above hers.

  She gave a slight shake to her head, her eyes fixed on his. “This is the warmest I have ever felt in my life,” she whispered.

  Chapter 11

  Colin took the steps to his front door two at a time. Franklin opened the door for him to pass through and accepted his gloves, hat, and cape as he entered.

  “My lord, Lord Bergen awaits you in your study. He has just arrived,” the retainer said.

  “Thank you, Franklin.” Colin turned. “Please send a footman to my study. Send Davis. I have a task which needs to be done quickly. Wait,” he interrupted himself. “Send Davis and two more footmen.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The retainer bowed. “At once.”

  His mother’s laughter tinkled from upstairs and Colin shook his head as he hurried to his study. He would never tire of the sound of her laugh. It warmed him. Mother would dearly love the tangle he had just created for himself, he knew, yet he had no plans to tell her. Wisdom dictated he first accept it himself. Try as he might, he could not regret it. Swiftly walking into the room, he moved behind his desk and picking up the decanter of brandy from the library table, poured himself a healthy measure. He swallowed it when he heard Bergen’s voice behind him.

  “What has given you such a thirst?” he asked with dry humor.

  He turned slowly, a smile stretched across his face. I walked right past him. How did I miss him? Franklin had mentioned Bergen was here, yet with his own preoccupation, Colin had forgotten—in the space of a few strides!

  “I came to see how you were progressing. I was on my way to the club and waited for you,” his friend said, his voice full of mirth. “You look as if your attention is elsewhere.”

  “Damnation! I cannot go with you. This day has not gone as I would ever have imagined.” He picked up a second glass from the silver tray and poured a generous amount for his friend, passing it to him as he refilled his own. “Congratulate me, Bergen. I should get this over with.”

  “Congratulate you?” Bergen raised an eyebrow in amusement. “You had my full attention at damnation. I am listening.” His eyes glittered with enjoyment as he raised his glass and took a small sip.

  “I should start from the beginning. However, I do not have time; and I need your help,” Colin responded. “I am engaged. I also need to hire a good Bow Street Runner.”

  Bergen spat out a small amount of the brandy as he struggled to sit up straight. “Wait! Who? What? Can we go back to the beginning?”

  “Miss Mason…” Colin started before breaking off, certain of the ridicule he would suffer.

  “How did that happen?” Bergen sniggered.

  “Hush! Mother is upstairs. I have no wish to have her join this discussion.” Colin felt heat rise past his ears.

  “Hear what, my son?” A swish of silks and taffeta accompanied her query as his mother glided in and took the chair in front of his desk. “Thomas, I was unaware you were here. It’s always good to see, you, my dear. Did I hear you say Miss Mason’s name?”

  He was well and truly caught, mired in mud up to his waist with nowhere to go.

  “Mother. To what do I have the pleasure?” he asked politely.

  “Whisht! Do not distract me. I wish to hear more about Miss Mason.” She waved at him. “Tell us at once.”

  He turned away, unwilling to watch their faces. This was not like him. Hell! This day had been like no other he could recall. To top it off, he felt a burning need to return to the orphanage. “I asked Miss Mason to marry me,” he said in a low voice, turning slowly. Two shocked faces stared back, both gaping rudely. The silence was deafening.

  “You appear displeased, Mother,” he quipped. “I thought you, of all people, would be happy.” His tone was sarcastic and at once was ashamed. Mother did not merit that.

  She walked to him and hugged him, her arms about his neck. “I am thrilled. However, I am rather taken aback. When did this happen?”

  “I apologize for my tone, Mother. There was no need for that.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I am as eager to review the details as you are to hear them. Yet I beg you will allow me to do that later. My… b… betrothed…” He stumbled over the word before moving on. “…is in trouble and I need to assist her.” Clearly, becoming accustomed to his new circumstance would take time.

  “This was a ‘gallant knight’ type of engagement then, was it?” his mother said, her expression radiating pleasure. “I rather like it. There are so many possibilities.”

  Colin turned to Bergen, who still sat in stunned silence. “I can see I must say more.” He sipped his brandy, hoping for fortification. “I was trying to carry out the Countess’ wishes in order to gain my winnings. Miss Mason was not compliant. We argued, and the next thing I knew, I had proposed. She accepted before I even comprehended my words.”

  “Whew!” Bergen whistled. “I would never have guessed such a turn of events. You have won yourself a beautiful lady with a brain to boot. You shall never be bored.” Now grinning widely, he returned his drink to the tray and stood up. “I offer my heartiest congratulations,” he said, extending his hand. “Did she run?”

  “Is that why you need the Bow Street Runners?” his mother enquired in a neutral tone.

  “I suppose you both think yourselves very funny.” His mother and Nora shared a quick humor. “You should enjoy Nora’s wit. I find her verbal sparring very attractive.” Colin realized his affliction today, for saying things unchecked by his brain, was continuing. But strangely, he realized he liked the sound of her name on his tongue and acknowledged a warm feeling he felt when he thought of her. “There is danger afoot, and I need to return to Nora and the children. A man is trying to claim one of the smallest children, whose mother passed away in a drugs den. The child is but a toddler. He is watching the orphanage. The household servants have reported seeing him twice. I want to protect them and find this villain.”

  “Good God, man! Trouble continually follows that bet with Whitton,” Bergen exclaimed.

  Thankfully, Bergen did not elaborate on the wound he had suffered. “It does,” Colin agreed. “As you will realize, I am sure, I had had no intention of offering for her. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was quite extraordinary; it was as if I was witnessing the event from without my own body.” He chuckled. “Yet, I cannot say I am sorry,” he added hastily. “I find her passionate and engaging, and as I will eventually have to pick a wife, this lady will never bore me.”
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  His words met with disapproval from his mother, who was glaring in his direction. Father and Mother had been a love-match.

  “I apologize again for the unfeeling remark, Mother. I understand it will not be the marriage you have always envisioned for me.” His mother had always wished the same for him and had never engaged in chicanery or other means in an attempt to leg-shackle him as he had seen happen with other ton friends.

  “My son, ideas and circumstances change. I am happy to be of help,” she answered, with a gleam in her eye.

  “Good. The first thing I would ask is that you stay here so I will not worry about you. I have men searching for Whitton. The man is desperate, and I vow he will regret what he did to your house.”

  She bobbed her head in agreement. He paused, expecting her to leave the room, but to his surprise, she stayed where she was. Moments later, Davis entered with two other footmen.

  “Perfect timing, Davis. I need you to find John Pelling of the Bow Street Runners. Check the office in Bow Street and his home. Tell him I wish to see him as soon as possible.” Colin looked past Davis at the two footmen who had followed him into the room. “Both of you report to one Amos Woods at this address,” he said, scribbling the address of the orphanage on a piece of paper. “You are to keep the location secure. Although two men work there currently, they need more help. A tall, dark-haired rogue is threatening the children. I believe he means to snatch them to work on the streets. We need to keep them safe.” Behind Colin, his mother sucked in a deep breath at his remarks.

  “Does the Countess know of this?” she inquired.

  “Not as yet. Nora—Miss Mason—was on her way to speak with her grandmother when I arrived,” he replied.

  “I have many questions. However, I stand ready to assist in any way needed,” Bergen declared.

  The two men watched in amused astonishment as his mother walked to the brandy decanter and filled a glass before retaking the seat next to Bergen.

  “I believe you may afford me a few minutes to tell me about my future daughter-in-law. I would like to be of help—to both of you” she said, sipping her drink. “What manner of celebration will you allow me to plan?”