What a Wicked Earl Wants

by Vicky Dreiling

  “If we’re to be friends, can we dispense with Lady this, Lord that, when it’s just the two of us? It’s rather tiresome.”

  “You are too bold,” she said.

  He leaned over her, pinning his hands against the bench on either side of her. “You tempt me,” he said, “but I will restrain myself…if or until you are willing.”

  “I ought to reprimand you, but I see the mischief in your eyes.”

  He stood and helped her to rise. “We had better return before someone spreads the rumor that I’ve had my wicked way with you.”

  She took his arm. “I hate to disappoint you, but there’s no chance of that misapprehension.”

  “Why is that?” he said, leading her back down the path.

  “There’s nary a wrinkle in my skirts.”

  He laughed as they emerged onto the main path.

  Male voices drew her attention. She looked to her right and saw Justin stop on the path. Her son’s face and ears turned crimson. The two boys with him darted amused glances at him and walked off, leaving him behind.

  Laura’s stomach roiled. “I have to go to my son.”

  “Do you need assistance?” Bellingham asked.

  “No, I will take care of this.” She started off toward Justin, but he turned his back and strode off.

  “Justin, wait,” she called.

  He halted and faced her. His jaw tightened as she approached.

  “What is wrong?” she asked.

  He scowled. “Are you oblivious?”

  “Lower your voice, please,” she said in as neutral a tone as she could manage.

  Justin’s nostrils flared. “What were you doing walking down a secluded path with that rake?”

  A couple on the other side of the path glanced at them as they walked past. “We had better leave,” she said.

  He started striding off. She hurried to catch up with him. “Every passerby is witnessing your anger.”

  “Yes, and my friends saw you hanging on to that rakehell.”

  “You will not address me in an insulting manner. I was only walking with him.”

  “In the bushes,” he gritted out.

  “I will not put up with your insolence.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “We will discuss this when we are in the carriage,” she said.

  Justin said nothing else, but the rigid set of his jaw spoke volumes.

  Once they entered Mrs. Norcliffe’s house, the butler showed them to the anteroom to wait until the carriage arrived. She perched upon a sofa, noted the time on the mantel clock, and clasped her hands. Given the number of carriages in the square, she figured they would have to wait a bit.

  Justin slouched in a cross-framed armchair and glared at her. “How could you?”

  “Hush. I said we will discuss the matter in the carriage and not beforehand,” she said in an undertone. His insufferable attitude grated on her nerves, but she would reprimand him when they could speak alone.

  Justin kept getting up to look out the window, and then he would start pacing. Laura said nothing, because she didn’t trust her son to keep a cool head. But after alternately tapping her toes and fingers for forty minutes, Laura began to wonder if the butler had forgotten them. “I will check on the progress of the carriage,” she said.

  Laura walked into the foyer and approached the butler. “I’ve been waiting for some time now. Is there any word on the carriage?”

  The butler winced. “My lady, I apologize. I summoned it but forgot to check again. Allow me to send a footman to inquire for you.” He motioned to a footman, and Laura described the carriage to him.

  After the footman left, the butler cleared his throat. “My lady, you may return to the anteroom. I will summon you when there is word.”

  She sighed. “Please inform me the moment the footman returns.”

  “Yes, my lady. I’m very sorry for the delay,” he said.

  A dull ache started in her temples. She did her best to conceal her frustration and returned to the anteroom.

  Justin turned away from the window. “Is the carriage ready?”

  She shook her head. “The butler summoned the carriage, but when it didn’t arrive, he apparently forgot to check again.”

  “We’ve been waiting almost an hour,” Justin said.

  “The butler sent a footman after the carriage. It shouldn’t be long now.”

  When another twenty minutes passed, Laura gritted her teeth and returned to the foyer where she found the footman speaking to the butler. “Is the carriage ready?” she asked.

  “My lady, your driver apparently left the premises,” the butler said. “Evidently there was a miscommunication of some sort.”

  She rubbed her temple. “Will you please summon a hackney?”

  Footsteps clipped on the marble floor behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw Bellingham.

  “I couldn’t help overhearing. Since I’m leaving, I will take you in my carriage,” he said.

  “I do not want to put you to any trouble.”

  “How long have you been waiting?”

  “More than an hour,” she said.

  Bellingham narrowed his eyes at the butler and then returned his attention to her. “You’ve waited far too long as it is. I insist.”

  “Thank you. Let me inform Justin.”

  When she returned to the anteroom, Justin frowned. “Surely the carriage is ready by now.”

  “The driver apparently left. Lord Bellingham offered to take us in his carriage. Come along.”

  “No,” he said. “You will have nothing to do with him.”

  “Justin, we have been waiting for an age. Please do not argue with me.”

  “Don’t you understand? He wants to seduce you.”

  A deep male voice sounded behind her. “I have no intention of accosting your mother, but if riding in my carriage offends you, feel free to walk home.”

  Laura dug her nails into her palms. Why had he goaded her son?

  “I’m not leaving her alone with you,” Justin said.

  Bellingham shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Then he offered his arm to her. Laura took it and imagined Justin seething behind them, which was completely ridiculous.

  Bellingham halted in the foyer and addressed the butler. “Please make sure that Lady Chesfield’s driver is informed that she found another ride home the minute he arrives.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The butler bowed and rushed to open the door.

  No one said a word as they walked out and entered the carriage. Bellingham sat across from them with his back to the horses. The carriage rolled off, and Justin turned his attention to the window.

  Bellingham removed his hat and raked his hand through his hair. “The butler shouldn’t have left you waiting so long.”

  “I should have checked sooner,” she said. “There were many guests.”

  Bell’s jaw tightened visibly. “The butler was derelict in his duty.”

  “I hope you didn’t leave early on our account,” she said.

  He shook his head. “No, I put in an appearance for Harry’s sake. I never intended to stay long.”

  “You’re missing your friends,” she said.

  “I’ll likely see them at the club tonight and at Angelo’s fencing academy on Thursday morning.”

  Justin swerved his gaze to Bellingham.

  “Do you fence?” Bellingham asked.

  “No,” Justin said.

  “Since you’re in London, you might give it a go,” he said.

  Justin shrugged.

  Everyone was silent until the carriage slowed and rocked to a halt. Bellingham got out and assisted Laura.

  After Justin emerged, Bellingham turned to him. “If you’re interested in fencing, I could give you pointers.”

  Justin stared at him. “Why would you do that?”

  “You looked interested when I mentioned fencing. It’s your choice.”

  Justin hesitated. “All right.”

  “Thurs
day, ten sharp,” Bellingham said. “I’ll take you in my carriage.”

  Laura smoothed her skirt to hide her surprise at both of them. Had Bellingham made the offer because he felt obliged, as he’d said earlier? She wasn’t certain his involvement was wise. He certainly didn’t strike her as one to make commitments, and Justin had made no secret of his low opinion of Bellingham. Then why had he agreed to the fencing lesson?

  She would never understand men. “Thank you for taking us home, Lord Bellingham.”

  He bowed.

  Laura expected Justin to stride up the pavement, but he offered her his arm. She blinked, because he’d never done it before. At first she thought it was sweet of him, until her son sent a triumphant look at Bellingham. Laura winced as her son led her to the door. The last thing she needed was for her son to become overprotective and overbearing.

  Chapter Five

  The next day

  Bellingham paced about Laura’s anteroom. He hoped Justin would not prove obstinate about rising from his bed before noon. If he chose to waste the day, there was nothing he could do. He’d made the offer because of the implied promise that he would provide some guidance to the young man. However, he would not spend his every free hour trying to discipline a recalcitrant adolescent. It was just as well, because Laura did not appreciate when he took over.

  He halted at the sound of a feminine voice in the foyer. Laura’s voice. Whenever she spoke, her words held a soft, breathy quality. The devil. Next thing he knew he’d be writing odes to her soft, breathy voice.

  She walked into the anteroom. “Justin will be down directly.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back. “Good.”

  She’d draped an enormous blue shawl over her white gown. An elaborate braid was wrapped round her head, leading him to suspect her hair was very long. Granted, he could never really tell until the pins and the hair came down.

  He told himself not to think about unraveling the braid, but his fertile imagination conjured a picture of her standing naked with her blond hair flowing over her breasts. He really must stop devising naked scenarios of her. That would only make things harder, figuratively and literally.

  “I think Justin is eager for his fencing lesson,” she said. “He would never say so, but he rose early for breakfast. A few minutes ago, he ran back upstairs to collect the gloves he forgot.”

  The clip of boot heels on the marble floor alerted both of them. Justin entered the anteroom with a wary expression.

  “Ah, you’re ready,” Bell said. “Shall we be on our way?”

  Justin nodded and followed him outside. After they’d climbed into the carriage, Bell knocked on the ceiling with his cane. The carriage rocked into motion. Bell regarded the young man who sat across from him, but Justin kept his gaze turned to the window. The silence was awkward, but he figured Justin had no idea what to say.

  Bell would have to initiate the conversation. “We’ll start with the basics today, but once you learn the correct grip and strengthen your muscles, you can face a well-trained opponent.”

  Justin regarded him with a cynical expression. “Meaning you?”

  “Yes. If you practice, your skills will improve over time.”

  “How long have you been fencing?” Justin asked.

  “Since I was nineteen.” He thought a moment and decided to stretch the truth a bit to encourage Justin. “I wanted to begin when I was your age, but my father said I was too scrawny.”

  “You?”

  “Yes, I was tall, but I looked like a twig with big feet.”

  Justin looked amused and huffed.

  “Fencing helped build my muscles,” Bell said. “Mind you, it didn’t happen overnight.”

  Justin said nothing, but at least he was polite today.

  They remained silent until the carriage rolled to a halt at Angelo’s. They climbed out and walked inside the academy. The place smelled of sweat, and the clang of blades rang out. Foils hung crossed inside the arched wall niches.

  “I’ll introduce you to Angelo,” Bell said. “Let’s consult him about a weapon for you.”

  After Bell made the introduction, the chevalier regarded him with an inscrutable expression. Then he bowed and bade them to follow him to choose a foil. Bell eyed the blades and made a few suggestions. Angelo concurred that the pistol grip foil was a good choice for a beginner.

  “I will leave you to your demonstration for now,” Angelo said.

  Justin’s eyes registered wariness again. Bell wondered if the boy’s defensiveness stemmed from a lack of confidence and resolved to make the experience as positive as possible.

  After removing their coats, Bell demonstrated the grip with his own foil. “The mistake beginners make is holding the blade too tightly,” he said. “In order to attack or parry, your wrist has to be flexible. Grip the weapon as if it is a fragile figurine.”

  Justin loosened his grip and immediately tightened it.

  “It takes practice,” Bell said. “Use two or three fingers with your grip.”

  Justin experimented with three fingers. Eventually, his grip relaxed. Bell noted he had too much bend at the wrist and corrected it. Then he showed Justin how to slightly bend his elbow for the en garde. “Hold the blade aligned with your forearm,” Bell said.

  Justin’s brows furrowed as he tried again.

  “It’s a bit tedious in the beginning,” Bell said, “but mastering the grip is necessary.”

  “Right.” He blew out his breath, a sign of his frustration.

  “We’ll work on the grip the next time. Let’s work on your foot position,” Bell said. “The idea is to point your toe in the direction of your challenger. The knee should be vertically aligned with your toe.”

  When Justin assumed the position, Bell nodded. “You got it right away.”

  “Feels strange,” Justin said.

  “Nevertheless, you caught on quickly. Most beginners struggle.”

  Justin shrugged. “I got one thing right.”

  Justin’s surliness could possibly be a cover for a lack of confidence. If so, he might find a greater measure of his own worth by successfully learning to fence. “The techniques will become second nature to you if you practice on a regular basis,” Bell said.

  “All I’ve done is stand around posing,” Justin said. “I haven’t even broken a sweat.”

  “I understand,” Bell said. “If you wish to fence, you must be patient, but if you’re willing to work at it, you will find it rewarding.”

  Justin shrugged again as if he didn’t care.

  “Next time we’ll add lunges to the practice session,” Bell said.

  Someone clapped him on the back. Bell turned to find Colin and introduced him to Justin. “Where is Harry?”

  “His manservant said he was still abed.”

  “It’s almost eleven o’clock,” Bell said.

  Colin cleared his throat. “He’s having bachelor fare for breakfast.”

  Bell nodded at the euphemism for a woman of the demirep.

  Justin snorted. “You mean he’s bedding a trollop.”

  “Apparently there is no need to protect his tender ears.” Bell narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure you’ve heard worse.”

  “Seen worse, too,” Justin said.

  Bell narrowed his eyes. “We’ll talk soon.”

  Justin pulled a face.

  “We’ll talk,” Bell reiterated.

  Colin grinned at Bell. “Shall we end today’s session with an impromptu bout?”

  “He just wants to show off,” Bell said to Justin.

  “What? Are you afraid I’ll beat you?” Colin said.

  Bell selected a blade. “Prepare to lose.”

  A crowd gathered round as Bell and Colin saluted one another. Then Bell advanced. Colin parried, and Bell counterparried. Their blades clanged when they engaged. Bell and Colin disengaged momentarily only to advance again. Bell feinted and heard his friend hiss, and when he executed a running attack, Colin bared his teeth as he
parried. Sweat ran in rivulets down Bell’s face, but his heart raced as the blades clanged, and once more, he ran forward to attack.

  Colin parried, but Bell’s instinct to fight overruled him, and he attacked again. When the bout ended, Colin saluted him. The crowd applauded.

  Colin slapped Bell on the shoulder. “I’ll beat you one of these days.”

  “You can try,” Bell said with a cocky grin. He toweled off the perspiration and looked round for Justin. Where the devil had he gone? Bell slung his coat over his shoulder and strode off in search of the young man. Several acquaintances stopped to congratulate him. The whole time, Bell felt uneasy about Laura’s son. Blast it all. The last thing he needed was for Justin to find trouble on his watch. When another acquaintance approached, Bell cleared his throat. “Excuse me. I’ve got to take care of a matter.”

  Male voices reverberated in the building. Bell’s jaw tightened as he searched. Then he spotted Justin walking toward the door with two other boys. He recognized the brawny one he’d seen driving the curricle and wondered if Justin had planned to leave with them.

  The brawny boy said something to Justin as he opened the door. Justin looked over his shoulder and halted. Bell arched his brows.

  The other two boys quit the place.

  Bell said nothing as they stepped outside to wait for his carriage. Justin waved as his friend steered his curricle wildly into traffic, nearly colliding with a man driving a cart.

  “Your friend is reckless,” Bell said.

  Justin shrugged one shoulder.

  When Bell’s carriage turned the corner, he raised his arm to hail it. After it arrived, Bell gave the driver Laura’s address and climbed in after Justin. The boy turned his face to the window. He obviously didn’t want to discuss what had happened back there.

  Bell waited until the carriage rolled into motion before speaking. “Were you planning to leave with your friends?”

  “I was only talking to them,” Justin said.

  “The one with the curricle, what is his name?”

  “George.”

  Bell narrowed his eyes. “Where was he going?”

  “What difference does it make?” Justin said.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “A cockfight.”