What a Wicked Earl Wants

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What a Wicked Earl Wants Page 12

by Vicky Dreiling

Bell frowned. “The devil. It’s disgusting. Surely you didn’t want to see it.”

  “I didn’t go,” Justin said.

  But he would have if Bell had not been there. “I wager he taunted you because you didn’t.”

  Something flickered in Justin’s eyes. “You don’t know anything.”

  “I know that if you continue carousing, there will be hell to pay.”

  “Why do you care?”

  He set his hat aside. “This isn’t about me. It’s about your mother. If something bad happens to you, she will be devastated.”

  “Stay away from my mother,” he said in a threatening tone.

  “I’m not the one wounding her.”

  Justin’s nostrils flared. “I know all about you.”

  “I doubt it,” Bell said.

  “You’re a rake. If you hurt her, you’ll answer to me,” Justin said.

  “While I’m glad you’re protective of your mother, you’re giving her insufficient credit. She’s perfectly capable of making sound judgments.”

  Justin scowled. “I know your reputation with women.”

  “Your mother is a lady, and I treat her as one.”

  “Right,” he spat out. “By taking her down a secluded path.”

  Bell recalled Justin’s reaction at the Venetian breakfast. He’d come to the wrong conclusion. He sighed. “You were embarrassed because your friends were there.”

  Justin returned his attention to the window. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and Bell decided to let the matter rest.

  Neither of them said anything. Bell looked out the window at the bustling, diverse crowd. He’d spent part of every year in London as far back as he could remember. To him, the scenery was so familiar he rarely paid attention unless a cart overturned, impeding traffic. However, this was Justin’s first trip to the city. Bell tried to imagine it from the boy’s perspective. Compared to a sleepy village, the city must seem chaotic and foreign. The streets were crowded with all manner of pedestrians, wagons, and vehicles. Costermongers hawked their fruits and vegetables in unintelligible lower-class accents. At a corner, a crossing sweeper cleared the refuse and horse droppings for a pair of ladies and nearly got trampled by a man on horseback.

  At long last the carriage turned into the square and rolled to a halt at Laura’s town house. Justin moved over on the seat, but Bell held up his hand to stop him. “There is something I wish to say.”

  Justin released a loud sigh.

  “You’re not the first young buck to sow wild oats, but if you’re not careful, you’re likely to get in over your head.”

  “You’re not my guardian.”

  “No, I’m not, but your mother worries.”

  “I worry, too—about you.”

  “What?” Bell said.

  “You can’t fool me,” Justin said. “The fencing lessons were a way to get in my mother’s good graces, weren’t they?”

  “The purpose was to engage you in a healthy activity, rather than drinking yourself sick every night.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I think you’re trying to divert the topic, because we both know you meant to go to that cockfight,” Bell said.

  “Are you finished?” Justin said.

  “Whether you wish to continue the fencing practice is your decision, but know this. I’m not your enemy.” Bell opened the carriage door and climbed out.

  When Justin emerged, Bell meant to escort him inside, but Justin shook his head. “You’re not invited.”

  “I mean to speak to your mother,” he said.

  “No,” Justin said. “A man like you has only one thing in mind, and I won’t let you touch her.”

  As Justin strode off to the door, Bell muttered, “You’re a bit late for that.”

  Frustrated, he waited until Justin entered the town house. Then he got back in the carriage and knocked his cane on the roof. He’d meant to give Laura a report of the fencing lessons, but he had also wanted to see her. A voice deep inside asked, To what end?

  She’d made it clear there could never be anything intimate between them.

  There were plenty of widows and courtesans he could have with the mere snap of his fingers. Hell, they flirted and dropped blatant hints. He’d taken what they so easily offered more times than he could count and walked away without a backward glance.

  He’d asked her if they could be friends. What the devil had he been thinking?

  The next evening, White’s

  Harry patted his stomach. “Excellent dinner.”

  Bell finished his cheesecake and coffee. “Gentlemen, shall we repair to my town house for a game of billiards?”

  “Sounds like an excellent idea to me,” Harry said.

  “I wager a pony I’ll win the first game,” Colin said.

  “Twenty-five pounds?” Harry said in an outraged voice.

  “If you lose, Colin will loan you the money,” Bell said.

  “What?” Colin said. “You’re the one with plump pockets.”

  Bell pushed back his chair and started to rise, but a waiter hurried to the table, carrying a silver salver.

  “My lord, your footman delivered a message,” he said.

  Frowning, Bell opened it. He caught his breath. Laura had asked him to call about a matter concerning her son. “What the devil has he done now?” Bell muttered.

  “Is there a problem?” Colin asked.

  “Yes, Laura’s stepson is causing trouble again.”

  “You mean Lady Chesfield?” Harry asked.

  Bell looked up and saw his friends grinning at him. “What?”

  “You called her by her Christian name,” Colin said.

  He ignored their smirks. “I’ve got to go.”

  Bell donned his hat and gloves, and then he strode out to his waiting carriage. He gave the address to the driver and climbed inside. After the horses started, he realized he was jiggling his leg, an old leftover habit from boyhood when he was anxious about something. Most of the time, he managed to squelch nervous tendencies through the use of logic, but there wasn’t much logic behind that young man’s rebellion.

  The streets were crowded with carriages, carts, and pedestrians. He mastered his impatience by taking deep, even breaths. Bell told himself that Laura had probably found another flask. It would alarm her, but it wouldn’t hurt her son, except for the morning-after bottle ache, which Justin richly deserved. Bell rather thought clanging pots would be the thing to awaken Laura’s son after a long night of getting foxed.

  At long last, the carriage rocked to a halt. Bell didn’t wait for the driver. He opened the door and jumped down. Then he strode up the pavement and rang the bell. The door opened immediately and Reed bade him to come inside.

  Bell divested himself of his gloves and hat. “Where is she?”

  “Upstairs, my lord, in the young master’s bedchamber. I will lead you there.”

  He followed Reed into the great hall, and Laura appeared on the landing. “I’ll see myself up, Reed.” Then Bell ran up the curving staircase. “What is it?” he said.

  “I found something. Follow me,” she said.

  Her furrowed brows attested to her concern as they ascended the next staircase. He walked beside her down the corridor. She halted before a door and took a deep breath. “I must prepare you.”

  “Inside,” he said under his breath. “You don’t want to risk a servant overhearing.”

  She nodded and turned the knob.

  He followed her inside and shut the door. “Where is your son?”

  “He attended a card party at his friend Paul’s house. I made him take our carriage, and he promised to come home by midnight. I told him that he would be forbidden to leave the house for a week if he was even one minute late.”

  “What did you find?”

  Her face flushed. “It is…disgusting.”

  Bell frowned. “Can you be more specific?”

  She shook her head slowly.

  “Perhaps you sho
uld show it to me,” he said.

  Her throat worked. “It is under the mattress.”

  The moment she said mattress, Bell figured out what she’d found.

  “The maid turned the mattress and ran out,” she said. “It is awful.”

  Bell squatted beside the mattress. “Don’t look.”

  He lifted his chin and saw her standing at the foot of the bed with her hand covering her eyes. His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Then he lifted the mattress and pulled out a dozen engravings.

  “Naked women,” he said.

  “Those are not the worst,” she said, peeking between her fingers. “Oh, they are disgusting.”

  He sifted through them. “I see what you mean. Do you suppose these lovers actually posed?”

  “Do not tease me,” she said. “What am I to do? My son is depraved.”

  Bell pushed the engravings back under the mattress. “Your son is a healthy young man with typical male urges.”

  “Those engravings are filthy,” she said. “I will cover my eyes while you feed them into the fire.”

  He snorted.

  “How dare you laugh?” she said.

  He rose, walked over to her, and took her by the shoulders. “I won’t burn them, because then he’ll know you found them, and that will humiliate him.”

  “But they are dirty.”

  “Look at me,” he said.

  When she met his gaze, there were crimson flags on her cheeks.

  “He has needs,” Bell said. “Believe me, there are far worse things.”

  “I mean to burn that filth,” she said.

  “Hush,” he said. Something tender unfurled in his chest. “Let’s go to the drawing room.”

  He offered his arm and led her out into the corridor. Then he escorted her down the stairs to the drawing room. She’d been married, but he already knew her sexual experiences were limited.

  After they entered the drawing room, he sat beside her on the sofa. “You know that I’m pragmatic. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings, so I will speak frankly. It’s in your son’s best interest. Will you allow it?”

  She nodded. “You must think me foolish.”

  “No, I think you were shocked, but nothing bad will happen to your son if he looks at those naughty engravings.”

  “I will not allow that disgusting filth in my house,” she said. “You cannot mean for me to sanction this.”

  He sighed. “Like it or not, he is experiencing urges that are difficult to ignore. It’s perfectly natural. I know those plates bother you, but he is far better off looking at them than risking disease in a bawdy house.”

  She gasped. “He would never do such a thing.”

  “Did you ever think he would stay out late at night drinking spirits?”

  “No,” she said, lacing her fingers in that prim way of hers.

  “The important thing is that Justin has a safe way of relieving his urges. There is nothing wrong with it. Women pleasure themselves as well.”

  “I’ve heard enough,” she said, averting her face.

  He remembered how hot his face had gotten the day his father had set him down for a man-to-man talk. But his father’s frank discussion had kept him from making stupid mistakes. Unfortunately, Justin had no male figure in his life to guide him. He didn’t relish the thought of having to do it, because of Justin’s hostility toward him, but there was no one else. “Laura, do you wish me to talk to your son? There are things he needs to know.”

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What do you plan to tell him?”

  “About diseases and pregnancy.”

  “I think you will put ideas in his head.”

  “Those ideas are already there. The bawdy plates are proof.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice miserable. “He is not receptive to you.”

  “I know, but I think it’s important that I try.”

  She rubbed her temple. “I think you had better not say anything. He’s likely to become suspicious that I found the engravings.”

  “Listen to me,” he said. “My friend’s brother got into a situation when he wasn’t much older than Justin. He sired a son that he was forbidden to see. To this day, he must refer to his own son as his cousin to prevent the label of bastard. You don’t want your son to suffer the consequences of an accidental pregnancy—or far worse, disease. If you let me, I will tell him to wait before lying with a woman, but I’m also going to tell him how to prevent pregnancy and disease in the event he doesn’t wait. Given his recent history, I think it is a good idea.”

  “Very well,” she said.

  “There is something else.”

  Her eyes filled with dread. “What?”

  “It’s nothing bad,” he said. “I’ve given a great deal of thought to Justin and his friends. When I was their age, my friends and I went through a rebellious period. We got our thrills by courting danger in low places. Mind you, I had a strict father who put an end to my carousing. The point is that Justin and his friends need to learn they can have fun without getting themselves in troublesome situations, and there are plenty of places where fiends would take advantage of them. I’d like to invite Justin and his friends to play billiards at my town house.”

  “That is very kind of you, but you already offered him fencing lessons. I’m sure you would prefer spending time with your friends,” Laura said.

  “Harry and Colin can show them how to play. They will delight in ribbing the boys. If you’re amenable, I’ll call for Justin at nine o’clock on Saturday.”

  “I will put the matter before Justin and let you know if he is interested.”

  Bell hesitated and decided to be honest. “Your son believes the reason I offered the fencing lessons was to get in your good graces.”

  She sighed. “I know. He thinks you mean to seduce me. It is disconcerting to have my own son warning me of the dangers of big, bad rakes.”

  His shoulders shook with laughter. “It is ironic, but to his credit, he does wish to protect you.”

  “I suppose I should find his concern endearing, but to be honest, I’m exasperated. Good heavens, I’m his mother, and it is as if he is trying to parent me.”

  Bell rested his arm over the top of the sofa. “Placate him. He’ll soon tire of it, and when he sees that I mean you no harm, he will relent.”

  “I’m becoming too dependent upon you.”

  “Why would you object to my help? After all, we’re friends.”

  “It seems so strange and different.”

  “Did you not consider your husband your friend?”

  “Yes, but it was different because he was my husband. I’ve only known you for a short time.”

  He winked. “Well, we are unofficially affianced.”

  “Oh, please don’t remind me of that business,” she said.

  He laughed. “In all seriousness, men and women can be friends.”

  “To a certain degree,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “My sister Rachel is my best friend.” She looked at him. “There are things I tell my sister that I could never discuss with you.”

  “Give me an example,” he said.

  “Women speak of private things among themselves,” she said. “There are things I am uncomfortable discussing with you. I imagine the same is true of men.”

  He regarded her with a lopsided smile. “I could tell you, but I fear you would take a permanent disgust of me.”

  “Probably,” she said.

  “That doesn’t mean we cannot be friends,” he said, “even if there are subjects we do not feel comfortable discussing with each other.”

  She moistened her lips. “Were you friends with your paramours?”

  He sighed. “The answer is a bit complicated.”

  Her eyes widened. “Well?”

  “The relationships were not of a long standing,” he said.

  “You only wanted them for…”

  “I beli
eve the polite expression is I bedded them.”

  She wrinkled her nose.

  “I’m nearly thirty years old and a bachelor,” he said. “I took mistresses.” The mantel clock chimed. “It is late,” he said. “I’d better leave before your son arrives and decides to avenge your honor.”

  She managed a smile as they both rose, and then she noticed something. “Oh, your sapphire pin is coming loose.” Without a thought, she removed it from the starched folds of his cravat and secured it. The whole time, she felt him looking at her from beneath his dark lashes. She’d not even stopped to think that her actions were those of a wife. Oh, this was embarrassing. “I ought to have asked your permission.”

  “I don’t mind,” he said, looking down at the pin, and then he captured her gaze. They stood so close she could hear the sound of his breathing. Though he’d obviously shaved, she could see the dark growth. He had a heavy beard.

  A subtle masculine scent, a mix of soap and something unique to him, invaded her senses. The very air seemed to crackle between them. His eyes darkened with a languorous expression, and she felt the pull of temptation. Every inch of her skin tingled.

  “Laura,” he said in a rough undertone.

  How could one word be so replete with longing? Despite all of her beliefs, she wanted to kiss him one more time, but she dared not cross that line again. She mustn’t risk her reputation, because it would hurt everyone she held dear. She took a step back and masked her yearning with a smile. “There now, you’re all set.”

  He tugged on his sleeves and bowed. “Until Saturday.”

  When the door clicked shut, she sank onto the sofa. She’d not thought about the other women in his life—the mistresses—until tonight. She’d seen him with that scantily clad woman at Lady Atherton’s ball. For all she knew, the woman was his current mistress. She told herself that it was none of her affair, but she could not deny that it bothered her.

  How could she remain his friend when she knew that seeing him with another woman would make her horribly jealous? And it would happen, because he was a man with needs and would seek a woman who would give him what he wanted.

  She had no right to be jealous. There could never be anything more than friendship between them, and he would likely tire of her and Justin long before the season ended.

 

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