The Unwanted Earl (The Love Bird Series)

by Hartman, Ruth J.

  Poor Conrad.

  A noise drew her attention back to Lord Griffith. His wheeze sounded as if death was imminent. “My lord, do you need to sit down?”

  “Don’t be preposterous. What fool would sit down in the middle of a ballroom floor?”

  “No… I meant, did you need perhaps to take a seat along the wall?”

  “Not on your life, dearie.”

  She clenched her jaw tight, trying to hold in a curse at his pet name for her.

  He leaned closer, his putrid breath nearly knocking her over. “I have you for this dance, and I’m not stopping until the music does.”

  “Why is it so important for you to dance with me? It’s obvious you’re not enjoying the endeavor.”

  “Since you and I are to be married—”

  She held up a hand. “Pardon?”

  “You just interrupted an earl in mid-speech.” His voice rose on the last word.

  She no longer cared what he told people. “You’re quite right. I did in fact interrupt you. And I’ll do it again if given a chance.” There. Take that and try to chew on it with your two remaining teeth.

  “You impertinent girl.”

  She shrugged. “Be that as it may…”

  “Maybe I need to rethink our nuptials and try to find someone with more class.”

  “I’m not going to marry you anyway. I’m already betrothed to another.”

  “Pish.”

  “Did you or did you not have a conversation with my father about this very thing?”

  “Hmm. It seems I did speak to him recently. Now what was it we discussed?” He shrugged. “Oh well, no matter. Surely it couldn’t have been of importance if I can’t bring to mind the detail.”

  Amelia raised an eyebrow. The old goat had forgotten what her father had said? “Lord Griffith, my father assured me that he’d spoken to you about my betrothal. To another. In light of that, my lord, I suggest you stop speaking of marrying me.”

  “Do not tell me what to do.”

  “I believe that’s exactly what I’ve done. And I’m not sorry.”

  “Of all the… well!” He dropped her hand and stomped away, leaving her standing alone in the midst of swirling couples. She cared not. Grinning, she maneuvered around the dancers, some who nearly collided with each other as they gawked at her.

  Conrad’s mouth hung open. He snapped it shut and stood as soon as she reached him. The two hat women continued to talk to the empty chair as if Conrad still sat between them. The way their voices squawked, they actually did sound a lot like a couple of birds conversing on a tree branch.

  Amelia bit her lip and waited for his reaction. Surely he would be mortified for himself as well as her at the way she’d acted and at the reactions of those around her. The entire time she’d walked across the dance floor, others had pointed and whispered.

  Conrad placed his hand on her elbow. “Did something happen to Lord Griffith? I saw you standing alone.”

  “I certainly hope so.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You hope something happened to him?”

  “That’s about the size of it, yes.” She tapped the toe of her slipper. The thought of what he’d said to her about spending the evening with him… She huffed out a breath.

  “But… why?”

  “Why, what?”

  “You’d said you’d hope something happened to him.”

  “Oh. That.”

  “Yes. That.”

  “Because he’s a horrid creature.”

  Nearby conversations halted. Suddenly, it seemed the whole room was listening.

  With a look right and then left, she lowered her voice. “Perhaps we can discuss this somewhere less public?”

  He nodded. Amelia took his offered arm and they walked out into the hall. Several other people were about, so she wasn’t worried about not having a chaperone. “Let’s sit over here.” She pointed at an empty bench and they sat down. “I’m afraid there’s something I neglected to tell you.”

  “And that would be…”

  “Lord Griffith was under the impression that he and I…”

  “You and he…?” He held his hand out as he waited for her to finish.

  “That he… that we…”

  Conrad laughed. “Surely not.”

  She smoothed the fabric of her skirt over her knees. “I’m afraid so.”

  “And why, pray tell, would he think that? The man has to be in his seventies.”

  “Eighty.”

  “My point exactly.”

  “He… well…” She glanced away. “It’s entirely possible that a few months ago he and my father had a conversation. About me.”

  “I see.”

  “And in that conversation, certain possibilities were discussed.” She turned but couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

  “As in, I’m assuming, money changing hands.”

  “Yes.”

  “I see.”

  She frowned. “Please stop saying ‘I see’.”

  “What do you wish me to say? Hooray that you were supposed to marry someone else? An octogenarian?”

  “No… But, what are your thoughts?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “With someone else asking for my hand, and the way in which we… The particular way our betrothal came about… Is there any way… that is, do you still wish to…?”

  “Are you asking if I’ll try to find a way to not marry you under the present circumstances?”

  She nodded.

  He glanced down and sighed.

  He was actually considering it.

  Conrad crossed his arms and shook his head. “I’m so sorry it had to come to this, Miss Talbot.”

  Miss Talbot? “But…”

  “You see, while, of course, I wasn’t the least bit thrilled with… how our betrothal first happened, I had come to be… fond of you.” He turned his head away.

  Not thrilled… Had become fond… implying he was no longer fond? That wasn’t good. Not good in the least. She grabbed his arm. “Lord Lofton.” She whispered, “Conrad, please… please reconsider…”

  His shoulders shook. Was he crying? She gripped his arm more tightly. Oh no, she’d made him weep. Now she felt even worse than before.

  When he turned back, though, a smile had replaced the tears. The man was laughing. At her!

  “Oh!”

  “Something amiss?”

  “I-I-I—”

  “Is that so?”

  She huffed out a breath. How rude! “You insufferable…”

  “Yes, go on.”

  “You’re a pompous…”

  “This is fascinating. Please continue.”

  “Well… I… you’re as mean as a… a… goose.” She jumped from the bench, turned on her heel and stomped away, back into the ballroom. The room was noticeably warmer than the hall had been.

  Of all the nerve. Treating her as a plaything, having sport with her affections. Wreaking havoc with her emotions. How dare he just…?

  She stopped suddenly, nearly bumping into a short stubby man in a tall skinny hat. She curtseyed and excused herself as he grumbled something and stepped around her.

  Conrad had every right and more to tease her and make her think he’d not go through with the marriage. She’d blackmailed the poor man, for heaven’s sake. Amelia pivoted and nearly ran into the same little man again. Why was he always in her way?

  “Have a care!” He righted his hat, which had been knocked askew.

  “A million pardons again, sir.” She hurried across the ballroom, barely missing being tangled in others’ slippers and boots as they danced.

  When she reached the doorway to the hall, she slowed and then stopped. Pressing her hand to her midsection, she took a deep, calming breath. You can do this, Amelia. Do whatever you have to, to keep Conrad. He’s worth everything.

  She took one step then another, until she reached Conrad, who still sat where she’d left him.

  He lifted his gaze to hers,
his eyes sparkling with merriment. The corners of his mouth curled up. “As mean as a goose?”

  She grimaced. “Please forgive me. I realize that with your aversion to anything avian, making any reference of one in relation to you was quite off-putting.”

  “On the contrary, I found it imaginative and amusing.”

  She plopped down next to him. “You did?”

  “Why, yes.”

  “So… you’re not upset?”

  “Do I appear to be upset?”

  “Well, no. But are you of a mind to… call off our agreement?”

  He reached across the small space between them and placed his finger beneath her chin. “Amelia. Look at me.”

  She raised her gaze to his, staring at those ice-blue eyes… eyes that both entranced and enchanted her. “Yes?”

  “I am not letting you go. Are we clear?”

  Relief swept through her, but she couldn’t imagine any coherent words coming from her mouth. So she simply nodded.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The day was clear and crisp. Birds darted among tree branches as Conrad stepped cautiously down the walk at the Bird Sanctuary, hoping to avoid dirt, bird droppings, or anything else disgusting. Of all places, of all the locations in London, why did his betrothed insist on having the wedding reception outdoors? Here? When her mother said that the wedding had already been planned, she’d only been partially truthful. Amelia would get a say in the reception, at least.

  The wedding, of course, would be a simple ceremony with immediate family in attendance. I only wish my whole family could be there. But others would not understand if Andrew and Cecilia were in attendance. Someday, I plan to change that. If it’s in my power, I will better their livelihood and station.

  Amelia tugged on Conrad’s arm. By now, he’d grown used to her habit of doing that, so he paid close attention to his balance as she did so. Falling was embarrassing enough. But falling in front of his mother, mother-in-law, and Lucy and Oliver would have been mortification times ten.

  Behind Conrad, his mother grumbled something about vile creatures. Since this was her first visit to the Sanctuary, she was in for some unpleasant surprises as he had been. Hopefully, she would not be bombed by bird droppings, as had been his unfortunate experience.

  Even she didn’t deserve that.

  Well…

  Amelia pointed up. “Look at that.”

  Wonderful. I’m assuming it’s yet another bird. I hope I won’t be sorry… He slowly leaned his head back. And squinted. Oh no… It’s not possible…

  A common cuckoo looked down at their group and made eye contact. With him. It flapped its wings and squawked loudly, looking as if it performed a song and dance on a stage.

  The bird left its perch, flew in a tight circle and dove toward them. Or rather, toward Conrad. This can’t be happening. Not again. Conrad closed his eyes and prayed that the bird would ignore him. When nothing happened, he dared to open his eyes. With a sigh, he relaxed. Ah… I must have gotten lucky this time.

  Everyone in their party stared at Conrad. Actually, his hat. He swallowed. “Why are you all…?” Did his hat sit askew? He despised when that occurred.

  Amelia giggled and then slapped her hand over her mouth.

  Lucy smiled as well. “It seems you have a… visitor.”

  Oh dear… So that means the bird is…

  Oliver bit his lip against a smile, but his eyes held merriment. “Here, Lofton, allow me to assist you. Crouch down a little, would you?”

  Aghast at something having taken up residence on his hat and having to crouch down near the ground, Conrad nevertheless did what was asked. His knobby knees were nearly in contact with the path. Please hurry…

  Oliver stepped forward and reached out. “Here now, little cuckoo, let’s not bother the good earl.”

  Good earl? Conrad lifted one corner of his mouth. Who would have ever thought someone would say that about him? And especially Oliver? Conrad’s hat shifted slightly as Oliver gave it slight pressure from the top. Another bird squawk followed and Conrad braced himself to be covered in bird droppings. I should have brought more than one handkerchief today. From my past experience, I might have known better.

  Oh the nightmares he’d had since the first time it happened. The cuckoo squawking at him, diving at his head, dropping its vile substance on Conrad’s hat, coat, boots and face. In my mouth… He shuddered.

  “There. All set.” Oliver stepped away.

  “Is it… Am I… Um, my hat?”

  Amelia laughed and took his arm, helping him to stand. “Everything is fine and the bird flew away. You and your hat have come out unscathed. Why did you look so worried?”

  “The cuckoo and I have an unfortunate history, I’m afraid. There’s something of a vendetta on his part.” Although I had insulted him first.

  Amelia raised her eyebrows.

  Conrad glanced at Oliver. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I guess all of my former work here at the Sanctuary comes in handy at times.”

  More grumbling came from Conrad’s mother. She frowned and pointed at Conrad’s head. “That disgusting bird is exactly why I don’t want the wedding reception here in this horrid place.”

  Amelia gasped.

  Conrad took Amelia’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before turning his attention back to his mother. “But this is where my bride wishes to have it. It’s her favorite place on earth.” He narrowed his eyes. “And this is where it shall be.”

  “Well!” His mother stomped her foot.

  Perfect. Wasn’t it bad enough she did that at home? But in front of others?

  Lucy eyed Amelia and angled her head toward Conrad’s mother. “Perhaps we should continue to look for the best location?”

  “Yes.” Amelia smiled. “You’re right.” She leaned against Conrad. “Come along, dear.”

  He winked at her. “Delighted.”

  Conrad’s mother mumbled louder.

  “Do pipe down, Lady Lofton.” Mrs. Talbot’s voice came from behind them as well.

  Amelia snickered but didn’t turn around. She and Conrad kept walking.

  Uniting their two mothers into extended family would be interesting, to put it mildly. It would be a miracle if they didn’t come to blows before the wedding even occurred.

  Up ahead, ducks quacked and splashed water as the group neared the pond. Amelia’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go see them.” Fighting very hard not to roll his eyes, Conrad allowed her to pull him in that direction.

  “What’s this? We have to walk through the grass?” Conrad’s mother screeched.

  It couldn’t be helped. Conrad did indeed roll his eyes that time. Why she’d insisted on coming today was beyond imagination, since Amelia had told her that was to be their destination.

  Perhaps she didn’t want Mrs. Talbot to have the upper hand in the planning of the reception. That would be just like his mother… nosy beyond reason. She should have been born a cat.

  Then he remembered meeting Amelia’s cat. And, that said cat would very soon live under his roof. With him. He huffed out a breath.

  “Something the matter?” Amelia slowed her steps.

  Don’t let anything ruin this for her, as much as you dislike it. “Of course not, just… inhaling the fresh air.”

  “You were listening to me the other day and are taking my advice? Thank you.”

  He forced a smile. “Certainly.”

  The sound of boots clomped behind him as the group veered from the path to the grassy field, muddy since last night’s hard rain. A laugh from behind sounded like Lucy’s followed by a deeper one from Oliver. And the mothers argued about something… The words abhorrent and repulsive were bandied about.

  Be quiet Mother! He clenched his teeth. Must she be a constant whining, embarrassment? But weren’t you the same, not too long ago? Realization struck. I’m just like her. I’ve inherited all of her negative attitudes and offensive jibes at others. But I want to change. Despera
tely!

  The Shipleys and the mothers paused beneath a tree. Oliver pointed up and was explaining something to them.

  I bet my mother is just thrilled with that.

  He turned back to Amelia. A ray of sunshine caught her red hair and it gleamed. How he longed to stop, turn her toward him, and remove the pins from her hair, letting the tresses blow about in the breeze… and then he would—

  “…the ducks?”

  “Pardon?”

  The corners of Amelia’s lips rose. “And just what were you dreaming about?”

  “Dreaming? I wasn’t—”

  She poked him in the chest. “I know a dreamy expression when I see it. Could I be so bold as to hope it was about me?”

  Yes, you can, because yes, it was. “Now, I don’t want to give away all of my secrets, do I?” Not this one, and especially not about Andrew and Cecilia.

  She took a step closer. “Secrets? I love secrets.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, Miss Talbot. My secret will not leave my lips.” At least not today. Not until I’m certain I can trust you with it. And with my heart.

  “Oh pooh. Then I guess I’ll have to amuse myself with choosing the reception location.” She turned and motioned to the rest of the group to join them.

  Lucy waved back, said something to the others, and they made their way through the mud and grass. She reached Amelia and touched her sleeve. “Have you found it?”

  “Not yet. Just wanted everyone to admire the ducks.”

  “We always love to do that, don’t we Oliver?”

  Lucy’s husband smiled and put his arm around her shoulders. Conrad longed for the day when a simple touch to Amelia’s hand or shoulder wouldn’t be considered outlandish. Just a couple more weeks until they’d be husband and wife.

  Two of the ducks swam in circles and then upended, heads below the pond’s surface. Their back ends pointed to the sky as they searched below the water for food.

  Lucy laughed. “I remember a time when someone I know thought that behavior distasteful.”

  Conrad nodded, acknowledging his guilt.

  Oliver smacked Conrad lightly on the shoulder. “You do know our teasing is good natured?”