Wedding Night With the Earl

by Amelia Grey

  “No. I mean, there weren’t that many, Uncle. A few, maybe.”

  His almond-shaped eyes narrowed to slits. “You need only settle on one. Need I remind you that being your father’s only heir and my niece has made you one of the most sought-after young ladies since your debut?”

  “That is because all the gentlemen are interested in me for my dowry, and none of them for love.”

  “You are fetching, intelligent, more educated and well-read than you should be, and you have a handsome dowry as well, so would you please tell me what there is about you not to love?”

  Katherine smiled. “I have no argument against that, Your Grace.”

  “Nor should you.”

  “But if he doesn’t love me, I at least want him to be strong, handsome, loyal, and love children.”

  “Great heaven of mercies!” the duke grumbled as his bushy eyebrows drew together so tightly, they almost touched. “That’s too much to ask. There is no such man. Or if there is, I’ve never met him and you’re not likely to, either. But if you have somehow managed to discover this paradigm of manhood, nothing will get my old bones to moving faster than the prospect of posting the banns immediately so that I can consider my debt to your father fulfilled.”

  “No,” she said regretfully. “I haven’t found him.” Though Lord Greyhawke might come close. He was strong and handsome. And if he’d been so distraught as to smash things in his house after his wife died, he must have been fiercely loyal and he must have loved her very much.

  “So I thought,” her uncle said. “I know you are as persnickety as that pampered Cheshire cat that eats from the Prince’s dinner table, but would you reconsider all of your previous discards who found favor with you and do your best to find an acceptable gentleman to fall in love with this year, my dear, since that seems to be your main criterion? I am not getting any younger, and I’d like to see you wed before I pass from this earth.”

  Katherine knew Uncle Quillsbury wouldn’t consider his debt paid to her father until she married. Since the afternoon she’d curtsied before the Queen, the duke had had only one goal in mind, and that was to make an acceptable match for her. The problem was that Katherine had rejected every gentleman he’d suggested and the ones who’d pursued her, too.

  Her uncle was getting older and more cantankerous by the day. Both her uncles were. She knew the duke was eager to see her married. Her only issue with him was that he didn’t seem to care whether she was happily wed as long as she was properly wed.

  “You know I’ve already promised I will, and I won’t let you down,” she said. She was seriously trying to consider some of the gentlemen who had shown interest in her in the past, but she wasn’t close to making a decision. Still, she tamped down her worries about that and said, “I’m committed to being betrothed by the end of the Season.”

  “Then that is all I ask,” he said, and turned and walked out. Uncle Willard, who hadn’t spoken a word during her exchange with the duke, and probably hadn’t heard much of what they’d said, followed quietly behind him.

  Katherine suddenly felt wretched. She hated disappointing the duke. And it wasn’t as though she didn’t want to marry. Of course she did. Even more so now that she knew the thrills of kissing. And she hoped married people did a lot of kissing.

  “I shall go, too, and leave you to your thoughts and your toast,” Aunt Leola said. “I’ll send your maid up in a little while and then I’ll see you belowstairs later today.”

  “Thank you for bringing in the tray, Auntie. I didn’t mean to seem as if I didn’t appreciate your kindness.”

  “I know. I wish it weren’t so that a young lady had no goal in life other than finding a husband. Sometimes it doesn’t seem right that getting married should be her only purpose. But that is how it is, and I don’t see it changing. I think I probably said some of the same things to the duke you said to him just now when he arranged my marriage more than thirty-five years ago.”

  “Did you love your husband?”

  “Of course not. But I respected him. I honored him and in turn he was very good to me.”

  “And it mattered not about love because you had the love of your children?” she asked, hoping her aunt would confirm her reasoning.

  “Always. Those are the things that matter. A lifetime can truly be a long time. So when you do choose, my dear, choose wisely.” She smiled, turned, and left the room.

  Choose wisely.

  That was what she was trying to do, but time was so short. The Season was already under way.

  Groaning at her weakness, Katherine picked up her cold chocolate and sipped the sweetened drink. She would already be married if any of the gentlemen the duke had mentioned had stirred and disturbed her senses and her sensibilities the way Lord Greyhawke had last night. She had no idea what she’d been missing by never having been kissed, but she couldn’t say she’d ever wanted any of the other gentlemen to kiss her. It had been different with the earl. Allowing him to kiss her had felt like the perfectly normal thing to do.

  For some reason, she suddenly saw herself and Lord Greyhawke sweeping across the dance floor in the beautifully decorated Great Hall. She was twirling, skipping, and tiptoeing in time with the music. She wore a flowing, shimmering, golden-colored gown and a sparkling tiara on her head. She felt warmth, strength, and possessiveness in the earl’s hands as he moved her through the steps, just as she had felt his power last night when he’d held her so tightly and kissed her so deeply. Her mind flitted from him gliding her through the intricate and fast pace of a swift quadrille to the intimate and sensual movements of the waltz.

  And through it all, Katherine’s legs never tired and her feet never missed a step.

  She chuckled to herself and sipped from her cup again. It was lovely to imagine something so wonderful; however, dancing was only a daydream for her and would never happen in real life. Her injury set her apart from other young ladies in that regard, but it didn’t keep her from having the same dreams of one day falling in love with a dashing and slightly dangerous gentleman such as the Earl of Greyhawke.

  Most of the young ladies who’d made their debut with Katherine were already married. Some were holding sweet, chubby babes in their arms. And Katherine? She was one of the members of the Wilted Tea Society and still unwed.

  With two Seasons behind her and another under way, hope for that elusive and magical emotion called love had faded and must be put aside. She would pay close attention to Viscount Rudyard on their afternoon ride. He was the youngest of the gentlemen she was considering and probably the most handsome, too. Except, of course, for the earl.

  Lord Greyhawke? Was she considering him? Her chest tightened and her breathing grew shallow. Could she?

  She wondered if what she’d heard about him saying he would never marry again was true. Was there any chance he would be interested in her, or would he, like Uncle Quillsbury, assume she was fast becoming a dried-up weed on a shelf and dismiss her outright?

  Katherine didn’t know. That was why she had put aside the search, the hope for love, and begun her hunt to find a gentleman who would be a good father to the many children she planned to have. And if the earl’s kisses were anything to go by, she would very much enjoy getting started on that as soon as possible.

  Yes, she wanted to marry and have children. Katherine loved her aunt and her uncles. They had been devoted to her from the moment she’d entered their house, but she didn’t want to live the rest of her life in this very quiet, very proper house that had been her shelter for twelve years. She wanted to live in the kind of house she’d grown up in during the first seven years of her life. A house that was unruly, lively, and filled with loved ones and laughter. She wouldn’t even mind arguing, crying, or yelling as long as there was noise and movement.

  Katherine just didn’t know where that house would be or who would be living in it with her. She had narrowed her search to Viscount Rudyard, Mr. Bailey Maycott, and Mr. Steven Norbury. They were all pursuing
her, and though it wasn’t a happy thought, she truly needed to settle on one of them by the end of the Season, marry, and begin her family.

  She placed her cup in the saucer and leaned back against the pillows. Maybe it was her uncle reminding her of the dreaded task of deciding on a husband by the end of the Season. Perhaps it was the afterglow of her very first kiss by a handsome gentleman who made her feel very grown-up sensations, or maybe it was just that she’d stood near the dance floor with the handsome Lord Greyhawke insisting she dance with him when she knew she never would. But for some reason, she wanted to open the doors to her past and think about her family. She hadn’t wanted to do that in a long time because the pain was always so great.

  But now, today, in the quiet of her room, she wanted to remember her two beautiful older sisters and brother. She wanted to remember their laughter, their whispers, and even their anger at her when she would follow them around the house and beg them to play with her, or how they’d scold her for asking too many questions. She wanted to remember her mother’s sweet smile, and her gentle hand brushing Katherine’s hair, and her father dropping to one knee, holding out his arms for her to run to him and be caught up in his strong embrace.

  Since the age of seven, she’d lived with this unusual family of uncles, aunt, and more servants than she could count. Since arriving, Katherine couldn’t remember a time she wasn’t surrounded by people just waiting to do something for her. But she’d always felt lonely. There were many times over the years she’d found herself yearning for the sounds of laughter, or singing, or even the cries of a mischievous child who was cross because he didn’t get his way.

  Yes, she’d wanted the love of a gentleman whose kisses stirred longings inside her that she didn’t yet fully understand. A man who challenged her the way Lord Greyhawke had rather than cosset her the way her aunt and uncles did. But she also wanted to live in a house that was busy, loud, and not always so proper about everything. A house that was filled with boisterous life. It was past time to decide on a husband so she could start the kind of life she wanted—filled with children to give her love to. And she would name them all after her brother and her sisters, because their lives had been cut short and they’d never had the opportunity to have children of their own.

  Katherine rested against the pillows with a smile on her face. Yes, she would honor her siblings in such a way. Surely her husband would grant her this small request.

  But for now, she was going to close her eyes and indulge in good and happy memories from the past. Rather than run from them, as she often did, she wanted to embrace them and enjoy the love she’d felt for the family she’d lost way too early in her life.

  It wouldn’t be easy. There would be pain in doing so, but there would also be unspeakable joy to remember them.

  Chapter 13

  When remedies are past, the griefs are ended …

  —Othello, act 1, scene 3

  Adam placed the quill on its rest stand, pushed his chair back and propped the heels of his booted feet on the edge of his massive mahogany desk, and grumbled a few swear words to himself. He’d tried to continue to pore over the pages in the ledgers after his solicitor left, but he hadn’t made much progress, and that made him irritated with himself. This work was important. He needed to understand how the Greyhawke estates worked, who worked them, and what they were worth before he made arrangements to visit them.

  But it was of no use for the rest of the day. He couldn’t concentrate. The numbers blurred and ran together until all he could see was the beautiful and inviting Miss Wright.

  Miss Wright.

  Who was so wrong for him.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about the way her supple body melted effortlessly against him, her soft sighs that were so pleasing to hear, or the sweet taste of her lips against his. And when he wasn’t thinking about how much he wanted to hold her and kiss her again, he was wondering what it must be like for her to live in a house where everyone seemed to dote on her as if she were a delicate flower that might lose its petals if the utmost care wasn’t taken.

  Damnation, he couldn’t even stop wondering why she used the cane in the first place. Her “unusual gait” didn’t seem that bad to him. And why couldn’t she have just answered a simple question? Why couldn’t she have just told him what had happened to her leg? It couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

  Maybe that was why he couldn’t get her off his mind. There were too many unanswered questions about her. Too many things for him to wonder about.

  Adam leaned back farther in his chair and laced his fingers together behind his head. It was maddening to be so consumed with her that he couldn’t adequately study what was right before his eyes. Why did his thoughts keep drifting back to Miss Wright?

  Not yet two weeks back in London and already a young lady had caught his attention and bewitched him. Hell, it was the last thing he wanted or needed. Even before Annie, there were many young ladies who’d set out to entice him, bewitch him, or seduce him. He’d known how to avoid them all. He didn’t believe Miss Wright had set out to do any of those things to him, not even to captivate him, yet she had done all of them without even trying.

  “She hadn’t even wanted to talk to me at first,” he whispered to himself. “I had to keep insisting.”

  He shouldn’t have kissed her. Adam rubbed his eyes, thinking that must have been the one hundredth time he’d thought that.

  But if he was going to, he should have kissed her tenderly, briefly, and let that be the end of it. He shouldn’t have been greedy and wanted more. He should have remembered that she was vulnerable, too. He should have respected the fact that it was her first kiss. But no, none of that mattered because of his eagerness to taste her. It had been so damned long since he’d met a lady he actually wanted to kiss that he hadn’t been able to control himself and give her a proper first kiss.

  Not that she’d seemed to notice or mind. He smiled to himself. No, she hadn’t minded at all. He supposed he was lucky he hadn’t frightened her with his ardent passion and sent her running inside to tell her uncles how he’d treated her.

  Sensing his master’s restlessness, Pharaoh looked up from where he lay in front of the low-burning fire and yawned. As if assuming Adam were talking to him, Pharaoh rose and ambled over to Adam’s chair. He sat proudly on his haunches and stared at Adam as if he were waiting for him to say more.

  And Adam did. “You know I wish I’d never kissed her,” he murmured into the quiet of the room.

  Pharaoh woofed low.

  “I knew it was a bad idea, but I couldn’t stop myself. All right, I didn’t try too hard. I didn’t want to. She was too tempting for me to resist anyway. I mean, she just had this way about her that drew me to her. And I might add, it didn’t help that she was more than ready and willing to receive her first kiss, which I admit I was more than happy to deliver, seeing as I was eager to taste her lips anyway. So now you understand why it’s all her fault I can’t get her out of my mind.”

  Pharaoh made a quarreling sound in his throat and then licked his chops and woofed again.

  “Yes,” Adam agreed with a smile. “She tasted very good, but I still shouldn’t have done it. She’s been nothing but a menace to my peace of mind—night and day. It’s damned frustrating,” he said, looking down at the dog. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just keep reliving the kiss as if I were still a schoolboy.”

  A movement caught Adam’s and Pharaoh’s attention at the same time, and they turned and looked toward the door. Dixon was standing quietly in the doorway, looking at Adam with his big brown eyes. If the lad had heard him talking to Pharaoh, he probably thought Adam was crazy.

  And maybe he was. Talking to a dog couldn’t be considered normal, but he’d often said things to Pharaoh when they’d lived at the cottage on the coast.

  “I don’t like her,” Dixon said.

  Adam looked hard at the boy and frowned. What was Dixon saying? He’d never even met Miss Wright.r />
  “How can you say you don’t like her? You don’t know her.”

  “She smells bad.”

  “What?” Adam brought his feet down onto the wooden floor with a loud thunk. He remembered the scent of freshly washed hair and lightly perfumed skin. “I can assure you she doesn’t.” He stared at Dixon with focused intensity. “What the devil are you—you aren’t talking about Miss Wright, are you?”

  Dixon shook his head. Pharaoh walked over to Dixon and sniffed around his knees and his shoes. As usual, Dixon stood perfectly still and made no move to pet or speak to the Pyrenees.

  “Mrs. Bernewelt,” his young cousin said.

  The governess.

  Now they were getting somewhere, but Adam couldn’t imagine that what Dixon was saying was true. The woman’s recommendation letters had been excellent. Most of them had not only praised her efficiency, politeness, and skills, but said she was extremely well liked by all the children she had been in charge of.

  “I want to go home,” Dixon said defiantly as he held his arms stiffly by his side and clenched his hands into small, tight fists.

  Adam let out an exasperated sigh. Why had fate forced a child upon him when he had no idea what to do with one? Adam had lived the life of a reckless youth, a daring rogue, a woefully unsuccessful husband, and a loner. None of those lives had prepared him to handle a child.

  “This is your home,” Adam said, and closed the book he’d left open on his desk.

  “It’s your home,” Dixon argued, remaining as stiff as the toy soldiers he played with.

  “And yours now, too,” Adam insisted sternly. “You have no other home, so there will be no more of that kind of talk. I’ll admit this isn’t a situation that either of us wanted, but no one asked us, and it is what it is. We’re both making adjustments, and we’re going to make the best of it until you are off to Eton in a few years. This is your home,” Adam said again for good measure.