Wedding Night With the Earl

by Amelia Grey

  As if bored with the lack of interesting scents on Dixon’s person, Pharaoh wandered back to his favorite place to lie down and curl up in front of the low-burning fire.

  Dixon remained quiet and made no move to leave the doorway.

  “All right,” Adam said in a tone softer than his previous one. “Tell me, how does she smell?”

  “It’s her hands.”

  “That doesn’t tell me much. What specifically?”

  The boy’s eyes widened and he looked around the room as if he were searching for someone or something that could magically aid his thoughts on the matter.

  “Fish?” Adam asked, hoping to prompt Dixon into remembering the foul odor.

  He shook his head.

  “Onion?”

  Dixon shook his head again and still refused to offer any help as to what the scent might be.

  “Vinegar? Lavender? Wine? Urine? How the devil am I supposed to know what you smell if you can’t tell me?” Adam stopped and let out a long, exasperated sigh. “What am I saying?” he mumbled to himself. “I don’t even want to know what you are smelling.”

  The lad’s eyes turned glassy and his bottom lip began to tremble. Oh, hell. Adam hadn’t meant to upset him. In different way, Dixon could be just as frustrating as Miss Wright.

  “You’ve got to talk to me, Dixon. I can’t read your mind or know what you are thinking just by looking at you.”

  Adam breathed in deeply again, rose from his chair, and strode over to the fireplace, and picked up the poker. He jabbed at the burning wood, moving it around and making it flame once more. His ill temper was Miss Wright’s fault, not Dixon’s. She had him as irritable as an old blacksmith who’d just flattened his thumb with a hammer.

  “My mum rubbed it on my chest one time when I was coughing,” Dixon said into the quietness.

  Adam turned back to him. “Some type of liniment? Camphor, maybe? That has a strong scent.”

  Dixon shrugged as if it might be but he was still unsure. “It’s on her hands. I smell it when she buttons my coats or points to words in my books.”

  The old woman probably had aches in her finger joints and used the ointment to help ease the pain. If that was the cause, he couldn’t fault her for trying to find some comfort.

  He supposed he could speak to an apothecary about this and see if the man could give him something that would help Mrs. Bernewelt that didn’t have such a powerful odor. But how in the hell would he suggest to the woman she use it? He wouldn’t. He’d give it to Clark and have the butler handle it with Mrs. Bernewelt.

  “It might take me a few days, but I’ll look into it and see what I can do. All right?”

  Dixon nodded.

  Adam replaced the poker in its stand and looked out the window. The sky was a striking blue. A rare sight for a cold April afternoon.

  An idea popped into his mind, and without taking time to think about it, he turned to Dixon and said, “Why don’t we take Pharaoh for a walk in Hyde Park? Want to do that?”

  There was no smile, no joy, just: “Can I take my soldiers?”

  Adam considered his request. “Two of them. One for each pocket. Fair enough?”

  Dixon bobbed his head again.

  Adam didn’t know what to do to get Dixon to talk more and nod less. He supposed he’d have to depend on the schoolmasters at Eton to get him out of that habit and teach him to answer with words.

  “All right, go find Mrs. Bernewelt and have her get your coat, gloves, hat, and meet me by the front door.”

  Perhaps a brisk walk in the cold air would be good for clearing his mind. Returning to London had not gone at all as he’d expected. He’d come with the intention of melding back into Society as a gentleman, an earl, and learning about his estates. That was damned hard to do when his mind was full of Miss Katherine Wright.

  Half an hour later, Adam, Dixon, and Pharaoh entered the park alongside other pedestrian traffic and started making their way across the wide expanse of land. The walk from Mayfair had been tedious. Adam and Pharaoh had wanted to go much faster than Dixon’s short legs would allow. Adam had been tempted on more than one occasion to pick him up and carry him.

  Until they’d come to London, Pharaoh had never been on a leash. The dog still wasn’t used to being harnessed and not free to roam wherever he wished. He pulled and strained at various times, trying to break free of Adam’s firm hold so that he could scout out the bushes, doorways, and streets unfettered.

  The only thing Adam knew about little boys was what he remembered from being one. Though he didn’t recall ever having a problem speaking, as Dixon seemed to have. He knew the best thing he’d liked about the large park was having a meat pie or sweetened biscuit while he enjoyed watching a puppet show, looking at jugglers toss several bottles in the air at the same time, or seeing some kind of rare animal that had been caught, caged, and put on display for anyone having a coin to see.

  Adam stopped to scan the vast area before him, hoping to see where there might be a group of children playing or where a crowd had gathered, anything that might signal some kind of entertainment. All he saw was the usual milling people, standing and chatting, strolling, or sitting on a blanket, enjoying refreshments. There were riders on horseback, hackneys, curricles, and fancy painted carriages of all types and sizes, but nothing to indicate amusement for a youngster.

  Though the skies were clear and sunny, there remained a cool nip in the air. It didn’t seem to bother Dixon. He had his gloves off and his soldiers in his hands, pretending they were shooting at each other. Adam decided they needed to go deeper into the park.

  They hadn’t gone but a few steps when in the distance Adam saw a young lady walking with a cane coming toward him. His stomach did a slow roll. It was Miss Wright. He stopped short again. Pharaoh pulled on the leash, urging his master to keep going, but Adam held tight.

  It was clear fate was not through with him. She was the last person he wanted to meet in the park. Correction, she was the last person he needed to see. With several hundred people roaming the grounds, what were the odds of him running into her in a park the size of Hyde? If he’d been looking for her, he probably couldn’t have found her come hell or high water. But because he wasn’t, she was walking straight toward him.

  Looking beautiful.

  Her long black cape flared out behind her. With every step she took, the flounces on her carriage dress fluttered like small leaves caught on a summer breeze. Her short-brimmed bonnet was made from the same fetching sprigged fabric as her dress. She held the handle of a fancy, ruffled and beribboned parasol in one hand and the handle of her cane in the other.

  A moment or two later, he realized someone walked beside her. Adam glanced over at the tall, rather slim gentleman. He recognized Mr. Martin Rudyard. Adam remembered the man from the gaming tables at White’s and the Heirs’ Club but didn’t know him well. Unlike Adam, the man was a member of the club and not a guest. He was a likable fellow who was maybe a year or two younger than Adam. Rudyard was friendly but didn’t try to insert himself into anyone else’s affairs.

  Somehow it didn’t seem right that Adam was trying to forget about her and here she was, walking straight toward him and filling him with the desire to pull her into his arms and smother her with kisses.

  Fate was a fickle bird. He wished it would just make up its mind how it wanted to treat him.

  There was plenty of time for Adam to divert his course before the two reached him. And after last night, he figured that was exactly what he should do. He didn’t need her consuming his thoughts any more than she already was. And she didn’t need him teaching her any more about the ways of kissing.

  It would be the best thing for both of them if he turned away so they wouldn’t meet.

  Now.

  But Adam still had just enough rogue in him not to want to do what was right, but to do what he wanted.

  Chapter 14

  Our doubts are traitors

  And make us lose the good we
oft might win

  By fearing to attempt.

  —Measure for Measure, act 1, scene 4

  His peace of mind be damned for the moment.

  The closer she came, the more Adam wanted to stay and see her. She looked so incredibly fresh and lovely, he had to resist the impulse to rush and greet her with a kiss.

  Adam knew the second Miss Wright looked up and saw him standing directly in her pathway. Her eyes widened and brightened. She smiled at him. His lower stomach tightened and a slow throb started in his loins. Obviously she wasn’t angry with him about their late night kisses.

  He watched her glance stray briefly to Pharaoh and then over to Dixon, who stood by his side, completely engrossed in whatever war was going on between the two soldiers in his hands.

  “Pharaoh, sit.” The dog immediately obeyed and settled on his haunches by Adam’s legs. Adam wound the excess length of the leash around his hand so Pharaoh had little choice but to stay right beside him. He didn’t want the Pyrenees to frighten Miss Wright. Pharaoh had never liked strangers and would bark and growl if they came too close to Adam.

  “Stay, Pharaoh,” he added firmly, and took off his hat as Miss Wright and Mr. Rudyard stopped in front of him.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Wright.”

  “My lord,” she answered, giving him a curtsy.

  “Mr. Rudyard,” he said, noticing that the man stood so close to Miss Wright that if she moved a fraction of an inch, her parasol would knock his top hat off his head.

  Rudyard bowed and said graciously, “My lord, it’s now Viscount Rudyard.” And that was when Adam noticed that the dandy carried a cane. Not to help him walk, as in Miss Wright’s case, but as an accessory to his clothing. The ornate brass handle was hooked over his forearm. The shaft was a highly polished wood that looked as if it could be ebony. There was a fancy, three-inch brass tip on the bottom. Perhaps Miss Wright didn’t think it was insensitive of him to carry such an adornment in her presence, but Adam did.

  “My apologies, my lord,” Adam said tightly, and in turn gave the man an appropriate bow for his title. “I hadn’t heard about your father.”

  “No offense taken,” Rudyard said, seeming oblivious to Adam’s irritation. “I know you haven’t been in London long. In fact, it was only just last night that I heard you’d returned. Though I see you have been in Town long enough to have met Miss Wright.”

  Though his words weren’t challenging and his manner was mild, something in Rudyard’s tone bothered Adam. Or maybe it was just the fact that the viscount happened to be with Miss Wright that bothered Adam.

  “Yes,” Miss Wright offered when Adam didn’t immediately respond. “He was at the duke’s dinner party.”

  “Ah, I see,” the viscount said, looking up at Adam before shifting his attention back to his companion. “No one ever declines an invitation to the duke’s house for dinner, do they, Miss Wright?”

  “I should hope not,” she answered pleasantly.

  “I suppose the balls and festivities of the Season brought you back to London, Lord Greyhawke?”

  “I’ve had other things to address,” Adam responded, and then looked over at Miss Wright, saying, “You seem to be walking well today. Is your leg all right?”

  “Yes, thank you, my lord, all is well.”

  Her gaze stayed on his and he said, “That’s good to hear,” and he wondered if, like him, she was remembering the passionate kisses they shared just before she had fallen. And he wondered if, like him, she was wishing for more of those kisses right now.

  The spring chill had added a lovely blush to her ivory cheeks, and her lips were such a tempting shade of pink. Adam had a devil of a time keeping his gaze from straying to them. She was downright fetching with the dainty parasol resting on her shoulder and framing her as if she were a portrait.

  Adam cleared his throat and said, “May I present my cousin Master Dixon Greyhawke.”

  Clutching his soldiers, Dixon properly greeted the viscount and Miss Wright. Rudyard tipped his hat and nodded to Dixon, but Miss Wright bent down to meet him on his eye level and said, “I’m happy to make your acquaintance, Master Dixon. You are a fine-looking young man and with such pleasant manners. How old are you?”

  “Five,” he said, trying to hold up all his fingers and thumb without dropping his soldier.

  “Only five? You are very tall for your age. I would have guessed you to be much older.”

  Dixon’s chest puffed out. He twisted around, looked up at Adam, and smiled. A short, quiet laugh of disbelief blew from his throat. Dixon had been with Adam for at least six weeks, and in all that time he’d never once seen the child smile. Now, after mere seconds in Miss Wright’s presence, she had him grinning from ear to ear. How did she do it?

  She straightened and looked down at Pharaoh as she closed her parasol and tucked it under her arm. “What is your friend’s name, Lord Greyhawke?”

  “Pharaoh.”

  “A ruler. An apt name for him. He’s very tall and handsome and has the look of a long regal heritage, don’t you think?”

  Before Adam realized what she was going to do, she extended her hand to the Pyrenees. Fearful Pharaoh might snap at her, Adam reached out to stop her, but he was too late. But rather than nip at her as Adam expected, Pharaoh sniffed her gloved hand as if she were a longtime friend. Adam grunted another short laugh. Even Pharaoh had been immediately seduced by Miss Wright’s charms. Now she had enchanted his entire family.

  She rubbed Pharaoh’s head and said to him, “I’m overcome with envy, Your Highness. I’ve always wished I had golden-blond hair the color of yours. But, alas, I was destined to have very dark auburn hair just like my mother. No doubt you are the color of your mother, too.”

  Adam liked the way Miss Wright looked at Pharaoh, the way she gently rubbed him and talked to the Pyrenees. Adam liked the softness of her voice and her calm demeanor as she soothed and petted the dog. Adam could tell Pharaoh liked her, too.

  While she patted Pharaoh’s shoulder, her gaze caught Adam’s with a questioning expression. “I feel something,” she said. “Are those scars beneath his hair?”

  “He was being abused when I found him. I’m surprised he didn’t snap at you when you reached out to him. It usually takes a while for him to trust anyone.”

  “Well, no one can blame him for that. I’d be wary of strangers, too, if I had been mistreated by anyone.”

  “You are much too beautiful for anyone to ever contemplate ill-treating you, Miss Wright,” Lord Rudyard said possessively, inserting himself back into the conversation. “And we really should be going. So, if you’ll excuse us, my lord…”

  Letting the viscount have the last word didn’t sit well with Adam, so he said, “I was hoping to find a puppet show or maybe a juggler to entertain Dixon for a few minutes. Did you pass by anything going on in the park that might hold the interest of a youngster?”

  “No,” the viscount said, seeming to study on the question before answering. “I’m afraid not. Though we didn’t go very far into the park. I didn’t want to take a long walk for fear it would be too tiring for Miss Wright, you understand.”

  At Rudyard’s comment, Miss Wright glanced over at Adam and softly bit down on her bottom lip. He had the feeling she didn’t appreciate the viscount’s inference that she couldn’t walk for an extended time because she used a cane. Adam didn’t blame her. He didn’t appreciate the implication either.

  “I had hoped to find a vendor,” the slim man continued. “I wanted to buy Miss Wright a sweet scone or fruit tart, something delicious to please her. But we didn’t find one.”

  “I can help you with that, my lord,” Adam said. “There’s one over by the east gate. We passed it coming in.”

  “Kind of you to mention that, but I really don’t want to exhaust Miss Wright by making her walk that far after we’ve already had quite a trek this afternoon.”

  “I don’t think you should,” Adam agreed. “I would be happy to stay here with
her while you go pick out something for her to enjoy on the ride back to her home.”

  Clearly perturbed, the viscount adjusted the position of the cane on his forearm as his eyes darted from Adam to Miss Wright. “Well, I suppose I could. Would you like me to do that for you?”

  “No, no, of course not,” she said with a concerned expression on her lovely face. “Why should you do all that extra walking for me when it’s not on our way to your carriage? Absolutely not. It’s far too much trouble, and I won’t hear of it.”

  Rudyard shifted his stance. “Nonsense,” he said. “It’s not any trouble at all. It’s settled. I wanted to buy you something sweet before we left, so I shall go. No bother at all.” He gave Adam a determined look. “Thank you, my lord.”

  “Happy to mention it to you, Lord Rudyard,” Adam said, pulling his coin purse from his coat pocket. “Would you mind if Dixon went with you? I’m sure he’d like to pick out a refreshment, too, since there doesn’t seem to be any entertainment in the park this afternoon. Right, Dixon?”

  The lad looked up at him and nodded.

  “Ah, well…,” the viscount hedged as he looked at Dixon. Finally, he said, “Of course I don’t mind.” Lord Rudyard squared his shoulders and added, “And please, put your coins away, Lord Greyhawke, I’ll take care of this for the boy. Leave it all to me.”

  “Thank you, my lord. That’s very kind of you. I’ll remember and return the favor.”

  “That won’t be necessary, I assure you. Come along, Master Dixon.” He glanced at Miss Wright and smiled. “I won’t be gone long.”

  The viscount didn’t know how slowly Dixon walked, Adam thought, but he’d find out.

  “Did you send Lord Rudyard away on purpose, my lord?” Miss Wright asked when the unlikely duo was far enough away that they couldn’t hear her speak.

  “Would it bother you if I did?”

  She tilted her head back. “I asked first and you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Ah, so we are back to the same kind of conversation we had before, are we not? All right, because I can be a gentleman from time to time, I will make up for my earlier error and answer your question first. Of course I sent him away on purpose. How else was I to have a few moments alone with you?” Adam’s gaze swept slowly up and down her face. “Now, does it bother you that I did?”