Wedding Night With the Earl

by Amelia Grey

  “Not in the least,” she answered, searching his face, too. “Tell me, is your cousin visiting with you or does he live in London?”

  Two ladies and a gentleman strode past them as she spoke. Adam tipped his hat to them before answering, “Dixon lives with me. I am his guardian and he is my heir.”

  “Oh, I see. I had no idea. You must like children, Lord Greyhawke, to be responsible for someone so young.”

  “I had very little choice in the matter. He was orphaned.”

  Her smile faded and her eyes clouded. “Yes, that does make a difference. I’m sorry to hear that for him. It’s sad for someone so young to lose his parents.”

  Adam swore silently to himself. He realized he’d just been as insensitive to Miss Wright as Rudyard carrying a cane. He shouldn’t have mentioned that Dixon was an orphan.

  “I’m sure you know how he feels, Miss Wright,” Adam said softly, trying to convey with his tone and his expression that he hadn’t meant to bring up unhappy memories for her. “It couldn’t have been an easy time for either one of you.”

  “I’ve found that life goes on, and so will he.” She reached down and rubbed the top of Pharaoh’s head again but didn’t speak.

  “No doubt your uncles and aunt have done much better caring for you than I have for Dixon,” Adam said, remembering his earlier conversation with his cousin.

  “I’m not sure I would agree with that. I fear they have coddled me unnecessarily and for way too long.”

  “At least they know how to do it. I fear I don’t cosset enough. I know nothing about children.”

  She looked up at him with a tender smile. “Most people don’t until they live with them. How long has he been with you?”

  “A short time. He will be under my care until he is old enough to go away to school.”

  “I’m sure you are doing all you need to do. He seems happy.” She stopped rubbing Pharaoh and he woofed at her. She laughed and patted him again. “Oh, you are a greedy ruler when it comes to affection, aren’t you?” she said to the dog.

  Adam had never seen Pharaoh take to anyone as fast as he had to Miss Wright. But then Adam had never taken to anyone as he had Miss Wright, either.

  “I’m puzzled about something.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Why did you fall when I stepped away from you last night?”

  “I didn’t have my cane,” she said innocently, and continued to give Pharaoh her attention.

  Something didn’t seem to fit. Adam looked at Miss Wright. From what he could see of her feet beneath the tail of her skirt, both legs were firmly planted on the ground, equally sharing her weight.

  “You seem to be standing with very little support from your cane right now. And I watched you as you approached a few minutes ago. You’re walking well. Do you never walk without your cane?”

  She straightened and reopened her parasol. “No.”

  Adam lifted his hand and tipped his hat to two elderly gentlemen and a lady who were passing by and then waited until they were a distance away before he said, “You don’t ever walk without your cane? Not even in the privacy of your bedchamber?”

  “No,” she said again, and stepped back from him and Pharaoh. “I always use my cane.”

  “Why?”

  Her brows drew together. She seemed confused by his question for a moment. “I’m not supposed to. After I fell down the stairs, the doctors, my uncles, my aunt, everyone said I must never stand or walk without it again, and I haven’t.”

  “When did that fall happen?”

  “A couple of years after the accident.” Her gaze looked past him, as if she were drawing something from the depths of her memory. “I remember my leg was finally healing. I was able to walk a little without any help. One day I was at the top of the stairs.” She paused and twirled the handle of her parasol in her hand and shook her head. “I don’t really remember how, exactly, but I fell down the stairs and reinjured my leg. I don’t know if I tripped, or my leg gave way beneath me or what happened, but I haven’t walked without the cane since.”

  “Would you like to try?”

  At that moment, she tilted her head so that the brim of her hat couldn’t shield her face from the sun. Adam was struck by her softness and beauty. Once again he thought about how much he enjoyed being with her and how stimulating it was talking to her, how much he wanted to pull her close and kiss her again.

  “What? No.” She laughed lightly. “I told you I can’t. I’ve been told by everyone not to. I don’t know why you are obsessed about the problem with my leg, but you need to think of something else to talk about.”

  Adam considered her words. He supposed it was natural for her aunt and uncles to treat her so delicately. She was the only survivor of her family. And then in her uncle’s house, she fell and injured herself again. He could see how they would insist she use the cane so that it wouldn’t happen again. But Adam wasn’t ready to give up on her.

  “I think you could walk without any aid,” he said.

  “Thank you for telling me that,” she said dryly.

  “I’m serious. How do you know you can’t if you haven’t tried?” Pharaoh strained to sniff around Miss Wright’s feet, so Adam unwound the leash to give the dog a little more freedom. “And, I believe I can teach you to dance, Miss Wright.”

  Making no effort to hide her incredulous expression, she said, “I refuse to have that conversation again with you, my lord.”

  “Meet me tonight in your uncle’s garden and I’ll teach you.”

  “What? Do you realize you are suggesting I meet you in secret?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” An easy, natural smile came to his lips. “We met on his front lawn at his dinner party last night.”

  “That was by accident,” she reminded him. “We didn’t plan it and we won’t plan anything of the kind.”

  He had learned a little more about her, but not nearly enough. Everything about her intrigued him. And he knew he couldn’t push her too hard about learning to dance. But if he eased her into the idea, maybe she would trust him enough to give it a try.

  It was odd to him, but he supposed if someone told you long enough and often enough that you couldn’t do something, in time you would believe what you’d been told.

  “All right, I accept your answer of no—for now. Tell me, is Viscount Rudyard one of the gentlemen who have tried to kiss you?”

  Her beautiful mouth made the shape of an O of surprise. “I’m not commenting about that either.”

  Satisfied, he said, “You don’t have to now. What you said gives me my answer.”

  She gazed at him with her dazzling green eyes. He could tell he had perturbed her.

  “It does no such thing,” she insisted.

  One corner of his mouth tilted up in a half grin and he folded his arms across his chest. “I think it does, and you saying otherwise won’t make me change my mind.”

  “Oh, I should have never told you that other gentlemen had wanted to kiss me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I answered another of your probing, personal questions and now you will be constantly asking me about the gentlemen when it is none of your concern. It was my misfortune that you caught me at a weak moment.”

  “I told you. I’m interested. In you. I want to know about your injury, and about the accident. What your life was like before you came to live with your uncle. I want to know who has tried to kiss you.”

  Her gaze swept back to his. “Those are all personal questions, my lord. Are you prepared to answer other personal questions for me if I answer yours?”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Wright.”

  “And you, sir, are downright meddlesome at times.”

  Adam frowned. “I have been called a lot of things in my life, but never meddlesome. But all right, I will put myself at risk once again.”

  “You at risk?” She titled her head back and laughed heartily. “I don’t see that ever happeni
ng.”

  “Only for you. Ask me something personal.”

  “All right, let me think. Ah, I know. All the young ladies want to know if you have come to London to make a match.”

  “No. What part of your leg is injured?”

  “My hip and my knee. So why did you come back to London if not to look for a wife?”

  “To meet with my solicitors and learn more about the estates that are now entrusted to my care as the Earl of Greyhawke. How many gentlemen have tried to kiss you?”

  She looked puzzled for a moment, then pursed her lips before saying, “I really don’t know.”

  Adam was skeptical of her answer, so he pressed her. “Two, four, six, or eight?”

  “At least that many. Maybe more.”

  That raised his eyebrows a little higher.

  “How many more?”

  Frustrated, she said, “I haven’t kept count, my lord. This is my third Season, and as my uncle keeps reminding me, I have rejected the offers and affections of almost every eligible gentleman in London.”

  And she had let only him kiss her. Adam smiled. That pleased him.

  “Do you plan to marry again?” she asked.

  That question surprised Adam, too. He hesitated briefly and then said, “No. Did Rudyard try to kiss you?”

  “Yes.” Her gaze held tightly on his. “Why won’t you consider marrying again?”

  Adam hesitated when he realized that for a second he’d actually thought about telling her the reasons he never wanted to marry again. He had never wanted to reveal that much of himself to anyone, and thankfully he didn’t have to decide at this moment.

  “Here you are, Miss Wright,” the viscount said with a satisfied smile as he hurried up beside her. “I couldn’t decide which sweet cake to purchase for you, so I bought the whole basket. And I hope you don’t mind, my lord, but I couldn’t get one for her and not get the same for Dixon.”

  Adam looked down and grunted ruefully. Dixon held a small basket in one hand and a half-eaten tart in the other. Crumbs had collected from one side of his mouth to the other cheek and down the front of his coat. Pharaoh smelled the treats and nudged Dixon’s basket with his nose. The lad turned the basket away from the Pyrenees but then in a show of kindness gave the dog his half-eaten tart. In one bite Pharaoh swallowed it and woofed for more.

  “I don’t mind at all,” Adam said.

  “Good. Well, we must get back to the carriage now, if you’ll excuse us, Lord Greyhawke.”

  Adam tipped his hat to them. “I enjoyed our discussion, Miss Wright.”

  Her gaze zeroed in on his for only a second as she said, “It was enlightening for me.” She glanced down at the overstuffed basket of sweets and then back to the viscount and smiled. “These look delicious, Lord Rudyard. I shall have one as soon as I’m settled into the carriage. And thank you for getting enough for me to share.”

  Rudyard beamed at her pleasure.

  Miss Wright pulled a sweet cake from the basket and held it out to Pharaoh. “Here you are, Your Majesty.”

  Once again the Pyrenees gulped down the pastry, barked his thanks, and woofed for more.

  “I think you’ve had enough,” Adam said.

  Miss Wright’s gaze caught his once more before she turned away.

  Adam felt a knot in his stomach as they left. Rudyard had been a tip-top gentleman about the predicament Adam had forced on him. He recalled that Rudyard was good at billiards and most card games, too. Adam couldn’t remember him ever betting too heavily. He wouldn’t waste Miss Wright’s fortune. Since Adam couldn’t contemplate pursuing her, the man would probably be a suitable match for her.

  That didn’t mean he had to like it.

  “She smells nice,” Dixon said.

  Adam swallowed hard. “That she does.”

  Chapter 15

  O Opportunity, thy guilt is great!

  —The Rape of Lucrece, 876

  The ladies could do a lot of knitting and embroidery in two hours. A lot of discussing books, music, poetry, and their favorite topic: gentlemen. With some of them, the more they talked, the faster their fingers and hands worked, and that was always good for the orphanage basket.

  Katherine settled into the straight-backed chair and glanced around the drawing room. She looked forward to the afternoons it was her time to host the Wilted Tea Society. With more than twenty young ladies in the group, it didn’t come around to her often, but whenever it did, she enjoyed it immensely. She loved the sounds of the chatter, laughter, and clinking of delicate teacups hitting saucers sounding throughout the usually quiet house.

  Tea and scones had been served and devoured, and now all the ladies had found a comfortable place to sit. Madeline and Penny were on Katherine’s left. Barbara, Jane, and Agatha sat on the settee in front of her, and Rosemarie, Darlene, and Fern were seated to her right. The group was smaller than usual, which was normal for their meetings during the Season. On any given week, there were always three or four young ladies who missed their regular Tuesday afternoon assemblies in favor of accepting an invitation to a card party or a garden social or, if they were lucky enough, a ride in the park with a handsome gentleman.

  Every time they met, each lady was to bring an item of clothing as well as whatever she had made for the orphanage that week. Katherine had started today’s basket by depositing the three children’s scarves she’d knitted during the week, a small woolen cape, and a chocolate-colored shawl.

  She had checked the basket she’d left by the door before she sat down and had been pleased with the contents. The ladies had been generous with their donations today. By the time she convinced Aunt Leola and her two uncles to pilfer their wardrobes again for castoffs to be added, she would have an overflowing basket to take to the orphanage later in the week.

  Since Madeline had been the one to start the group, she’d always insisted that any young lady who wanted to tell them about what had happened to her since the last time they met must have the opportunity to do so. Madeline considered it a good way to get the group talking together about the latest gossip and gentlemen, which were the two topics most of them were interested in hearing about anyway.

  Penny went first, excited to tell them all about her ride in the park with Mr. Hugo Underwood. It was easy to tell the gentleman had made quite the impression on her. There was a rosy glow to her cheeks and an unusual sparkle in her eyes.

  Then she went on to tell whom she’d danced with at the balls of the past week and which interesting gentlemen she had been presented to—including, at the Duke of Quillsbury’s dinner party, the Earl of Greyhawke. Much to Katherine’s consternation, Penny added that she had not been lucky enough to talk with the earl at any length, as Katherine had, and that perhaps Katherine might want to enlighten the ladies as to what she and the earl had had to say to each other. Especially since they had conversed for a very long time.

  That statement, of course, prompted Madeline to ask Katherine to expand on what Penny had said. Tired of the troublesome questions directed at her about His Lordship, Katherine decided to turn the tables on them and ask a few questions of her own.

  “I’m glad you mentioned that, Penny,” she said to the redhead. “As it happens, I haven’t seen Lord Greyhawke at any of the parties except for my uncle’s. Am I just missing him? Has anyone else seen him at a gathering since that night?”

  Katherine was careful how she’d worded that last question. She had seen Lord Greyhawke, of course, but it was at the park, not at a party. She had looked for him every night, hoping he would make an appearance so she could talk with him again and maybe somehow find a way to kiss him again.

  The question brought low murmurings around the room.

  “I haven’t seen him either,” Madeline concurred. “That’s rather odd, isn’t it? We can only assume the reason he came back to London for the Season was to make a match. I mean, what other reason could there be? And how can he settle on a lady and make a match if he’s not attending the parties
to meet us and dance with us?”

  “I know the rumor was that after his wife died, he said he’d never marry again,” Barbara said.

  “Who could blame him?”

  “But that was before he became an earl,” Fern added quickly to what Madeline said.

  “Yes, surely he will want to marry now,” Penny said thoughtfully. “He’ll need an heir to inherit the title.”

  Darlene laughed. “But you are now interested in Mr. Underwood, aren’t you, Penny?”

  “She’s interested in any gentleman who is interested in her,” Barbara said with a smirk.

  “As we all are,” Madeline reminded them.

  Katherine remained quiet and let the ladies talk and enjoy themselves. She also made note of the fact that Dixon must not be common knowledge around Town. The earl had said his cousin was his heir. Surely if any of the ladies had known about him, they would have spoken up. Katherine smiled. Or maybe, like her, there were some other ladies keeping quiet about what they might know about the mysterious Lord Greyhawke.

  And that thought caused Katherine to take a hard look at the faces of each lady in the room. Had the earl kissed any of them? And if he had, had he kissed them with the same passion he’d kissed her?

  “Then I’ll just have to find out where he is hiding and remind him that I’m young, strong, and available to bear his heirs,” Agatha said.

  Several of the ladies laughed, and the conversation continued on the light side, with most of them taking aim at the missing earl.

  Katherine was not about to tell them she’d asked the earl that very question about why he’d come to London and he’d said he hadn’t come back to make a match. It wasn’t up to her to disappoint them and take away the hope that they just might be the one for him. Like the other ladies, she’d found herself wishing that he had returned in need of a wife, because Katherine was in need of a husband.