Wedding Night With the Earl

by Amelia Grey

  “Do they still believe that our presence is going to somehow tarnish this sacred club?”

  “That is probably a good bet, too, but that isn’t what I’m talking about either. Did you read The Times today?”

  “No,” Adam said on a laugh. “I’m still trying to get through years of account books and documentation, trying to familiarize myself with the Greyhawke estates and businesses and how they work.” Bray looked a bit serious, so Adam added, “Why?”

  “I take it, then, you haven’t seen the scandal sheets or any of the gossip columns today?”

  Damnation, Adam didn’t even want to think about that. He had a feeling he knew what Bray was talking about. He grabbed his tankard by the handle and took a drink, then replaced it on the table before saying, “If I had time to read the news, the latest tittle-tattle wouldn’t be the first section I’d go to. I can assume by the expression on your face that I’m mentioned in at least one of them.”

  “All of them, actually, according to Louisa. I took her word for it. And you weren’t mentioned alone.”

  That confirmed Adam’s fear. He shifted in his chair. “I expected as much. What did they say?”

  Bray motioned to the server for a drink. “That after most everyone had left the Duke of Quillsbury’s dinner party, you were caught holding Miss Wright in your arms.”

  “Hellfire,” he whispered.

  “So it’s true?”

  “Yes, it’s true,” Adam said, swearing again under his breath. “But I was carrying her because she had fallen. I had picked her up.”

  Bray remained silent, his features stoic.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “No, no, I do,” Bray said, leaning back in his chair as the server placed a tankard of ale in front of him. “If you say it, I believe it. You have no reason to lie to me.”

  “She uses a cane, you know.”

  “Everyone knows,” Bray said dryly.

  “I assume her walking is unsteady at times. The truth is, I don’t know why she fell. Maybe it was because she was on uneven ground.”

  “So she was outside when she fell?”

  “Yes.”

  “With you?” Bray asked.

  “At the time. Yes. And just so you know, her uncles were quite pleased I picked her up and carried her into the house. Unfortunately, her uncles weren’t the only ones who saw me do that. Three other gentlemen were also there.”

  “Obviously one of them decided to talk about it.”

  Adam leaned over the table. “If I knew which one, I’d—”

  “Do nothing,” Bray cut him off. “That would only stir up more gossip for the two of you, and it sounds as if you have more than you can handle for now.”

  “More? Why do you say that?”

  “One of the scandal sheets wrote something outlandish about you and Miss Wright exchanging dinner plates at the duke’s table. What kind of madness will the gossipmongers come up with next?” Bray paused. “You didn’t, did you?… You did.”

  “It’s a long story and best told when we’re old and gray and have nothing better to talk about. That is not important, but she really fell.” And he was still trying to figure out why, when by all he could tell from watching her, she could probably walk without that cane if she tried.

  Adam took a long drink from his tankard. He wondered how Miss Wright was handling this debacle. She was the strongest young lady he could remember ever meeting, but no young lady would be immune to the horrors of having gossip spread about her.

  “I believe you, but why did she fall?” Bray asked.

  “I don’t know. And that is the truth. Was there anything else written?” Adam asked cautiously.

  “Wasn’t that enough?” Bray’s eyes narrowed. “What else could there be? Wait a minute. You didn’t kiss her, did you?”

  Oh, yes!

  Adam remained silent.

  “Tell me you didn’t kiss her. And at the duke’s house.… You did. You probably kissed her right under his nose.”

  “On her front lawn,” Adam said, knowing there was no use denying it to Bray. They had been friends too long to try to hide anything from him. “I’m surprised that wasn’t mentioned. Somehow they seemed to have heard everything else.”

  “If you kissed her on her front lawn, you can probably expect to see that in the scandal sheets tomorrow.”

  Adam didn’t even want to consider that possibility.

  “Were you trying to leg shackle yourself?”

  “No,” Adam insisted.

  “Were you trying to ruin her reputation?” Bray pressed him again.

  Adam stiffened. “You know better than to even suggest that. I wanted to kiss her, so I did. That is all there is to it. A simple kiss.”

  Maybe it wasn’t so simple.

  “Perhaps you should have at least waited until the second or third time you saw her before you kissed her.”

  Waited? He wished he hadn’t done it at all.

  He couldn’t explain it, but Adam felt as if it were the third time he’d seen her. They’d had three separate meetings and conversations over the course of the evening. And by the third, he felt as though he’d always known her, that they had been waiting for the right time to kiss.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Adam studied over Bray’s question. “There is nothing for me to do. The truth is, she fell. I picked her up. Her uncles believe that. She can weather this,” he continued, but he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself or Bray. “Her uncles were happy I was carrying her, and I suspect His Grace can quiet the ton if he so chooses.”

  “And what about next time?”

  “What?”

  “You know what I mean. What about the next time you kiss her? And don’t try to tell me that you have decided you are no longer interested in her.”

  Oh, there was interest all right. All he was thinking right now was that he wanted to see her and make sure she was all right. He wanted to know that she was handling the gossip the way she handled her “unusual gait,” with strength that said, This will not defeat me. She didn’t appear to be the kind of young lady who would hide from Society at the first sign of gossip.

  But he couldn’t be sure.

  And no matter how much he wanted to see her, he couldn’t. He was as involved in her life as he wanted to get. There was something about her that had touched him deep in his soul the moment he saw her standing by the dance floor, and that hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had grown stronger. He must keep his distance from her, stay focused on the work he was doing with his solicitors, and then leave London and start touring his estates just as he had planned.

  Whenever he was with her, he felt good. Happy, even. He wanted to get close to her, touch her hand, her cheek, just touch her. Feeling those things could only take him places with her he didn’t want to go. He couldn’t let himself become a part of whatever concerned her.

  The hell of it was that Miss Wright was wrong for him.

  “Here comes Harrison,” Bray said.

  Adam leaned back in his chair and winced inside. No doubt he’d have to go through the entire conversation again. Sometimes having best friends was a damned nuisance.

  He drained the tankard and motioned for another drink.

  Chapter 17

  ’Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door; but ’tis enough, ’twill serve.

  —Romeo and Juliet, act 3, scene 1

  Katherine, her maid, and her driver climbed the six steps that led to the front door of the large building that housed the small Potts Orphanage. They had been there three times before when it was Katherine’s turn to collect the clothing articles from the Wilted Tea ladies, so they knew the routine.

  There was no use grasping the heavy iron door knocker because no one would answer it. The house was left unlocked during the day. If you had business inside, you simply went in and looked around until you found someone who could help you. Thankfully, they already knew where to deposi
t the clothing in the drafty old structure.

  The foyer was an empty, sizable square room that had several corridors leading off it. The long corridors were mostly empty rooms, too. She remembered walking down three of them before she found someone to talk to the first time they visited. Mrs. Potts had told Katherine that she could fill the rooms with children if only she had the money and staff to do so.

  As they passed one of the corridors, Katherine heard a voice that caused her to stop and look down the passageway. Her heart started beating a little faster. The man sounded just like the Earl of Greyhawke.

  But why would he be at an orphanage?

  Her maid and driver stopped, too. “No,” she told them. “You two go ahead and deliver the baskets. I will either catch up with you in a few minutes or meet you back at the front door.”

  She stared down the wide corridor. The voices seemed to be coming from about the third door down. It probably wasn’t him, Katherine tried to convince herself. But she had to be sure. And even if it wasn’t His Lordship, she wanted to see the man who sounded so much like the elusive earl.

  Slowly and with soft footsteps, she turned and tiptoed down the corridor. She didn’t know why she was walking so softly or slowly. It wasn’t as if she planned to eavesdrop on the conversation and didn’t want anyone to know she was there. She simply wanted to get closer and see who was in that room. Cautiously, she took a few more steps, then stopped when she saw the man was backing out of the doorway, talking to someone.

  “Yes, Mrs. Potts. I would appreciate that. I look forward to hearing from you on the matter.”

  He turned and stopped in his tracks when he saw her standing in the middle of the corridor not a dozen paces in front of him. Her skin prickled with anticipation. He held his black greatcoat over his arm and his hat in his hand. Katherine had never seen him look more dashingly handsome in fawn-colored riding breeches with shiny black knee-high boots and a camel-colored waistcoat and coat. And as certain as she knew her name, by his expression, Katherine knew that Lord Greyhawke was glad to see her. And by the racing of her pulse, she knew she was glad to see him, too.

  “Miss Wright,” he said, striding in eagerness toward her. “What are you doing here?”

  She gave him a ladylike shrug. “I was going to ask you the same question.”

  “Ladies first,” he answered, stopping a respectable distance from her.

  “I was dropping off some things the Wilted Tea Society collected for the children who live here.”

  “Thank goodness,” he said, an easy smile coming to his lips. “When I first saw you, I thought you might be a mirage.”

  “Do you see me as unreal or unattainable, my lord?”

  His brandy-colored eyes met her stare for stare. “Perhaps. When I look at you as I am now.” He paused. The corners of his mouth lifted devilishly. “But when I realized you were actually standing in front of me and you were not an illusion, I wondered about the possibility that Miss Wright might be following me.”

  Her eyebrows lifted a little and so did her chin. She made no effort to hide her amusement as she casually folded her gloved hands together in front of her. “And why would you suspect that, my lord?”

  “It’s simple. I take a walk in the park and it just so happens I see you taking a walk in the park. I come to the orphanage and you come to the orphanage. Do you see why I might think this?”

  She chuckled softly. “Yes, but you have it wrong. It must be you who is following me. You never told me why you are here, and I freely confessed my mission.”

  “You’re right,” he admitted. “I didn’t. This is where Dixon was first left after his mother died. When he was found and brought to me on the coast, I was told some of his things had remained here. I came to ask about them for him.”

  Her smile faded. “I hope they had them.”

  “Yes. Thankfully. Mrs. Potts has them safely stored away in the attic. I made arrangements with her to have them picked up tomorrow.”

  “That’s a kind thing for you to do, my lord. I’m sure he’ll appreciate having all his possessions with him.”

  “It’s the right thing to do, Miss Wright. I told Dixon I was coming to look into claiming his possessions. He said he wanted to come with me, but when we arrived, he refused to get out of the carriage.”

  Her eyes softened. “Do you suppose he thought you might leave him here?”

  “That could be it, I guess. But why didn’t he just tell me he didn’t want to come?”

  “Maybe because he is five years old and not yet a young man who knows what he wants or what he can handle.”

  “I think that could very well be true, Miss Wright. So it’s true. There is actually a society called Wilted Tea?”

  She laughed a little. “Indeed there is. We know that not everyone sees the humor in our name, as do those of us who belong to the group. But yes, as odd as it sounds, that is what we call our little society.”

  “You wouldn’t want to know the names of some of the groups that I belonged to when I was a younger man, and I wouldn’t tell you if by chance you did.”

  “I’ve heard that gentlemen enjoy their secret societies.”

  “We do, and it’s best that I not talk about them in front of a lady.”

  “Why is that?”

  His expression questioned her. “Is that a personal inquiry from you, Miss Wright?”

  “If it is, I’m glad I was the first one to ask this time. It’s usually you who ventures headlong where only angels go.”

  “It’s difficult to be a gentleman at all times, Miss Wright. It seems that at your uncle’s dinner party we aroused suspicions in a few people as to the real reason you were in my arms.”

  “Unfortunately, that is so.”

  His eyes and lips softened. “I didn’t want that to happen. Has the gossip been bad for you?”

  “You could have called on me to find out.”

  His expression changed to one of uncertainty, and she wondered if he felt she’d been too forward.

  “You’re right. I could have. I wanted to. It’s just—”

  “Nothing for you to worry about, my lord,” she interrupted, taking him off the hook she had just placed him on. “My aunt cleverly convinced everyone that I exchanged dinner plates with you because yours had a chip in it, and the duke has convinced everyone you were my savior that night by lifting his injured niece off the ground and rushing her into the house before she could catch consumption.”

  He grimaced. “You’re right. I should have stopped by to see you. The reasons I didn’t are purely selfish ones.”

  “You’ve been busy, I know.”

  “You are not going to let me get off that easy, are you?”

  “You chose not to call on me.”

  “I didn’t because I know that you, Miss Wright, are wrong for me. It’s best I stay away from you.”

  Katherine’s breath caught in her lungs. Did that mean he had been as affected by their kisses as she had? Did it mean that when he looked at her, he felt the same wonderful feelings she felt when she looked at him? And if he did, was the problem that he felt he was betraying the memory of his beloved wife?

  Her gaze held fast to his. “Is that why I haven’t even seen you at any of the balls or parties?”

  “I told you I didn’t come to London to attend the Season, that it’s mainly for those who want to be on the marriage mart.”

  “Yet you came to my uncle’s for dinner.”

  “Yes, but when we met, I realized that was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gone.”

  “Because we kissed?”

  He stepped closer to her, keeping his intense gaze on hers. “No, not because of it, but because of the way we kissed, because of the way it felt.” He stopped. “I came to London for business reasons, and as soon as I’ve accomplished them, I will be leaving.”

  His words felt like a stab to her heart, and she took a step back. “Oh, I didn’t know you would be leaving.”

  “Yes,” he
said on a sharp intake of breath. “And you will be continuing to get to know and measure Lord Rudyard and other gentlemen who are pursuing you in your quest for a husband.”

  “Yes, of course I will,” she agreed, feeling an odd sense of rejection. “I told you I promised my uncle I would settle on a husband by the end of the Season. I won’t go back on my word.”

  “It’s a shame he’s put a time restraint on you about that.”

  “He is past ready for me to be some other man’s responsibility. He feels he must fulfill his duty to my father and see me properly wed. I am holding up his fulfilling that obligation.” She paused and let her gaze gently, slowly, sweep up and down his face. “I will settle on someone. I must. But I want you to know I will never forget our kiss. And I am pleased that my first kiss came from you.”

  Lord Greyhawke swore. He reached over and opened the door to his left and looked around. Then, without saying a word, he grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her inside with him.

  Chapter 18

  Men that hazard all

  Do it in hope of fair advantages.

  —The Merchant of Venice, act 2, scene 7

  Despite reason and common sense, Adam shut them inside and backed Katherine against the door. They remained quiet for a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes. They both knew he shouldn’t have done it, but neither of them was going to do anything to correct it.

  Just looking at her caused Adam’s lower stomach to tighten and a surge of desire to catch between his legs.

  Thank God she hadn’t screamed or resisted him when he’d seized her wrist and pulled her with him into the empty room. This was probably the worst idea he’d ever had, except perhaps for kissing her on her front lawn, but Adam could no longer bear not touching her, and this cold chamber gave them privacy.

  He had tried to stay away from her. By the holy saints, he’d tried. And he’d actually been good about doing it, for him, anyway, forcing himself not to go to the places she might be: the dinner parties, the balls, the opera, and all the other social gatherings he’d had every intention of enjoying when he’d first arrived in London. But that was when he’d thought that after living in isolation for so long, he’d be able to dance, banter, and enjoy a lively social Season with delightful young ladies who would be no danger to his heart.