The Earl of London

by Louise Bay

  “That’s very kind of you, but I’m not sure I can commit to a position on the committee. I have a number of members of my team who I know would jump at the opportunity and are even better than me at coming up with creative solutions to problems.”

  Her cup at her lips, Patricia froze, her eyes wide. “That’s a lovely thought, but we only have local people on the committee.”

  She probably thought I was an arsehole for trying to delegate a place on the committee, but realistically, there was no way I could be a regular attendee at meetings. And I didn’t half do things or say I was going to do something and then let people down. That was my father. Not me. “Well, perhaps I could come along as your guest, Patricia. Not a member, but just someone who might be able to help. Every six months or so.”

  “Wonderful,” she said. “We need fresh ideas on the committee, and we’re thrilled you want to be part of our village. There’s a meeting tomorrow morning at ten if you’re free.”

  “I’ll make sure I am.” Darcy wouldn’t expect me to get to know the villagers. She’d count on having more influence with them, but if I made an effort to get to know them, I could at least communicate my point of view. Maybe even gain a few supporters. I’d had the best lawyers draw up the application to the Parish Council so I’d have the best possible chance of fulfilling any technical requirements, but I also understood that the first step in any planning process was easily influenced by the non-technical.

  “I’ll take you down to the farm shop before the meeting, Granny. Then drop you back.”

  “Oh, that’s so nice that you support our village farm shop,” Patricia said.

  “Of course. We’re a big supporter of local producers. We want to be a real part of the village.”

  Patricia beamed. “Well, I’m excited for you to get involved.”

  “As am I. Now, if you’ll excuse me while I change into my comfortable clothes? I never feel quite like me in a suit.” Perhaps I was laying it on a little thick, but I wanted to be sure there was an alternate argument in circulation when Darcy began to paint me as a corporate monster.

  “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  I slipped into the house, ready for a hot shower. I always felt dirty when arriving back at Badsley from London, so I hadn’t really lied about being uncomfortable in my suit. I’d never found myself feeling that way before spending my weekends in the country. But I found myself wearing ties less and less often, even when I was back in London. Here in Woolton, I was more comfortable in jeans and a shirt. And I was genuinely pleased to help out the fundraising committee. And if it made the likelihood of the village accepting Manor House Club, then all the better.

  Thirteen

  Darcy

  There was nothing like an explosion of fresh color to brighten people’s moods. The farm shop was no exception. “There,” I said, placing a jug of hand-picked lilacs onto the counter by the till. “I knew that would cheer the place up.” I came down to the farm shop a few times a week. Rory was an excellent manager, so I didn’t need to supervise him. But still, I wanted to show my support, so I always bought a couple of things and caught up with a few neighbors.

  “Darcy,” someone called from behind me. I turned and found Mrs. Steele using her walking stick as she ambled through the door.

  “Mrs. Steele,” I said, racing forward to help her before I realized Logan was behind her. “So nice to see you down here. Can I help you with anything?” I avoided looking at Logan. He hadn’t so much as apologized for kidnapping me and I wasn’t a Stockholm Syndrome sufferer. He’d been completely out of line. That man was far too used to everyone in his orbit being at his beck and call.

  “We’re just here to browse, although we’re nearly out of that lavender honey I like so much,” she said, heading toward the jams, marmalades and chutneys section. “You are looking very pretty today, Darcy,” she said. “Isn’t she, Logan?”

  “Please, Mrs. Steele. I don’t have a scrap of makeup on, and these jeans have a hole in them.”

  “She always looks beautiful, grandmother,” Logan said, and I did my best not to roll my eyes.

  “You must drop by while Logan is home for the weekend.” Mrs. Steele tapped me on my arm. “Perhaps you’ll join us for dinner one evening?”

  Mrs. Steele was clearly still trying to play matchmaker. Little did she know there was little prospect of Logan and I being friends, let alone anything more.

  “That is so kind of you, but I have a packed schedule this weekend. Perhaps next week? You’d be welcome to come up to Woolton for supper. I can collect you,” I said.

  She turned to Logan. “Are you free for supper with Darcy or are you in London all week?”

  My stomach churned. Why did she have to assume that the invitation extended to her grandson?

  Out of the corner of my eye, Logan’s gaze flickered to me. “I’m sure I could make a mid-week trip for dinner with you and Darcy.”

  My heart sank. The last thing I wanted to do was be polite to someone who didn’t think twice about turning the lives of an entire village upside down. Someone who didn’t give it a second thought before hoisting me over their shoulder and dragging me to London against my will. Someone I’d kissed.

  “Perfect,” Mrs. Steele said. “Then you just tell us when, Darcy, and we’ll be there. I’d love to see the house, and from what I hear, your gardens are simply fantastic.”

  “Excellent,” I said through gritted teeth. “Wednesday works for me, if that’s convenient,” I said, hoping the middle of the week wouldn’t work for Logan.

  “Sounds perfect,” Logan said.

  “Well, I must be going,” I said, still refusing to look at him. “I have a meeting to get to.” The mobile library fundraising committee meeting didn’t start for twenty minutes, and it was only a ten-minute walk, but I needed to leave before I got into any more trouble. Inadvertently, I’d managed to ensure that I was going to have to entertain Logan in my own home this week. I dreaded to think what I’d do next if I didn’t get out of there.

  “Well, it’s very nice to see you, my dear, and I look forward to Wednesday.”

  “Yes,” Logan said. “Wednesday will be a complete pleasure.”

  I managed to stay silent at his sarcasm, but he winked at me as if he had the upper hand. Well, he might have won this battle, but our war over Manor House Club wouldn’t be one I lost.

  “I can’t wait,” I said, matching his sarcasm. I said goodbye and headed out, turning left down the high street. Logan Steele was all charm and smiles on first glance, but upon a closer look, he was trying to destroy everything I’d worked so hard to preserve.

  Well, I saw right through him.

  I blew out a breath and started toward the church hall.

  “Darcy.” Glenis waved from the other side of the road. I slowed to a stop as she headed over to speak to me.

  “Hi Glenis. That’s a pretty dress.” Glenis had a thousand pretty dresses, but this one of purples and pinks suited her more than usual. “I’ve not seen you since the jam-making. How are you?”

  “Wonderful. I finally met our new neighbor. Just as charming as I expected. Have you two been introduced?”

  “Unfortunately,” I replied.

  She frowned. “You didn’t like Logan?”

  “I think his grandmother is quite lovely, but have you heard how he wants to develop Badsley into members’ bars, restaurants and rooms? He’s going to ruin the place.”

  “But where will his grandmother live?”

  I shook my head. “The house will stay as it is. He wants to build new in the grounds.”

  “I hadn’t heard that. Has he got planning permission?”

  “Not yet. I’m so worried. He keeps talking about jobs and opportunity and all I can think about is all the trees that will have to be torn down and the way all the guests will overtake the village.”

  “Gosh,” Glenis said. “We don’t want Woolton turning
into Kingsley.”

  “Yes, that was supposed to attract investment, but look what happened!”

  “So many people moved out. Village life was ruined for them.”

  “I know. I’m so worried that the same will happen to Woolton,” I said.

  “Not to mention how long construction will take. Do you remember the Thompsons?” She gasped. “Three years. It was hell. I have to talk to the rest of the W.I. members.” Determination spread across Glenis’ face. “We have to oppose this. Darcy, excuse me, I need to go and speak to Mrs. Lonsdale and some others. Good to see you, my dear.”

  Before I could wish her well, she’d stomped past me, her pretty dress floating behind her, and I turned back toward the church hall. By the time I arrived for our committee meeting, I wasn’t early at all. I was right on time.

  “Hi, Patricia,” I said as the chair of the fundraising committee wheeled a tray of tea into the main room.

  “Darcy,” she said. “I’m so excited about today’s meeting.”

  I held the door open so she could push the trolley through.

  “You are?” I asked. What had got her in such a good mood?

  “We have a guest today—you’re going to be delighted.”

  A guest? We never had guests at this meeting. Across the room, the women of the committee were staring up at a man who had his back to me.

  “It will be good to have some gender balance as well.” Patricia beamed as she spoke.

  Oh, so the man who was holding court was our guest. I squinted, trying to figure out who it was when realization dawned.

  Oh God. It couldn’t be, could it? My gut churned in frustration.

  “Logan,” Patricia called. “Do you know Darcy?”

  What was with this guy? Was he following me around?

  Logan made his excuses to the harem of tittering women and turned to us. “Darcy!” he said. “How wonderful to see you. I didn’t realize you were on this committee.”

  “Patricia, let me help you with that,” he said, bounding forward and taking the trolley from her. He wheeled it across to the cloth-covered table under the window.

  Patricia gasped and blushed as if he’d just presented her with diamonds. “That’s so kind of you,” she sighed. “So gentlemanly.”

  I wondered if she’d think him so gentlemanly if she knew of his plans.

  “Darcy’s really helped my grandmother and I settle into the village,” he said as he wandered over to the table where we always had our discussions. All the women gazed up at him with stars in their eyes.

  “She’s a good girl like that,” Maureen said. “And single, you know.”

  I glared at her. Why did my being single have to be brought up at every single village function? It had nothing to do with Logan Steele, or the library.

  I tried not to glance at Logan, but his smug smile bore into me. I bet everyone thought that grin was charming. I knew better.

  “Shall we start the meeting?” I asked. The sooner we got down to business, the sooner we’d be done and I could put some distance between Logan and me. I’d wanted to bring up Manor House Club at today’s meeting. Not officially, because it had nothing to do with the library funding, but I needed to tell people what he was planning. Now with Logan here, the women already eating out of the palm of his hand, it seemed I was too late.

  Next week’s Parish Council would discuss Logan’s plans, and instead of me encouraging opposition, Logan seemed to be winning people over with his smooth charm, flirtatious smile and over-the-top interest in Woolton Village. This wasn’t supposed to be how it went.

  Fourteen

  Logan

  Darcy Westbury had me acting like a nerdy teenager, chasing after the most popular girl in school. “Hey, Darcy,” I said, trying to catch up as she strode along the main street of the village. It had taken longer than I’d expected to extract myself at the end of the meeting, and it had meant Darcy had left before I’d had a chance to speak to her. Not that I had anything particular to say.

  She didn’t stop. She didn’t even slow down. “Hey,” I said as I reached her. “Great meeting. I didn’t know you were a member.”

  “What do you want, Logan?” she asked.

  What did I want? To get her attention? To tease her? I didn’t know my own mind. “To catch up. Chat. We’re friends, aren’t we? I certainly hope we are.” That was bound to rile her up and get me attention—two birds with one stone.

  “Friends? Last time I saw you, you kidnapped me.”

  I chuckled. She was so dramatic. “You were yelling, and I had to get to a meeting. I was happy to let you vent, but I needed to travel while you did.”

  “It’s just your world, and we live in it, isn’t it?”

  “I could have left without you, but I didn’t. Because I like you—though I prefer you when you’re not shouting at me.”

  She stumbled as we made our way across the bridge over the river and I grabbed her arm to steady her, catching a strain of her fresh, floral scent, but she just shrugged me off.

  “Well, I don’t like you.”

  I wasn’t sure if that were true now, but I knew that at one point it had been different. “Didn’t seem that way when you were kissing me.”

  She stopped still on the pathway and shook her head before carrying on. “Money can’t buy you manners. No gentleman would ever bring that up.” She sounded disappointed in me or herself—I wasn’t sure. I preferred her mad.

  “Why on earth not? There’s no one here but us, and we both know it happened.”

  “I’d rather forget about it, if you don’t mind.”

  I brought my palm to my chest. “You’re breaking my heart.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure, but I thought a small smile crossed her lips. To cover it up, she sighed. “What do you want, Logan?”

  “To talk to you. To see you home. I’ve not had any one-on-one time with you for almost a week.” Of course, I was teasing her. But it was sort of true. I found her fascinating. Passionate. Ready to stand behind what she believed. People were rarely so open with me. In business, I had to remove knives from my back on a regular basis, but Darcy had clutched the dagger and tried to stick it into my chest.

  It made for a refreshing change.

  And she was an excellent kisser. I couldn’t remember the last time when a kiss had stuck in my mind so long. Maybe it was the way her body yielded under my touch, the way my skin seemed to ignite when I touched her or the way she smelled of freshly mowed grass and lime blossom. She was all fire on the outside and cool breeze on the inside, and I wanted to dive in and experience it all.

  “I’m perfectly capable of seeing myself home, and I’ve had enough one-on-one time with you to last a lifetime.”

  “Now that’s not a very friendly thing to say,” I teased, amused by the way she was trying to get away from me by walking so quickly.

  “Well, that’s because we’re not friends.”

  “And I can’t quite work out why not. There aren’t many people our age in Woolton Village. We should at least try to be friends.”

  “I’ll be friends with you when you drop these ridiculous plans for your private members’ club.”

  “That’s just business. Nothing to do with friendship.”

  She shook her head as she continued her march back to Woolton Hall. “That’s the point. You think the two can be separated. You don’t get that your business impacts our whole way of life, and worse, you just don’t care.”

  How could I convince her that Manor House Club could enhance life in Woolton? “It’s not going to be a dump, you know. The bar and restaurant are going to be top quality and the landscaping is going to be beautiful. It’ll attract wealthy people with money to spend locally. And those same people will hopefully be inspired and invest in the area. Why don’t you keep an open mind?”

  “Insults, calling me closed-minded—you’ve got a funny way of being my friend. Those aren’t the kind of accusations friends make of each other.”


  She didn’t let me get away with anything. “Okay, so the deal is we can’t be friends unless my plans fail at the Parish Council meeting next week? But if that happens, we can?”

  “Why would you want to be friends with me if I beat you?”

  I didn’t think she’d beat me. But even if she did, I didn’t want there to be bad blood between us. And if I offered an olive branch, when I beat her she might let bygones be bygones. I never gave a second thought to the enemies I made in business. But I didn’t want to be enemies with someone like Darcy. Yes, she was a neighbor and my grandmother liked her but it was more than that. Wanting to be…friends with Darcy wasn’t just practical. I liked what I saw, and I wanted to know more. “I just figure there must be layers.”

  “Everyone has layers,” she said, waving at a woman who was pushing a buggy on the other side of the road.

  Always an answer for everything. “You’re right. But I’m not interested in most people’s layers.”

  “If I tell you we can be friends if I beat you, will you leave me in peace?”

  I chuckled. I really must be irritating her, but instead of that wanting to make me back off, it only made me want to know more about her.

  “You’d get a temporary reprieve. How’s that for a compromise?”

  “I’ll take it.” She rolled her eyes. “Then yes, we can be friends when I beat you. Now, skedaddle and leave me in peace.”

  I wanted to reach out, stroke her hair or claim a kiss, but I resisted. “Finally, a consolation prize worth having.”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “Unbelievable. You need a refund from that charm school you went to. I’m a consolation prize?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” I touched her shoulder, but she shrugged me off. “And if I win? Then what?” She challenged me at every turn—not just on my plans but what I said, how I said it. She was hard work. And I liked it.