The Lady and the Earl (Seabrook Family Saga)

by Donovan, Christine

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Sebastian, please slow down. I’m out of breath.” Amelia’s face burned from embarrassment at having her brother finding her in William’s arm. And with the way her brother had treated a man who was only trying to calm her with his strong and comforting arms. She wished they still held her now. Oh, dear God, had she become a terrible person with loose morals as her brother’s anger suggested?

  Her brother came to a halt, looked her in the eyes, and demanded, “What were you doing with him?”

  “Sebastian, it’s not what you think—”

  “You do not know what I’m thinking,” he interrupted in a tone that was not so much comforting as it was a growl.

  “No. You’re right. I don’t. How wrong of me to presume to know your mind. But please…” She placed her hand on his arm. “Listen to me. Truthfully, we met by accident down by the stream, and he offered to walk me home. I don’t know how it happened, but I told him about Daniel and then I cried. Generally I don’t talk about it and I’m not such a watering pot.” Closing her eyes, she tried to come up with proper words to explain. “I don’t believe he thought anything about what he did. He just tried to comfort me. That’s all. You’re not suggesting that you thought––”

  “What do you think crossed my mind when I came upon the two of you embracing as lovers?”

  Amelia gasped, but Sebastian ignored her.

  “You have to admit you have made mistakes in the past,” Sebastian continued.

  “Sebastian!” she gasped.

  He should have just slapped her. The pain would be less than the burning ache inside her chest at having heard his words spoken aloud. Did her family truly believe that she made a mistake and would continue to make others? She knew in her heart that making love with Daniel had not been wrong; they were young and had been betrothed.

  “The truth comes out at last,” Amelia sighed, her tone sarcastic. “I am guilty of one wrongdoing. I reached out to love once, and I’m forever paying for that. You think because I made love to Daniel once that I’m loose with my favors? You think I am a lightskirt?” She jabbed her index finger into her brother’s chest. “How dare you? I’ve barely existed since Daniel’s death. And just because I succumbed to temptation once does not mean it will happen again. If Daniel had not died, who would have known?”

  Heartbroken, she turned to run off, but her brother grabbed her elbow, preventing her escape.

  “Amelia, please forgive me. I don’t know why I said what I did. I’ve never thought those things about you. No one in our family thinks you are anything but a proper lady with good morals. We all know you loved Daniel and that many couples consummate the marriage during the betrothal.”

  Sebastian ran his hands through his wavy hair. “Amelia, please accept my apologies for my rude behavior toward you and Lord Bridgeton. When I saw you with him, all I could think about was what I’d heard about him committing murder.” He held up his hand when he saw her start to speak. “You are right. Since when do I listen to gossip? Still, is it wise to be alone with him? I saw the way he looked at you, or more precisely, how he looked when he held you in his arms.”

  “Oh, Sebastian, he’s just a friend, an extremely lonely friend.” While she called William a friend, a part of her wished and knew he was more.

  “My point exactly,” Sebastian remarked.

  “What does it matter? We leave for London soon, and if Mother has her way, I’ll become betrothed once again. There is one problem with her plans. I will never leave Olivia. What gentleman will marry a woman with a bastard child?” Amelia placed her hand over her heart. “I will not marry anyone without telling him the truth. A husband deserves no less. Olivia and I deserve no less. And if he cannot take the truth and live with the consequences then he is not worthy of my love. Nor I of his. Do you even think there is such a man out there?”

  Her brother’s eyes said it all.

  “No. I didn’t think so either,” Amelia said with a saddened heart.

  “Amelia,” Sebastian pleaded, “you do not understand.”

  She held her chin high, pulled her shoulders back. “I understand perfectly. So why is Mother insisting on me having another Season when nothing can come of it?”

  “I’m sorry, Amelia,” Sebastian said. “I might have written Mother and told her you’re sad. Perhaps she thinks having another Season will help. The only time you seem truly happy is when you’re with Olivia.”

  “Should a mother not be happy with her child?”

  “Yes, of course, but we want you happy—always.”

  Rising on tiptoes, Amelia gave her brother a quick kiss on the cheek. “I love you, too. And you know I’d be perfectly content to live here to the end of my days. But I’ll go to London and pretend to enjoy myself to please Mother. And when the Season ends I will come back here and live quietly and be a good mother to Olivia. Dear God, some days I feel twice my age.”

  Sebastian took her hand and tugged her along the path to their home. “I understand. I feel the same way at times.” He shot her a secretive look. “Race you home,” he challenged and took off running full speed.

  ***

  The day before Amelia was to head for London, she hoped to see Lord Bridgeton once more. As she sat down on the banks of the stream, watching the clouds travel by in the brisk breeze, his face appeared in her mind. A stab of guilt pierced her soul as she thought about her captain and realized she had placed her grief in a far corner of her heart, leaving it open to another. “Please forgive me, Daniel.”

  The snapping of twigs had Amelia sitting up straight and glancing in the direction of the sounds. A wide smile broke out on her face and her pulse raced as she glimpsed William crossing the stream on foot, not giving a care for the water level. She giggled. He’d walked right into the stream, boots and all, and plopped down beside her on the stream bank. His legs bent up and his elbows rested on his knees.

  “I hoped I would see you before you left.”

  Oh, dear God. Amelia knew if she were discovered here, she would be in so much trouble. Yet she had been curious to learn what she truly felt when she was with this man. There was something between them that thrilled her, drew her to him. But what? Perhaps she was a wanton and needed to be confined to a convent. Regardless, she had to admit William’s voice did things to her body Daniel’s voice had never done––never mind the heat she felt radiating from his body. The sooner she left for London the better as she did not trust herself to be alone with William any longer. Before she left, however, she wanted to kiss him, but she feared she would shock him with her forwardness.

  Distance would be essential afterwards. It would be a good thing.

  “I almost didn’t come here today, though once I decided to, I hoped to see you,” she replied softly.

  His warm hand reached out and stroked her cheek, causing her whole body to shiver. “Why did you hesitate, Amelia?”

  “I don’t know.” Amelia could not tell him the truth. That from experience she knew she wanted him as a woman wanted a man––as women had wanted men since the beginning of time.

  “Did your brother warn you to stay away from here…from me?” he asked cautiously.

  “No. I mean yes,” she murmured, trying not to lean into his hand that still stroked her face. The leaning happened anyway; she closed her eyes and let the warmth of his hand on her cheek soothe her wounded soul.

  “Amelia, perhaps I should go.”

  Her eyes flew open, and she grabbed his hand, pulling it back to her face. “No. Don’t go. I want to spend some time with you before I go to London, and I don’t want to be alone.”

  “My dear, sweet, innocent girl, you don’t understand.” William’s eyes, laced with sadness and smoldering heat, stared into hers. “I want you. It’s terribly frustrating to want someone you can never have.”

  “Why can’t you have me? Why do you say never?”

  ***

  Dear God, did Amelia know what she had said? Did she know w
hat she did to him with her innocent question? William smiled to ease the situation. She looked almost ready to cry. “Because I will never seduce an innocent, no matter how much I want her.”

  “What if I told you I’m not so inno––”

  “Shhh.” His index finger touched her soft, full lips, and he ignored the throbbing erection swelling painfully against his breeches. “Can’t we just sit here and talk?”

  Amelia’s disappointment was evident in her eyes, and he swallowed hard.

  “Tell me about you brother,” she requested.

  Nothing like talking about his dead brother to curb his lust. At least his erection didn’t hurt him anymore. “Geoffrey was two years older than me. We were best friends growing up. He’d been a kind, intelligent man but a dreamer, always a dreamer. I met Katherine, the daughter of a baron, first, though she became his wife.” He smiled at the memory of meeting her for the first time and falling in love right then and there. He shrugged. “I planned on asking her to marry me when Geoffrey and Katherine announced their betrothal. Even though my heart broke, I was happy for them.”

  Amelia placed her hand on his cheek. The warmth and compassion in her eyes moved him. “I’m sorry. Your story sounds similar to my brothers Wentworth and Sebastian and Emma. Emma is Wentworth’s wife. Sebastian thought he loved her, too.”

  “Ahh, Lord Sebastian and I have something in common.”

  He saw her eyes drop to his lips. She could not mean to … then her lips brushed his. Bloody hell, his resolve cracked. Before William’s conscience could stop him, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her on top of his body as he lay down on the soft grass. William felt Amelia’s body tense, probably because he had shocked her with his amorous actions. Seconds later her body relaxed down on top of his.

  Dear God, what had he ever done to deserve Amelia’s attentions? He kissed her, his tongue licking its way into her moist, hot mouth. Their tongues tangled as lovers. Amelia purred until he rolled them over, pinning her beneath him. He proceeded to kiss his way down her neck and trailed his tongue across the swell of her breasts. Amelia surprised him by grinding her hips against his erection.

  William knew he should stop, but he had lost all reason. He pulled her dress and chemise down over her shoulders, exposing her breasts to the open air. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of them. Perfect round orbs with pink nipples, nipples that pebbled, begging for his mouth.

  “My God, Amelia, you’re beautiful,” William murmured as he suckled one nipple. One of his hands skimmed up inside her skirts. His hand found the juncture of her thighs, stroking her moist curls through the slit of her pantaloons.

  “William,” Amelia gasped, “you must stop.”

  Somehow her voice penetrated his mind, causing his body to tense in shock at what he’d done. She was twenty, bloody hell, and he was eight-and-thirty. He rolled off her and mumbled, “I’m sorry. Forgive me for losing myself.”

  Amelia quickly jumped to her feet. The whole time she stood there righting her dress, she kept her eyes downcast. “It was my fault; I should not have––”

  “What did you say?” William tilted her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes. His heart stopped mid-beat. In her eyes he saw shame, and he fought down his anger at himself for causing her to feel that way. “This was not your fault but entirely mine. I am older and more experienced. I took advantage of you.”

  He pulled Amelia into his arms, breathing in the lavender scent of her hair and burning the memory into his mind. “Please forgive me.”

  If only life was kind and good people were guaranteed happiness. But he knew that wasn’t the case. Any woman with him would be touched by scandal, by his unresolved past.

  “I wish you happiness in your life.” He kissed her temple and reluctantly turned and walked away without looking back. Amelia was too good for him, could never be his. He needed to remember that.

  ***

  For two days William paced around his study. Thinking about Amelia…thinking about his future, something he seldom did anymore. Up until this point in his life, he hadn’t believed he had a future beyond the walls of his estate and the circle of people he knew and worked with. Meeting Amelia had changed all that.

  But she was headed to London, for a Season of dancing and meeting potential partners for life. Men that could offer her a wonderful life, a life he could not possibly offer her––or could he? Even if there was a chance for happiness, for a happy ending, did he have the courage to travel to London and fight for her?

  Would he be able to turn a deaf ear to the rumors that would follow him wherever he went?

  Could he subject Amelia to those rumors?

  William could watch her from afar once again. Unfortunately, deep down inside, he knew that would never do. He craved her friendship. Needed her friendship. And more.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “William! My God, what are you…?”

  “May I come in?” William did not want to meet his cousin’s eyes and see the shock, disbelief, and undoubtedly unease in them. And, could he blame his cousin for that reaction?

  “Please, come in,” his cousin said with a welcoming smile.

  Surprised by the warmth, William followed his cousin, Stuart Spencer, into the drawing room and waited to be invited to sit. Once they sat facing each other, William’s mind played with the words he needed to say to explain his uninvited visit. Although Bridgeton Manor actually belonged to William, he had gladly leased the manor house to his cousin twelve years ago when Spencer had wanted to get out from under his father’s control. Even though Spencer’s father died several years back, Spencer had stayed in William’s house on Park Street facing Grosvenor Square.

  Spencer’s mother and two younger sisters resided in Spencer House right down the street. Grandmother Spencer, the dowager countess, lived with them as well. How William had missed his grandmother the past twelve years. She had backbone and had ruled his father and uncle, as well as the rest of the family, with a loving, but iron will.

  William’s father was Spencer’s father’s older brother. Spencer stood next in line to inherit the earldom if William died without producing an heir—which was highly likely. Spencer’s father, born the younger son, still had considerable wealth, which made Spencer wealthy. Spencer had many connections with the ton which is what William needed and hence, why he had come here.

  “Where is Devon, the doorman? It surprised me to have you answering your own door,” William said with a knowing smirk. Spencer ran his household rather informally. That is not to say the servants didn’t know their position. They did. Even so, Spencer didn’t mind opening up his own door occasionally.

  “I sent him on an errand.” Spencer stood up, headed to the sideboard, and picked up a crystal decanter filled to the brim with amber liquid. “Would you care for a drink?”

  “Please.” William needed something to calm his nerves. Once he held the proffered glass in his hand, he downed the contents in one swallow, savoring the burn as it traveled down his throat and warmth settled in the pit of his stomach. “Ahh. Good brandy. I almost forgot what it tasted like.”

  Spencer’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me you have not had a drop of brandy in––”

  “Yes,” William interrupted. “I’ve not had a drink in, oh,” he flicked his wrist and continued, “twelve years.”

  “I’m shocked.”

  That brought the foreign sound of laughter to William’s ears. Had he just laughed? “I suppose you want to know why I’m here.”

  “That did cross my mind. But bloody hell, it’s good to see you.”

  His cousin smiled. They had been best friends growing up together, Stuart, Geoffrey, and William. Could their friendship pick up where it had left off? Spencer had often, during William’s years in self-imposed exile, sent him letters begging him to come to London. William had ignored them.

  “It’s good to see you, too. You’ve fared well over the years.” William held up his hand. �
��I realize I’m stalling. If you must know, I’ve come for the Season.”

  “P-p-pardon?” Spencer stuttered.

  The hours spent on horseback, traveling the muddy roads to London, suffering raw, chilly winds, were worth the look on Spencer’s face. His jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and he could not utter a single word besides, ‘Pardon.’

  “Humph, I know you’re shocked. So am I. Why, you ask?” Bugger all, William enjoyed himself at his cousin’s expense. “I met someone.” He held up his hand again. “I know. How did I meet someone if I have been in self-imposed-exile? Well, she just happens to be my neighbor in Dover, Lady Amelia Seabrook. The Duke of Wentworth’s sister.”

  He chose to ignore Spencer’s loud, rude gasp.

  “And you wonder how I met the duke’s sister? Well, she is, or rather was, staying at Stony Cross Manor the past few weeks with her other brother, Lord Sebastian. And no, she does not know I’m in London. Nor does her family know about me. Well, Sebastian saw us together once. That didn’t go well. Regardless, I had to come and see her again.”

  Finally Spencer found his voice. “You had to come and see her again?”

  “Is that not what I just said?”

  “Forgive me if I’m struck dumb. I’ve not heard from you in how many years? Nor did you ever answer my letters. And yet here you are in my home—well, actually your home—stating you met a lady and are in pursuit. Please give me several minutes for the shock to wear off.” Spencer closed his eyes, then opened them and grinned. “I suppose you wish to stay here, just like old times.”

  “I wouldn’t want to impose.” Would he be imposing? Did Spencer often entertain guests, lady friends? Did he have a mistress he brought here?

  “Stay. It’s rather dull and quiet around here lately. And with you here, things are bound to liven up. I welcome that.” Spencer raised the decanter in the air and jiggled it. “Another drink?”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” William replied.

  An hour later, William noticed the room moving in circles, making everything unfocused. Damn, how much have I had to drink? “Since we’re of a size, I hoped you could lend me some clothing until I get to a tailor.”