Ruined by the Earl (Marriage by Deceit Book 3)

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Ruined by the Earl (Marriage by Deceit Book 3) Page 3

by Ruth Ann Nordin


  “Too bad I didn’t think of that.”

  “It’s just as well that you didn’t. Needless to say, Melissa’s mother wasn’t too happy with me.”

  “She cried?” Logan guessed.

  “I wish. She wasn’t a crier. She threw things at me. Malcolm is a lot like how she used to be. She’s mellowed out over the years.” Her father finished his tea then stood up. “I’ll get Melissa. You two should get better acquainted.”

  Logan thanked him and watched as the gentleman left the room. At least her father was a likable fellow. He wouldn’t have guessed her father had done anything so interesting. Indeed, Logan had a newfound respect for him.

  But the gentleman was right. He was here to see Melissa. Surely, they could establish some common ground. Already, he liked her father. That was one such common ground right there.

  Leaning back in the chair, he drank his tea. Then, since there was nothing else to do, he ate a crumpet. He didn’t particularly care for crumpets. He much preferred a tart or scone, but he had to admit, these crumpets were among the best he’d ever had. So he helped himself to a couple more.

  Logan finally heard someone approaching the drawing room and, figuring it was Melissa, rose to his feet. He straightened his waistcoat and adjusted his cravat.

  “No, I don’t want to see him,” came a familiar whisper. If he guessed right, that was Melissa.

  “You must,” came another whisper. Undoubtedly, this was her father.

  “He’s awful,” she replied. “I’d rather kill myself than spend time with him.”

  “I can hear you,” Logan called out.

  In the next moment, Melissa appeared in the doorway, her father leading her in with his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Melissa brought her handkerchief up to her eyes and sniffled. Logan stifled a groan. She was still crying?

  Her father smiled and gently pushed her further into the room. “It’ll be all right,” he assured her. “All he wants to do is talk to you.” Once he had her settled in a chair, he turned to Logan. “Give her time. She’ll come around.”

  As her father headed out of the room, she cried out, “Don’t shut the doors.”

  Logan sighed. “For heaven’s sakes. I’m not going to do anything bad to you.”

  “How would I know that?” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “You kissed me right in front of everyone at Lord Roderick’s ball.”

  Out of respect for her father, Logan waited until the gentleman headed down the hall before he answered her. “You needn’t worry. My only desire in kissing you was to get your money. I didn’t do it because I was attracted to you. I won’t try to kiss you again.”

  He thought that would ease her mind, but to his surprise, she only burst into a fresh wave of tears.

  “If it would make you feel better,” he shifted in the chair, “I could kiss you.”

  He didn’t think it was possible, but that only made her cry harder. Good heavens! Just what was he supposed to do? No matter what he said, he couldn’t win. Maybe she’d feel better if she threw something at him. It seemed to have worked for her mother. His gaze went to a vase on the desk. No. If her aim was any good, that would hurt. He saw a small pillow on the settee. While it was a better choice for him, it probably wouldn’t satisfy her. She needed something tougher than that. Finally, he saw a book. He could handle it if she threw a book at him.

  He picked it up from the shelf and held it out to her. “Use this.”

  She stopped crying long enough to look at what he was holding. “I don’t want to read.”

  “No. You’re supposed to throw it at me. Get your anger out. Then you’ll feel better.” When she didn’t take it, he wiggled it in front of her. “Come on. You know you want to.”

  But she refused to take it. She only continued sobbing into her handkerchief.

  Well, this was awkward. Miss Cries-A-Lot seemed to be incapable of doing anything to properly vent her frustration. And to think he was going to have to put up with this for the rest of his life. With a grimace, he set the book next to the tea and crumpets then plopped back in his chair.

  He picked up another crumpet and bit into it, glancing around the room and wondering how long he should stay with her. Granted, he hadn’t expected her to be happy about seeing him, but he really had hoped they’d moved past the annoying stage where she was bemoaning her fate.

  “I’ve got to be honest,” he began after he swallowed another bite of his crumpet. “I don’t think I can go to your bed if you insist on acting like this.”

  “Then I shall cry a thousand rivers for the rest of my life,” she hissed through her tears.

  His eyebrows rose. So she was capable of feeling something other than intense despair. Good. At least they were getting somewhere.

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m really not that bad,” he told her.

  “Now you’re lying on top of everything else.”

  “I’m not lying. Compared to some gentlemen, I really am not that bad. Take Lord Edon. Before he married, he had all sorts of affairs with more ladies than I can count on both hands. Then there were Lords Davenport and Pennella who made a wager regarding an unsuspecting lady. At least I was honest enough to let you know my intentions.”

  “No, you didn’t. You never asked me if you could kiss me. And worse than that, you insinuated that I had some…some,” she choked on a tear then forced out, “liaison with you in a garden.”

  “No one believes we shared such a liaison,” he assured her, though he’d been hoping someone might. It would make him somewhat rakish. He was getting rather tired of being known as ‘that annoying earl who couldn’t mind his own business’. With a shrug, he added, “If we had such a liaison, maybe you wouldn’t be sobbing uncontrollably right now.”

  “If we had, I would have killed myself.”

  Intrigued by the fire in her tear-filled eyes, he gestured to the book. “Want to throw it at me now?”

  “I want you to undo the damage you caused.”

  “Unfortunately, I can’t. And even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

  “All because of money?”

  “Well…” He contemplated lying to her. He could say he had been admiring her from afar and couldn’t help himself, that he had to do something to stop her impending betrothal to Lord Waxman. But she’d see right through it. She had properly labeled him as a scoundrel who only did what was in his best interests. “All right. Yes, it was the money. You happen to come from one of the wealthiest families in London.”

  She glared at him as she wiped her cheeks.

  “Want to throw the book at me now?” When she didn’t answer him, he added, “It’ll make you feel better if you do it. Nothing good ever comes from holding your anger in.”

  He had hoped the suggestion would do the trick, but she only broke into a fresh wave of sobs and ran out of the room. He stared after her, not knowing what he should do. Should he go after her and try to comfort her? No. That wouldn’t do. Not only did he cringe at the idea of holding a crying lady, but her tears would make his clothes wet. Oh well. She would just have to cry. Sooner or later, she’d have to stop. No one would cry forever. At least, he didn’t think so.

  Footsteps pounding in the hallway brought his attention to the doorway, and her brother entered the room, slamming the doors behind him.

  Eyebrows raised, Logan stood up. “I didn’t touch her.”

  “Nor will you get the chance.”

  “You know that’s impossible. I need an heir at some point.”

  Malcolm scowled at him before he stormed over to the desk and pulled the drawer open. “How much?”

  “You know what they say. One heir and a spare, so I have to touch her at least two times.”

  “Not that, you dolt. You will never lay a hand on her ever again.”

  “Fine. Then I won’t touch her with my hands.”

  It must have taken Malcolm a moment to understand his meaning, for it took that long for his eyes to grow wide. “You are sham
eful, you know that?”

  “I never claimed to be as pristine as Lord Roderick.” Even now, Logan was still irritated Roderick had made it a point to come up to him to give him a lecture on how to properly behave.

  “It’s true. You are no Lord Roderick. You’re also no Lord Waxman. That was the gentleman my sister was supposed to marry.”

  He let out an exasperated sigh. “What is this about? We both know Lord Waxman won’t marry her anymore.”

  “You ruined her prospects of a good and decent gentleman.”

  “As I just told her, I’m not as bad as you think.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt of that. You’re probably worse.” Before Logan could respond, he held his hand up to stop him. “I’m here to bargain with you.”

  “Bargain?”

  Malcolm pulled out a small book and opened it. Taking the lid off the inkwell, he said, “While you have destroyed my sister’s chances of a good marriage, there’s still hope for her.”

  “There is?”

  “Unlike you, I care about my family.”

  For the first time since he came here, Logan’s mood darkened. “You don’t know anything about my family.”

  “I know they’re unfortunate to have you in it. I’d offer my condolences, but I have more pressing matters to tend to.” He dipped the quill in the ink then brought it over the bank note in the book. “How much will it take for you to release my sister from the marriage?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Money. How much do you want so my sister doesn’t have to marry you?”

  Logan stared at Malcolm whose quill was right above the note. Malcolm’s expectant gaze met his and held it. “You’re serious?” Logan asked.

  “I’d do anything to save my sister.”

  “She’d be better off married than a spinster.”

  “That’s your opinion.”

  “No, it’s a fact. She’d be better off married. At least with me, she’d be a countess and the mother of an earl.”

  “As you can tell, she doesn’t share your sentiment. So, give me a price, and I’ll pay you whatever you want.”

  Logan let out an uneasy chuckle. Surely, her brother couldn’t be serious. Not really. He was probably testing him to see what kind of morals he had. But even if that wasn’t the case, Logan couldn’t pass on his title to his son if the son didn’t exist. So, while he hadn’t thought of it sooner, the fact of the matter was, he needed more than Melissa’s money.

  “I’m not taking any payment,” Logan finally replied.

  Malcolm frowned. “Why not?”

  “Because…” Deciding he didn’t need to explain himself to Malcolm, he said, “I just won’t do it. I’m going to marry her.”

  “Even if we withhold the money you’d get by marrying her?”

  “I already paid the debt off.”

  “And you don’t need more money?”

  More money would be nice, that was true, but his immediate problem was resolved. He’d made good on the wager and wouldn’t make any more bets. Besides, all he had to do was take Melissa to his estate, and she’d be begging her father for the money to repair it. And her father, being the kind soul he was, wouldn’t let her live in a place that needed fixing. So Malcolm wasn’t really offering him anything he wanted.

  “If you want your nephew or niece to grow up in an estate that has seen better days, then I suppose Melissa and I will have to make do with our love,” Logan answered.

  Though Logan knew it was wrong, he felt a surge of triumph in watching her brother’s face turn red. “You can always marry someone else,” Malcolm said through gritted teeth.

  “Yes, I could. But I don’t want to,” Logan replied. “Your sister’s actually not bad to look at. Once you get past the tears, she’s quite pretty.”

  And it was true. She had hair so dark it made him think of a starless night, and it complimented her smooth white skin and rosy lips. Then there was the rest of her. Having the heir wouldn’t be a burden. And besides, there was a spark of passion in her eyes. Granted, the passion was borne out of utter contempt for him, but maybe someday she might turn that energy into desire to make love to him.

  “I don’t like where your thoughts are going,” her brother muttered, squaring his shoulders back as if he was prepared to fight him.

  “You can’t read my mind,” Logan replied.

  “So you’re not thinking of having that heir with my sister?”

  Just because he knew it’d bother the gentleman to no end, Logan’s lips curled up into a sly smile. “Well, maybe you can read my mind.”

  “I forbid you to marry her.”

  “I’m afraid you can’t do that. Besides, your father heartily approves the match. Your father’s a good gentleman, by the way.”

  Malcolm released his breath, but Logan noticed the way he clutched the quill in his hand.

  Deciding he’d better leave before things got unpleasant, Logan offered him a smile, if for no other reason than to further upset him, and said, “I’ll see myself out.”

  Then, before Malcolm could say anything, he hurried out of the drawing room. He knew things would be difficult with her brother. They were likely to be difficult with her, too. But probably more so with the brother. What neither of them knew, however, was that Logan didn’t frighten easily. He was sure whatever happened, he could handle it.

  Chapter Four

  “That has to be the most irritating gentleman in all of London,” Malcolm growled as he stormed into the den where Melissa was sitting on the settee next to her father.

  “I told you not to see him,” her father replied, keeping his arm around her shoulders as he sought to comfort her.

  “I had to do something.” Malcolm let out a long sigh then sat in the chair across from them. Leaning forward, he shot their father a pointed look. “Tell me you don’t approve of this marriage.”

  Her father kindly smiled at him. “I can’t do that, Malcolm. I think the earl will be good for Melissa.”

  “You can’t mean that,” Melissa cried, appalled her father would dare say such a thing, and in front of her nonetheless!

  “Shhh…” he soothed, patting her shoulder. “You need to take a deep breath. The last thing we need is for you to faint again.”

  She didn’t need the reminder. Right after her brother had punched Lord Toplyn, she’d fainted. She didn’t remember it. Well, she remembered wobbling on her feet and crying out, but then everything went dark. She’d woken up in the carriage just as they came to a stop in front of her townhouse. She also remembered the way Lord Toplyn’s unconscious body had been slumped in the seat next to her brother. Fortunately, her brother had been sitting between them so she’d been spared touching the horrid earl.

  Brushing back her tears, she took a deep breath and felt a little better. But only a little. “Can I live here after I marry him?” she asked, turning to her father.

  “My dear, if you do that, you’ll never get to know him.”

  “But I don’t want to get to know him.”

  “Nor should she,” her brother added, his tone adamant. “The best thing is for her to get out of this marriage. Even if her reputation is ruined and no one will marry her, she’ll fare much better than being with him.”

  “That’s not true,” her father replied. “Since she was a little girl, she’s wanted children. She won’t have them if she doesn’t marry someone.”

  Melissa felt bile rise up in her throat. With Lord Waxman, his kiss and touch had been so tender, so very sweet. But Lord Toplyn… She shuddered. She’d get more pleasure out of kissing a snake, and considering how much she hated those things, that was saying something.

  “We mustn’t talk this way in front of her,” her father said. “She’s not strong enough to handle it.”

  “You’re right,” Malcolm replied, glancing her way with tenderness in his eyes. “But it’d be best if she was spared having to marry him at all.”

  “If only such a way did exist.” She sniffled and acc
epted a fresh handkerchief from her brother.

  “There has to be a way,” her brother said. “Certainly, there must be something we can do to convince him to release you from this marriage.”

  Her father shook his head. “Enough of this talk, Malcolm. You’ll only upset your sister more.”

  Malcolm gestured to her. “She’s upset because of the marriage, not because of me.”

  She wiped more tears from her eyes. Why couldn’t she stop crying? No matter what she did, the tears just came. They were relentless. And her poor eyes were puffy and her cheeks red. She couldn’t even visit Lord Waxman to tell him the bad news. And he was such a sweet, gentle soul.

  “I have to tell Lord Waxman I can’t marry him,” Melissa said once she could trust her voice not to waver. “He was going to ask you for my hand, Papa.”

  “I know,” her father replied and patted her shoulder again. “But sometimes when things change, they change for the better.”

  “Not with Lord Toplyn.” She took another deep breath to steady her breathing. “Things will be awful with him.”

  “You can’t be sure of that.”

  “You weren’t with me in the drawing room when he was talking to me.”

  “What did he say?” Malcolm asked.

  She couldn’t bring herself to mention what he’d said about not kissing—and then kissing—her. It was bad enough she was in the room when he said it! “He told me to throw a book at him.”

  To her surprise, her father laughed. “What a brilliant idea.”

  “What’s so brilliant about it?” Malcolm asked.

  “He picked an item that wouldn’t do any real damage. There are many things in that room worth a great value,” her father pointed out. Despite Malcolm’s grunt, her father turned his attention back to her. “Did you do it?”

  “Of course not. I’m not uncivilized,” she replied, shocked he’d even think her capable of doing such a thing.

  “You should,” her father said. “You’ll feel better.”

  “I can’t ever hurt anyone. It’s not ladylike.”

  “Perhaps he doesn’t want you to be ladylike.”

  Before she had a chance to comment, her brother groaned. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He said you were fully supportive of this marriage, Father, and I couldn’t believe him until now. Don’t you care about what this is doing to your daughter?”

 

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