The Earl's Perfect Match

by Kimberly Nee

  The door to her chambers was closed, and Elena paused before knocking. What if the lady refused to speak with her? What if Conn really had trapped himself in the hole he’d dug?

  And why was she, once again, trying to patch up one of her brother’s broken romances?

  And why didn’t she make Conn do this instead?

  “Because you feel sorry for the big oaf, that’s why,” she muttered, rapping her knuckles against the wood and feeling as if she somehow stepped back in time. She almost expected Diego to answer the door and for Claudia to be inside, sobbing over Galen.

  “Yes?”

  “Miss Chandler, it’s Elena Sebastiano. May I speak with you?”

  “Whatever he has to say, I’ve no interest in hearing.”

  “He isn’t with me. I’m alone. May I come in?”

  Footsteps sounded and then the key grated in the lock and the door opened. Cordelia peered out, her eyes swollen and red, her cheeks still shiny. “What is it?”

  “I’ve come to sympathize. I know Conn can be an oaf at times.”

  “An oaf? That’s far too kind for that heartless, wretched—” Cordelia whipped about to stalk toward the windows. “Rogue. That’s what he is. A heartless, flirting rogue. And I’m finished with him.”

  Elena certainly didn’t fault her for her anger. But at the same time, she didn’t want to see either Cordelia or Conn miss what might be the chance of a lifetime with one another. “I know, but—” She glanced down the corridor. Empty, but one never knew when a servant might wander their way. “I’d rather not be overheard, if it’s all the same to you, Miss Chandler.”

  With a heavy sigh of forbearance, Cordelia nodded. “Come in.”

  As Elena came into the room, Cordelia closed and relocked the door.

  “Conn’s not coming up here,” Elena said.

  “It’s not for him. It’s to keep my mother out. She’s been driving me mad with the lectures and insistence on sending me abroad until the scandal blows over.”

  “What scandal?”

  Cordelia shot her a look of exasperation. “That your brother compromised me and refuses to marry me.”

  Elena made a mental note to throttle Conn when she saw him again, and rubbed her forehead. “He’s confused, Cordelia. I think you have him thinking about things he never thought he’d think before.”

  Cordelia’s forehead wrinkled. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Conn has always made it known he had no intention of marrying. At least, not any time soon. All of my brothers were like that, you see. And one by one, each one crumbled at the feet of some fortunate lady. He’s the last one and now that it’s happened, I think he’s not quite certain what he’s supposed to do.”

  “What he’s supposed to do? He’s supposed to not lie, that’s what he’s supposed to do.”

  “I don’t think he was exactly lying at the moment in which he might have said—whatever it was he said.” Elena leaned against the low chest and looked about as she tried to think of the best words to describe Conn. Cordelia’s chambers were smaller than hers, but just as elegant, with a large four-poster bed draped in pale green hangings that matched the green-and-gold flocked wallpaper. She wondered if that corridor within the walls passed by this room, and if so, where the entrance was.

  “He said he’d never felt about any lady the way he did about me. That he couldn’t stop thinking about me. And if I would only kiss him, I would have his heart for all the days to come.”

  Elena crossed the room to the terrace, rolling her eyes as soon as she was beyond Cordelia’s line of sight. That sounded so much like him, and it sounded so trite to her own ears that her mental note to throttle him grew stronger. “If you like, I’ll hold him down so you might slap him.”

  “I don’t want to slap him, Elena.” Cordelia’s voice floated over Elena’s right shoulder. “I know it’s foolish, and he’s leaving soon and he had no intention of ever marrying me, but still… I love him.”

  The naked pain in the lady’s voice brought a heavy sigh to Elena’s lips. Damn it, Conn. When will you learn?

  She turned to see Cordelia the picture of misery as she sank onto the velvet bench at the foot of her bed, legs tucked up beneath her, head in one hand. “I don’t know if it means much, Cordelia, but I don’t think he doesn’t love you, exactly. I don’t know if he does in the way you want him to. But don’t think you mean nothing to him, because that isn’t true.”

  And it most likely wasn’t. Conn wasn’t in the habit of chasing women he disliked, no matter how pretty or shapely they might be. He was a rake, but not a superficial one.

  “Are you certain he doesn’t have someone on St. Phillippe?” Cordelia asked. “That that’s not why he hesitates?”

  “No.” Elena shook her head. “He has no sweetheart anxiously awaiting his return. That’s partly the trouble. He has many who’ve hoped to win him and yet no one has been able to determine exactly how to go about doing that.”

  A sharp rap sounded on the door. “Cordelia, are you almost ready?”

  Cordelia swiped at her eyes with her hand. “Yes, Mother.”

  Elena touched her arm. “Cordelia, please, talk to him before you go.”

  “I have nothing to say to him.”

  Elena sighed softly, sinking onto the bench beside Cordelia and covering her hand with hers. “I know he can be a cad. And you want to hit him. Everyone wants to at one point or another. But you’re leaving in a bit. Once my wedding is over, he’ll be leaving as well. Only he’ll be all the way on the other side of the world, instead of just the other side of London. And I don’t know when he’ll return. St. Phillippe is far from here, very far.”

  “I know. He described it to me.” Cordelia’s eyes brightened momentarily. “And he made it sound so beautiful. I couldn’t wait to see it for myself.”

  “It is beautiful.” Elena couldn’t deny the slight pang at her heart at the mention of home. She would miss St. Phillippe, although she knew she’d come to think of England as home as long as Bennett was with her. They would visit of course, and in time, she would probably miss England the way she did St. Phillippe now. “You do understand Conn would never be happy here. He would be content to visit, but living here would never suit him.”

  “It doesn’t suit me,” Cordelia said, swiping at her right eye with the tip of her little finger. “So many restrictions and rules. A lady mustn’t do this and she mustn’t do that. I could do with a little less ‘mustn’t,’ myself.”

  “I understand exactly how you feel,” Elena told her. “Would you be happy being so far from your family?”

  The look Cordelia gave her was one Elena thought she might see on a prisoner finally being set free. “I would love to be that far from them. Christina’s the one they fuss over. I’m the afterthought. The mistake. The one no one ever wanted. And with a stutter besides. Truth be told, I don’t think anyone would miss me.”

  “Cordelia!” Lady Montrose banged on the door harder this time. “The coach is ready. We’re leaving in a quarter of an hour. Be ready.”

  “See.” Cordelia swept a hand toward the door. “I was a disappointment to them because of everything. I’d rather live somewhere where no one would judge me and find me lacking.”

  “Then talk to Conn.” Elena patted her hand again. “Go. You have fifteen minutes. Make the most of it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Bennett squeezed Elena’s hand gently. “So, did they make up?”

  She nodded, shivering as his thumb stroked along the flat of her hand. The weather had cleared by luncheon and now sunlight poured into the butterfly garden. All around her flitted the small, brightly colored butterflies as they played among the purple, yellow, and pale blue flowering shrubs. “I think so. But with Conn, no woman has yet to truly tame him.”

  “Ah, but if she cares for him, should she try?”

  She glanced up at him. “In some ways, absolutely. You don’t know my brother.”

  “I know the sort.�
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  “Do you? How, when he is so utterly unlike you?”

  Bennett grinned. “I wasn’t always so stiff, I’ll have you know. A decade ago, I was every bit as much the rake as your brother. I hadn’t yet acknowledged my responsibilities and I reveled in every bit of mischief I could find.”

  She paused, turning to look fully at him. While he did present a very proper image, knowing him as she did, she could also imagine a younger version of him, a wealthy young bachelor. A handsome, wealthy, young bachelor. It was very easy to see ladies of all walks of life lusting for him, and him doing his best to accommodate them.

  Perhaps that part she didn’t wish to see so easily.

  “Were there many?”

  “Many what, darling?”

  “Women. Before me. I know you’ve said you’ve known others intimately. How many? Will I ever be socializing with any of them? Just so I know.”

  He stared at her as if unable to believe she’d just asked that. “I beg your pardon?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not a fool, Bennett. I know there’s more than one. So, I’m curious, how many were there? Three? Six? Twenty?”

  “I haven’t counted, Elena. It wasn’t as if I kept a diary of them.” He gestured to a small silvery butterfly. “One of my favorites, a silver-studded blue.”

  She eased her hand from his to cross her arms. “Why don’t you want to tell me?”

  “Because it’s inappropriate. That’s why.”

  “I shouldn’t know how many lovers you’ve had? Have there been that many?” She stared at him. “Will I be entertaining any of them? All of them? Will they giggle and whisper and drop silly little hints about just how well they know you?”

  He rolled his eyes and reached up to rub the back of his neck. “This is silly. I am not having this conversation. As I told you before, there were enough for me to learn what I needed to, in order to make sure you never leave our bed wanting.”

  That left her with a sour taste in her mouth and a bad feeling all over. Why was she pushing, when the revelation only made her sorry she pushed? She slowly unfolded her arms, clasping her hands as she shrugged. “I suppose I’m jealous of them.”

  “Jealous? Why?”

  “Because they knew you before, when you were young and carefree. Before all the talks of curses and male heirs started preying on your mind and became the center of your world.”

  “And you know me now”—he turned to her and caught her face between his hands, tilting her head to meet his gaze—“when I’m not so selfish that I care only about my own pleasure. When I am no longer bound by my fears. When I truly wish to love the woman I’m with, in every way that I can, until she collapses from it.”

  “You were probably very dashing.” She couldn’t keep the wistfulness from her voice.

  “Were? I like to think I still am.”

  She smiled. “You are. Very dashing, in fact. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  “You couldn’t if you tried. Haven’t I already told you that?” He bent slightly and brushed a gentle kiss across her lips.

  She slid her arms about his waist, her hands easing beneath his frock coat to press flat into his back, to pull him into her. His fingers splayed across her cheeks, reached up into her hair, and as she parted her lips, his kiss deepened, his tongue caressing hers in a heady rush.

  He pulled away, his nose gently bumping hers as he whispered, “I love you,” and wrapped her in his embrace. “You needn’t worry about anything else.”

  She rested her head on his chest, content to remain there for the rest of her days, with the warm sunshine spilling over them and the gentle breeze lifting her hair to tickle her cheek. She smiled as Bennett pressed his cheek into the top of her head and tightened his arms about her.

  “We should probably think about going inside. The dinner gong will be rung shortly,” he said, after a few minutes of absolute peace.

  “I’d rather stay here.”

  “As would I, but I’m also curious to see who actually joins us at dinner. Perhaps ours is not the only wedding that will take place here.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that, Bennett.” She slipped her arm through his as they turned to make their way inside Dunning Court. “Conn would be miserable, living in England. He’s happiest at the wheel of the Persephone. I can’t see him happy here or even remaining permanently on St. Phillippe, and that’s his home.”

  “Is St. Phillippe so terrible?” he asked with a grin.

  “No. It’s wonderful. It’s miles of golden beaches, and the water is warm even in the cold season, and there are cool breezes that blow in off the sea to keep us from melting in the heat.” She smiled, feeling another bit of a pang for her childhood home. “And there are terrific storms that lash the entire island, but when they go, they leave behind brilliant blue skies and calm seas. It’s like paradise. I think you’ll like it, but you might have to take care not to burn.”

  “I don’t suppose you have that problem?”

  She laughed at the very notion. “I don’t. But my hair gets the prettiest streaks of gold and red in it.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “And I like to swim in the ocean at night.” She squeezed his arm against her. “Do you swim?”

  He shook his head. “Are you wearing anything when you’re swimming?”

  “No.” Her smile widened. “I’m not.”

  He groaned softly in the back of his throat. “I’ll learn to swim.”

  She chuckled, tucking her head against his chest. “It’s very easy to learn. I’ll be more than happy to teach you.”

  “Good to know.” He paused at the entrance to the butterfly garden. “I rather like the idea of making love to you on a beach, beneath a full moon.”

  Her cheeks grew warm with a pleasant heat. “Is that so, my lord?”

  “Without a doubt. That night, in the maze, all I could think about was how stunning you’d look all bathed in silver beneath me.”

  “I do like how that sounds.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “Besides, we’re already here and the maze is far more secluded.”

  He pressed a kiss into the top of her head. “I’ll keep that in mind. But for now, tell me more about St. Phillippe, since I’m hoping to see it in the very near future.”

  “You are?” She lifted her head to peer up at him.

  “Absolutely. I’m quite curious to see the island paradise that gave me my countess.” His hand went still, and he leaned over to brush her ear with his lips as he whispered, “And I most definitely want to hear more about you swimming without clothes.”

  By then they’d reached the house. Giving him a long look, she reached up to slide her arms about his neck and pulled him closer. “And here I thought you to be a gentleman, my lord.”

  “I am, for the most part.” He flashed a boyish grin. “Now, shall we go dress for dinner? I’m curious to learn how Conn made out.”

  Elena smiled, remembering Cordelia’s muffled voice and her own promise that she’d say nothing. “I think everything is going to work out just fine between them. They are perfectly matched, Conn and Cordelia.”

  Bennett’s eyes softened and he bent to kiss her gently on the lips. She tightened her arms about his neck, her mouth moving with his as she savored the tenderness of it. When he pulled away, he murmured, “On second thought, dinner will wait.”

  As he spoke, he scooped her up into his arms. Draping her arms about his neck, she smiled. “I couldn’t agree more, my lord.”

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  About the Author

  Kim fell in love with historical romance when she was sixteen, and blames it on Kathleen Woodiwiss, since it was her The Flame and the Flower that got her hooked. Not long after finishing it, she sat down to write one herself and now, many moons later, she’s still writing them. A native of New Jersey, Kim stil
l lives there with her husband, their two children, and their dumb but lovable boxer/lab mix, Roxy. When she’s not writing, she’s a gym rat who weight trains, does cardio grudgingly, and like a true Jersey girl, is obsessed with Bruce Springsteen, the New York Giants, the New York Rangers, and the New York Yankees. She’s also strangely fond of tattoos, American history, Tom Hiddleston, the Rolling Stones, and reading, and not necessarily in that order.

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  When I’m With You

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