An Earl For Hire

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  No, never mind all of that. Now that Rayne was properly wed and respectable again, Miri was now the problem, even though up until this point, she had merely been eccentric but harmless. Now? Well, now she was blot upon the family name until she wed a proper gentleman who would quickly plant a baby in her belly and confiscate her telescopes - not necessarily in that order.

  Well, that and the fact that Sarah firmly believed that "other factors" that had resulted in her dismissal from Mrs. Witherson's might come back to haunt them all and cause even more scandal than Rayne himself had managed when he was still a known rake and libertine. Miri didn't share her sister in law's belief, but unfortunately Rayne did. Which was something of an enormous problem and all of Miri's pleas to the contrary were not enough to change her brother's mind on the matter. He was right, Sarah was right, their mother was right, and Miri was wrong and she needed a husband and that was the end of that. Thank you very much.

  No matter that Miri was now two and twenty and of an age to know her own mind. No, her opinion no longer counted for much of anything, which was why she was attending this dratted ball in the first place rather than hiding on the roof of the family's townhome with her telescopes and gazing at the silent stars that were always in perfect and proper order.

  She had been ordered by her brother to find a husband - sooner rather than later. And he was in no mood at present to take no for an answer - especially from his "obstinate" sister. His word for her and not Miri's name for herself.

  The incident at Mrs. Witherson's was something of a blot on the family name, she would grant her brother that. However, Miri still believed that Mrs. Witherson herself was wrong for not recognizing that Miri had been the victim in what had transpired. She was certainly not the perpetrator. Nor had she in any way encouraged what had happened. Though she had been the one to put an end to things - not that anyone really believed that either.

  And, of course, the only true witness to what had actually occurred was Miri's best friend and confidante, Lady Pearl Weston, whose reputation was little better than Miri's at the moment.

  So Miri did accept some share of the blame for the whispers now circulating about her family. However, all of her sisters were married and Sarah and Brook's daughters, should there be any, would not come of age for years. Plenty of time for any hint of gossip to have long since died away. Not in Sarah's mind however, and with Miri's own mother tending to side with her daughter in law these days, there was little room for argument. The words of the elder females in the Raynecourt household were viewed as law. And at the moment, at least where Miri was concerned, those words included "find a respectable husband...quickly."

  Which was why Miri was dressed in a pale green evening gown that she despised because it made her look as if she was still in the schoolroom and doing her best to do what she always did at events like this - blend into the background so that no one noticed her until she could make her escape. However, escaping tonight was proving far more difficult than normal.

  Already, she had been all but forced to surrender her dance card to Lord Buxton who was likely to drag her about the dance floor like a rag doll during his requested waltz and then laugh at her infirmity later at one of his many clubs, as well as to Lord Stillborough who had requested a country dance, even though he knew very well she could not perform the necessary steps without a great deal of assistance - which he would not provide, of course. The Viscount was nice enough, she supposed, but he wanted a mother for his young son and it was rumored he did not care much for female companionship. He simply desired a quiet wife who would do as he said, not expect any children of her own and leave him to his own life while she remained tucked away in the country. If Miri was ever to marry, that was not the sort of man she would choose for herself.

  A glance at her dance card told her that the waltz was only a set away, which was why she felt compelled to make her escape now. When the orchestra moved into that romantic and slightly scandalous dance, she needed to be as far away from the ballroom as possible. Thankfully, she had almost reached a small panel hidden in the wall behind what looked like a decorative curtain.

  The panel was a remnant from a previous incarnation of the ballroom, one that had never been removed for some reason and led only to a narrow servant's hallway that led deeper into the house and opened up near the library. Usually it was kept locked, but Miri had made a habit of bribing her maid Susan with a few extra coins to unlock the door once balls and other assorted entertainments began. Before an event, the door was always checked to make certain Miri could not use it to escape, but after the event began, it never was looked at again. What was the point, after all? It was assumed to be secure.

  Now, it was that door that Miri inched towards, praying that Sarah, who was laughing with her friends across the room, would not notice the direction Miri was heading. Luck was on her side, for her sister in law appeared utterly engrossed in the conversation she was having with Lady Jane St. Giles, the Countess of Covington and Lady Eliza Rosemont, Duchess of Candlewood. Sarah never noticed Miri pop open the secret door and scoot inside as fast as her bad leg would allow.

  Once safely behind the door, Miri latched it again so no one could follow her and then set off down the dimly lit corridor at a much more sedate pace so as not to aggravate her leg. Long shadows paced the wall in front of her from the wall sconces that were kept lit in case of emergency, but she did not hesitate in her steps. She knew she could not go directly to the roof where her telescopes and a clear night sky awaited, for if her absence from the ball was noticed, that would be the first place her family would search for her. Instead, her goal was to reach the safety of the family's library. That room held an array of other secret doors and passages, those too relics of a time long past and never removed. If she heard someone coming, there were plenty of ways to escape the room with no one being the wiser.

  Upon reaching the library, she was a bit surprised to find the door unlocked and the branches of candles scattered about the room already lit, as if someone was anticipating a visitor here. Which was, of course, absurd. It was likely the work of a servant anticipating Miri's desire to sneak away from the ball. Most of the household staff knew very well Miri's distaste for Society and understood her need for isolation. They aided her whenever they were able, though as of late it had become more difficult under Sarah's ever-watchful eye.

  Stepping inside, she rubbed her leg idly. It was beginning to pain her a bit and Miri knew she needed to rest before it gave out on her completely. She was even happier now that she was away from that infernal ball. What sort of embarrassment would she suffer if her leg gave out in front of all of her brother's guests? She shuddered to think of the humiliation.

  Miri drew in a deep breath and allowed the calm silence of the library to flow over her as she drank in the deep, rich leathery scent of the books surrounding her. Like all Bexleys, she had always found solace in books and never more so as of late. The stars were only visible at night but books were always there for her if she needed an escape. Tonight, her nerves were rubbed raw, especially after her latest debate with Sarah over her need for a husband.

  Limping over to the area where the Gothic novels were kept, Miri did her best to avoid looking at the section next to her favorite reading material. That was where her brother hid all of his naughty books among dry agricultural and farming tomes in the vain hope that no one would recognize them for what they really were - books with pictures depicting all sorts of depraved, carnal acts. However, he was fooling no one but himself. Save for their mother, who never really took note of much that went on around her that did not include a party or entertainment of some sort, every member of the Bexley household knew precisely what was in those books and that included Sarah.

  As did Miri. In fact, those were among her most favorite books in the library, for they showed her a world she could never hope to enter. They provided her a glimpse of something she yearned for more than she did her beloved stars on some occasions.
They were also not in the least bit proper, especially for an unwed young woman. Not that she cared. No, not a whit.

  She should ignore those books, even though they tempted her so very badly. Miri knew she should. Yet she could not help but run her fingers over the soft leather binding. Those books reminded her of all she would never have. The truth was that though she did not wish to be married, she did wish to know what transpired between a man and a woman, that knowledge preferably gained in person and not through the pages of a book. She could and did look at her brother's book collection on occasion. Like her knowledge of the stars, she knew, on paper at least, what it was like to make love with a man, but she had no practical knowledge of such things and it was very doubtful that she ever would. After all, she had never even been kissed. But she wanted to know. In fact, there were some nights when she thought she might even trade her beloved telescopes in exchange for a man's touch upon her breast.

  More than simply wanting that knowledge, some days Miri all but burned for it. And that desire shamed her even more. She was wanton. She knew that. And yet, it was what she desired. And she could not exactly feel sorry about that either.

  Miri wanted to experience what every other young lady in Society did. She desired to know what went on behind a closed bedchamber door between a man and a woman. She simply did not want to give up her independence or her stars to obtain that knowledge or to have at least a taste of passion. Not to mention that there was also her Aunt Beanie to consider.

  Aunt Beanie had loved and lost the only man she could care for in the space of less than a year. Lord Howard Bexley, Duke of Barnstable and Miri's distant cousin, had been older when he had met and fallen for the fresh-from-the-schoolroom, Lady Beatrice "Beanie" Farnsworth. They had married quickly after being scandalously caught naked together in Vauxhall Gardens one May night. Many had doubted the union would last but their love had been passionate beyond anything most people ever experienced.

  A freak horse riding accident eleven months later had left Beanie a young widow with a newborn daughter to care for and a bank full of money to ensure that the daughter of the Duke of Barnstable could have all of the luxuries in life she needed. However, fate was cruel again and when the babe was just over a year old, her life was stolen by a fever, leaving Beanie completely alone save for her young nieces and nephews by marriage.

  So Beanie had thrown herself into their lives with a fervor, doting on all of them but most especially Miri. It was in Miri that Aunt Beanie saw so much of her younger self and it was Aunt Beanie who had defended Miri when others in Society cut her or laughed at her. When the Bexley finances waned a bit as Miri aged, it was Aunt Beanie who made certain that all of the Bexley girls had what they needed to survive in Society. When the family's good fortune returned, Beanie kept on giving, making it a point to grant one poor but deserving young lady a year the means to have a successful Season.

  "The Letter," as notification of the chosen young woman's blessings was referred to, was eagerly awaited every year. Gossip sheets vied to be the first to learn what lucky girl was to be that year's recipient of Beanie's largesse.

  What no one knew, however, was that for the last three years, Miri had been the one who determined the recipient of The Letter. She also administered the trust that kept Aunt Beanie's fund flush with funds for the project. For in truth, Aunt Beanie's health was failing and had been for some time. Three years ago, when her eyesight began to fail, Beanie had asked Miri, her most trusted and beloved niece, to take over for her where The Letter was concerned.

  For Miri, that was among the highest honors she could have ever been given and yet another reason she did not wish to marry. What husband would accept a wife who managed an aged aunt's finances? Nor could Miri betray the secret of Aunt Beanie's failing health to her family, at least not until Beanie herself gave approval. And right now, that approval was not forthcoming. Beanie feared that if her family knew how she was faring, they would end The Letter program and strip away what was left of her independence. She feared that more than death and had sworn Miri to secrecy.

  Thus far, Miri had kept that secret, but if her family forced her to wed? She had no idea if she could continue to do so, at least not without giving at least something of her activities away.

  Her hand resting on one of the explicit books, Miri let out a sigh. She might wish to know physical passion, but it was not to be. Not for her. No man wanted a wife with a lame leg, middling looks, a skinny body, and who cared for an ailing aunt who handed out money to poor young ladies of the ton so that they might snare husbands for themselves. And if such a man existed? Well, Miri had yet to meet him and doubted she ever would. He was probably little better than a fairy tale.

  Just as she was about to select a novel from the shelf, she heard a man's heavy footfalls striding rapidly down the corridor. As fast as she was able, Miri scurried to a small, cushioned alcove that her brother had designed as a reading nook when he had redone the library just after he became the earl. Thick brocade curtains shielded the nook from most prying eyes. In fact, if one did not know where to look, it was just about impossible to see the private area. It was a perfect place for Miri to hide until the man was gone. Accessing the other hidden doors would take time and more strength than her leg had remaining. So it was either scurry into the alcove or risk discovery. The second choice was not really an option.

  Why she was even hiding when this was her, or rather her brother's house, Miri did not know, though she supposed it had to do with the fact that she had no wish to be caught sneaking away from her brother's ball. If she caused a commotion in here, she would be discovered and then would be forced to return to the ball. She could stand her ground or she could hide. Given that hiding would allow her to eventually escape to the roof, she deciding hiding was the better option.

  She had just pulled her walking stick inside the little reading nook with her when she heard the library door open and that same, unknown man stride inside. She risked a small peek through the curtains when she thought the man wasn't looking, but all she could see was a slightly curly, wavy head of blonde hair. That told her nothing about the man who had invaded her family's library. Nor did the scent of bay rum that seemed to cling to him as he walked past her hiding place as he paced.

  The man was nervous. She could tell that easily enough, but she could discern little else. With another quick peek, she could tell that he was tall and muscular as well. If he was here in her brother's home, he was also likely a peer. Her brother had some friends who were not of the nobility, in particular a barrister and a Bow Street Runner, but she knew that neither Jacob nor Harry were attending the ball.

  Finally, the man stopped pacing and listened. Miri did the same and could just barely make out the faint tap of a woman's dancing slippers coming down the hall. An assignation? Here in her family's library? How dare they? She would not stand for it! Discovery be damned, she would not allow her brother's library to be used in such a manner!

  Just as Miri was about to announce herself to the dallying couple, the doors swung open and a high, obnoxious-sounding female voice all but trilled with false laughter.

  "Lord Blackthorne! I didn't expect that you would be here!"

  So. The male intruder was Lord William Davenport, the Earl of Blackthorne. That answered one question. But who was the woman? And why were they meeting in her family's library?

  "Where else would I be, Lady Colchester?" Another question answered. He was meeting one of the most notorious women of the ton, one who cared little that she cuckolded her husband at every turn. Miri was again about to announce herself but she paused. There was something humorless and bleak in Blackthorne's voice that made Miri shiver with dread, as if she was witnessing a man going to his execution. She did not like the feeling. "I believe we have business to discuss?"

  The woman laughed again and it was like fingernails dragging down Miri's spine. "Am I allowed to inspect the merchandise first?" Another laugh and a swish of fabric, as if t
he woman was reaching for something.

  "No." Blackthorne's voice was cold now, almost frigid, and Miri resisted the urge to pull herself into a ball to protect herself.

  Lady Colchester sniffed a bit indignantly. "Pity. But I have heard rumors that you are...generously blessed in that regard."

  "I am amply blessed in that regard and my performance in the bedchamber has never been questioned. Trust that I can satisfy you in every way you might desire."

  Her third question answered Miri felt as if she was going to be sick.

  Chapter Three

  It was taking all of Will's strength not to simply walk out of Lord Raynecourt's library and tell Lady Colchester to find another gentleman to play with. Earlier when she had approached him and politely inquired about his "availability" as if she was commenting on the weather, he had been given a false sense of courage. Out there, in Raynecourt's ballroom, what he was about to agree to did not feel nearly as sordid as it did at this very second. What had seemed like a business transaction now seemed like utter debasement, and he suddenly had a new understanding as to how whores must feel when they sold themselves to a man. It was utterly humiliating. It was degrading. It made him feel less than human.

  And yet...he had no choice.

  Lady Colchester took her time perusing his still fully-clothed body with her hungry eyes. He would not disrobe for her here in a stranger's library. He was not that low and crass. At least not yet.

  "For my fifty thousand pounds, I ought to be able to inspect what I am about to purchase, William," Lady Colchester whined again and Will had to resist the urge to shudder. Or run away.

  "And what of anticipation, my lady?" he asked, hoping to deflect her curiosity, for he knew that if he disrobed now, the woman would be on her knees, his cock in her mouth before he could protest. This woman's appetites in the bedroom were hardly a secret and she hadn't had a lover in nearly two months. She was beyond eager for some prime, young male flesh. Or younger than her anyway, though at the moment, Will felt older than Methuselah himself.