The Earl of Kent: A League of Rogues Novel and a Wicked Earls’ Club Novel

by Smith, Lauren

  “My lord, the men of the village requested you to help find the Yule log. I wasn’t sure if we were to stay or…pursue the lady.”

  Beyond Marcus a group of a dozen men, presumably town leaders and businessmen, stood waiting and watching hopefully.

  “You have time,” Cora whispered before she stepped away and let him stand on his own. He kept a careful grip on the cane that Cora had retrieved and nodded.

  “Very well, then. Gentlemen, show me the way.”

  He spent the next two hours in the woods on the hill by the old Norman church, watching the sun set beneath the Gothic structure before a suitable log was found. He spent the entire time on his feet, relying less on his cane that he’d expected, and he was damned proud of that fact. He hadn’t moved this much in months, and he’d forgotten how good it felt.

  “My lord?” The innkeeper offered Phillip an ax. Phillip curled his hands around the handle, feeling a fresh sense of power rise inside him. Fueled by hope for the first time in years, he swung the ax a dozen times until the tree was felled and the log was made.

  The men of the village came behind him, the large Yule log in tow. The boisterous singing of the townsmen following him had a strange effect. It bolstered his spirits, reviving him from the broken shell he’d been only an hour before.

  Now, as he led the villagers back to town, he was ready to go after Ella. Ready to show her that he could be the man she deserved if she gave him just one more chance.

  “Marcus, have my coach ready,” he commanded as he left the townsfolk to celebrate the season.

  “Already taken care of, my lord.” Marcus pointed to the waiting coach. “The traveling cases have all been packed, and we are ready to leave whenever you like.”

  Phillip clapped Marcus on the shoulder. “Thank you. You and Cora have proven to be friends to me today, if it’s not too bold a claim for your employer to make.”

  His valet grinned. “Not at all, my lord.”

  Phillip, Marcus, and Cora boarded the coach and settled in for the two-hour ride to Pembroke’s estate. Once at the gates, the horses had trouble pulling the coach through the heavy snow. With a growl, Phillip grabbed his cane and climbed out.

  Marcus followed him. “My lord?”

  “No, it’s all right. Stay with Cora and the driver. I’ll send for help when I reach the house.” He was not going to be weak anymore. He would walk a hundred miles in the freezing darkness to reach Ella. The distant lights of James’s home twinkled merrily, beckoning rather than mocking him. If he could but reach the house and Ella, he might win back what he’d lost by his foolish fears.

  His bad leg cramped within a dozen feet of the door, but he refused to stop. He nearly fell once when his right trouser leg caught on something deep in the snow and the fabric tore. He marshaled his strength and limped forward, leaning on his cane for strength, until at last he could tap the knocker on the door. A footman answered and offered him a bright smile.

  “Lord Kent! Welcome! His lordship will be delighted that you’ve arrived.” The footman glanced behind him. “If I might ask, how did you arrive, my lord?”

  “My coach,” Phillip said, panting a little. “It’s trapped by the gates in the snow.”

  “Oh! I’ll send some men at once.” The footman helped him inside and took his coat and hat. “They’re dancing in the ballroom if you wish to go now, or you may go upstairs to settle in first.”

  “Thank you.” He knew the way to the ballroom, having been friends with James for years, but as he reached the open doors and gripped the gilded handles, doubt crept back in. What if Ella had hardened her heart against him already? What if he was too late?

  Laughter and cheerful music slipped through the doors, and Phillip prayed that life would grant him one last miracle for Christmas. Then he opened the doors.

  Dancers whirled by in explosions of colorful gowns. From the door he searched the dancers in the crowd, looking for any trace of Ella. And there she was, wearing an orange taffeta gown with a bright-blue bow at the waist, which trailed down over her bottom and flared out as she spun. She was the most exquisite thing he had ever seen.

  Graham held her in his arms, twirling her too much, which made her laugh as she almost hit another dancer. Phillip found himself grinning like a fool. The two people he loved most in this world—his best friend and Ella—were here and happy. He could only hope that what he was about to do next didn’t ruin everything.

  He walked carefully between the dancers, heading straight toward the pair. People slowed to a stop around him as he reached the center of the ballroom. Even the musicians ceased playing as they realized what was happening.

  “Kent?” James and his wife, Gillian, were dancing nearby and paused to stare at him. “Is everything all right?”

  Phillip’s face reddened as he looked down at himself and saw how disheveled he looked. He cleared his throat and looked to James. “My apologies for the late arrival and my current condition. The snow was quite difficult.”

  James came to him and offered a hand. “We’re glad you’re here.”

  There was no pity coming from him, just the warmth of an old friend. He moved back to Ella and Graham. Surprise was still plain on her face, and he thought he saw a glimmer of pride in her eyes as though she approved of him coming. He hoped he was right in what he was seeing.

  What do I have left to lose? She already walked away from me once.

  So he did the one thing that no unmarried titled man should ever do.

  He walked up to Ella, and before anyone could think to stop him, he swept her away from Graham and into his arms, kissing her soundly, perhaps too much so given the gasps around them. When their lips finally parted, he didn’t immediately release her. She nuzzled his nose with hers, her eyes dreamy.

  “What did you do that for?” she whispered so only he could hear.

  “I wanted everyone here tonight to know you are mine. I’m here…fighting for you.”

  She hugged him a little tighter before she set a foot of space between them. Phillip then turned to Graham. His dearest friend had his arms crossed, a slight scowl on his lips.

  “You know what this means, Kent,” Graham growled low.

  “That I marry her?” Kent asked, facing his friend, expecting wrath, but he was unafraid. Ella was his now, and he wouldn’t let her down, wouldn’t disappoint her ever again. Because he refused to contemplate one more second where she wasn’t in his life and in his heart.

  “You’re damn right you will. Won’t he, Charles?”

  Charles joined Graham, but he wasn’t scowling. A soft smile was on his lips, a smile that Phillip had seen on Ella’s face a few times in the last few days. A quiet joy that grew slowly inside until one day it was so strong it eclipsed all other emotions, erasing pain, erasing grief, leaving only the purest love the heart and soul could know. Charles understood then what Ella had meant, and he approved.

  “Welcome to the family, Kent,” Charles replied and offered his hand. “You almost died once on my account—now’s your chance to live…with her.”

  “Thank you, Lonsdale. That’s exactly my intention.” Then he looked to Ella. “Would you mind taking a turn with me outside the ballroom?”

  He had to tell her what lay in his heart and apologize for how foolish he had been.

  * * *

  Ella’s heart was galloping, leaving her dizzy as Phillip escorted her outside the ballroom. The man had just walked into the ballroom and kissed her in front of everyone. That couldn’t be undone. And then he’d told her brothers he would marry her. The entire situation still had her head spinning, yet it was exactly what she’d wanted to happen.

  “Ella.” Phillip stopped when they were alone in the corridor. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” she asked.

  “For being blind, for being afraid. For letting you walk away. You were right about me. Pain ruled me. It dictated my life and owned my soul. But these last two days you showed me that it was possible to
let go of all that. I was a coward not to trust you. So here I am—failings and all. Let me love you, let me give you the world, and I promise to be worthy of you and the love you’ve given me.”

  Ella swayed slightly. Drawing in a deep breath—she’d forgotten to breathe—she looked up at her beautiful Earl of Kent and saw in his eyes the future they would have together. Sunny picnics in the gardens, passion at every turn, and someday tiny little hands grasping fingers as they celebrated bringing new lives into the world together. She saw no grief, no pain, only a joy and a hope that mirrored hers so brightly that it blinded her with light.

  “Yes.” She answered the question he hadn’t quite asked. It didn’t matter. What he’d said, that was all she’d ever wanted, every dream she’d had since she was fifteen. She curled her arms around his neck and brushed his lips with hers. “I don’t need the world. I only need you.”

  Phillip’s strong arms held her close, no hesitation in his touch, and she loved that more than she could ever say. To be loved and wanted without another thought, that was all she truly needed.

  “I think you’ve compromised her enough for one night.” The pair of them spun to find Graham standing in the ballroom doorway, his sarcasm tinged with humor.

  “My apologies, Graham. This time it was for tradition’s sake.” He pointed above their heads to the kissing bough that some mischievous person had hung. Ella laughed, only now noticing it.

  Graham rolled his eyes. “So this is what it will mean to have you as a brother-in-law? Kissing my sister at every turn? Christ, I’ll need more than a bottle of brandy to survive family dinners.” He turned to go back inside, but Ella heard him chuckling as he did so.

  “I hope he isn’t truly upset,” Phillip mused.

  “He isn’t. He loves you, Phillip.” She leaned into his embrace, pressing her cheek against his chest.

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. The Aylesford townsfolk asked me to help cut down and bring in their Yule log.”

  Ella dissolved into giggles.

  “What?” he asked, not understanding her humor, but joining her in laughing nonetheless.

  “I was complaining to Audrey earlier about the gentlemen and their Yule logs and…oh, never mind.” She covered his face with adoring kisses.

  For the first time since her father had died, Ella felt whole in body, heart, and soul. She pulled Phillip’s head down for a kiss but couldn’t resist teasing him. “You owe me a game of billiards.”

  “And if I need three lives? What shall I bargain for?” he asked as he cuddled her closer in his arms.

  “I think a few dozen kisses will do.”

  She felt his lips curve in a smile against her own. “How about a lifetime of them?”

  Ella lost herself in his eyes and nodded. “Agreed.” A lifetime of kisses with him was a bargain.

  Phillip kissed her one more time, a lingering breath shared between them before he spoke.

  “I would like to dance with you, here, where I can go slow and practice the steps. It’s been a while since I’ve tried.”

  Ella grinned. “Here is far better. I have my wicked earl all to myself.”

  Phillip set his cane against the wall, and with a few tentative steps, they began to dance.

  Epilogue

  Six months later

  Phillip stood at the edge of the lake near his home, holding his cane in his hands. Graham stood beside him. They didn’t speak for a long time, but rather listened to the wind rustling in the distant trees and the chatting birds. A fox cried out from somewhere in the forest. The summer sun warmed the water, and light sparkled off the lake’s surface.

  “Graham, I wanted to apologize again for that night we quarreled,” Phillip said. “I said things that were untrue and unfair because I was trying to hide my own flaws.” He rolled his cane in his palms, watching the light flash off the silver knob.

  Graham nodded. “I know. But you weren’t entirely false. I am a selfish bastard. Charles kept my family together, raising Ella and protecting our mother after our father died. I was a coward who ran away. I barely saw them. I didn’t want to be around them and feel the hurt of losing my father all over again. It was better to bury myself in brandy and the pursuit of widows. I didn’t even dance with Ella at her debut.”

  Phillip grinned. “I owe you for that. Best night of my life until last Christmas.” Phillip hoped his friend would hear his sincerity.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you,” Graham murmured. “That night in the tunnels. I saw you go down, and then everything just…” Graham’s voice was hoarse. “I ran.”

  “You saved me,” Phillip assured him and touched the other man’s shoulder. “If you hadn’t gotten out, Charles and Lennox would never have found me in time. I would have perished in the tunnels and would be haunting them to this day.”

  Graham chuckled dryly. “Lord, we are a pair, aren’t we?” Another silence settled between them, this one gentler, less strained. “At least you are to be respectable now, what with you marrying my sister.”

  “I was always respectable,” Phillip said.

  “I know that you and Pembroke belong to that Wicked Earls’ Club. You can’t tell me that is an establishment of saints.”

  With a shake of his head, Phillip found himself grinning.

  “No more wicked than Charles and his League of Rogues.”

  “Fair point,” Graham said. “So, what did you bring me out here for?” He gestured to the lake.

  “For this.” Phillip held up the cane. “You told me once that I relied on it too much. You were right. Ella proved that when she came back into my life. I don’t need it anymore.” He wound back his arm and threw the cane into the lake. It sank out of sight.

  “Phillip, that was a waste of a perfectly good cane.” Graham chuckled.

  With a groan, Phillip shot him a glare. “I was trying to make a bloody grand gesture.”

  “It was certainly grand. Wasn’t the head pure silver?”

  “Oh, bollocks. Maybe I should have someone go after it.”

  Graham was now laughing heartily. He slapped Phillip’s back. “We should return. I suspect Ella will be looking for you by now.”

  They returned to the house, Phillip keeping up with Graham without the support of the cane. His limp, which had once caused such pain, was all but gone. For the last five months, he had been visiting a doctor weekly in London who worked his muscles and put him through a thrice weekly regimen of exercises where he strengthened his leg until it once again bore the weight of his body naturally. It had been difficult some days, but Ella had been there with him, rewarding him with kisses and driving him on whenever he wanted to give up. She was a miracle—his miracle. He owed her his life, his body, and most importantly, his heart.

  Graham slapped Phillip’s shoulder and smiled before he wandered off in the direction of the library.

  “Ella?” Phillip called out for his wife from the main hall.

  “Yes?” She came out of the morning room and smiled up at him. She looked radiant in a day dress of green silk, the embodiment of a beautiful summer day. He grasped her waist, holding her close so their foreheads touched.

  “Up for a game of billiards, my love?” He gave her bottom a playful squeeze, and her breath hitched.

  “Only if you agree to do that thing you did last time,” she whispered.

  “The thing where I make love to you on the table?”

  A strawberry blush fell upon her cheeks. “Yes, that thing.” Her fingers played with his cravat, and he smiled wickedly.

  “We most certainly will do that thing.” He threaded his fingers through hers as he led her to the billiard room. Being married to Ella made every day like Christmas, even in the midst of a lovely English summer day.

  Thank you so much for reading The Earl of Kent! I hope you’ll check out my book The Last Wicked Rogue where you’ll discover the scandalous story of Lily, a woman who falls in love with Charles (Ella’s older brother) wh
ile pretending to be his valet! START READING CHARLES’S BOOK HERE!

  For the next Wicked Earls’ Club Story The Earl of Kinross by Meara Platt turn the page for an exclusive first chapter preview or buy the book here!

  Marcus Brayden, Earl of Kinross, never expects his Christmas gift to tumble at his feet, but it does in the shapely form of Lady Lara Le Brecque, his best friend's sister…

  The Earl of Kinross

  By Meara Platt

  CHAPTER 1

  London, England

  December 1814

  “Mother in heaven,” Lara Le Brecque muttered, toppling over the high wall surrounding Marcus Brayden’s townhouse and landing in an enormous snowdrift. It was shortly past dawn, although one would not know it by the gray clouds covering the sky that prevented most of the daylight from filtering down. She scrambled to her feet, her cloak and gown now dampened by the wet snow she’d fallen into, and hurried to hide behind one of the large holly trees planted near the townhouse.

  Breaking into houses was not as easy as she’d first thought.

  She was cold, wet, and winded, and hadn’t thought to eat a bite before setting out on her clandestine mission. But she’d made it this far and was not about to turn back now. She tiptoed along the brick facade in search of an unlocked door or window through which she could crawl. Finding none, she began to climb up a frail lattice to the upper floor when two hands clamped on her waist and she was suddenly yanked down. “Ack!”

  A big hand covered her mouth as she was hauled against what felt like a stone wall.

  Oh, heavens!

  Not a wall, but the muscled torso of a man who wore no shirt. “Let go of me,” she mumbled against his hand, “or I shall report you to the authorities!”

  Of course, what the big oaf who now held her captive must have heard was a muffled “Mumph, harrumh, mumph, mumph.”

  “Be quiet. You’re coming with me.”

  She started swinging her fists, desperate to escape his clutches, but he was too agile for her and she hit nothing but air. Drat! He now had her pinned against his damp chest. Goodness, his skin felt warm against her cheek, and if she weren’t so angry, she might have considered his clean, musk scent captivating.