Twilight with the Infamous Earl

by Alexandra Hawkins

  “Seeking compliments?” he asked, his voice stroking her like silk. “Come closer, and I shall whisper them in your ear.”

  “No, thank you,” she said crisply, using the ice in her voice to conceal her delicate shudder at the thought of his mouth and breath so close to her ear.

  “We’ll save that for another time.” He sighed. “So you lost your sister. You have my sympathies. Though, if you want my opinion, your sister was a selfish chit for hurting the very people who obviously cherished her.”

  Emily sucked in her breath. Over the years, as she had watched her mother and father grieve the loss of their daughter, the same traitorous thought about her sister’s selfishness had crept into her head. “You, of all people, have no right to mock my grief or my sister’s death.”

  “My darling girl, I am not mocking anyone,” he countered, sounding slightly peeved. He explained, “Life is to be celebrated and treasured, and while your loss is tragic, it is even more so since your sister’s foolishness is contagious.”

  Emily gaped at him in astonishment. “Contagious? Were you not listening? My sister did not die of a disease.”

  It was her spirit that had wasted away.

  He flashed an impatient glance in her direction. “I am referring to this nonsense of you challenging criminals and club owners because you do not approve of how they go about their business.”

  “I haven’t done anything,” she protested. If he persisted in beleaguering her about his beloved Nox, she might be tempted to do something that would truly upset him.

  “Nothing too troubling,” he amended in a futile attempt to calm her down. “Yet. But you cannot dismiss that you have sown a few seeds of dissent within certain circles.”

  “Good heavens, you are behaving as if I wield influence over these ladies. Though it is no business of yours, I only participated in several conversations on the rising crime in London. All I am guilty of is offering my opinion.”

  As they drew nearer to the entrance of the park, Emily noted that the number of carriages and pedestrians had increased. She had been so distracted by her argument with Frost that she had not noticed they were no longer alone.

  It was then that she observed a gentleman on horseback approaching from the opposite direction. She brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the sunlight. Emily had been in such a rush to whisk the earl out of the house that she had forgotten to bring her parasol. The blond-haired gentleman was impeccably dressed, and his looks were passable. She might have given him only a passing glance if she did not recognize him.

  “Miss Cavell,” he said politely, touching the brim of his hat out of respect as his gaze shifted to Lord Chillingsworth. “Always a pleasure to see you again. London life suits you.”

  The man did not alter his casual pace, nor did her companion slow down the phaeton.

  “Why, thank you”—oh, bother, what was the man’s name?—“uh, Mr. Hal—”

  “Halward,” Frost said though clenched teeth.

  The earl did not acknowledge the man in any other way. If there was history between the two, neither intended to mention it in her presence.

  His horse and their carriage passed by each other, and Emily had to look over her shoulder to see the man’s reaction. She caught a glimpse of the slight smirk on Mr. Halward’s face before he turned away and continued down the road.

  Frost literally vibrated with suppressed fury. “You have chosen a very perilous path, Miss Cavell. One that I order you to reconsider,” he said grimly.

  Emily did not understand why he was so upset with her. Nevertheless, she did not appreciate his bossy tone. “You are not in a position to order me about, Lord Chillingsworth!”

  His thunderous expression had her shrinking away from him. “Press me, and you will find out what I am capable of doing when I am provoked.”

  Emily wisely decided not to say another word until they reached Lord and Lady Pashley’s residence.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Regan hurried from the garden terrace cuddling her tired son when she heard her brother’s voice from within the house. “Frost has arrived with Miss Cavell,” she announced, turning away from the open doors and approaching her husband, Vane, and Sin, who had been quietly debating politics around a nearby table.

  “Are you planning to scold him for being late?” Dare asked.

  Regan rolled her eyes. “There isn’t much point. He is always late.”

  Often she wondered if he was putting up with the lot of them. If she pressed him too hard, she feared that he would stop coming at all.

  “Well, he might have a good reason,” Sin said distractedly as he watched his gleeful wife give Reign’s croquet ball a good wallop and sent it rolling across the lawn. Saint, Hunter, Grace, and Sophia applauded. Reign, noticing his friend’s regard, gestured for him to do something about Juliana.

  Unsympathetic, Sin shrugged. Reign was probably losing. Again.

  “I hope so,” Dare replied, sounding amused. “It was the reason why I asked Regan to give him the task.”

  Understanding lit Vane’s gaze. “So she is beautiful?”

  “Stunning.” Dare said, giving his wife a sheepish grin when she frowned at him. “And a redhead. Though from the look of things the other night at the Fiddicks’ ball, Frost is already captivated by the lady.”

  Regan’s frown deepened at the news. “Emily is a friend. I will not have Frost seducing her just because he has a fondness for redheads. I expect all of you to make certain he behaves himself.”

  She did not bother to wait for a reply from her husband and their friends. All of them loved her brother as much as she did. Rubbing her son’s back, she tilted her head and noted that he was almost asleep. She slowly moved toward the open door.

  They had a full house this afternoon. Juliana and Reign were playing a boisterous game of croquet, while Catherine, Isabel, and Dare’s fifteen-year-old niece were walking the garden paths.

  It was not until she stepped into the library that she heard the angry voices downstairs. Who the devil was Frost shouting at? Her housekeeper appeared in the doorway, and she looked as worried as Regan.

  “Madam, we have a small problem,” the older woman began.

  “I will take care of it,” Regan assured her. “Could you take Bishop upstairs? He just fell asleep.”

  She handed her son to the housekeeper. Thank you, she mouthed, and headed toward the stairs to see what all the commotion was all about.

  * * *

  “Come with me.”

  A soft gasp escaped Emily’s lips when Frost took her hand and led her upstairs instead of following the housekeeper to one of the doors that would have taken them outdoors.

  “Where are we going?” she said, slightly breathless as she was forced to keep up with his long stride. “Your sister is outdoors with—”

  “My sister will wait. You and I have a few things to discuss, and I prefer to keep our chat private.”

  “Is this about Nox?” she asked, trying to understand what was driving his temper. “I told you everything that—”

  “Forget about Nox for a moment,” he snapped, striding by what she deduced was the Pashleys’ drawing room.

  Likely a frequent guest in his sister’s residence, he navigated the maze of passageways as if it were his own. He halted in front of a closed door, opened it, and peeked inside. Satisfied that it was empty, he stepped in. “Come.” With his hand firmly entwined with his, she followed.

  It was a small anteroom that with a narrow arched window at the end. Four heavy benches covered with dark blue and gold silk were positioned along the wall. Above, Etruscan vases of various sizes were on display.

  “No one should bother us,” he offered as an explanation on why he had selected this particular room.

  “Fine,” Emily said with a delicate toss of her head. Free to roam the narrow confines of the room, she walked over to one of the cushioned benches and sat down. “Ask your questions.”

  “Halward,”
he said succinctly. “How are you acquainted with the man?”

  “Why?”

  “Indulge me,” he said, taking the seat opposite her.

  She saw no reason not to humor him. “I have met him twice. The first time was in the drawing room of a Mr. Reid. He is an acquaintance of my father.”

  “And the second time?” he impatiently prompted.

  “At the Leicester Square Rotunda. My mother wished to view the panorama. Why?” she asked, puzzled by his anger and concern.

  He braced his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Do not be fooled by his civility, Emily. Halward is no gentleman.”

  Her eyes glittered with amusement. “The same might be said about you, Lord Chillingsworth.”

  “Pay attention,” he snapped, his face darkening with anger. “The man has the means to mingle with the fringes of polite society, but he is not one of us. His connections extend to the lowest criminals London has to offer. I am astounded your father would place his daughter in the presence of such a man.”

  Emily barely knew the man, so she could not defend against Frost’s accusations. “It was not my father’s fault that Mr. Halward happened to be attending the same function—or that later, we saw him again at the rotunda. Mere coincidences. Besides, the man said nothing untoward to me or my family. If anyone has been arrogant, rude, and overstepped his bounds, it is you.”

  She rose from the bench.

  “If that is all, I would like to greet my host and hostess.”

  Frost also stood, his turquoise-blue eyes lingering on her face. “Not quite. I want you to promise me that you will stay away from Halward.”

  “Another order, my lord?” she said softly. “Your threats and orders are getting tiresome.”

  He grinned down at her, reminding her of a hungry wolf. “Defy me, and I promise—”

  “What?” she interrupted, not really intimidated by him. “You have no power over me.”

  Emily turned away, intending to join the other guests outdoors, but the earl had other plans. This time she was prepared for his kiss. Her mouth parted as his slanted over it. Frost tugged her closer until her bodice pressed against his chest. She daringly rested her hands against the front of his frock coat, and felt the solid muscle of his chest. His body was as firm as his high-handed dictates, she thought, as his tongue teased hers.

  Emily was taken aback by her own body’s responses. Her nipples had tightened, and she longed to rub away the sensation. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, and a rousing heat coursed through her body. Impulsively she leaned against him, savoring the feel of him. Frost had placed one hand on her arm and the other on her hip as he worked his magic with his talented mouth. He was silently demanding something from her, and a part of her was willing to grant him anything.

  The realization was the splash of cold water that she desperately required. While Frost railed at her about the dangers surrounding her, he might prove the biggest one of all.

  Emily pushed him away, ignoring the regret she felt and cursing her weakness.

  “You are very persuasive, Lord Chillingsworth,” she said, unable to keep her voice level. He unsettled her in so many ways. “However, I believe we are finished with today’s lesson.”

  Emily walked out of the room and was startled to find Regan waiting for her in the passageway. Was she aware of her indiscreet activities with Frost? Of course she was. All she had to do was take one look at her flushed features and reddened lips. She braced herself for questions. However, Regan was a better friend than that.

  “I have a room where you may fix your hair and compose yourself,” her friend said, her gaze flickering to the empty doorway as if she expected her brother to appear. “When you are ready, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the family.”

  Emily nodded, wondering how long she could avoid facing Frost again.

  * * *

  “Why is Regan vexed with you?” Dare asked several hours later when he managed to catch Frost alone.

  “Is she vexed?” was his innocent reply. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “There has to be some reason she has been glaring at you all afternoon,” his brother-in-law said, unperturbed that his wife had been barely civil to her brother.

  “Another hint was the smack on the back of your head she delivered when she walked by you,” Hunter added, overhearing Dare’s comment. “I haven’t seen Regan this angry since the day you suggested that my plan to whisk Grace to Gretna Green would go smoother if I poured laudanum into her wine.”

  Aye, it had taken his sister a few weeks to recover from Hunter and Grace’s elopement. They had succeeded in the getting the couple married, but she had not approved of the duke’s high-handed scheme.

  “If I recall, Regan was angry with you, not me,” Frost argued. “You had made a mess of things with your bride-to-be. I was just being helpful.”

  His friends exchanged glances. They had both been on the receiving end of Frost’s help, and learned there was always a price.

  “Just be grateful that Grace eventually forgave me,” Hunter muttered as his gaze sought out his duchess.

  Frost observed that Grace was engaged in what appeared to be a serious conversation with Reign and Sophia’s daughter, Lily Grace, who was inordinately pleased to share a name with the Duchess of Huntsley. No one pointed out that she had been named years before Hunter had claimed his bride, and Grace was delighted by the young girl’s adoration.

  “Your duchess gave you your heir,” Frost said. “When are you planning to give her a daughter?”

  Hunter looked incredulous. “Our son is two months old, Frost. Necessity might have forced me to rush her into marriage and to produce an heir,” he went on, his eyes clouding with guilt. “However, I can afford to be patient.”

  Frost nodded at the giggling child who was preening with Grace’s bonnet on her head. “Look at them. Your duchess doesn’t seem to mind her fate, gent.”

  If Hunter had a whit of sense, he would steal his wife away from the gathering and start working on the daughter that she obviously longed for.

  “Hunter may be easy to distract, but I’m not,” Dare interjected. “What is going on between you and Emily Cavell?”

  “Nothing.”

  At least not at the moment.

  Dare’s eyes widened in growing wonder. “It’s worse than I thought.”

  Frost did not have to feign his bewilderment. “How so?”

  Hunter slowly nodded. “You’re correct, Dare. How long has this been going on?”

  Both gentlemen were daft. “I have no idea what you are babbling about.”

  “Hmm … defensive,” Hunter noted. “And he’s clearly lying. Another sign.”

  Frost privately conceded that he might deserve their teasing—he had enjoyed tormenting them as they struggled to win their ladies’ hearts. Even so, his generosity was not infinite.

  “I picked up Miss Cavell from her residence at Regan’s request,” he said tersely. “Everything else is solely conjecture on your part.”

  “Regan and I caught them kissing at the Fiddicks’ ball,” Dare tattled. “He also chased off some young rakehells that were bothering the lady.”

  “Amorous and protective,” Hunter said, speaking in a serious tone suggesting that Frost’s actions held some hidden meaning. “Have you declared your intentions to Miss Cavell’s family?”

  Something close to panic churned in his gut. “What? Are you both mad? I have no desire to marry Emily Cavell or any lady. Sin had mentioned Miss Cavell’s hatred for Nox, and I thought it best to keep an eye on her.”

  Dare rubbed at his nose. “Need I remind you that your interest in the lady was evident?” He deliberately glanced down at the front of Frost’s trousers.

  Hunter laughed. “How did I miss this?”

  “You haven’t missed anything.” So what if kissing Emily Cavell had hardened his cock? He was a man in his prime. He would have had the same reaction with any woman. “I was restless and sought
to amuse myself with the lady.”

  “Which is precisely why Regan is furious with you,” Dare said, speaking to him as if he were thick-witted. “Nox has been denounced in the past by the ton, and our doors remained open. I would not trouble yourself with one lady’s disapproval. Miss Cavell is harmless.”

  Frost disagreed. Emily was breaking down his control and peace of mind. Earlier, when he had been kissing her in the anteroom, and had wondered how far he could have pushed her, he had longed to tug on her bodice until he gained access to her breasts. Would she have cradled his head, allowing him to cup those generous mounds and suck her nipples? Would she have protested if his hand had slipped under her skirt or would she have squirmed against his fingers, begging to be touched? If he had not heard Regan’s approach, he might have sated his curiosity.

  It was out of character for him not to share the details of affairs. However, Emily’s friendship with Regan complicated matters for him. He had to tread carefully, or even his friends would dissuade him from his course.

  “Halward has taken an interest in Miss Cavell,” Frost exaggerated, though he sensed he was not straying too far from the truth. Nor did he believe it was a coincidence that Emily had encountered the man twice. “The man has not made any secret that he would like to take control of Nox, and I suspect he is not above using the lady to help in this endeavor. It serves our purposes to offer her protection, even if she is unaware of it.”

  It served his interests as well.

  Emily was wary of him. With Regan’s assistance, she had managed to avoid him, but he was content to let her sulk. He planned to end this nonsense when he offered to escort the lady back to her family. His sister might huff and protest, but she would not stand in his way. After all, she had been the one to ask him to collect her friend.

  Neither he nor Emily was comfortable with the notion that they were attracted to each other. Frost was not troubled by lust. It was healthy, and expressing it was pleasurable while it lasted. Having Emily Cavell in his bed was something he craved as strongly as food. However, unlike his past lovers, the lady would expect and deserve more from him. Unfortunately, he knew he was incapable of satisfying her heart as thoroughly as her body.