Beauty and the Earl

by Patricia Grasso

  “I know Lord Naughty is a bad boy,” Caroline told him. “Oh dear, we’ll need more cakes. Excuse me while I go outside to get them.”

  “Hurry back, Caro.” Miles lost his smile as soon as his daughter stepped outside. “If you don’t mind, I would like to be alone with my daughter.”

  Amber ached at his words. She had always been left out as a child, which made his statement hurt more than it should.

  “I did not intend to intrude.” Amber stood to leave.

  “Princess, where are you going,” Caroline asked, walking into the playhouse. “I brought you cake.”

  “I need to visit the water closet.”

  The girl looked surprised. “Princesses do that?”

  “Everyone does that.”

  Caroline looked at her father. “Even the king?”

  “The king visits the water closet, too,” Miles verified.

  Amber left the playhouse and strolled across the lawn in the direction of the mansion. She understood the earl wanted private time with his daughter, but that did not lessen the hurt of his rejection.

  “Princess.”

  Amber stopped walking and turned around. The earl waved at her to come back. Instead of returning to the playhouse, she resumed walking toward the mansion.

  “Wait a minute,” Miles called, jogging across the lawn. “Please come back. I didn’t mean what I said.”

  Amber looked him straight in the eye. “You are feeling guilty because you think you hurt my feelings.”

  “Didn’t I?”

  “No, why should I—?”

  “Your Highness, you are the most incompetent liar I have ever met,” Miles interrupted. “Forgive my unkindness. I couldn’t help thinking that Brenna should have been sitting there, and my pain incited me to lash out at you.”

  “I understand.” She touched his hand. “You do need time with your daughter, though. I will see you inside.”

  Without another word, Amber walked back to the mansion. She could feel the earl’s gaze on her but refused to look over her shoulder. She needed the earl to want her for herself. Guilt or pity or desire to possess her beauty was unacceptable.

  Two hours later, after their luncheon, Amber sat between the five-year-old cousins, Caroline and Giselle, on the settee in the drawing room. Both girls wanted to cling to her simply because she was a real princess.

  “I heard some wonderful music earlier,” the duke remarked, looking at his daughters. “Either you are improving or your mother was giving a command performance.”

  “Princess Amber and Mother played a duet,” Lily told him.

  The duchess looked at each of her daughters in turn. “Princess Amber plays two instruments, the piano and the mandolin. I am certain each of you is capable of mastering one.”

  “Princess, do you know any stories?” Caroline asked, clutching her arm.

  Amber glanced at the earl, who sat nearby in a high-backed chair. “I know many stories.”

  “Will you tell us one?’

  “Bedtime is better for stories,” Amber hedged.

  Sitting on her left, Giselle touched her arm. “You won’t be here at bedtime.”

  “Tell us a story about a princess,” Miles said, and winked at her.

  The two little girls clapped their hands.

  “Once upon a time there lived an unhappy, orphaned princess,” Amber began her story. “That means her mummy and her daddy had died.”

  “The king and the queen?”

  Amber nodded at Caroline. “The poor little princess went to live with her uncle, Lord Dragon.”

  “Her uncle was a dragon?”

  Amber turned to Giselle. “I am afraid so.”

  “What happened to this princess?” Miles asked.

  “The princess ran away,” Amber said. “She came to a dark forest where monsters lived. A ferocious dog leaped out at her from behind a tree. He barked and growled and snapped at her, but the princess refused to budge. She was more afraid of her uncle than anything else.

  “The dog walked toward her, growling low in his throat, and the princess noticed the dog’s limp. Cautiously, she lifted its paw, saw a thorn, and yanked it out. From that day—”

  “What was the dog’s name?” Caroline interrupted.

  Amber thought a moment. “Prince.”

  “Does Prince bite?” Giselle asked.

  “Prince wanted the princess to believe he would bite,” Amber said. “Prince did not want anyone to get too close to him.”

  “Why?” Caroline asked.

  “Prince had lost his previous owner,” Amber answered, “and he did not want to feel bad again. From that day, Prince protected his princess.

  “Then one day the princess hugged Prince and pressed a kiss on his muzzle. When she did that—”

  “Did Prince drool?” Caroline asked.

  Amber laughed. “Prince drooled globs and globs.”

  “Yuck, yuck, yuck,” Caroline and Giselle exclaimed at the same time.

  “When the princess kissed him,” Amber continued, “Prince turned into a handsome prince, and they lived happily ever after.”

  Miles cocked a dark brow at her. “Is that Daniel and the lion or the princess and the frog?”

  “Daddy, why don’t you tell me a story?” Caroline asked.

  “Only women tell stories,” he answered.

  “What do men do?”

  “Gentlemen work hard to make money to purchase gowns and furs and jewels for their ladies.”

  Caroline clapped her hands and turned to Amber. “Boy, are we ever lucky to be girls, aren’t we?”

  Amber smiled. She could not remember the last time she had this much fun.

  “Lady Caroline told us gossip,” Amber said, turning to Giselle. “Lady Begood let Lord Naughty get familiar with her.”

  “I know something,” Giselle said.

  “Tell us, please.”

  My mummy and you have the same blue eyes.”

  “Let me see,” Caroline said, moving closer. “Does every princess and duchess have blue eyes?”

  “Mostly blondes get the blue eyes,” Amber answered.

  “I got brown eyes,” Giselle said, bringing Amber’s attention back to her.

  “Your brown eyes are beautiful.”

  Giselle smiled. “I know.”

  “Whenever someone says you are pretty,” Amber told her, “you must say ‘Thank you for noticing’.”

  “I got brown eyes, too.”

  Amber turned to Caroline. “You have beautiful brown eyes.”

  “Thank you for noticing.”

  Miles chuckled. “You are very popular, Princess.”

  “Thank you for noticing, my lord.”

  Later, Miles and Amber stood in the foyer and waited for their carriage to be brought around. Caroline clung to her father as if she would never let him go.

  “Don’t leave me, Daddy,” Caroline whined, her eyes filling with tears.

  Miles lifted her into his arms and kissed her. “I will visit again soon. Give the princess a kiss.”

  Caroline leaned close and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I wish you were my mummy.”

  Amber blushed and returned the girl’s kiss. “I wish you were my little girl. You and Giselle must think of a story to tell me next time I visit.”

  “Little girls don’t tell stories.”

  “What do they do?”

  “Little girls listen.”

  Miles smiled at Amber. “Big girls would do well to adopt the good habit of listening, too.”

  Chapter 6

  “Did I pass the test?” Amber asked, giving the earl a sidelong glance.

  Miles cocked a dark brow at her. “What test?”

  Amber knew that he knew to what she referred. Stalling for time to find the best words, she glanced out the coach’s window as it wended its way down Avon Park’s stately drive.

  The sun had already set in the western sky. Its blazing red departure cooled into twilight’s mauve and purple streaks. />
  “Why did you not tell me about your daughter?” Amber asked, fixing her gaze on his.

  Now Miles looked away. “I didn’t feel the need. Unlike others, I don’t reveal my life story to anyone willing to listen.”

  “Are you referring to me?”

  Instead of answering, Miles stretched his long legs out and rested his arm on the back of the black leather seat behind her. “Tell me the reason you need a husband.”

  “I do not feel the need to reveal that part of my life story.”

  The hint of a smile touched his lips. “I had begun to wonder if you were a royal doormat.”

  “You will not speak disrespectfully to me,” Amber said, sounding every inch the royal.

  “You seem amenable to whatever I say,” Miles remarked, his lazy smile infuriating her.

  “Do not confuse civility with a reluctance to argue.” Amber turned away from him. “A doormat would have remained in Moscow, not disguised herself as a widow and traipsed across Europe to take refuge with her cousin.”

  Silence reigned for the remainder of the ride to Arden Hall. Amber realized he had evaded answering her question. She knew his relationship with his daughter was none of her business but doubted the earl realized how much he was hurting the little girl. A father should be a constant in his child’s life, not a visitor. If the earl could feel what she had experienced as a child, he would understand the needless pain he was inflicting on his own daughter.

  When the coach halted in Arden Hall’s front courtyard, Amber summoned her courage. “Caroline needs to live with you.”

  Miles looked at her. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Why have you banished your only child to live with relatives?”

  “I want Caroline to live in a normal household.”

  “Living with relatives is abnormal,” Amber said. “Caroline needs her father.”

  Miles opened the coach door, climbed out, and helped her down without speaking. “My daughter is none of your business,” he said, his voice low, for her ears only. Turning his back on her, he walked toward the mansion, where Pebbles held the door open.

  “Leaving Caroline there is hurting her,” Amber argued, her tone almost pleading.

  Miles stopped short and rounded on her. “Do you see yourself in my daughter?” he asked, heedless of the listening majordomo. “I assure you, Brenna was no adulteress, and Caroline is legitimate issue.”

  Amber stepped back as if she’d been struck, her complexion paling to a stark white. In an instant, her royal pride surfaced and forced her to retaliate.

  “You miserable son of a bitch,” Amber said in a scathing voice, surprising the earl and the majordomo. “Like a hog in swill, you wallow in your own misery and want everyone else to wallow in misery, too. Facing an uncertain, possibly unkind future takes courage—which you, my lord, are lacking.”

  Lifting her nose into the air, Amber brushed past him and started to climb the stairs. She paused when she heard the earl speak.

  “Are you running away again, Your Highness? That scarcely speaks of courage.”

  “I refuse to listen to your insults.” Amber started up the stairs again. She knew he walked behind her but refused to acknowledge his presence.

  “I’m sorry.” Miles reached for her hand before she disappeared inside her bedchamber. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

  Amber rounded on him. “You should think before speaking, my lord, or your voice will grow hoarse with all your apologies.”

  “My sister took Caroline while I recovered from my burns,” Miles told her. “I thought leaving her with her cousins was for the best.”

  “You owe me no explanation.”

  “I want to explain. I love my daughter and want what is best for her, but I am unused to anyone’s critical comments about raising my daughter. I did what I felt was right at the time.”

  Amber softened her gaze on him. “Household circumstances do not matter to Caroline. Your daughter loves you, even with your face scarred and your spirits low.” She placed the palm of her hand against his masked cheek. “What lies in your heart defines your worth. You are more than a man hiding his scars beneath a mask. So much more.”

  Miles touched the hand she had placed on his scarred cheek. “Thank you for your concern for Caroline and me.”

  “Will you visit my chamber tonight?” Amber asked in invitation, responding to the yearning couched in his gaze.

  The earl hesitated and then shuttered his expression. “Another time, perhaps.”

  Amber inclined her head and walked into her bedchamber. The day had been tiring, both physically and emotionally. She wanted to climb into bed and lose her troubles in sleep.

  She crossed the chamber and opened the window. Instantly, the wishing bell moved in the evening’s breeze, and the delicate tinkling, like the laughter of fairies, echoed in the room.

  Miles Montgomery confused her. One moment he behaved amiably, even lovingly, but the next moment he snapped at her like Prince the dog. Did that mean he was confused about his feelings for her?

  Why did the earl refuse her invitation? She had agreed to his outrageous demand. How could she conceive a child if they never actually . . . ? All would be lost if Fedor found her before the earl and she wed.

  Amber paced her chamber and tried to think of how she could hasten the earl’s courtship. Apparently, she needed to seduce him but had no idea how to do that.

  Following her instincts, Amber changed into a sheerer-than-gossamer nightgown. She padded on bare feet across the chamber to the connecting door and knocked before she lost her nerve.

  Miles opened the door. He still wore his mask but had changed into a black silk bedrobe.

  Amber watched him slide his gaze from her face to her body. An expression of hunger appeared on his face. The earl seemed mesmerized by the gossamer silk covering her nakedness, playing a teasing game of peek-a-boo with his gaze.

  “May I come inside?”

  “Why?’ He sounded suspicious.

  “I would like to visit you before retiring.”

  Miles cocked a dark brow at her. “Why?”

  I want to seduce you. “I cannot get—” Her complexion flamed with her embarrassment. “I cannot become pregnant if—We made a bargain, did we not?”

  “I’m giving you a chance to change your mind.”

  Amber looked him straight in the eye. “I will not change my mind.”

  “Then perhaps I will. Go to bed, Princess.”

  “What is wrong with me?” she cried in frustration.

  “You aren’t Brenna,” he answered, anguish choking his voice.

  With pain etched across her face, Amber stared at him for a long moment. All was lost. She could never be another woman, nor could she compete with the memory of his cherished wife. She reached to close the door.

  Miles regretted the hurt he had put on her sweet expression. “Give me time, Princess.”

  “I do not have time to give you.”

  His gaze narrowed on her. “What do you mean?”

  “The answer to that question is meant only for my husband.” She closed the connecting door.

  Miles stared at the door. Besides his daughter, the princess was the only person who had touched his mask, indirectly touching his scars, directly touching his heart. Why was he shutting her out?

  Virgins were notoriously skittish about their first experience with a man. Why was she rushing him into bed? What was she hiding? Why didn’t she have time to wait until he was ready? Why, for God’s sake, wasn’t he ready?

  Miles knew his wife’s memory was not his only problem. He feared the princess’s reaction when she saw his scars. Not only was his face burned but also the whole left side of his body—arm, trunk, leg. He could not bear seeing horrified rejection on her face, one reason he had hidden inside Arden Hall for years.

  Sitting in the chair near the hearth, Miles waited until he judged she’d had enough time to fall asleep. He rose wearily, crossed to the connecting doo
r, and listened to the silence. Entering her chamber, he approached the bed and stared at the sleeping princess. She was everything a man could want in a wife. He needed to set aside his fear and make her his own. Delay could mean losing his only chance to resume living.

  Miles snuffed the night candle and returned to his own chamber. He left the door ajar and his mask on the bedside table lest she need him during the night.

  * * *

  Windswept rain changed day into twilight. Accompanying the rhythmic drumming on the windows, the soprano notes of a mandolin wafted through the air into the library. Princess Amber had changed the earl’s life in only a few short days. He had felt sunshine warming his face. He had appeared in public. He had laughed out loud.

  Long dead desire had sprung to new life like the mythical phoenix. Her angel’s face, her silver-blond hair, and her tempting breasts had conspired to persuade him to live again.

  For some unknown reason, Princess Amber accepted him in spite of his scars while disdaining her own exquisite beauty. She loved children, as evidenced by her enjoyment of his daughter’s company. Most importantly, the princess needed him as much as he needed her.

  Life came without guarantees. The Lord had gifted each soul with instincts, not instructions. Move now or forever lose your chance, his instincts whispered.

  And Miles listened.

  Leaving the library, he followed the sound of the mandolin. He paused in the drawing room’s entrance to admire an angel creating a heavenly melody.

  Amber stopped playing, as if she felt watched. She looked around and, in spite of his harshness the previous evening, gave him her sunshine smile. “Good evening, my lord.”

  Miles crossed the drawing room slowly in order to give himself time to summon the proper words. Standing in front of her, he stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and searched his mind for an opening statement. Good God, he hadn’t felt this nervous with a woman since his university days.

  “I missed you at lunch,” the princess said, her tone coolly polite.

  “I am swamped with yesterday’s and today’s paperwork,” Miles said.

  “I see.” Amber dropped her gaze to her lap.

  She looked uncomfortable. Had he unknowingly lost his chance last night? He needed to do something. After his rejection of her the previous evening, the princess would not make the first move again.