by Amelia Grey
“Then do invite him to join us, Adeline,” Brina encouraged. “I thought him a handsome man the last time I saw him. Now that I know how rude he’s been to you, I want to see if he now looks like a monster since he’s been acting like one.”
Adeline could say without equivocating that the earl did not look like a monster.
There was nothing to do but acquiesce to her friends. Besides, if he wanted to discuss the school, it was best Julia and Brina be available to have their say. “All right.” Doing her best to calm the knot of trepidation in her stomach, Adeline turned to Mrs. Lawton. “Ask them to come in.”
All three ladies rose and looked toward the entrance.
A short, small-boned, older lady with an inquisitive smile came through the doorway first. The earl entered and stopped beside her. Lyon’s gaze immediately met Adeline’s. Suddenly it was as if every one of her senses spoke to her at once. Let me touch him. Let me taste him. Let me smell him. Let me hear him. Let me see him.
He bowed. “Lady Wake, you should have told me you had guests.”
Julia moved to stand just ahead of Adeline and to her right. Brina did the same on Adeline’s left, leaving the earl no doubt that no matter the reason he came over, they stood protective of Adeline. Which also meant that he would know she told them about their first meeting. So be it. She appreciated her friends’ support more than they would ever know. But with this man—she had to stand alone.
“My lord,” Adeline answered with a curtsy and then left the safety of her friends and walked around the settee toward him. “It wasn’t necessary. They asked that you join us. I believe you know Lady Kitson Fairbright and Mrs. Brina Feld, but I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the lady with you.”
“Lady Wake, may I present my aunt, Mrs. Cordelia Carbonall.”
Julia and Brina joined them, and proper greetings and brief pleasantries were exchanged by everyone. Adeline found it difficult not to keep glancing at the large, beribboned basket gripped in Lyon’s masculine hand. He must have noticed her inquisitive expression for he placed it on a chair.
“I brought fruit tarts for the girls,” he said.
Adeline felt as if she had a hundred butterflies in her chest and all their wings started fluttering at one time. She was wrong. He had come to apologize for his outrageous behavior that morning. And in the nicest of ways. Bringing the girls something sweet to enjoy. She would have never thought it possible of him. “Thank you, my lord. That’s very kind of you. The girls will be very appreciative of the treats.”
“They are from Mrs. Feversham across the street. I’m not sure if you’re aware of her condition, but she’s unable to walk. She asked if I’d deliver them to you.”
Oh, what a beast!
Just as her heart was melting over his compassion, he showed his true self once again. Adeline should have known something as enjoyable as tarts for the girls couldn’t have come from the earl. What had made her even consider the thoughtfulness was his idea. He was a brute of the first order and that wasn’t likely to change. It was a shame such a handsome face and powerfully fit body had been wasted on him.
“I wasn’t aware of that,” she said tightly, and forcing herself not to stiffen so he wouldn’t know the frustration he caused her. “I’ll be sure to send her a note.”
“On the other hand,” Mrs. Carbonall said, stepping forward and placing a much smaller basket on the chair, “the biscuits and marmalade in here are from my kitchen to you. Welcome to the neighborhood, my lady.”
“I thank you as well,” Adeline managed with a genuine smile. “Please sit down and join us for tea.”
“We wouldn’t think of intruding, my lady,” Mrs. Carbonall said. “But before we go, I want you to know I think what you three have done in establishing a boarding school for those poor girls in light of what happened to their families is most admirable.”
The lady’s sincerity touched Adeline warmly. “Thank you for letting us know.”
“Before you go, Mrs. Carbonall,” Julia asked, walking over to her, “do you mind if I ask if you have knowledge of the condition of Mrs. Joan Hawtry’s son? I only returned to Town a few days ago and I haven’t heard. I know he was ill when I left late last autumn.”
“I remember that as well,” Brina said, joining them. “And I haven’t heard any news about him either.”
“Yes, of course, I’ll be happy to tell you what I know about his ailment. He’s been quite sick for some time, but now I can say he’s better, though still unable to get out of the house.”
The three ladies started talking, which left Adeline to stand in the entrance way to the drawing room with Lyon. She had no doubt that Julia had a sincere interest in Mrs. Hawtry’s son, but her perceptive friend had also obviously felt the undercurrents of tension between Adeline and Lyon and wanted to give them some time alone—whether or not Adeline wanted it.
“Why didn’t you tell me this school was for daughters and sisters of workers who perished on the ship with your husband?” Lyon asked.
A shiver stole over Adeline. It was an inexplicable feeling, but she didn’t want to think about her husband when Lyon was near. “I don’t want to talk about that time, about what happened. It’s past and what I am doing now is for the future. That’s where my focus is now.”
He was silent for a few moments, and she thought he was going to change the subject, but instead, he said, “That I understand and I’m accepting of it, but I’m talking about the girls and the school. Not your personal sufferings. I understand your need for privacy on that.”
There was tenderness and concern in his voice. She wanted to respond to it but was afraid it would reveal too much of what she felt when he was near so she kept silent.
“You never mentioned that it was a charitable endeavor this morning or the tragic loss they’d endured.”
“Was that my fault or yours, my lord?” she asked with a hint of humor in her voice.
“Mine,” he replied without hesitation.
“Yes.” She took in a deep breath, feeling a little shot of victory at hearing his admission. “It was. Would it have kept you from storming over to complain if you’d known the girls’ situation?”
He seemed to study on that for a moment. “I’d like to think so, but the truth is I don’t know. I have no patience for things that aren’t orderly.”
“I’ve discovered that. Thank you for being honest.”
“Here’s more truth for you,” he said, moving so that his wide shoulders were blocking the other women from Adeline’s view. “I believe your courage in doing this is extraordinary. I wish I’d known their circumstances. I might have acted differently. A difficult neighbor wasn’t something they needed.”
“No, they didn’t,” she agreed, feeling surprisingly moved by his tone. “They are fine now. And, tempted though I am, I’m not going to stand here and list all the things you have said to me in the last few days that you shouldn’t have said.”
“Good,” he replied easily. “I don’t need a reminder.”
“I don’t think you have ever taken the time to ask me anything. You are usually just barging over and demanding whatever it is you want.”
His gaze swept effortlessly over her face. It was intimate, and a warmth of pleasure washed over her. A quiver of desire to touch him seemed to shudder so deeply inside her she felt it in her bones. She had no doubt that he felt the same currents of fascination for her flowing naturally between them.
He gave her a mischievous smile. “I knocked this time.”
As much as she hated to, Adeline smiled, as well. He wasn’t a beast, but he was a danger to her.
Chapter 10
Hammering rain beat upon the roof of the landau and slashed against the small glass panes in the door. It was as if the heavens had opened up to empty buckets of water upon London. Strong gusts rocked and shuddered the lightweight carriage.
Adeline had made it out of her solicitor’s office and inside the compartment befor
e the worst of the early spring storm hit, but not until after a fierce whip of wind had turned her umbrella inside out and rendered it completely useless. Her cape was wet but not completely drenched; her thin silk dress and satin shoes were damp and cold. She could warm herself quickly enough when she made it home, but she didn’t know how long that might be.
The heavy downpour had traffic moving at a crawl.
No matter. She would weather the storm in stride. All the minor details of the school that had been left unresolved for one reason or another had now been settled and money to ensure the financial soundness of the school for the next five years was set aside in the proper accounts. She, Julia, and Brina had left Mr. Clements’ office, where they’d signed the last of the documents concerning the organizational structure and security of The Seafarer’s School for Girls.
Adeline leaned her head against the soft velvet cushions and smiled as the carriage rumbled along. Sounds of the pelting storm should be disturbing, but as she listened to the rage outside, she realized she was peaceful inside and had been for quite some time now. Occasionally a memory from the past would haunt her, but she was learning to busy herself with other things when they wanted to invade her thoughts.
Now there were children in her future. Not any she would be a mother to, but ones who would grow up to have a better life because of her. It was fitting that she was helping children with the money Wake had left at her disposal. She had to appreciate him for that. Some widows weren’t taken care of as well as she had been.
She was at peace.
Yet, something was missing in her life. The Earl of Lyonwood had made her aware of what it was. What she had dreamed of having from her marriage but never received. Someone to hold her possessively. To touch her with passion. To love and desire her.
Lyon had awakened those dormant, now-unwelcomed longings to be romanced the way she’d dreamed she would be when she’d married. The fascinating earl next door was the culprit. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen, met, or chatted with strong, handsome men since her husband’s death. She had. None of them had come close to making her feel the powerful, sensuous sensations that Lyon had. It seemed unfair that the irascible man should be the one to catch her attention.
A sudden jolt of the carriage threw Adeline forward. She steadied herself with her feet and glanced out the window. Visibility was so poor she couldn’t see anything but gray. Over the squalling wind and pounding deluge on the roof, she heard her driver shouting and then distant, muffled replies.
After a few more annoying bellows, the carriage started moving but only for a few seconds before the conveyance halted once more. Further words were exchanged between her driver and someone else.
Adeline looked out the window for a second time. She rubbed the pane with her gloved hand. They’d stopped on her street but not in front of her house.
“Not again,” she whispered to herself, impatience gathering quickly in her chest.
More shouts were heard and moments later, her driver, covered in an oilcloth and a dripping, wide-brimmed hat, yanked open the door. “I’m afraid we can’t go any farther, my lady,” he said disgustedly. “I’ve tried. Appears your neighbor has the street completely blocked with the coaches of his visitors again. We’ll have to wait.”
Adeline drummed her fingers on her damp lap in irritation. Sitting in a cold carriage wearing damp clothing in the midst of a storm when her house was right down the street was quite disconcerting. She probably wouldn’t be as uncomfortable had she donned a woolen dress and her walking boots, but she thought the lightweight fabric and dainty shoes more fitting for the occasion. But truthfully, it wasn’t really the wait in the icy compartment that bothered her.
It was the earl.
His habits were becoming a routine and a nuisance she would rather avoid. It was the third time the entrance to her house had been obstructed since Lord Lyonwood had returned to the neighborhood. The two previous times there had been no problem. Adeline had simply gotten out of the carriage and strolled the short distance home. That was fine. It wasn’t that she’d minded either time. Today was different. It was pouring buckets. Her umbrella was broken, she was already wet, and her feet were going numb.
How dare this man ruin her happiness about how well the day had gone at her solicitor’s office with inconsiderate behavior. She’d been feeling absolutely serene and now she was quite annoyed. Why would the earl be so thoughtless as to allow the stack-up of carriages to happen at the end of the cul-de-sac in front of her home on a regular basis?
That had to be stopped.
What was he doing anyway? Holding court like the Prince for his friends and acquaintances every other day? Surely he knew he was inconveniencing his neighbors.
“Do you know what the reason is for the waiting carriages this time?” she asked the driver, resisting the urge to tap her foot in unguarded frustration.
The man nodded, seeming not to mind the drops pelting his face. “It’s a card game today, my lady. I was told the earl has one every week when he’s in Town.”
“A card game?” Adeline almost choked on the words as she slipped the corded handle of her meticulously knitted reticule over her wrist. The devil himself couldn’t bother her more than Lyon.
“I asked one of the drivers to move his coach forward and let me pass. He said there were too many carriages in front of him and he had nowhere to go. The other bloke told me he didn’t budge the Duke of Middlecastle’s carriage for anyone.”
“How rude!” she exclaimed.
“I’d consider it an honor if you’d allow me to call out the duke’s man for his disrespect of you, my lady,” her driver offered.
“No, of course not,” she said emphatically. “Heavens, please don’t even think about doing such an uncalled-for action. I don’t want you in a squabble about this with anyone, but it does make me wonder what kind of friends the earl has.”
“Sounds like they’re important ones, my lady.”
Adeline smiled at the driver. She wasn’t really expecting an answer from her statement.
So, it appeared she now had two choices. She either had to walk in the slashing rain to her house where she could change into dry clothing and sit before a hot fire with a warm cup of chocolate, or stay in the cold carriage wearing damp shoes that weren’t going to dry out anytime soon while twiddling her thumbs for only heaven knew how long.
No one had to tell her that rain and card games could go on all night long.
What nerve the earl and his friends had to place anyone in this situation, she thought as she searched around the cushions and floor for an extra umbrella. Lord Lyonwood had barged into her house and the schoolyard thinking to tell her how she could use her home and then assumed he could do whatever he pleased around his own—with no concern whatsoever as to how it upset the lives of his neighbors.
Her search for an umbrella came up empty. Not even a fancy parasol had been left inside. Exasperated, she looked over at her driver and asked, “Do you have an extra umbrella?”
“Don’t have one at all, my lady. But the rain should let up soon.”
“Not soon enough for me,” she mumbled to herself; and then louder, she said, “I’m sure the rain won’t harm me and it might possibly cool my temper. I’ll walk. Help me down and then you can get the horses and yourself out of this weather.”
“It’s not for me to tell you what to do, but I suggest you wait out the downpour right where you are. It’s not fit for you out in this. The wind is fierce and the rain is cold.”
That would be the civil thing for her to do, but she wasn’t feeling civil. She was feeling quite fierce herself. Adeline reached to pull her hood over her head and realized the cape she was wearing didn’t have one. Oh, what rotten luck. And it was all Lyon’s fault. She’d have to rely on her short-brimmed bonnet to keep the rain out of her face, but a freezing walk was preferable to spending another minute trapped in the carriage.
“I appreciate your concern and it’s kind
of you to offer advice, but it’s not that far to my house from here, and I’ll probably run most of the way. Help me step down, please, and I’ll be on my way and you can be, too.”
Adeline’s foot hit the ground in an ankle-deep puddle. Inhaling deeply from the unexpected water, for an instant she rethought her assertion that she could hurry home. Wet feet had always chilled her to the bone, and for a moment she couldn’t have felt more vulnerable if she’d been wandering the dark moors alone at midnight. Wincing from the weakness of the feeling, she fought it down and shook if off. Lifting her shoulders, she thanked the driver.
A gust threatened to take off her bonnet. She held it on her head, dashed across the street, and started toward her house at a fast pace.
Without benefit of a hood, a trickling stream quickly seeped around her neckline and down the back of her dress. Wind blew open her cape and within seconds the front of her dress was soaked. She took her hand off the bonnet to close the flapping wrap. Her bonnet flew off and whipped madly at the back of her shoulders.
She ducked her head lower, worrying with bonnet and cape at the same time, when from the corner of her eye she saw a glimmer of light and lifted her head for a glance. It was the earl’s house she was passing. Her steps slowed. His stately home looked like a beacon of warmth, rest, and hope in the blinding torrent. It was brightly lit with what appeared to be a welcoming lamp glowing in every window.
Anger churned inside her.
Adeline took a few more steps past his residence and then abruptly stopped. What was she doing letting Lyon get by with such abominable behavior? She hadn’t been afraid to start a charity school for unfortunate girls even when her late husband’s brother refused to help her in any way. And by heavens, she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind now to this earl.
She turned around and marched back toward Lyon’s house. Wanting to be neighborly after the incident with the girls playing outside last week, she’d allowed the inconvenience of not being dropped off at her door the two previous times without saying a word. Perhaps she could understand the earl congesting the cul-de-sac with carriages for an important political meeting with members of parliament. He was a powerful man after all. But a card game! That was unacceptable.