The Beastly Earl

by Monica Burns

  “No, I didn’t promise something I couldn’t give,” he bit out between clenched teeth. “As my brother’s business and estate manager. I have complete autonomy in managing his affairs and properties.”

  “Do you honestly expect me to believe you would have returned Marymont to me?”

  “I do not expect you to do so, but it is the truth.”

  “The truth?” she exclaimed with bitterness. “The truth is that your brother displayed no moral compass when he stole Marymont from a drunken, old fool. But you sir, are worse. You are beyond contempt.”

  Mathias went rigid. Despite knowing his original intent had been to protect his brother, he deserved Ophelia’s brutal condemnation. He was clearly worthy of her insult, but his brother was not. While Charles had many flaws, he was a good man at heart.

  It was one of the reasons Mathias quietly investigated every new paramour his brother became involved with. But somewhere in the middle of his efforts to protect his brother he’d lost sight of everything except Ophelia. Angered by the realization and his responsibility in fortifying Ophelia’s poor opinion of Charles, he narrowed his gaze at her.

  “I will not quarrel with your judgement of me, even though it wasn’t my intent to humiliate you. That said, I’m the wall that stands between my brother and any woman who seeks to become the next Countess of Thornbury through less than honorable means.”

  At his cold reply, Ophelia’s head jerked backward as if he’d slapped her. Regret crashed through him. Christ Jesus, this wasn’t how to apologize to the woman. He’d simply added insult to injury. Intense dislike darkened her features as she glared at him.

  “I have never had any designs on your brother or his title,” she bit out an in acerbic tone. “I have no intention of tying myself to any man ever again.”

  “Perhaps not, but my brother is not always discreet in his liaisons. It’s my responsibility to ensure the women he indulges himself with are not in pursuit of a title.”

  “I want nothing more from your brother than for him to return my childhood home to me. And I was willing to pay in the only currency I possess. Unfortunately, I underestimated the depths of your family’s depravity.”

  Her face pale, Ophelia’s brown eyes flashed with pale gold sparks of anger as she quickly stepped around him and headed for the door. He matched her pace and held up the key he’d pulled from his pocket.

  “I will escort you back to the ballroom, my lady.”

  “No. You will not,” she snapped as she tugged the key from his grasp and proceeded to unlock the door.

  With a sharp movement she jerked open the door and allowed it to fly open. Caught off guard by her action, Mathias didn’t move fast enough to avoid the door hitting him. An oath escaped him as he released a low cry of pain. Preoccupied with his injury, he failed to halt Ophelia’s flight from the room. One hand pressed to his nose, he felt a warm trickle of blood touch his lips.

  “Damn it to hell.”

  Mathias pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it against his nose to staunch the bleeding. After several moments he was able to straighten his head while gently wiping the last bit of blood from above his upper lip.

  He deserved every bit of Ophelia’s anger. There was no doubt in his mind that her outrageous proposal had been born of desperation. He’d been so blinded by his preconceived notions as to her motives, he’d failed to see the humiliation layered beneath her initial proposal.

  His failure was compounded by his inability to control the lust she’d aroused in him. Not only had he allowed her to believe he was his brother, he’d negotiated an agreement with her. There was no doubt in his mind that Charles would find his behavior worthy of Ophelia’s contempt. He grimaced at the thought.

  This was the first time since he was a boy that he’d done something less than circumspect, not to mention dishonorable. Generally, it was Charles who chafed at the constraints of society. Mathias bit down on the inside of his cheek. As much as he loved his brother, he knew Charles was far removed from a saint. Even when they were children Charles had always walked the fine line between acceptable behavior and outright defiance of social conventions.

  Tonight Mathias had been the one to cross the line. The fact he’d not attempted to quickly correct Ophelia’s mistaken belief as to his identity was reprehensible. It illustrated how jaded he’d become since first taking on the task of guarding Charles’s reputation. Protecting his brother from scandal was a duty he’d performed ever since their father had died ten years ago.

  From the moment Charles had inherited the Thornbury title, Mathias had served as his brother’s confidant and estate manager as well as the wall any woman intent on becoming the next Countess of Thornbury would have to breach. But none of that excused his conduct in bartering with Ophelia and accepting what she’d offered in exchange for the return of her home. He deserved every bit of her contempt, particularly when he considered his base reaction to her.

  Reluctantly he admitted it had been difficult not to be fascinated by her proposition. His admission that she intrigued him was true. When she’d shared Havenstock’s opinion of her wifely duties, he’d been outraged the man had convinced Ophelia she was incapable of passion. The idea that she thought herself incapable of feeling passion or arousing a man’s desire would have been laughable if he’d not seen the look of humiliation in her brown eyes.

  Everything about her reaction to him illustrated she was more than capable of great passion, but it was obvious she believed what Havenstock had told her. In all likelihood, the old bastard hadn’t been able to raise his cock and blamed his wife. Mathias had only met the old viscount a couple of times, but had never really cared for the man. Havenstock had been a bombastic, pompous ass. Ophelia was better off a widow.

  With a grunt of frustrated disgust, Mathias strode out into the corridor and headed back to the ballroom. He was far too preoccupied with the woman. He’d done what he’d needed to do to—protect Charles. It was a poor attempt on his part to explain away his behavior tonight, which was inexcusable. The thought made him feel even worse. He muttered a harsh oath beneath his breath. He’d allowed matters to get out of hand to the point he’d failed to apologize or reassure her that he would see to it her home was returned to her. As he entered the ballroom, he saw two of the Rockwood family members conversing with Ophelia. Both Percy and Louisa laughed at something Ophelia said, and he debated whether or not to approach the three of them.

  Almost as if she sensed his presence, Ophelia turned her head and their gazes met. Revulsion flashed across her features before she quickly looked away. That answered that question. Mathias bit down on the inside of his cheek. She was right. He was a bastard. The question now was how to make her understand he wasn’t the man she believed him to be. The instant the thought filled his head, Mathias went rigid. And he’d been worried about Charles becoming infatuated with Ophelia. He uttered another oath beneath his breath as he spun around on his heel and left the ballroom. Tomorrow Viscountess Havenstock would have her home back, and he’d be able to apologize.

  § § §

  Mathias stepped out of the hack onto the sidewalk in front of the small, plain townhouse. When he’d seen Percy at the club earlier this morning, he’d managed to subtly secure Ophelia’s address. Now as he stood in front of the nondescript residence, he frowned slightly. By all accounts, Havenstock had been quite well off. Surely Ophelia could afford something more in keeping with her title.

  He quickly strode up the three steps and grabbed the knocker to rap firmly on the door. The door was answered almost immediately by an elderly gentleman who arched his eyebrows at him. The look evoked a childhood memory of being under the stern gaze of his school master, and Mathias bit back a smile.

  “Mr. Mathias Gilchrist to see Viscountess Havenstock. I believe I’m expected.” The small fabrication made the butler open the door wide to give him access to the narrow entryway.

  “Who is it, Taggert?” The voice echoing out of
a room on his left made Mathias turn his head as a younger version of Ophelia emerged from what he assumed was a parlor. “Lord Thornbury.”

  “Actually, I’m Mathias Gilchrist, his brother.” At his brief reply, the young woman’s eyes widened in surprise before she recovered her wits and smiled.

  “Good morning, Mr. Gilchrist. I’m Elizabeth Sheffield.”

  “A pleasure,” he murmured as he stepped forward to kiss the young lady’s hand. A blush crested over her cheeks as she quickly pulled her hand from his and gestured toward the doorway behind her.

  “Won’t you come in? Taggert, please inform Lady Havenstock we have a caller, and ask Mrs. Barstow to bring us some tea.” Elizabeth Sheffield led the way into a modest salon. She pointed to a chair beside the fireplace and a small fire burning in the grate. “Please, Mr. Gilchrist, have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” he said quietly as his gaze swept around the room. There was barely room for the couch and two chairs that filled the parlor while the small piano against the wall took up what little space remained.

  “Please forgive my staring, Mr. Gilchrist. Your resemblance to the earl is quite striking.”

  “We’re often mistaken for one another,” he said with a smile. “And there are times when it’s most inconvenient.”

  “Since we’ve not met before, I can only assume you are here to call on my sister.”

  “If you’re referring to Lady Havenstock, then yes. We met last night at Melton House.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize she’d actually met you—” Elizabeth uttered a gasp of horror and covered her mouth. “Good heavens, no wonder Ophelia barely said two words to me on the way home last night. She must have thought you—”

  “Lizzie, would you please go check on father. He’s suffering from another of his headaches.” At the sound of Ophelia’s voice, Mathias immediately stood up and turned toward the parlor doorway.

  “It was delightful to meet you, Mr. Gilchrist.” Elizabeth said as she stood up and curtsied in his direction. Despite the furtive look she shot in her sister’s direction, there was a cheerfulness to her voice that made him smile.

  “And I you, Miss Sheffield. Perhaps you’ll save a dance for me when next we meet.”

  “That would be—”

  “Lizzie. Now, please.” Ophelia’s command was quiet, but there was a raw edge to it that made the younger woman flinch.

  “Yes, Ophelia.”

  With one last smile in his direction, Elizabeth Sheffield hurried past her sister and left the parlor. As her sister disappeared from view, Ophelia moved to stand in the center of the room. The look she directed at him was one of cold fury, and the silence filling the space between them was riddled with tension. As the sound of her sister’s footsteps faded up the stairs, Ophelia narrowed her gaze at him.

  “Why are you here?” A winter day could not have been colder than her voice.

  “I’ve brought you a gift.”

  “I want nothing from you, Mr. Gilchrist, except to see the back of you as you walk out of this house.”

  Mathias ignored her icy reply and reached into his coat to pull out a small packet of documents from his inside breast pocket. Without a word, he offered her the papers. Ophelia studied him warily for a moment before she cautiously stepped forward to accept the paperwork from him. Papers in hand, Ophelia quickly put space between them again. The soft crackle of parchment echoed in the air as she reviewed the documents he’d given her. After a brief moment, she jerked her head up to stare at him in amazement.

  “This is the deed to Marymont.”

  “Yes. I told you it was within my power to return it to you,” he said quietly.

  “And I presume you will require my signature on another document in exchange for your generosity.” The bitter sarcasm in her reply made his jaw tighten until it hurt.

  “There are no conditions tied to the deed.”

  “Do you actually expect me to believe your largess is without any ties at all, Mr. Gilchrist?”

  “I do,” he said with an abrupt nod. Irritated by the question, Mathias clenched his teeth in anger. How was she to think otherwise? He clasped his hands behind his back and fisted his hands. “You were right to hold me in contempt last night. My behavior was less than gentlemanly, and I had resolved to visit my brother’s solicitor first thing this morning to arrange for the return of your property without any stipulations in an effort to apologize for my behavior. My brother, however, circumvented my efforts.”

  “What are you saying?” Trepidation flashed across her face, and he saw her fingers tighten around the paperwork she held.

  “While it had been my intent to be the one responsible for restoring your home to you, that honor belongs to my brother. Charles, who according to you has no moral compass, had already left instructions for our solicitor to transfer the property into your name and return it to you this week. I am simply the bearer of good tidings.”

  Mathias held himself stiffly as he watched the varied emotions flitting across Ophelia’s features. Damn Charles for stealing his ability to fully redeem himself and advance his cause with her. The thought made Mathias’s entire body harden with tension as a voice in the back of his head shouted a cry of surprise and alarm.

  What the devil had he hoped to achieve by restoring her home to her? The answer only served to make his body grow more rigid. He should have simply written a note of apology and sent it with the solicitor and the deed as opposed to coming here in person. Christ, he’d made a mess out of this entire situation. Eager to be done with the matter, Mathias cleared his throat.

  “As I said, I deeply regret my behavior last night, and now that your home has been returned to you, I shall bid you good day, Lady Havenstock.”

  With a sharp, perfunctory bow, Mathias turned and strode out of the room. Once he put distance between them, he’d soon forget the temptation the woman presented. Wild laughter exploded in his head at the lie. Ophelia was not a woman one could easily forget.

  Buy The Rogue's Offer Now — A Reckless Rockwoods Novel, The Reluctant Rogues

  § § §

  Thank you again for reading Ewan’s and Louisa’s story, and I hope you enjoyed the first chapters' from The Rogue's Offer. If you could spare just a few minutes of your time, please help this starving author, and help other readers find this book:

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  Other Titles by Monica Burns

  THE RECKLESS ROCKWOODS SERIES

  Obsession - #1

  Dangerous - #2

  The Highlander’s Woman - #3

  Redemption - #4

  The Beastly Earl #5

  THE RELUCTANT ROGUES SERIES

  (Reckless Rockwoods Spin-off)

  The Rogue’s Offer

  SELF-MADE MEN SERIES

  His To Command - #1 (Novella)

  His Mistress - #2

  TIME TRAVEL

  Forever Mine

  STAND ALONE

  Kismet

  Mirage

  Pleasure Me

  NOVELLAS

  A Bluestocking Christmas

  Love’s Portrait

  Love’s Revenge

  ORDER
OF THE SICARI SERIES

  Assassin's Honor - #1

  Assassin's Heart - #2

  Inferno's Kiss - #3

  THE ROCHESTER SISTERHOOD

  Tempting Jane

  About Monica

  Monica Burns is a bestselling author of spicy historical and paranormal romance. She penned her first romance at the age of nine when she selected the pseudonym she uses today. Recently she received the Gold Medal award from International Book Awards Readers’ Choice contest. Other historical book awards include the 2011 RT BookReviews Reviewers Choice Award and the 2012 Gayle Wilson Heart of Excellence Award for Pleasure Me.

  She is also the recipient of the prestigious paranormal romance award, the 2011 PRISM Best of the Best award for Assassin’s Heart. From the days when she hid her stories from her sisters to her first completed full-length manuscript, she always believed in her dream despite rejections and setbacks. A workaholic wife and mother, Monica is a survivor who believes every hero and heroine deserves a HEA (Happily Ever After), especially if she’s writing the story.

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