London's Most Elusive Earl

by Anabelle Bryant

  “Nothing that should concern you, dear. Besides, once you marry Lord Mills—”

  “Marry Lord Mills?” She sprung from the chair as if the cushion caught flame. “I’m not going to marry Lord Mills. I may never marry at all.” She realized she sounded irrational. But everything had changed. After Lindsey entered her life, she couldn’t focus on finding a suitable husband, because all thoughts and emotions were consumed by him.

  And where had that gotten her?

  “Oh, my.” Her mother’s expression looked more forlorn than before.

  “Just tell me, Mother. Please. Tell me all of it.” She moved beside her mother and placed her hands within her own. Her mother’s fingers were unusually cold, the skin thin and soft. She didn’t want to add to her parents’ distress, but if she understood the secrecy that surrounded their present predicament, she could find a way to assist in the resolution.

  A sigh escaped and her mother’s mouth drooped into a disapproving frown, but at last she began to speak.

  “As you know, your father enjoys the arts. So much so, he fancied he might try his own hand.”

  “Buying and selling paintings?”

  “Yes, although there’s more to it than that, and if you’d like me to explain you must allow me to do it all at once, without question or interruption, otherwise I doubt I’ll be able to give it voice. It’s a secret I’ve kept for so long I’d rather have it out in one breath.” Her mother tugged at her hands in an attempt to remove them from Caroline’s clasp, her words filled with emotion.

  Quieted by the impact of her mother’s confession and adversely startled by the sudden sprint of her pulse, Caroline released her mother’s hands and settled her own in her lap. What could possibly deliver such despair to her parents?

  “It all began innocently enough. Your father was at a gallery with his easel, painting a replica of one of the works displayed, when a stranger complimented the likeness. Your father and the stranger continued the conversation, and the man offered a handsome sum for the painting whenever it was completed. At first, your father declined. He was hardly as good as the stranger declared, and furthermore he saw art as a creative pastime, not a means to make money.” Her mother expelled another long sigh before she went on. “But the stranger became insistent, and I suppose the compliments may have turned your father’s head. He agreed to finish the painting and deliver it to the gentleman’s home in return for a handsome sum. No sooner had he accomplished that than the man insisted upon another, and then another. It became a habit, one your father believed harmless until a disturbing nuance came to light. He discovered the stranger was selling his reproductions as originals, and when your father objected the man claimed he’d ruin our family’s reputation by exposing what Father had done, casting him in a poor light and accusing him of actively participating in forgery. This culprit demanded more and more paintings and, instead of sharing the money gained, withheld payment whenever your father showed reluctance to participate. He beggared us with blackmail, manipulating your father into a most indefensible position.”

  “This is horrible.” Aghast, Caroline could only shake her head in dismay.

  “It is.” This time her mother gathered Caroline’s hands and stroked them in reassurance. “We fled Italy not to hurry you back to the season, although we want you to have every happiness, but more so to escape that despicable man and the threat he held over your father. His influence was too great, and we were visitors in a foreign land. Despite your father’s reputation, he would have been powerless against the web of thieves and criminals involved in the dishonest forgery scheme run by that terrible thief.” The anguish in her voice was unmistakable now.

  “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  “Of course you didn’t. We’re your parents. Our purpose is to guide and protect you. We couldn’t have you worry, but needless to say this has taken its toll on your father and me. The household finances are in a shamble, and there’s significant debt that’s come due. We can’t risk slander or poor reputation. It would mar your chances of an advantageous future.”

  “If only I had known, Mother. The fashionable gowns and accessories purchased in Rome, the excursions to museums and galleries, the restaurants…” At a loss to reverse those decisions and spare her parents’ further expense, she stopped speaking.

  “Caroline.” Her mother’s voice was stern. “We almost lost you once. We knew your spirit suffered as much as your body, and we wanted to give you everything a young lady could ever desire. The promise of a happy future with a responsible and well-heeled husband has always been our greatest goal.”

  “At least it’s over now.” She swept her hands over her face to wipe away all unpleasant emotion and turned to her mother with a valiant smile.

  “It will be soon, dear.”

  “What?”

  “The unfortunate experience has left our funds depleted, not to mention the expense of our relocation. With your interest in marriage and the expected dowry to attract the most select suitors, I’m afraid your father had to act.”

  “What has he done? He’s not still involved? Not still producing forgeries?”

  “I’d rather not continue this conversation. He’ll be angry with me for divulging so much already. You know how much your father loves you, don’t you?”

  Caroline didn’t reply, her mind already awhirl, determined to find a solution to make everything right again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Frustrated and unsure how to proceed, Lindsey walked his way through the maze of dank alleys and shadowy streets until his boots found pavement outside of Seven Dials. He promptly hailed a hansom cab and directed the driver to his town house on Orchard Street overlooking Portman Square. His home was fashionable enough to be considered highbrow, and yet detached from the limestone façades of Brook and Davies Streets, beyond the alluring status of Grosvenor Square. It was a private residence and he rarely entertained, content to find amusement elsewhere.

  Without a doubt, tonight he was in want of quiet. His experience inside the fencer’s lair had been anything but successful. Lord Derby had disappeared into a room not unlike Lindsey’s first encounter at the address and had exited emptyhanded. Unwilling to lose his own opportunity to secure information concerning the Decima, Lindsey had allowed the older man to walk out unconfronted, and yet when he’d finally managed to locate the bloke who’d confirmed the authenticity of the Nona, he’d met with belligerence and distrust no amount of money or haughty aristocratic influence could change.

  Momentarily defeated, he dropped his head to the leather bolster and closed his eyes, quick to summon an image of Caroline as she’d reclined on the chaise at Kingswood, the frothy gauze of her masquerade costume billowed around her as if she were perched upon a cloud, an otherworldly goddess that may as well live only in his imagination. He possessed strong feelings for her. He could no longer deny it, nor attempt to persuade himself she was nothing more than a lovely distraction. But what to do about that realization remained a riddle.

  Unquestionably overdue, he needed to make amends for his behavior. A gentleman did not share an intimacy of their magnitude and promptly neglect the lady straight after. It was his worst mistake among many, yet the intensity of their moment together shook him to his soul. She must thoroughly despise him now.

  He also needed time. Time to sort his feelings, organize his life, and produce the words necessary to convince Caroline to forgive him. He’d ignored the situation because he hadn’t the courage to admit she’d found his heart. He’d avoided her because he hadn’t the trust to believe he would ever be enough. It was fear and a healthy dose of undeniable emotion, both of which he’d little experience. And while the latter frightened the hell out of him, it persisted nonetheless.

  The hansom jerked to a stop at the curb, interrupting the determined path of his thoughts. He paid the driver and took the steps, confident with h
is newborn plan. With the right amount of deliberation, soul searching, and time, he hoped he could win her back—if he was lucky enough to have ever possessed her admiration in the first place.

  He produced his key, but Hobbs, his butler, opened the door before he could fit it into the lock.

  “You’ve a visitor, my lord.”

  Damn it to hell. He wanted peace and quiet.

  He wanted Caroline.

  “Have Mills wait for me in my study, Hobbs.” He hadn’t expected news about the Morta so quickly, but perhaps his fickle fate had changed and things would resolve before he’d need worry about penury.

  “Pardon, my lord, but Lord Mills is not here.”

  “Then who is it?” Lindsey stepped into the foyer, a beat of annoyance turning his question sharp as the bracket clock in the hall chimed the hour.

  “The lady hasn’t given her name.”

  “Lady?” Lindsey heaved a breath of frustration. If Lady Jenkin chose this moment to rail at him and further complicate his life, he’d toss her out on her dainty arse.

  “She insisted, my lord, and said it was a matter of great importance. I believed her, as she was visibly shaken. I could not turn her away.”

  “Of course not.”

  “She waits in the silver drawing room, my lord.”

  “Thank you, Hobbs.”

  “Shall I arrange for refreshments?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. Whatever business poised to present itself will be expediated. You may close the house for the night, Hobbs, and take your rest. I’ll see the visitor out.”

  Lindsey strode briskly toward the drawing room, his patience on a short leash. Damn it all if his life wasn’t one inconvenience after another.

  He cleared his throat to give Lady Jenkin forewarning he was on his way in, and started speaking before he fully entered. “It doesn’t matter what reason you think you have to be here, you need to leave at once.” He pulled up fast as his gaze landed on the lady, her back to him as she startled and spun at the sound of his rude pronouncement. “Caroline.”

  He was shocked, inordinately pleased, and completely at a loss for words.

  “Jonathan.”

  He stood silent, drinking in the sight before him. He couldn’t understand her visit, and yet the sound of his name in her voice was the calm his soul had searched for since the last time they were together. He regretted the clumsy way he’d handled that situation. Still, the lady was dangerous. She made him think about things he would prefer to ignore. Most markedly, the future.

  “Do you want me to leave?” She didn’t move, her lips pressed together in a frown of disapproval.

  “No.” He stepped closer, still gathering his wits. “I misunderstood my butler.” Seeking to gain a modicum of time, he moved to the sideboard and reached for the brandy. “Would you like something to drink? I have wine or sherry if brandy doesn’t suit.”

  “No, thank you.” She shook her head and a few loose ringlets dropped across her ear.

  His fingers itched to sweep them back, tuck them away, before he covered her face with kisses. His eyes fell to her velvet cloak draped over one of the Hepplewhite chairs. “Tell me you brought a footman or other servant with you this evening.”

  “My maid is in the kitchen, if that abets your anger. Your housekeeper was kind enough to offer her tea and biscuits.”

  The mixture of indignation and regret in her voice caused him to proceed with care, though he couldn’t decipher exactly which emotion claimed victory.

  “I’m not displeased.” He poured two fingers of brandy and moved toward her beside the hearth. She appeared more skittish than she sounded, although he still hadn’t the slightest idea why she’d arrived at this hour of the evening. Again he was struck by the fact Caroline was out unescorted, with no heed of her personal safety aside from one slip of a maid. She must have assumed his displeasure, as she continued without prompting.

  “I left my parents a note so they wouldn’t worry. They believe I’ve gone to visit Louisa. I told them not to wait, for I’ll be returning late.”

  He stopped several paces away and stared, hoping to understand and at the same time wanting the moment to last. She looked as beautiful as he’d recalled only this evening in the hansom cab. She wore a silky gown of cobalt blue, modestly cut but all the more appealing for what it concealed from the eye. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”

  “Why would you? You made it clear you had no need to see me again.” Her chin rose a notch and her eyes blazed as she faced him. By damn, she was glorious in her temper. “Be assured I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t imperative.”

  Her voice, strong and composed, was betrayed by the delicate tremble of her lips.

  “Are you well?” He’d much rather she tell him directly whatever troubled her, but he had the good sense not to press.

  “I must be mad to appeal to you, given your lack of—”

  “Caroline—”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She hesitated, as if she wrestled with her reply. “My situation is dire, and I have nowhere else to turn. My aunt and uncle must never know. They’d be mortified. We’ll all be ostracized.” She blinked hard and drew a shuddering breath before she continued. “My family…my father is in trouble.”

  Perhaps his first assumption proved correct and Lord Derby was in Seven Dials to sell artwork in an effort to gain quick access to funds. Lindsey groaned inwardly at the irony of the situation. Were Caroline to ask him for money, he had little to spare.

  “How can I help?” He stepped near enough to see the glisten of unshed tears in her extraordinary blue eyes.

  “I recalled Lady Henley’s comment that you’re interested in the arts. She mentioned you were seeking a painting, and I assumed you might know someone who could assist me.”

  “In what way?” He almost reached for her; his fingers curled inward against his palms to tamp down the urge. He wanted to offer comfort but didn’t know if she’d welcome his touch. “You’ll have to explain further, no matter how difficult the telling, but be assured, love, I’ll employ every resource in my power to solve your problem.”

  Her eyes shot to his at the use of the endearment, or perhaps he looked for forgiveness where there was none. Chances were she merely sought the information he could provide.

  “I don’t know how to fix this.” Her voice broke on the confession and at the risk of earning further scorn, he surrendered to temptation and pulled her into his arms.

  * * * *

  She despised herself for seeking refuge in Jonathan’s embrace. Still, when his strong arms encircled and supported her, she relished the heavenly comfort he offered. She burrowed against his chest, the thick wool of his coat soft beneath her cheek, his scent an instant balm to the onslaught of emotion churning chaos within. Another minute and her tears evaporated, her upset abated, though anger was fast to replace it.

  She disentangled herself and he let her go without hesitation.

  “I’m not here for personal reassurances.”

  “I want you to know—”

  “Don’t. It doesn’t matter. I’d rather we discuss the situation that prompted me to seek you out.”

  He continued despite her attempt to deter the conversation.

  “It does matter. I didn’t call on you after our evening together because—”

  “Because I’d fallen so easily under your spell. You’d needn’t say more.” She struggled to keep the bitterness from her voice. She wouldn’t add another humiliation to the list.

  “No. You have it turned about. I was the one who’d become enchanted, Caroline.”

  “So I’m to believe a renowned rakehell, one with worldly knowledge I can’t even imagine, became taken with me after a kiss or two and therefore ignored me right after?”

  “Yes.”

  She glared at him in li
eu of answering.

  “Yes,” he repeated. “Because the connection we shared was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. The intensity of my feelings and the power you held scared the hell out of me. I didn’t contact you because you mattered too much and in that, I was powerless.”

  She inhaled deeply to guard against his words, refusing to allow the slightest vulnerability.

  “You affected me to the depths of my jaded soul. Still, I couldn’t ruin you. I’m not that selfish. To that end, I couldn’t tolerate myself if I did, and yet I couldn’t have you. You deserve someone who will offer you every dream of your heart.” He reclaimed his brandy from the end table and finished what was left in the glass. “Not a world-weary earl on the cusp of poverty.”

  “What?” Had she heard him correctly?

  “My life is complicated, and a sad story to tell, but be assured, all matters aside, I wanted you then and even more so now.”

  “I don’t understand, but I do know you should have called on me or sent me a message. Anything to reassure me your immediate absence wasn’t my doing. I was warned abandonment was in your nature, and yet I naively chose to believe otherwise.”

  He set down his glass and advanced, until they stood so close she could see candlelight reflected in his midnight eyes.

  “It was never your doing. I accept all fault.”

  She searched his face and found sincerity there. Beneath the unmistakable regret of his words she heard tenderness and affection. Her heart relaxed though the circumstances hadn’t changed. If she had come seeking his help, she may as well confess it without further delay.

  “Somehow our conversation has strayed the path.” She shook her head in admonishment and reordered her thoughts. Mustering the courage to tell what she knew, she prayed trusting him wasn’t another mistake. She hemmed her bottom lip. Lindsey was a peer, an honest, noble gentleman who wouldn’t harm the smallest animal, no matter he was painted as a scoundrel. Would he view her family poorly for her father’s dishonesty, or understand the conditions of the situation? Would she lose whatever respect he held for her?