A Seductive Lady For The Scarred Earl (Steamy Regency Romance)

by Olivia Bennet

  He couldn’t wait to bring her home, to bring her into his bed, all soft and pale and wanting him as much as he wanted her.

  There were a handful of times, during those two weeks, when he and she had drawn perilously close to anticipating their wedding vows and throwing formality to the wind in terms of waiting until their wedding night to consummate their love. Betrothal had made her bold, and her minx-ish ways only increased by the day. She seemed to delight in tormenting him, teasing him and bringing him right to the precipitous edge of madness before suddenly backing away and acting as though he were mad to even suggest such pre-marital mischief.

  Still, he didn’t mind. If anything, her tortuous teasing only assured him every day that she desired him, truly. In her eyes, he was not disfigured at all, he was not ugly or disgraceful or pitiful. She found him attractive, in that honest, earnest way that filled her honey-green eyes with a mischievous glint.

  It all seemed almost too good to be true.

  He was returning home from just such an encounter with her that afternoon. Her father had gone to visit a friend in town and with his paternalistic presence absent, Barbara had sat astride Jeffrey’s lap in the sunny parlor. Her skirt had hitched up to her milky thighs as she straddled his hips and there was no possibility that she might have failed to notice his insistent arousal as she pressed herself against him and kissed him as if she might never be kissed again.

  The presence of an unfamiliar carriage in front of his townhouse filled him with annoyance. For the past two weeks, no one else had existed in his mind but Barbara, and his dealings with others were mere distractions from his purpose. He strode into the house ready to dispense with whoever it was as quickly as possible.

  The man who stood in Jeffrey’s foyer was a perfect stranger to him. He was tall and conventionally handsome and dressed as though he had some money, but other than that there was nothing that Jeffrey could glean about him from his appearance.

  “Lord Brookham, Sir,” the gentleman said, bowing at the waist.

  “Brookham?” Jeffrey said, raising a quizzical brow. “Have we met?”

  “No, I haven’t had the pleasure as of yet. However, I have come here today with regards to your upcoming nuptials.”

  Jeffrey had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

  “Has the Dowager Countess of Carlesend put you up to this, by chance?” Jeffrey asked. He’d been about to usher the man into the drawing room but saw no need now. He wouldn’t be there long.

  “I—” the man stammered.

  “How much did she give you?”

  Lord Brookham squared his shoulders. “No money was exchanged, Captain Pemberton. I come here merely to pass on information about your betrothed that you should find relevant.”

  Jeffrey leaned one arm against the bannister of the staircase and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Well? Please, do tell me what it is that so troubles you and my mother about Lady Barbara. But be quick about it, I have a wedding to plan.”

  Lord Brookham took a deep breath and seemed to be recalling a speech that he had prepared. “I met Lady Barbara shortly before you arrived back in town. Her father has been searching for a husband for her for some time, I take it. The two of them run the orphanage in town, as I’m sure you are aware, and several other charitable foundations and, well it has been said that the Duke’s coffers have been worn down by his daughter’s expenses.”

  “Oh, has that been said, indeed?” Jeffrey asked sarcastically. He glanced at the large clock in the foyer.

  “Well, to put it bluntly, Sir, she has been seen with many gentlemen over the past few years. Despite the fact that she is well past the first blush of youthful beauty, she had continued to refuse the offers of eligible gentlemen who were brought to her.”

  Jeffrey bristled at the insinuation that Barbara was no longer young and beautiful. “What is your point, My Lord. If you will please forgive my bluntness.”

  “The point is simply this, Captain. It doesn’t stand to reason that a lady in her position, of her age, would go about refusing these matches except that she did not find the gentlemen to be wealthy enough for her purposes.” Lord Brookham shifted his weight uneasily. Jeffrey grimaced looking at him, the fashionable sop standing there with that false concern in his eyes. “There was an unspoken understanding that the best way to Lady Barbara’s hand was to offer large sums of money to her foundation. Well, I’m sure you can see now that her sudden interest in you, when she had shown precious little interest in any other of her myriad suitors, must have a large part to do with your considerable wealth. Your contribution to the orphanage has been grist for the gossip mill ever since you arrived here.”

  “Are you saying that you, and others, believe that I purchased my bride?” Jeffrey asked darkly. He liked this gentleman less by the second.

  “I wouldn’t put it so starkly, Captain Pemberton, but…”

  “But?”

  “Well, forgive me, Sir, but we all must agree that Lady Barbara is a charming woman. Her beauty is without question, despite her age. Does it not strike you as somewhat…again, forgive me…unlikely that she should fall for someone of your…of your…”

  “I’m too ugly for her.”

  Lord Brookham clicked his tongue noncommittally, but he did not contradict Jeffrey either.

  “Get out of my house,” Jeffrey said, straightening up and arranging his expression into one that he knew was intimidating to most everyone.

  “I meant no offense, Captain. I am merely stating facts. Surely even you must see how it looks from the outside.”

  “Out.”

  “No one is suggesting that the Lady is merely a fortune seeker for her own advantage. The fact that she is doing this out of concern for the orphans whom she had taken it upon herself to provide for must surely soften the tone of the gossip against her, but the fact remains that there is a certain…mercenary cast over her character and to align yourself with her in this way may weaken your reputation as a sensible gentleman.”

  The man was talking quickly, each word running into the one before it. Jeffrey marveled at his gall, to stand there and ignore his order for him to vacate the premises. To stand there and continue to slander his bride.

  “I wouldn’t come here with accusations like this without proof,” Lord Brookham said.

  Jeffrey inhaled, watching as the man produced a letter from his inner pocket.

  “She wrote this letter to me, mere days before she met you. I think it will make her intentions quite clear. It is highly suspicious, I think you will agree, that her feelings described in this letter should vanish so quickly at the sudden appearance of a gentleman in town of your considerable wealth.” Lord Brookham said, handing the opened letter to him. Jeffrey took it reluctantly. Glancing down at it, he tried to distance himself from whatever the contents of the letter were. What she wrote to gentlemen before she met him was of no import, right?

  “Well then. I do apologize, Captain Pemberton. It is a shame we had to meet this way, but it is my honor to meet you anyway. Good day, Sir.”

  “Good day,” Jeffrey mumbled automatically. Lord Brookham was leaving. A gust of air swirled into the foyer as the front door opened and closed behind him. Jeffrey clutched the letter in his hand. The sounds of servants walking about upstairs brought him back to his senses, and he flinched at the thought of anyone having overheard that humiliating conversation.

  He folded the letter and took it into his study, closing the door behind him. This room was even darker and more foreboding than the rest of the house. The window behind the desk was always shuttered, and the airlessness of the room made it feel smaller. He sat down behind the desk and spread the letter out upon the dark wood, bracing himself.

  His eyes scanned over the elegantly looped script. It was a love letter. He swallowed thickly. Barbara, his own Barbara, had written this mere days before meeting him.

  The letter was passionate, full of promises and dreams of their happy future. She talked at length ab
out the orphanage, about how perfectly happy she was. How she loved him. How she would be a good and true wife to him and that together they would provide a true home for the orphans.

  Jeffrey’s hands shook as he read it. Could it be true? Had she loved Lord Brookham? That fashionable slip of nothing with the simpering voice?

  The possibility that she truly had been in love with Lord Brookham, while unnerving to him, with nonetheless a kinder possibility than the alternative. It didn’t seem possible that the lady he had come to love so much could be nothing more than a fortune seeker. Had all of this professed love for Lord Brookham vanished upon hearing of Jeffrey’s wealth? Had she merely shifted her love act to himself to get at his money?

  Something inside of him died, to think about it.

  I always had a hunch that it was all too good to be true. Lord Brookham was right. Why would such a charming, beautiful lady desire a monster like me?

  But then he remembered how she had felt sitting on his lap. How happy she had seemed. How unconcerned with his scars, which she covered in as many kisses as the unscarred parts of his face.

  He folded the letter meticulously and placed it into a drawer.

  Perhaps she was after his fortune. As Lord Brookham himself had pointed out, it was out of an abundance of love for the orphans, not a need of money for money’s sake. He could love her despite that, even if she didn’t love him as ardently as she insisted that she did. It didn’t matter.

  Of course it matters.

  His heart broke, but he had made up his mind. Barbara would be his wife. If she didn’t love him now, she tolerated him at least. She didn’t flinch away from his touch. She respected him and she depended on him. That was enough. It wasn’t the fairytale he’d thought he’d fallen into, but it was enough. She loved the children at the orphanage, and she would love their children just as much. He decided then that he would make no mention of this letter or the visit from Lord Brookham to her. He would continue as if nothing had happened.

  To think that her evident desire for him was all an act stung him like a knife to the heart. He wanted her heart, all of it, for himself.

  It's enough. It’s still more than I deserve. Perhaps, in time, she will come to love me in truth.

  Chapter 37

  The morning of the wedding dawned on a cloudless sky. The spring was coming to an end, giving way to longer and warmer days. Barbara awoke with her stomach full of butterflies, knowing that within hours she would be Jeffrey’s wife. Something about it all felt unreal to her. She truly had begun to despair of ever finding real love and a happy marriage. She had resigned herself to her fate of perpetual spinsterhood. And then Jeffrey came along.

  Had it really only been a few months ago? It felt impossible. She truly felt as if she had known him her whole life. And, in a way, she had. She was marrying the man who had haunted her dreams throughout her girlhood, the man to whom she had compared every other man. There was no other possible husband for her. It was Jeffrey. It was always Jeffrey.

  She laid in her bed, snug under the blankets, and stared out her window at the sky. This would be the last time she would wake up in this bed. A pleasurable shiver went down her spine at the thought of whose bed she would be in by nightfall. She closed her eyes, imagining his hands on her, removing her wedding gown and showing her the ways of married love. Her core ached and she squirmed in the bed, but then a sharp knock came to her bedroom door.

  “Who is it?” she called sleepily.

  “Rosie, My Lady. We must begin!”

  Barbara jolted up in her bed and threw the covers off, running across the room to let her maid in. Rosie hurried in, quick to shut the door behind her.

  “Your groom is here!” she announced.

  “He’s here? Why?”

  Rosie shrugged exaggeratedly. “Who can speak for gentlemen these days? He’s speaking to your father. I assume he will leave for the church soon but in the meantime, we must be careful that he doesn’t see you!”

  Barbara nodded emphatically, but nonetheless she crept to the door and opened it a crack. Putting her ear to the crack, she smiled. She could hear Jeffrey laughing about something, his deep voice carrying up the stairs.

  “Oh, isn’t he beautiful…?” Barbara asked her maid dreamily.

  Rosie shrugged again. “That’s not for me to say.”

  “He’s the most gorgeous gentleman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Barbara continued, leaning against the wall and turning around.

  “Yes yes, now hurry out of that nightdress, I’ve let you sleep in too late and now there’s no time to dawdle.”

  Barbara glanced at the clock on her mantle. Rosie was right. She quickly loosened the tie of her nightgown and pulled it unceremoniously over her head. Rosie was helping her into the creamy yellow gown she’d chosen for her wedding when a second knock came to the door.

  “Don’t you dare come in, Jeffrey!” Barbara shouted, clutching the unlaced gown to her chest. The door handle turned, and she shrieked “Jeffrey, no!”

  “It’s only me.” Around the door poked the head of the Dowager Countess, Jeffrey’s mother.

  Barbara swallowed thickly. The last she had heard, the Dowager Countess was considering not even attending the wedding, of which she evidently did not approve.

  Barbara stood, dumbfounded and half undressed, as the lady came into her bedroom and shut the door behind her.

  “My son said that, with your own mother being sadly passed on, you may need to have me help you with the preparations.”

  “I—” Barbara stammered. Rosie, at least, had recovered from the surprise at the sudden guest and had returned to the task of lacing Barbara’s dress. “My older sister…”

  “Ah yes, she and her children are already at the church. She is letting them run rampant across the church yard in the hopes that they will be worn out and thus well behaved for the ceremony.” The Dowager Countess smiled gently.

  “Oh. Yes, I suppose that is sensible.” Barbara said, still a little confused. And yet, she did not want to be suspicious. Perhaps the older lady had finally come around to the marriage. Perhaps she was trying to mend her relationship with her son, and this was the first step.

  Barbara smiled. “Very well, then.”

  “Good,” the Dowager Countess grinned. “Now, I happen to know a thing or two about hair dressing, if you don’t mind my giving it a go?”

  Barbara laughed. “You’re welcome to try! I’m afraid my hair can be somewhat unruly.”

  Rosie chuckled, knowing very well the truth of that statement.

  “Don’t be silly, all these wonderful curls will work to your favor. I’ll show you.” Jeffrey’s mother stepped forward and picked up a brush from Barbara’s vanity stand.

  Barbara stared at herself in the mirror as the older lady dressed her hair. Her weathered hands were unexpectedly nimble, twisting Barbara’s hair into obedient ringlets and pinning them into a fetching style at the back of her head. Rosie was standing to the side, her head cocked to one side and studying the older lady’s work intently.

  “Gracious,” Barbara breathed when she had finished. “Why, it’s lovely. Thank you so much.”

  “Just wait, there’s something more. I have a necklace; it’s been in the family for generations. It’s only right that you should have it now. I was meant to pass it on to a daughter, but luck would have it that I was only blessed with a son.”

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t.” Barbara said, turning around in a panic.

  “I must insist. It will mean everything to my son to see you wearing it when you walk down the aisle to him. Just allow me to…” She was rummaging around in the small purse she had brought into the room with her. “Now, where did I…Oh, silly me. You know what, I believe I’ve left it in the carriage. I will go and fetch it.”

  “I really—”

  But the Dowager Countess had already moved on. Now she was inspecting the powder and rouge on the vanity table and instructing Rosie not to apply too much.

&n
bsp; “He likes how she looks already, no need to gild the lily, eh? I shall return in just a moment.”

  Rosie nodded silently and then Barbara was having her nose powdered and rouge applied to her cheeks as the Dowager Countess slipped back out the door behind them.

  * * *

  Jeffrey was enjoying a cup of strong tea with his soon-to-be father in law and Barbara’s brother. The sisters were at the church already, and Jeffrey was acutely aware of the time. Soon he would have to leave for the church as well, there to wait for his bride.