The Earl Takes a Fancy

by Lorraine Heath

  “I’ve done what I’ve been hired to do. Simply make good use of the funds.” He gave a short bow before walking out.

  She sat there in silence for several long minutes before getting up, closing the door, and placing the money in her safe. Then she headed out into the shop. “I’m going to see my brother, Marianne. I shan’t be long.”

  “Very good, Miss Trewlove.”

  Once she entered the hotel, she charged up the stairs until she reached the top floor where Mick had his offices. She opened the glass door that had Trewlove etched in it and smiled as Mr. Tittlefitz came to his feet behind his desk while she stepped over the threshold. “Miss Trewlove, how may I be of service?”

  “Is my brother available?”

  “For you, miss, I’m certain he is.” He hurried over to the door that led into Mick’s inner sanctum, gave a brisk knock, shoved it open, and peered inside. “Your sister wishes an audience.”

  An audience? Good Lord, he acted as though her brother were a king. She couldn’t make out the words but heard the rumble of his voice. His secretary opened the door farther ajar and stepped back. After passing through the portal, she heard the door echo a quiet snick as it was closed in her wake.

  Mick was already standing. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I don’t think.” She approached the massive desk. “A solicitor just visited me. An anonymous person has donated five hundred pounds to my cause. I’m unsure what precisely to do with it.”

  With a loud and unflattering scoff, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You didn’t seem to have any trouble figuring out what to do with the money I gave you.”

  “That’s different. Your money comes in manageable increments and doesn’t make me feel guilty. But this—I don’t know who sent it. Did you mention my endeavors to anyone?”

  “Only in passing to an investor or two.”

  “Do you think it could have come from one of them?”

  He lifted a broad shoulder. “Possibly. What does it matter, Fancy? Besides, once you marry, you’ll be asking all sorts for contributions. You’ll have more donations than you’ll know what to do with. I’m certain some will be anonymous.”

  “Why? Why would he not want his contribution acknowledged?”

  “Perhaps he likes to do good deeds without credit. Or he worries if his generosity is known, others will hold out their hands. Accept the gift with gratitude.”

  “But I don’t know who to thank.”

  “If he wanted thanks, he’d have given you his name.”

  “I don’t suppose you can find out who he is.”

  “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t even if I could. On occasion I’ve done things for others in secret simply because I don’t want them feeling beholden to me. Perhaps he feels the same. But whatever his reasoning, it needs to be honored.”

  She sighed. He was right. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder about her mysterious benefactor. “Well, I suppose I should get back to the shop and determine how to make the most of the contribution I received.”

  “When you marry a lord of the realm, you’ll receive a good many more, I suspect. Moving about in that world will have grand advantages, Fancy.”

  Not if the man didn’t love her.

  “I remain optimistic, Mick, that I’ll find happiness there.” Approaching him, she gave him a hug. “Thank you.”

  That evening, when Fancy walked into the reading parlor to prepare it for the students’ arrival, she was surprised to find Matthew looking up at the painting above the fireplace. “Hello.”

  He turned and smiled at her, genuine pleasure reflected in his green, green eyes. “Hello.”

  It wasn’t that she was feeling off-kilter, but it seemed they should be greeting each other with a kiss or an embrace instead of this awkwardness. “I don’t have a ball to attend tonight.”

  “I know, but I enjoyed teaching the other night and thought you might welcome my assistance. I have nothing else pressing.”

  “I’d like that very much, and I’m fairly certain Lottie will as well.”

  He laughed. The joyous sound that vibrated from deep within him made her chest feel as though it were expanding to encompass the world. “Perhaps I could take the gents and you could take the ladies.”

  “I think that’s a rather splendid idea.” She eased up until the hem of her skirt touched the toes of his boots. “I’m glad you find these efforts worth your while.”

  “Maybe I’m just using it as an excuse to spend more time in your company.”

  “I’m glad of that as well.” Based upon the sudden warmth of her cheeks, she was fairly certain she was blushing. “The most astonishing thing happened this afternoon.”

  “Indeed?”

  “A solicitor came to see me on behalf of someone who wanted to make an anonymous donation to my lending library and other efforts. Five hundred pounds.”

  “How will you use it?”

  He said it so calmly as though it wasn’t an astronomical amount. “For books and slates and other supplies. I can hardly countenance that I have so much to work with. I’ve been striving to determine who could have been so generous.”

  “Perhaps you should simply accept your good fortune.”

  “I suppose you’re right. A fortune that is increasing because now I have another teacher.”

  A teacher who was proving to be a distraction. He’d taken the gents to a far corner, but still his voice carried to her ears whenever he spoke. It was as though she noticed every aspect of him. He sat forward, his elbows resting on his thighs, the primer clasped between his hands, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on reading along with Mr. Davidson.

  Matthew represented what she wanted in a husband. Someone who took an interest in the things that mattered to her. Someone who wanted to do more than spend time with her at balls, operas, and theater. Someone willing to give his time to improving the condition of others. Someone who looked up from his book and captured her gaze as unerringly as Robin Hood’s arrow hit its target—at least according to the serials about his adventures that her brothers had read her. It seemed she would never tire of the intensity with which Matthew observed her. Even though across the room, she felt as though he were beside her.

  When the lessons ended, she felt a twinge of jealousy when Lottie sauntered over to Matthew and trailed her hand up his arm. He said something to her, and her throaty laugher echoed throughout the room. Fancy was tempted to grab the woman by the hair and pull her into the hallway—or at least inform her that she was no longer welcome to take classes here. But she wasn’t going to be as petty as all that. Lottie was striving to better herself. Fancy needed to respect that.

  “If it’s any consolation, she was flirting with me earlier.”

  With a huffed laugh, she turned to Mr. Tittlefitz. “Why would I care if she’s flirting?”

  “I don’t think you care that she’s flirting. I think you care with whom she’s flirting.”

  “I have no claim to him.”

  He gave her a pointed look that indicated perhaps he knew that she wanted to have such a claim. But she wasn’t at all certain how her family would feel about him. If only she didn’t love them so much.

  “I didn’t realize he was going to be helping out on the nights you are available,” he said.

  “Neither did I, but I think it worked well and each of the students had more time to read aloud.”

  He nodded. “Well, I’d best be off. I promised to walk Marianne home again.”

  She smiled. “Thank you for that. I worry about her less when she’s in your care.”

  As always, when receiving any sort of compliment, he blushed. “I enjoy talking with her. She makes me laugh.”

  She felt the tiniest of tightenings in her chest. “Does she?”

  His blush darkened. “I mustn’t keep her waiting. I’ll see to things Wednesday when you’re not here.”

  Watching him go, she sensed a shift in the air around her and knew Matthew was now at her side. S
werving her attention over to him, she realized they were alone in the room, that Lottie had disappeared. “Lottie seems to be taken with you.”

  “She’s taken with all men whom she judges to have a few coins in their pockets.”

  “I have the impression you have more than a few.”

  “I have enough to see me in good stead.” His gaze roamed over her face and she wondered if he wished it was his fingers taking the journey. She certainly wouldn’t have minded. “I didn’t hear you ask Tittlefitz to escort Marianne home.”

  “He’d already informed me that it was his intention to do so.”

  “Your matchmaking may be bearing fruit.”

  She tilted her nose up in the air as haughtily as possible. “I am feeling somewhat satisfied that my efforts are going well.”

  “I suppose you’ll focus on your own matchmaking now.”

  Running her tongue over her lips, she took gratification when his gaze dipped to her mouth. “The next ball is Wednesday. After having two gentlemen and three ladies call on me, I’m not dreading it as much as I might have. It could be fun.”

  “Avoid going for turns about the garden.”

  “Do you think a gentleman would take advantage?”

  “He might.”

  “We’re alone now and you’re not.”

  “But I want to, and because I do, I’m going to bid you good night.”

  “Where I’m concerned you don’t have to be so honorable.”

  “Lords set high standards for the women they want to marry.”

  And if she decided she didn’t want to marry a lord? She didn’t pose the question to him. Just because he was drawn to her, wanted to kiss her, didn’t mean he wished to marry her. Perhaps she was in danger of following her romantically inclined heart toward a man who saw her as only a woman to bed, not wed. “As well they should. Still, where’s the harm in a kiss?”

  Lifting up on her toes, she placed her hand at the back of his head and took his mouth as though it was her right to do so. He responded in kind, cradling her in one arm, bending her over slightly, bettering the angle so the kiss deepened. She had a strong urge to ask him to go to the ball, wait for her in the garden. She could join him there so he could ravish her—but in such a way that when she returned to the ballroom no one would be the wiser.

  She couldn’t imagine anyone else kissing her like this, with so much passion and yearning, giving so much of himself to the endeavor. His groans mingled with her sighs, creating the perfect music for a waltz. She feared having waltzed with him in her shop, he had spoiled her for waltzing in a ballroom. Would she be able to dance with any other gentleman and not be able to reminisce about how wondrous it had been to dance within his arms?

  At her first ball, she’d been comparing other men to him, but now she had so much more to compare. Punting, a picnic, the taste of wine on his tongue. The taste of scotch. The taste of him, dark and rich and so very flavorful. She might even be detecting a hint of toffee. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling with that thought.

  He drew back, his eyes heated by passion and desire. “What do you find so humorous?”

  “I think you ate a toffee earlier.”

  “You’ve gotten me addicted to the damn things, and I can’t have one without thinking of all the sensual movements of your mouth while you suck on one.”

  “I enjoy sucking sweets.”

  “Ah, Christ.” His growl echoed around her, his hold on her loosening so quickly she nearly lost her balance. He took two steps back, then two more. “I have to leave now before I convince myself that you know exactly what image your words were going to create in my mind.”

  Her words had been spoken with all innocence, but his reaction now had her remembering how he’d suckled at her breast and she wondered if she could bring him pleasure in the same manner. “Are there parts of you to suck?”

  “God, Fancy.” He spun on his heel and headed for the doorway.

  “Have I offended you?”

  “No, but you have reminded me how innocent you are.”

  She hurried after him as he descended the stairs. “Did Lottie offer to suck something for you?”

  He spun around so fast, she nearly ran into him and sent them both tumbling down the stairs. Narrowing his eyes, he studied her for a full minute before saying, “She did as a matter of fact.”

  “Will you go to her now?”

  His gaze grew soft as he tucked his bent finger beneath her chin and stroked his thumb over her lips. “No.”

  “She made you laugh.”

  “She said something funny. I can’t even remember what it was now. But I remember every word you’ve ever spoken to me.”

  As though he hadn’t just captured a corner of her heart, he continued on down the stairs. She hastened to catch up, but his legs were so much longer that she arrived at the foot of the stairs just in time to hear the door snicking back into place. After turning the lock, she lowered the light and fairly floated up the stairs. Sometimes he would say the most touching things, almost poetic in their simplicity.

  After changing into her nightgown, she took her book from the table beside her bed, walked to the window and pulled the draperies aside, smiling at the sight of Matthew, a shadow surrounded by light in the window across the way. Settling onto the bench, bringing her feet up, and adjusting the pillows behind her back, she opened her book, pretending to give it attention while peering to the side over at him.

  As he had the other night, he dragged a chair over, sat, and held an open book at eye level.

  With a sigh of happiness, she began to read, feeling as though they weren’t separated by a mews but were together in the same room, or at least the same world. It was calming and peaceful, something she’d miss when she no longer lived here.

  Chapter 18

  She had just moved beyond the Duke and Duchess of Hedley after greeting them and thanking them for hosting the ball and including her when she spotted Aiden and Finn, along with their wives, waiting for her. Mick and Aslyn were still conversing with the duke and duchess.

  “You’re here early. I didn’t expect to see you until at least half ten,” she teased as each brother leaned in and brushed a feathery light kiss across her cheek.

  “We wanted to catch you as soon as possible, before the gents started asking you for dances,” Aiden said. “We’ve let it be known no further incentives from the Trewlove brothers are to be had.”

  “Thank you. I truly appreciate it, although you’re far more optimistic about gents asking me to dance than I am.” Still, she was relatively certain Lord Beresford and Mr. Whitley would sign her dance card.

  “I have a reason to be optimistic. Regarding the offer I made the gents at the last ball . . . You should know three of them told me not to tear up their vowels. Seemed they enjoyed dancing with you.”

  A spark of joy swept through her. “Truly?”

  “I told you that once they spent time with you—”

  “But that wasn’t the way to make it come about.”

  “I’ll concede your point.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a folded scrap of parchment. “The names, in case you wanted to look at them more favorably.”

  She clutched it in her hand, unable to stop her broad smile. “Oh, Aiden, I do believe you’ve made my night.”

  “Don’t give him too much credit,” Finn said with a grin. “It’ll go to his head. I’ll let you know if anyone takes me up on my offer so you can look at them unfavorably.”

  “No one has taken you up on the offer regarding horses and breeding?”

  “Not so far.”

  “Looks like some good news is being shared here,” Mick said as he and Aslyn joined the group.

  “It seems not all the gents are collecting on the offers made last week,” she told him. “Has anyone come to you for advice?”

  “A couple of gents did.” He shrugged. “But they are already married. I should have put a few stipulations on who I was willing to a
ssist.”

  “Are we having a family gathering?” Gillie asked as she and Thornley entered their circle.

  Fancy explained the news her brothers had shared.

  “That’s jolly good to hear, although I had confidence in you and knew you wouldn’t need the bribes,” Gillie said.

  “I appreciate your faith.”

  “Hand over your card, let us claim our dances,” Mick said.

  “No.” She gave them a gentle smile to lessen the harshness of her decision. “I’m not dancing with anyone tonight to whom I’m related. I’ll make exceptions for your friends or your families”—she looked at each of her siblings’ spouses—“but I’m not dancing with you four gents. I’m quite certain I’m going to need those dances for other gentlemen.”

  Gillie gave her a hug. “I like your confidence.”

  Taking a deep breath, she slowly released it. “Let’s see how long I can maintain it.”

  To her surprise, it wasn’t at all difficult to maintain her confidence. Once her family wandered off, gentlemen began to approach her and within five minutes she had half a dozen dances claimed. She’d even been introduced to two lords who had not attended Gillie’s ball.

  The Marquess of Wilbourne was the first to take her on a turn about the dance floor. She was grateful for the waltz because it allowed them to speak more intimately. She told him about her bookshop and her efforts to teach adults to read. “An investment in the future.” She didn’t ask for a donation. Instead she asked his opinion on how she might expand her programs, where he thought she might have success teaching in other areas of London.

  She gave her undivided attention to each lord who asked her for a dance. One gentleman was silver-haired and slightly bent over, a walking stick propping him up. Rather than sweep her over the floor, he barely moved her from the spot where they’d begun, but when the tune drifted into silence, he patted her hand. “I’d heard you were a delight, Miss Trewlove. Thank you for indulging an old relic.”

  She smiled warmly. “It was my pleasure, Your Grace.”

  “Ah, if I were but forty years younger.”