Romancing the Earl Read online

  “Good. We’re done here.”

  Price refocused his gaze, noticing his party had shrunk down to just three. “Where’s Sullivan?”

  “Gone off hours ago,” Scarsdale, a lanky man of similar age, said with a scowl. “You know he disapproves of these places.”

  “He could just drink like I do and ignore the rest,” Price suggested.

  “No one drinks the way you do and hopes to live very long,” Wharton complained. He got hold of Price under the arm and hauled him up to his feet. “Good grief, you’re heavier than you appear.”

  Price wobbled a bit as he straightened his coat and tugged down his waistcoat. “I didn’t need help.”

  Wharton scowled. “You certainly do need someone’s help.”

  “Come on,” Scarsdale said as he grabbed Price by his other arm, and the three of them weaved their way toward the entrance hall and the newly rising sun outside.

  Price stumbled into the carriage, taking up one whole bench while his friends sat side by side opposite him. He ran a hand over his jaw, covering a yawn and the beard he’d grown since he’d stopped caring about trying to impress society.

  “You’ll ruin yourself with the drink, you know,” Wharton started before they’d gone too far along. “And that beard has to go soon.”

  Price shrugged away the criticism. “What does it matter what I look like to you?”

  “Well, the ladies don’t much care for beards, I’ve noticed.”

  He grabbed the bench as the carriage lurched into motion. “I’m not interested in women.”

  “You can’t be in mourning forever,” Wharton protested. “You weren’t even engaged to the girl. It’s been months now. Time to look to the future.”

  “I’ll never love another,” Price warned, wishing his friend would understand and quit pestering him about Angela. He knew the state of his own heart.

  Scarsdale laughed softly. “Who’s talking about love?”

  Wharton silenced Scarsdale and sat forward. “Listen, I understand what you’re doing, but Angela Berry wasn’t the only pretty woman in society who could have made you a good wife. There are many keen to catch your notice. Why, just the other day, I heard a pair of ladies speaking of you.”

  “Indeed.” Price shifted in his seat. “Protesting that I could hardly have suspected my godmother was a murderess, I suppose.”

  Wharton nodded. “No one blames you.”

  “No one talks about anything else. That is why I started avoiding certain hostesses and still do. The ones who leap to my defense are the worst because they never let the matter rest. I’d rather be alone.”

  Wharton sighed. “Surely there’s something better than spending every night of your life in this state.”

  “I’m not a drunk,” Price promised.

  “No. No. But you are not acting like the man we admired,” Scarsdale complained. “First month after Angela died, you hardly ate, then you dine lavishly every night as if it was your last meal, and now you’re drinking constantly and moping.”

  “You forgot the month he could not stand to be still,” Wharton complained. “Damned if I had the stamina to keep up with him.”

  “The point is, you can’t keep this up much longer without it affecting your health. It’s time to put your grief aside and think of the future.”

  Price scowled at them. “You are trying to marry me off.”

  “He means you should live as you did before. As a gentleman. As the earl you were before Angela died,” Wharton said. “You used to be fun to be around. Reliable. You have responsibilities. You were a voice in the House of Lords once. People looked to you to know how to vote.”

  “How dull that sounds.”

  “And you must marry, too,” Scarsdale noted. “We have to face that at some point, don’t we?”

  Wharton nodded emphatically. “If you want the best, to make your own choice rather than stumble into a situation not of your own making, you’d better face the world clear-headed.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “We can’t always be watching out for you. As drunk as you are, you’d be an easy fellow to capture by a husband-hunting shrew.”

  “I had the best,” Price promised, thinking of sweet, perfect Angela. The love of his life. They would have been happy together. He’d lost that hope for the future, and he couldn’t imagine making love to someone else.

  “So you can’t have her. Just pick any woman you can tolerate and marry them. At least then, we can stop worrying that some woman is going to trap you and make your life even more miserable than it already is.”

  Price sighed deeply. His friends had a point. He’d loved Angela with all his heart, and the chances of feeling that way again were remote. He’d be wise to take matters into his own hands eventually. “I suppose there is no sense in delaying anymore.”

  Wharton slapped his knee. “Just make sure she’s a pretty face, and you’ll be fine when it comes time to bed her.”

  “She’ll need a dowry and impeccable connections,” Scarsdale added.

  Money wasn’t a driving need for Price. He’d wealth enough to value other qualities. “Discretion. Kindness. Loyalty,” he murmured. “A lady who doesn’t demand the world be given to them.”

  Scarsdale burst out laughing. “Is there any lady you know who doesn’t have their own agenda when they choose a husband? They all want something from us.”

  “Usually they want a man with the highest title,” Wharton added. “Thankfully the Earl of Carmichael was a popular devil, and will be again. Still, it is a tricky proposition, choosing the right wife from within the ton. There are definite advantages to taking the reins early.”

  Price held Wharton’s stare. “What do you know about courtship or marriage?”

  “Not much, but I’ve never dismissed the idea out of hand the way you have been lately.” Wharton leaned forward suddenly. “Would Angela really expect you to live your whole life alone?”

  Price stilled, and thankfully saw that the carriage was drawing up to his home. He got out before he had to answer Wharton and only said goodbye.

  Love might be out of the question for him, but he was expected to marry, unfortunately, for the sake of the title. He had a duty, and Angela would have understood that, too. She’d been like many women in the ton. She’d had her pick of the field, and had chosen him, an earl she’d fallen in love with.

  There was no lady Price knew who could equal her in the ton. Any marriage he made would have to be an arrangement. Since adoration was no longer a factor, he was free to marry anyone he chose, as long as they never expected him to fall in love.

  Chapter 2

  “Lady Kelly!” Lenore Griffin cried out in terror as the phaeton she was traveling in veered wildly toward the pavement, where innocent townsfolk could be trampled.

  She shut her eyes instinctively until she finally felt the phaeton jerk, and then slow. Cautiously, she risked a peek at where they were, and then glanced to the far side of the seat.

  Lord Thorne, her employer’s new beau, had the reins in hand now, and Lady Kelly was grinning. “I was getting the hang of it,” she promised.

  “You did admirably for a first go, my dear lady,” Lord Thorne enthused. “It is my turn now. It is a true honor to drive you and your companion about Town.”

  Lenore leaned forward. “I do appreciate it.”

  It may have been disloyal to her employer to prefer Lord Thorne’s skill at the reins, but Lenore had one life, and she was truly quite fond of living it. She felt infinitely safer with Lady Kelly’s beau driving them about instead of her recently erratically behaved employer.

  Lady Kelly gave Lenore a quelling look, and Lenore quickly stared straight ahead again, shrinking into her seat a little. Lady Kelly, an at-first-glance respectable pillar of their small community, had been giving Lenore that look ever since Lord Thorne had started coming around. The lady had started acting more boldly, too, and had become less concerned with the happiness of others, especiall
y those in her employ. Why, just last week, she had slapped a maid because of a harmless remark about needing to let out a seam in Lady Kelly’s best gown.

  Lord Thorne had been courting Lady Kelly for a few months now, and this wasn’t the first time she had done something reckless in his company. Was the lady trying to impress him with her daring so he would think her more appealing?

  Lady Kelly was the latest in a long line of demanding employers who expected their companions to meet high standards of deportment and agreeableness at all times. Lenore found that last expectation the hardest to meet. Lady Kelly was exceedingly contrary in conversation. Lenore never quite knew which opinion she wanted to hear agreed with first.

  But Lenore had grown comfortable with the baron, and she expected a match to be made any day now. An older man, Lord Thorne had deep pockets, impeccable connections and spoke intelligently on any number of topics. He had no vices Lady Kelly disapproved of. Although experience had shown Lenore that gentlemen were not to be relied upon in general, especially men courting her wealthy employers, she felt his addresses were sincere. He seemed quite determined to make a good impression with all of Lady Kelly’s friends, too.

  When it came right down to it, all that mattered was that he made Lady Kelly happy. Lenore had already started discreetly considering where she might find a new situation for herself. There were not many women in need of companionship in the village so she had taken to reading the newssheet for opportunities farther afield.

  However, Lenore was not at all desperate that she might be cast out straight away. She had built up a little money of her own for just such situations, and those funds would support her for a few months should she fail to find a new situation immediately.

  Lord Thorne and Lady Kelly exchanged a loving look as he explained the difficulty of handling his high-spirited team as they drove along. Lenore kept her gaze forward, wishing she could make herself disappear rather than hear them fall in love.

  Lenore’s whole life had revolved around making herself invisible. First as a child and later as a companion. Keeping her employers calm and happy had always been her goal. She couldn’t have refused to take this drive with them even if she’d wanted to.

  “I received a letter from my elder sister, Lady Bedwell, today,” Lord Thorne announced. “She has invited me to spend Christmas with her in Cornwall.”

  Lenore had not met this particular sister of Lord Thorne’s, but she’d heard much about the woman over tea in the drawing room. The lady had practically raised Lord Thorne in the place of a mother, he’d said, and she was essential to please, Lady Kelly had confided to Lenore later.

  Lady Kelly gasped. “You wouldn’t really go away so soon, would you?”

  “I’m not sure I can refuse. She has been very good to me through the years, and she’s all alone now since her husband passed. I fear she’s become lonely.”

  “We’d be lonely without you, too.” Lady Kelly blushed. “Wouldn’t we, Lenore?”

  Lenore made a sound of consent because Lady Kelly had been much happier these past months with Lord Thorne around. She dreaded the tears that would flow on the day of his departure. Lady Kelly was an emotional creature. It was Lenore’s job to listen to her woes, sympathize and bring her cool cloths to soothe her puffy eyes. But Lord Thorne’s consideration of the feelings of his female relations only improved her opinion of his character as a contender for Lady Kelly’s hand.

  Lenore leaned forward. “She must miss her husband terribly.”

  “Indeed, she does.” Lord Thorne’s smile fell upon Lenore. “Never fear, I won’t have to make any decision for a week or so yet.”

  Lady Kelly fell silent, but she had her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked ahead. That was never a good sign. Lenore could almost hear her worrying about spending Christmas alone without him.

  He smiled. “Did you have any plans for the coming holiday, Lady Kelly?”

  “None.” She sighed. “We’ll most likely stay home, as we always do.”

  Lenore had been with Lady Kelly for almost a year but had spent the last three years in the area. Three dull and uneventful Christmases spent looking out at white nothingness with only old women for company. The prospect of another year of it lowered her spirits.

  “Ah,” he murmured. “Your home is quite a lovely, quiet little place.”

  “It is,” Lady Kelly agreed. “However, I have for some time been considering a holiday, too.”

  Lenore was surprised by that. Lenore’s last employer had claimed Lady Kelly had put down roots and settled like a pig in mud. Until Lord Thorne had started coming around, Lady Kelly’s only interest had been in criticizing the behavior of her nearest neighbors. But the prospects of travel to new surroundings appealed to Lenore very much.

  She risked asking a question. “What is Christmas like in Cornwall?”

  “Dull and gloomy,” he answered with a grin. “But my sister sets a good table, and there’s the shooting, of course. She entertains often.”

  “I suppose you’ve many friends there?” Lady Kelly asked in a worried voice.

  “Some, but none as lovely as you,” he promised grinning down at Lady Kelly. His gaze flickered to Lenore, and she blushed and looked away quickly. She shouldn’t have noticed their affectionate exchange.

  Lenore stifled a sigh. How long before he proposed marriage? She wished there was some way to know when it would occur before her need for new employment, and a roof over her head, became immediately pressing.

  She was very glad when he turned the carriage for home at last and she could escape the close confines with the prospective couple.

  “Home” was almost a little farm, with cows in the green meadows, chickens scratching about in the garden, and a few servants in the fields picking fruit in the orchard. The land had belonged to Lady Kelly’s late husband’s family, though a neighbor had taken over the managing of most of it recently.

  It had a pretty patch of grass to one side of the main house, in which they sat on warmer days, watching the clouds scuttle by overheard and allowing Lenore’s dog, her best friend in the world, run about herding the chickens.

  When the weather was drear, they sat inside in the study and read anything in the lady’s small library, or simply stared out at nothing.

  At the house, a gardener rushed out to hold the horses of the fine phaeton. Lord Thorne climbed down, turned to help Lady Kelly, and then, to her surprise, offered to help Lenore down, too.

  His fingers were firm around her waist, and she floated to earth with a soft laugh and breathless thank you. That was all the adventure she ever got in her life.

  She followed them inside, taking Lady Kelly’s bonnet and shawl when it was handed to her. Lady Kelly turned for the drawing room on Lord Thorne’s arm, and Lenore was relieved to see the back of them. “Miss Griffin, please have tea brought into the drawing room,” Lady Kelly called over her shoulder.

  Lenore curtsied. “Yes, my lady.”

  “And fetch me my summer shawl, too.”

  “I’ll return as quick as I can,” she promised without meaning a word.

  As Lady Kelly was a widow, and did not technically require a chaperone, there was no impropriety for her to entertain Lord Thorne alone in her own drawing room for a little while. Perhaps while Lenore was gone, Lady Kelly might be proposed to.

  Lenore refolded the shawl she’d been given and turned for the stairs.

  A heavy step sounded behind her. “Wait a moment, Miss Griffin.”

  She turned in surprise. “Lord Thorne?”

  “Might I have a word in private?”

  A movement caught her eye, and she saw a footman had come into the hall, holding letters against his chest. He signaled her that he would wait in a nearby room until she was finished with her conversation.

  “Yes, of course,” she agreed, looking up at him. “What can I do for you?”

  Lord Thorne gestured her toward a shadowed corner beneath the staircase. Lenore hesitated, but
then dismissed her concern about any impropriety. Lord Thorne was a gentleman, and it was very clear that his sole focus was courting Lady Kelly. There could be no harm in his request, surely.

  “I wonder if I might have the comfort of your opinion,” he whispered.

  “On what, my lord?”

  He drew closer, his lips curving into a smile. “You’re a very unusual companion with strong opinions.”

  Compliments usually unsettled Lenore, but she reveled in this one. She preferred to know how people saw her. She hated when people assumed she hadn’t any wits or her own opinions. “Thank you,” she answered. “What do you need my opinion on today?”

  “I have a gift. I was hoping to hear your thoughts about its suitability.” From his pocket, he removed a long gold chain with a locket hanging from it.

  Lenore lifted the piece to look at it better. She thought it very nice, but doubted Lady Kelly would consider it worthy of her. Lenore wondered how to delicately dissuade him from offering it to her employer. Lady Kelly possessed a small collection of beautiful gold and gemstone pieces upstairs. This necklace hardly compared. She would rather not have him embarrassed when it could be rejected outright. “I suppose this is for a niece of yours for Christmas?”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I like it quite well,” she hastened to assure him. “Very pretty for a young woman to wear.” As a companion, she had no jewelry. She was never meant to outshine her employer in any way or draw attention to herself. Lenore wore restrained gowns in colors that did not dazzle anyone and kept her hair neat and tidy. Thankfully, she did not have a disposition that coveted her employers’ possessions.

  “Good,” he said, stepping back. Lenore held the necklace out to him but he shook his head. “Keep it.”

  The hair at her nape started to prickle, and she held it out farther from her body. “I cannot accept a gift from you. Take it back, please.”

  His eyes twinkled. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy all the delights Cornwall has to offer as much as your employer.”

  She stilled. “What do you mean?”