To Catch the Candid Earl: Regency Historical Romance

by Eleanor Keating

  Needing to unburden her chest of the information, Lucy called, "Come over here for a second, Caroline. I have something of great importance to share with you." Her friend and lady's maid was busy putting away gowns scattered around the bedchamber; a chore Lucy had tried to stop her from doing on many occasions without success. Caroline took pride in her job, and planned to do it; Lucy had no choice but to get used to it.

  Draping a gray gown enhanced with tulle which Lucy had spent the night working on over the back of chair; the maid hurried to her and seated herself by the edge of the bed.

  "Are you ready to talk about what's got you snappish since last noon?" she asked bluntly, smoothing a lock of hair escaped from Lucy's bonnet.

  Lucy smarted. She probably deserved that from the way she'd spoken rudely at Caroline after emerging from the parlor yesterday in the wake of Edmund's revelation.

  "Do not be upset about my tone, dear girl, for there was good reason why my mood was dark and cloudy," she said and patted her friend's work-roughened hands.

  Caroline waited, expectant.

  "Apparently, the matter of the wager between the earl and Viscount Hilgrove is more complicated and twisted than we originally thought."

  "Complicated and twisted? Does that mean he isn't courting Lady Mary anymore?" Caroline looked confused.

  "Far from it, Caroline. Lady Mary is a pawn in this entire business." Lucy felt the familiar anger bubbling up again, and struggled to hold it at bay.

  "I learnt from Edmund yesterday, that the viscount plans to divorce Lady Mary after a month of their union, right after he's accessed her dowry and paid the debt owed to the earl."

  "Oh, dear God!" The maid's eyes were round in shock and she clutched her hands over her mouth.

  "And that isn't all," Lucy continued in a harsh brittle tone. "He plans to do this by accusing her of adultery, which the earl plans to help him carry out, and is using poor Edmund to handle everything."

  Remembering the distress on the solicitor's face while he'd told her the details of the ungodly plan, Lucy wished she could have done something. Held his hands; said something to ease his worries, instead of pacing in agitation.

  The protectiveness she'd felt towards Edmund had resurfaced, along with the unacceptable feelings growing in her heart for him right in the middle of their conversation. She hadn't bothered shoving it into the place where impossible things lay in her head.

  It was just a crying shame that she'd expressed her anger quite vehemently, giving him the impression she didn't approve of his actions, when in fact, he was the one stuck in a dilemma.

  "This is quite dreadful. Whatever will Edmund do?" Caroline asked

  Lucy shook her head doubtfully, as she fiddled with the pen on the escritoire. "Frankly, I have no idea. He is well and truly stuck. That dreadful earl! If Edmund refuses to carry on with the plan and defies the earl, then he would be out of a job and, judging from the kind of person his lordship is, I doubt he'd find another one soon."

  "This is quite a pickle. If he wants to keep his job, then the poor fellow has no choice but to go along with the earl's appalling plans. I feel sorry for him; the gentle, kind man," came Caroline's unhappy reply.

  Lucy felt instantly saddened, and met the maid's sombre gaze. "I think I must have sounded accusatory and blaming when we spoke yesterday. I wish I could have restrained my tongue. Edmund is a dear, sweet man who has unfortunately been trapped into doing something so immoral."

  Caroline turned from picking up a discarded chemise lying on the bed and smiled at Lucy, warming her heart.

  "Do not worry your poor head, Miss Lucy. You were upset about the entire affair and it was expected for a few words to be sharp. I'm sure when next he comes to the house; you'll find a chance to speak to him."

  Lucy sat up with resolve. "Without hesitation, Caroline. There is something pure and untouched about Edmund, a strong sense of humanity, and the idea of doing this must certainly be creating all sorts of knots inside him." Her tone was soft, and she didn't miss the mischievous look that stole into the maid's eyes.

  "Miss Lucy, you sound almost enamoured of our Mr. Swinton. Tell me; are you still ardent about denying your feelings for him?"

  Lucy blushed to the roots of her hair and she swatted Caroline who broke out in musical laughter, eyes sparking with mirth.

  "Hush, girl. Edmund is a gentle soul and I have no designs to hook him into marriage. I haven't changed my mind about wanting a titled man and a home similar to this, don't forget that." Lucy spoke strongly, and picked up the pen to fill in the last two names, at the bottom of her pocketbook, on the single paper bearing the Langford seal.

  When her words elicited no response, she turned her head to see Caroline staring at her thoughtfully.

  "What is it, Caroline? You know I'm quite serious about my dreams of surpassing this state."

  Caroline smiled suddenly and continued in the task of folding the chemise. "You've hardly talked about anything else, so I have sufficient knowledge. You know I wish you the best fortunes, Miss Lucy, but I won't refrain from doling out my advice once in a while."

  Filled with lovingness, which only Caroline and Miss Agnes made her feel, Lucy dropped the pen and got up to hug her friend who looked surprised but soon leaned into it.

  When they separated, Lucy thought about Lady Mary as she picked up the guest list leather-bound book. "I feel sorry too for Lady Mary in this entire affair. She might have her flaws, but she doesn't deserve this. No one does."

  Caroline scoffed as she put away the chemise in a drawer, along with the gown abandoned earlier on the chair back. Her friend apparently had other impolite opinions about the society belle's impending disaster of a marriage, but refused to say a word as they left the room together to find Wilson, the butler.

  Just as they descended to the foot of the stairs, the doorway to the house was pulled opened by Fergus, who ushered in no one other than Viscount Hilgrove himself.

  Chapter Eleven

  As the sounds of voices from the front room drew closer, Lucy emerged from the library and quietly closed the door, before tiptoeing down the hallway as quietly as possible.

  Her heart was beating so fast that it threatened to fly out of her chest, but she was determined to find out anything she could about the earl and Viscount Hilgrove's plans.

  Upon sighting the viscount minutes ago, she'd made her way to the library, avoiding his gaze lest he saw the displeasure written plainly in hers. Even though he was a blackguard and an unscrupulous person, his character had done nothing to dim his handsomeness and charm; and Lucy hadn't failed to notice the clean cut of his brown pantaloons tucked into sharp Hessian boots, or his impeccably arranged cravat which complemented his entire assemble.

  Viscount Hilgrove knew how to clean up quite nicely, and she was certain it was among the things that attracted the ladies to him like bees to nectar.

  Earlier, while speaking to Caroline, Lucy had made a decision to find out as much as she could about the earl's plans and modes of execution. Then she'd take some time to think how best to warn Lady Mary and put an end to the whole thing.

  She was aware of the fact that one slip up, and everything could come crashing down around her. It'll be pig grease and dirty laundry for me again, if I make a mistake now, she thought glumly. She could barely stomach the thought of such a terrible outcome. Yet her conscience wouldn't allow her to pretend nothing was happening.

  No matter how much she didn't like the lady in question, she was well aware of what something that horrendous could do to her.

  Judging by the tremendous success she'd had since coming out last season, Lucy was convinced that such a scandal might cause the lady to do something as drastic and final as taking her own life.

  Lucy didn't think she could live with herself, knowing that she was aware of everything and had done nothing to stop it.

  I just have to think deeply and come up with a way to handle everything without incurring suspicions on my person, Luc
y thought resolutely as she walked down the hallway.

  The thick red carpet swallowed the soft taps of her satin slippers, and few steps away from the front room, she stopped and fished out a long hair pin from her hair.

  She clasped it safely in her palm, ready to be dropped at the first sign of anyone appearing in the hallway, so that if she were found lingering in the hallway, she could bend and search for it.

  She had to be very careful, and avoid being suspected or caught by any other servant, since Caroline had been made to return to her duties, which had doubled considerably with the dinner just two days away.

  The chink of glasses drifted to Lucy where she stood, and she heard muffled laughter. They were talking now, but the words were inaudible and moving any further could jeopardize her entire mission of spying on the men. She couldn't risk neither that possibility nor the butler surfacing suddenly from behind, nor leave herself in the open space of the stairwell which could mean being exposed to scrutiny.

  But standing where she currently did prevented her from hearing what was being discussed, and Lucy realized that she had to make the bold choice of going further.

  I want to help Edmund, I really do. I might learn something from the conversation between the men that could be crucial in defusing the entire business before it gets worse.

  With that decided, Lucy took two more hesitant steps further, leaning with her back to the wall, so she could see from either side should anyone appear.

  The turn that led to the front room was just two steps away; the words drifted effortlessly to her, and so did the bursts of humourless laughter.

  "Trust me, Hilgrove. I intend to own total possession of the Betty Ann, and all of its merchant holdings, in less than a week, and nothing is going to stop me from doing so." The earl's quietly determined voice was followed by a small cough.

  "What about Thornton? He is known to be a fierce businessman, and isn't lax when it comes to anything to do with his precious ship." Viscount Hilgrove sounded doubtful.

  The earl's chilling laughter crept up Lucy's spine and she questioned her sanity.

  She couldn't possibly be thinking of finding a way to thwart this man's plans to get his money, could she?

  She was nobody, currently living a life of pretence, and dangling precariously on the edge. If Lord Langford ever caught her, she would end up being nothing but charred toast.

  Is a privileged haughty miss, who's never had to endure a life of penury or known any form of hardship, worth losing my dreams and desire for? Not really, though I do feel such sympathy for her. Then why am I doing this? Edmund's troubled face flashed through her mind, and she took a deep breath and leaned closer to the door.

  "I've always told you, friend. Everyone has a price." The earl's rejoinder at that moment distracted Lucy from her tormenting thoughts.

  "Everyone can be bought with enough of the right incentive. I've taken my time to study Thornton over the years, and we unfortunately share similar characteristic traits, which makes me hold some fondness for the man."

  Lucy heard the sound of brandy being poured into a snifter, before Viscount Hilgrove's response.

  "Then why don't you consider going into business with him, Langford? It seems to be making him a vast sum of money, and being an investor could set you up for a long time."

  "That's what you don't understand yet, Hilgrove. I thought you'd been around me enough to realize that things don't work like that. Some things cannot be easily gained, lest they easily slip away. As I told my solicitor the other day, when he suggested a different approach to getting the money you need to settle your debts."

  Viscount Hilgrove laughed bringing his snifter down hard on the table.

  "What did he suggest? I approach her and ask for the money?"

  There were no traces of scorn in his words, which created confusion in Lucy because she would have expected it. But the question had been asked in a serious tone, and if it had been a jest, she'd missed the joke.

  "The suggestions of that impressionable straitlaced man would not have mattered. Things will go according to the plan, and he has successfully found me two hangers-on who are willing to send the letters to their various locations on demand. You just have to proceed with courting Lady Mary, to set the ball in motion."

  Lucy waited for a response from the viscount, but it was almost a minute before it came.

  "I wish the courtship could be faster, but she seems intent on spending more time figuring me out, which is quite tedious and uncomfortable. I would rather for the whole affair to be over and done with, so I could go on with my life."

  "You realize you have to treat this with extreme caution to avoid blowing it, Hilgrove? A hundred thousand pounds isn't a couple of shillings, and you know I hate to lose money."

  Was there a threatening, menacing edge she heard in the earl's tone?

  The sound of a door being shut upstairs prompted Lucy to abandon her spot by the wall, and hurry to take the stairs, coming face to face with Lady Agnes's personal maid, Lizbeth.

  "Excuse me, Miss Lucy. Her ladyship needs you in her bedchambers."

  "Thank you, Lizbeth," Lucy replied, and followed right behind the girl.

  The conversation she'd just overheard unsettled her in more ways than one. Particularly, the way the viscount had sounded. The money he owed the earl was enormous, and she could understand his anxious need to see it all settled, but that hadn't been what struck Lucy as odd.

  He hadn't sounded like he enjoyed the situation or the thing he needed to do. She hadn't been in the room to see his face. For all she knew, he could have been wearing a smug smirk the entire time he'd been speaking to Lord Langford, but something disabused that notion in Lucy's head.

  There was a high chance the viscount wasn't interested in ruining Lady Mary but more concerned about the earl's actions if he couldn't pay up his debt.

  It sounded most logical in Lucy's head and for a moment, she felt sorry for all of them: Edmund, Lady Mary, and even the viscount for they were pawns and victims of the mad earl's greed.

  Chapter Twelve

  "Bloody hell!" Edmund cursed as a sharp streak of morning sunlight pierced his eyes immediately after he managed to force them open, accentuating the rhythmic pounding in his head. He closed them hurriedly, but not before seeing the damnable grin on the face of his housemate, Peter Shelbroke.

  The bastard was pulling all the curtains open and having a good time while at it.

  Edmund lifted his hand to rub his eyes and tried to open them again, this time slowly and cautiously as he adjusted to the sunlight which had dulled to a steady pinprick on his pupils.

  "Why, Shelbroke. You seem to be taking delight in a chore as simple as opening the curtains, or might I presume you're no doubt enjoying my sufferings at the moment?"

  Peter tucked the folds of the curtain he held behind a hook and turned to him.

  "Why, Swinton. I haven't even seen you so hammered, so allow a man have his fun, won't you? Tell me what happened last night. If not for my quick reflexes, I reckon you'd have fallen flat on your face when you came in staggering drunk."

  Edmund sat up gently, careful not to make a sudden movement less the pounding resume at a full crescendo.

  He couldn't believe he'd passed the night on the small couch in the front parlor where he and Peter took visitors and doing nothing more but removing his boots and sleeping in his good tweed coat; the former he was quite sure must have been Peter's doing.

  "Would it be too much to trouble you for a small cup of coffee, Shelbroke?" Edmund asked, ignoring the humorous disbelief on his friend's face.

  "I brewed a fresh pot earlier. Figured you'd need it whenever you finally roused," Peter said, and got up from his perch on the arm of the sofa where Edmund lay in a semi-placid and almost catatonic state.

  He truly felt like hell; he couldn't deny, closing his eyes for a few seconds as bits and pieces of the previous day drifted to him.

  He'd spent the morning in his
study, working out the details of the incriminatory letters, which were supposed to indicate that Lady Mary was committing adultery while married to Viscount Hilgrove. As his quill scratched over the paper, his thoughts kept returning to his visit to the earl's residence and the conversation he'd had with Lucy, when he'd been weak and divulged all the details of the wager. He couldn't get over how disappointed she'd looked while they spoke, and that memory bothered Edmund a great deal throughout the rest of the day.

  Finally, plagued by his thoughts and indecisions, he'd decided to take a stroll down to the West End to chat with his sister for a few minutes. Their meeting reminded him why he couldn't stop now. Why he had to remain in the earl's employ despite the despicable things the man got up to.

  There were many solicitors in London who were hungry for a job like his and wouldn't have any qualms working for the earl, no matter how shady he was. Edmund couldn't categorize himself with them because his involvement with the earl was more complicated, which meant he couldn't quit and walk away easily.

  Depressed and unhappy after seeing his sister, he'd found himself over at the tavern on Cheapside, trying and failing to drown his thoughts in brandy.

  Edmund still couldn't fathom the providence that had brought him to his own doorstep hours later because, judging from the number of shots he'd consumed, it could only be regarded as a bloody miracle.

  Peter Shelbroke soon returned with the coffee, and after Edmund took a few sips, he almost began to feel like himself again.

  "Would you care to invite me along on your next wild night out, Swinton? You don't do half measures. "

  Edmund ignored his friend and struggled to get up, heading to his room to perform his morning ablution.

  It was past eleven when he finished with his toilette and ate a hasty breakfast of cold bread and jam before dressing in a sober dark tail coat and trousers, donning his beaver hat, and heading to the Langford residence.