Earl of Baxter

by Tammy Andresen

  Logan cleared his throat. “In other words, you cared for him. For how long?”

  She shrugged. “Two or three weeks.”

  “Oh my,” Penny whispered. “Do you think he’s in love with her?”

  “See,” Natty chimed in. “I told you that Clarissa was going to marry an earl.”

  Clarissa snapped her chin back up. “No, I’m not.” The words came out harsh. “I am going to take care of orphans. Run the girls’ orphanage. I’ll work for Penny.” She had to. Her soul depended on it.

  “You could marry if you wanted to,” Penny whispered. “We can hire someone else to run the orphanage.”

  Clarissa shook her head, looking out the window at the bleak December landscape. “I wasn’t meant to marry.”

  Chapter Four

  This might have been Mason’s least dignified moment since becoming an earl.

  He was still on the floor of the carriage as it rumbled down a busy London street.

  But his head was too full to bother with getting up.

  Besides, he deserved to be on the floor. He knew how to convince people to give him what he wanted, but with Clarissa…he’d been a raving lunatic. Completely ridiculous. All reason had left his head.

  What was it about him that made people reject him so? Hell, even his own father hadn’t wanted him. His mother had left him. Only Bash stuck around. But Bash often needed him.

  And Clarissa. She’d saved his life. Somehow, he always thought he’d return the favor. Sweep in and save hers. And then she’d love him too.

  Not in that way. At least not in his imaginings over the last several years. She’d been a girl the last time he’d seen her, and he’d pictured himself, ever older, to be her benign savior.

  But now? He’d take her love. And he’d give as much as he got back. More.

  He was meant to find her now, when she was all grown up. He could see that.

  He wanted to laugh at himself. No wonder everyone thought he was mad. He’d been about to wax poetic about fate and chance and the meaning of life in an empty carriage.

  But it was just that life had felt hollow. The only time he’d ever really felt whole inside was when his body had been ravaged by infection. And he’d been with her. Funny how that had worked.

  But he’d gone and mucked up their first real conversation. Not only did she not want him but he’d scared her half to death. How was he going to fix that?

  The carriage drew to a stop, but he still didn’t move. Didn’t even know where the vehicle had taken him.

  The door snapped open but this time it wasn’t Goldthwaite but Bash who stood in the doorway. “What in bloody Christ are you still doing on the floor?”

  He grunted. “Thinking.”

  “About how you just ruined the best deal of my life?” Bash groused.

  Mason shuddered. “Are you going to stop being my brother since I took away your deal with the Den of Sins?”

  It was Bash’s turn to grunt. Which sounded exactly like Mason’s. “I’m your brother. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  Mason breathed a quick sigh of relief. With Bash on his side, anything was possible.

  “But you are going to help me get that deal back.”

  Mason shook his head. “I don’t think that’s happening.”

  Bash reached in and began hauling Mason into a sitting position so that he might exit the carriage. Which was in front of the Earl of Goldthwaite’s home. Apparently, no one had told the driver not to come here. “Of course, it’s happening,” Bash answered. “I need that club.”

  “Why?” Mason asked. “You’ve got plenty of money.” He hadn’t questioned Bash before today but suddenly it seemed odd.

  “I’m the Duke of Decadence. Debauchery is what I do. Gaming, women, drink, and any other delights.” His lip curled. “The club will be the final nail in father’s coffin.”

  Ahh. “Now that I understand. I swear I became a success just to tell father that he was wrong about me.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Well, that and to have the means to find Clar—”

  Bash’s eyes widened. “She means that much?”

  “You both do. You two are the reason I am alive.” He scrubbed his scalp. “And I need to see her again. I have to convince her I’m not the wolf.”

  Bash shook his head. “You really are off your game. Normally, you’re the best negotiator I know. But if you were trying to convince her you are kind or gentle, you couldn’t have picked a worse method.”

  He dropped his head into his hands. “The truth hurts. What do I do now?”

  Bash shrugged. “You’re asking me? What do I know about it?”

  “You decided to find me. Give me a new life. How do I do that for her?” Mason leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

  Scratching his chin, Bash frowned. “Give her a career. That’s what I wanted to do for you. Or, since she’s a woman, marry her. Or offer to marry her. You’d be providing the ultimate protection.”

  His teeth clinked together. If only that were the solution. “After the stunt I just pulled…”

  “Fine. Career then. She wants to start an orphanage. Help her with that.”

  Mason’s eyes widened. Normally he was the brother who figured out what people wanted and then made an offer they couldn’t refuse. But today, Bash had been the expert negotiator. “You’ve been taking notes.”

  Bash grinned. “My little brother taught me well.” He nodded toward his carriage. “But don’t make the offer today. Let’s be respectful of their family.” Then he grimaced. “Which means no jumping in their carriage.”

  Mason sighed. Bash had a point there. If he wanted Clarissa to trust him, he couldn’t go around acting like a wild man. And he’d use any excuse to be part of her life, but he couldn’t help but hope, if she learned to trust him, she might allow him to offer even more. Like her hand in marriage.

  Goldthwaite’s carriage stopped and the door snapped open as Goldthwaite climbed out.

  “We’re leaving,” Bash called. “Though I’ll have you know you’re one of the few men to refuse a duke as a guest.”

  Logan gave Bash a dead stare. “I’ll take my chances.” And then he handed out his bride.

  Mason’s breath caught as Goldthwaite reached in again, helping Clarissa out as well.

  She looked so beautiful standing in her red velvet dress, snow dancing behind her. Marry her? It was a damned fine idea.

  Only, there was little chance she’d say yes after today.

  But then again, he was the Earl of Baxter. And in the end, he knew how to negotiate a deal.

  Clarissa rose from bed the next morning, sure she had dark circles under her eyes. She’d barely slept. Peeking from beneath her pillow were the three blackmail letters she’d received. The first had just been veiled threats but the last had demanded one thousand pounds in order to keep her theft a secret. She didn’t have any money of her own and whoever had sent that letter wanted the payment by the end of the year. Which was in less than a week.

  She didn’t know what to do and she couldn’t allow the Earl of Baxter to distract her now. She had to focus on her future. On the children and on Penny. Her past couldn’t hurt them.

  But it all made her so tired. A look in the mirror confirmed her suspicion. She looked like she’d barely slept a wink. With a sigh, she began to dress.

  Though Logan had provided a maid for her, Clarissa had never had one in her entire life and wasn’t entirely certain how to use the woman.

  Clarissa opened the wardrobe and pulled out a pale blue wool gown that Logan had recently given to her. He’d provided wardrobes for all of them. She ran her hand down the fabric. She supposed there had to be a few good men in the world, if Penny’s husband was any indication.

  But the likelihood of her meeting one seemed impossible, especially for her. The priest who’d run the orphanage had just been cruel. That was easy enough to avoid. But her father had been insidious. Not only had he spent all of the family�
��s money, but he’d managed to convince Clarissa to sign over the small amount her mother had left for her. He’d sworn he was helping them. Maybe he’d really believed it.

  But in the end, he’d squandered their finances and he’d made Clarissa participate in her own undoing. She’d had no money, no future, and no way to change that. Except, of course, by breaking the law.

  It made her sick to even think about it. And that was why she’d never trust a man again. Or herself. That was the more important detail.

  A soft knock came at her door.

  “Who is it?” she asked, working the elaborate row of buttons on her dress.

  “It’s me,” Penny called. “May I come in?”

  “Of course,” she said, crossing the room to open the door.

  Penny didn’t say a word as she began to do Clarissa’s buttons for her. When the dress was all buttoned, Clarissa caught her friend’s gaze. “You should be in bed with your new husband.”

  Penny touched her cheek. “I was worried about you.”

  Clarissa’s heart lurched. She hated to worry Penny. “Thanks to you, I am fine. Look at where we live. What our life has become.”

  Penn nodded. “Did the Earl of Baxter scare you yesterday?”

  Clarissa dropped her chin. How did she explain that the one who frightened her most was herself? This was the man that had been the object of her fantasies for years. And then he’d arrived like a fierce storm with an intense gaze and a handsome façade claiming never to have forgotten her. That he’d been searching for her for all this time and that he wanted to help her.

  He was also the person who knew more about her past than anyone. She supposed it wasn’t just society from which she hid the truth. And she didn’t keep secrets just because of the money for the orphanage. She kept them even from herself.

  She was ashamed.

  Penny patiently waited, taking a seat on the bed.

  Swallowing, she tried to explain to Penny. “No. He’s not scary. Just…” Her words faltered as she rubbed her temples. “He just knows things and—”

  “Things I don’t know?” Penny clutched her hands in front of her chest.

  “Well, you know far more about me than anyone, but I thought he was going to die and so I told him about—” She stopped. Clarissa didn’t even want to confess that her secrets involved her father’s suicide and his gambling debts.

  Penny paused. “You’ve never shared much about your life before I brought you to the orphanage.”

  Clarissa’s back stiffened. “There isn’t much to say.”

  “You can tell me anything, you know. I’ll always love you.”

  Clarissa looked at Penny again before she crossed the room and wrapped her friend in a quick hug. “Thank you.” But she didn’t share. How would Penny feel about trusting Clarissa with the lives of children if she knew that Clarissa had allowed a man to swindle her entire future right out from under her? Or how she’d financed their return to London? Or that her past was awful enough to allow for blackmail? Clarissa barely trusted herself.

  Penny narrowed her gaze. “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

  Clarissa sighed, looking out the window. She couldn’t look Penny in the eye and lie. “There is nothing to tell.”

  She heard Penny give a soft gasp. Likely her friend knew that Clarissa was lying. But it was better that Penny suspected rather than knowing for certain that Clarissa was no good.

  Penny crossed her arms over her chest, her foot tapping on the floor. “Clarissa. Haven’t we been together long enough that you know you can trust me?”

  “I do trust you,” she cried, looking back at her friend. It’s me I don’t trust, she wanted to say. But she held her tongue.

  Penny let out a quick huff of frustration. “I love you. And you’re very strong, but you’d do well to let a few people in once in a while to share your burden.” Then Penny spun about and left without a backward glance. Clarissa slumped back down on the bed. She was driving the only person she trusted away. Was she making a mistake in guarding her past? But what if sharing her secrets only made things worse?

  Chapter Five

  Mason sat at his desk at the Wicked Earls’ Club and stared at the polished mahogany that surrounded him. It was a beautiful room in a very masculine way.

  The club was located on the East End of London, just as the streets grew narrower and more crowded. They were close enough to let respectable London slip in and out unnoticed but far enough out of the swankier streets to keep their activities quiet.

  Not that Mason was a man with a great deal of illicit activities. He left most of those for his brother.

  The club was less of a place of debauchery for him and more of an access point to all of respectable society. With every connection he made, he grew more able to control the world around him.

  Except for Clarissa, of course.

  Was he in love with her?

  He couldn’t say. Most likely. She was one of the few people who’d managed to make him ache with joy at a simple touch.

  But all that he’d accomplished didn’t make her want him, apparently.

  He’d change that, however. Very soon, in fact. It wasn’t love. Not yet. But he could offer her everything in this world she’d ever wanted. All she had to give him in return was her hand.

  As if in an answer to his thoughts, a knock sounded at the door.

  “Baxter.” A dark-haired man named Keyworth opened his door. “There’s a Goldthwaite here to see you.”

  “Send him in,” Mason answered.

  The man’s only response was to chuckle. A few seconds later, a Goldthwaite did in fact enter the room, but it wasn’t Lord Goldthwaite but Lady Goldthwaite who entered the room. Penny.

  Surprise widened his eyes as Mason stood. “My lady,” he asked, cocking a brow.

  “My lord,” she answered. “Thanks for seeing me.”

  “Well to be fair, Keyworth didn’t actually tell me that it was you.”

  She smiled. “My fault. I asked him not to say.”

  “Tricky,” he murmured, gesturing for her to take a chair.

  She shrugged and then sat. “I was afraid you might not see me if you knew.”

  “Sincerely that isn’t true.” He gave an easy smile, recognizing an opportunity to get more information about Clarissa. “I’m delighted that you’re here.”

  Penny cocked her head to the side. “I didn’t expect you to be charming.”

  He laughed at that. “Funny. I’m rather known for it, actually.”

  Penny gave a slow nod. “Logan says that you’ve been more successful at gaining entry into society than he has so it makes sense that you would have such a skill. It’s just that…” She paused, looking up at the ceiling.

  “Just that…?” he prompted.

  She looked back at him, a small grin curving her lips. “That you didn’t choose to use any of it on Clarissa yesterday.”

  He blinked, sitting back in his chair. “I suppose you’re right.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just that she stripped away all my usual tools and tricks. I found myself rather…” He had been about to say raw.

  “Is that the reason? The real reason you were so gruff yesterday? It’s not because you are threatening her?”

  His heart began to speed up in his chest. “Threaten her?” He sat forward. “I need you to understand. She is the only reason I am alive today. I would do anything to repay that favor.”

  Penny drew in a deep breath as she reached into her reticule. “So you did not send her these?” She pulled three letters from the bag and slid them across the desk.

  His brow furrowed as he picked one up and scanned the contents. White-hot anger coursed through him as he read them one after the other. Someone was attempting to hurt his Clarissa after all. “I would never…”

  Penny gave a tight nod. “It’s coincidence then that you arrived at the same time as these letters?”

  He shook his head. Thoughts of fate were
swirling about his mind again. “She shared these with you?”

  “No. I found them tucked under her pillow.”

  That made him pause. “And you decided to come here and call me out, alone? What if I had been the blackmailer?”

  Penny’s eyes widened. “I suppose Clarissa and I have a bit more in common than I sometimes admit. I’ve gotten used to solving my own problems.”

  He shook his head. “Fortunately for you, I want nothing more than to keep Clarissa safe. She means the world to me.”

  Penny’s smile softened. “You affect her too.” Then she frowned. “Or perhaps, you had the exact opposite effect. All the guards she carefully keeps up around her have slowly been slipping down but yesterday…” She paused, drawing in a shaky breath, “They all came flying back up.”

  Mason clenched his fists under the table. He had to remain his usual cool self. “Her normal walls. She’s always guarded?”

  Penny nodded. “She’s never liked to talk about her past…before the orphanage. I know her father is a painful memory, but after all these years, I still don’t know why.” Penny paused pressing her mouth together. “She indicated you might know something about that. And now with this,” she gestured toward the letters, “it’s even more important she opens up.”

  His brows went up again. He wasn’t the only one seeking information. “She didn’t tell me much. Just that her father gambled away every penny and then took his own life.”

  Penny grimaced. “I’d puzzled out that much myself. Though she must have had some money. She paid for our carriage fare back to London.” Penny’s brow furrowed. “Is she ashamed because he committed suicide? Father Byron was forever telling her Mr. Hershel would burn in hell for such a sin.”

  “She said something about him spending her money too.” Mason leaned forward. “Did she have money of her own?” How had she paid for the fare? Something niggled deep inside. He sensed this was important but he didn’t understand why.