Earl Lessons: The Footmen’s Club Series

by Bowman, Valerie

  Annabelle accepted the parcel and turned it over in her hands. “What is it?”

  He nodded toward the package. “Open it.”

  She pulled off the string and unwrapped it. “It’s…” She glanced up at him. Tears shimmered in her ice-blue eyes. “A book.”

  “Not just any book,” he said, biting his bottom lip and closely watching her face for her reaction.

  Her hand gently caressed the book’s cover. “It’s Pride and Prejudice, the one I said I wanted. Where did you find it?”

  David tipped his head to the side. “I went to a bookstore in London just before coming here.”

  “Thank you,” she breathed, hugging the book to her chest. “No one has ever given me something so thoughtful.” She tilted back her head to meet his gaze.

  He hadn’t been mistaken about the tears. She was even now blinking them away.

  “Better than flowers or bon bons?” he prompted.

  A smile touched her lips. She nodded. “So much better.”

  He reached out and tapped the top of the book. “Curious that the book you wanted is about a young lady who has no intent to marry until the right man comes along.”

  Her eyes were wide, and her mouth formed an O. “You read it?”

  “Indeed, I did. Quite enjoyable,” he replied. “Lizzie reminded me of you.”

  “She did?” Annabelle breathed.

  “Certainly. Clever, determined, refuses to be told what to do,” he replied, handing her the cigar once more. “Magnificent. Just like you,” he said, and with that, he turned on his heel and strode back through the French doors.

  On the way back to the dining room, David smiled to himself. He’d surprised her with the book and the fact that he’d read it. The look on her face had been pure wonder. That had been lovely. But a frown quickly took the place of his smile, because he realized he was in a great deal of trouble. There had been a funny feeling in his middle the entire time he’d been in Annabelle’s presence. And now he missed it.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The next night, Annabelle stood along the sidelines of the dancing, catching her breath. She’d just finished her second dance with that ass, Lord Murdock, and was doing her best not to look around to see if David was dancing with Lady Elspeth again.

  Tonight, the wedding festivities consisted of a country dance out in one of Worthington’s barns, which had been transformed into a lovely spot for a party, with flowers and candles and pastel-colored ribbons wrapped around the rough wooden posts.

  Annabelle was wearing a simple white gown with scalloped sleeves that had tiny daisies embroidered around the hem, the empire waist, and the neckline. She wore soft white kid slippers and had daisies woven through her hair. She looked and felt young tonight. As if she were a first-Season debutante. The two glasses of punch that one of the bridegrooms (almost certainly not Beau) had obviously laced with alcohol had served to put a glow in her cheeks.

  Her smile faded, however, as the memory of seeing David last night on the patio swept through her mind. Talking to him again had been even more excruciating than she’d expected. She still couldn’t stop replaying their kiss at the Talbots’ ball in her mind. She’d since gone to dinner parties, attended other balls, and been riding in the park with Lord Murdock, participating in each event with a smile pasted on her face. But all she could think about was David. And it made no sense. She’d only known David for a short time. He was an outsider. Nearly a stranger. How could she miss him? Why did she miss him?

  But the feeling had been there, night after night, as she attended the normal events of the Season. The same events she’d attended for the last five years. What made this Season any different? She craned her neck in every crowd looking for him. She closely watched Lady Elspeth, in case David appeared at her side. Annabelle even went so far as to ask Marianne where her brother had got off to. But Marianne had offered little help in explaining David’s absence.

  Annabelle had told herself again and again to stop. It didn’t matter where David was. They’d finished their lessons and he’d gone his own way. They had no ties to each other, and he certainly hadn’t promised to see her again. Why would he? Why should he? She’d made it clear time and again that she wasn’t interested in being courted. Not that David had ever indicated he wanted to court her, but something about their interaction on the patio last night had been excruciating. Did he want to court her? Was that why he asked if she was looking for a husband?

  When she’d seen him leave the table last night, she’d been compelled to follow him. She had no reason for it. It was almost as if her body had moved on its own volition, without input from her mind.

  The musicians in the corner of the barn struck up another song and Annabelle glanced up in time to see David pull away from the crowd and disappear down a shadowy corridor. Where was he going now? Perhaps to have another cigar? She should not follow him. She didn’t want to be courted. She didn’t want a husband. But that kiss had made her hot and cold and achy. That kiss had made her feel things she’d never felt before. It was the first time in her life she’d truly desired a man. She was attracted to David. She’d never felt that way before. It scared her senseless.

  And then there was the book he’d given her. For heaven’s sake, why did the man have to be so different from all other men? Why did he listen when she spoke, and why did he care about what she said? Why did he make her feel things she didn’t want to feel, and make her want things she didn’t want to want?

  She could not marry, would not marry. Marriage was a trap for a woman. She refused to belong to any man. She would not allow herself and any children to be abused. David needed a wife. He was an earl, after all, and would be expected to marry and produce an heir. He was nothing but a distraction leading her in the wrong direction from her well-ordered life. But even as she had that thought, she glanced quickly toward Lord Murdock to ensure he wasn’t watching, then slipped away to follow David into the shadowy darkness on the far end of the enormous barn…as if she had no choice.

  Still mentally arguing with herself, Annabelle kicked at the bits of hay that lay strewn along the path she was following between the horse stalls. The barn was clean and smelled like fresh bales of hay. Occasionally, a horse would neigh when she passed.

  She was drawn toward a flicker of candlelight glowing in the darkness. She found David sitting on a bale of hay in one of the empty stalls. In addition to the bale, hay covered the entire floor of the stall, at least three paces high. David’s knees were drawn up onto the bale and his wrists rested atop them. He was wearing buff-colored breeches, a white shirt open at the top, and black boots. His short, dark hair was mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through it. She’d already learned that he did that whenever he was frustrated.

  Annabelle stepped into the round pattern of light cast from the lantern he’d lit. “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugged. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  She took another step closer and stood directly in front of him. “Very well. Ask me.”

  He reached out and gently captured her wrist. “What if I told you I came here hoping you’d follow me?”

  Heat suffused her body. “Wh…why?” she managed to ask through dry lips.

  He stood and moved slowly forward while she moved back until her shoulders were pressed against the stall door. He braced both palms against the wood directly over her shoulders and leaned down. His lips were mere inches from hers. When he spoke, his breath caressed her cheek. “What if I told you I want to kiss you again? That I want to touch you?”

  She swallowed hard. Her breath coming out in short pants. “Is that true?”

  “If it was, what would you say?” He reached out and gently stroked her hair.

  Her eyes met his and sparks leaped between them. She lifted up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’d tell you I followed you for the same reason. Touch me, David.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

&nb
sp; The moment Annabelle’s lips touched his, David pulled her against him, hard. Their bodies pressed together, their tongues tangled. He turned and fell backward onto the soft hay, taking her with him. She was atop him, and his hands couldn’t touch her enough. They moved up her sides, down her thighs, to her breasts, to her backside, pulling her tight against his rock-hard cock.

  “David,” she breathed against his lips.

  Hearing his name on her lips made him ache. “Kiss me, Annabelle,” he demanded.

  Annabelle kissed him. She kissed his cheek and his lips and his neck and even darted her tongue into the curve of his ear, making his entire body buck beneath her. Every touch of her lips made him harder. One of his hands cupped her arse, and he pressed her tight against his erection. She moaned in the back of her throat. It was the most erotic sound he’d ever heard.

  He swiftly flipped them over so that she was cushioned in the fluffy hay, and he was atop her. He ground his hips against the softness between her legs. She moaned again.

  Summoning his will, he sat her up, reached behind her, and undid the buttons of her gown before pulling the sash to release the bow at her back. Her gown fell away from her shoulders, and she lifted up and shimmied it down her body to pool around her waist.

  His mouth traced a hot path down her neck to the top of her shift, which he quickly pulled down to expose one perfect breast.

  Panting, his lips moved down to her swollen nipple, and he sucked it, then flicked his tongue back and forth across the hardened nub. Her hands in his hair, Annabelle gasped and David smiled against her tender skin.

  He moved to her other breast, sucking the nipple, and lavishing it with the same attention until her head fell back and she cried out.

  He slowly moved his hand down to the hem of her skirts and dragged them up to her thighs. His hand caressed the silken flesh of her legs, while his knee slipped between them to slightly spread them. His hand moved inexorably to the intimate spot that he hoped was throbbing as hard as he was.

  When he stroked one finger across her nub of pleasure, her body bucked. He couldn’t help his proud smile. He kissed her deeply again and then moved his mouth to her ear. “Do you like that?” He rubbed her with the tip of his finger.

  “David,” she breathed, clutching at his shoulders. “Don’t stop.”

  David didn’t need to hear another word. Her wish was his command. He rubbed her in tiny circles, pressing the intimate flesh while she writhed beneath him. Her legs tried to gain purchase in the hay, but they slipped out from under her each time she tried to move closer to his hand. She grabbed his wrist, holding it tight against her as if frightened that he might end her exquisite torture.

  “I won’t stop,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m going to make you fly.”

  * * *

  Annabelle’s breath came in tight, short pants. She had no idea how David knew precisely where to touch her, but she wasn’t about to allow him to stop. Her entire body felt as if it was stretched tight on a rack, and the longer he rubbed her, the wetter the spot between her legs, and the more she wanted to cry out. Her jaw was clenched tight. Her legs were locked beneath his, and she clutched at his wrist as if it were the last line off a sinking ship.

  “Please, David,” she moaned, not certain what she was asking for. But she wanted it. Her entire body wanted it. Badly.

  “Hold on, Annabelle,” David ordered roughly into her ear. “You’re almost there.”

  Annabelle’s head tipped back, her jaw fell open, and her entire body tensed seconds before stars shot across the backs of her closed eyes. Her hips jerked and her knees clamped together against David’s forearm.

  It was several moments before her breathing slowed to anything like a normal rhythm. She lifted her head and opened her eyes to see David, with his mouth quirked up, looking quite proud of himself. She expelled a long breath. The man should be proud after what he’d just done to her.

  He leaned down and nuzzled her neck. Annabelle let her head fall to the side to give him better access. Every touch made her feel as if her body was going up in smoke. That’s what this man did to her.

  * * *

  David kissed Annabelle on the lips one last time before helping her stand and pull her shift and gown back up. He moved behind her to redo the buttons at the back of her gown, and he tied her sash, however inexpertly.

  He’d tried to stay away from her. Tried to tell himself that no good could come from seeing her again. Last night after he’d given her the book and walked away, he’d told himself he would leave her be for the remainder of the house party. But then he’d recognized that funny feeling in his middle, the one Marianne had told him about. He didn’t want to risk never feeling it again. That’s when he realized that he’d never actually tried to tell her he wanted her. He’d never actually said the words out loud. If he was going to give her up, let her go forever, he had to try at least.

  He’d tossed and turned all night last night, trying to decide how best tell her. In the wee hours of the morning, the perfect solution finally occurred to him. He would give her the power. Let her make the decision. If she came to him, if she followed him out of the dance tonight, the same way she’d followed him outside last night, she’d be making her choice. And he would tell her how he truly felt. It was time to learn the truth.

  If her body’s reaction to him just now wasn’t the truth, he didn’t know what was. He pulled her into his arms again and kissed her deeply. Then he pulled his lips away and pressed his forehead against hers. They were both panting. Her hands were resting on his shoulders, and she slowly moved them down his arms before placing them back at her sides. Her eyes remained closed and her breathing, erratic.

  David took both of her hands in his and laced their fingers together. He opened his eyes and pulled his forehead away to see her face. “Let me court you, Annabelle. I want you to be my wife.”

  Pain flashed across her pretty face. Pain, and something else he couldn’t quite define, perhaps regret. She opened her eyes too. “No,” she breathed. “I can’t.”

  “No?” Pulling his hands away from hers, he shook his head and searched her face. “Why not? I don’t understand.”

  “I cannot marry anyone, David.” She wrapped her arms around her middle as if she were cold.

  His jaw turned to stone. “Cannot, or will not?”

  She jerked her head to the side. “Does it matter?”

  “It matters to me,” he nearly growled.

  “Fine, then I will not,” she replied through clenched teeth, the pained expression still on her face.

  “If you don’t want me, say it,” he demanded.

  “I do want you, David,” she murmured, “more than you know.”

  He scrubbed both hands frantically through his hair. “You’re speaking in riddles. It makes no sense.”

  She bowed her head. “I’m sorry, David. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  David pulled a piece of hay from his hair and flung it to the ground. “No, I’m the sorry one, Annabelle.” He pushed open the stable door and stalked away into the darkness.

  * * *

  Annabelle watched him go with a lump in her throat. She spent the next several minutes combing hay from her hair with her fingers and smoothing her skirts. There was no way she could return to the dance now. She would have to sneak back to the house and have Cara help her right her clothing first.

  Annabelle let out a long groan. Should she even return at all? She clearly wasn’t making the best choices tonight. Why had she followed David here? Why had she kissed him? Why had she allowed him to touch her that way?

  But she already knew why. The answer to all those questions was the same…she couldn’t stop herself. Her mind told her to stay far away from him, but her body traipsed after him, wanting more. And she did want more. Even now. She wanted him badly. The release she’d just experienced had done nothing to slake her desire for him. If she’d been unable to forget his kiss, she would never forget the way he’d tou
ched her tonight. She never wanted to forget. And she wanted to touch him too. Make him feel the same way.

  At least she had her answer. He did want to court her. She’d suspected that, of course. Though they were already well beyond courting. They should be talking about marriage after what they’d just done. She’d handled her reaction poorly. Instead of simply saying she would not marry, she should have told him that if she ever considered marrying any man it would be him. But what did that matter? That wouldn’t satisfy him. She wanted him, but she couldn’t marry him. So she’d rejected him.

  A desperate idea flashed through her mind. Could she spend the night with him, and have the strength to leave him afterward? Was she that brave?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  David spent the next day torn between misery every time he thought about how much he wanted Annabelle, and anger at allowing himself to become embroiled in this situation. Why had he thought it was a good idea to spend time in the company of the most notoriously unattainable spinster in London? Oh, yes. Earl Lessons.

  He didn’t want to want Annabelle. He didn’t want to love her. But with each passing moment he was more certain it was too late.

  There was one thing he was clear on, however. He wanted Annabelle for Annabelle, not because she was a prize to be won. Spending time with her, talking to her, he’d learned that she wasn’t the vain princess he’d first thought her to be: Lady Presumptuous. Instead, she was funny and witty and wise. She was bold and passionate. She truly cared about others and loved her family deeply. She was someone who would do a large favor for a near stranger. And she was kind. She’d readily accepted Marianne in her family, hadn’t she? Annabelle just wanted to be seen and heard. She wanted someone to look past her beauty and realize what a treasure of a person she was. And he had. He had. But for some reason that she would not discuss, she refused to marry.