He’d sworn that to her. He’d sworn he wouldn’t be happy until Annie was happy and he had no hope in that ever happening.
It had been months since he’d seen her, but he asked Dr. Christian Sparrow for a report on her husband every time they spoke. A few months ago, Mr. Cox had been in danger from his wife. Annie had got it in her mind to usher the man to an early grave.
It had taken Will pleading on her behalf for Van Dero to not reprimand her and since then, Mr. Cox was watched at Will’s expense and frequently checked by Christian… just in case.
That Van Dero was aware of Annie’s earlier plotting seemed to give her pause on her plans. Mr. Cox lived and everyone suffered.
Will looked Annie over and took notice of her belly. “Are you with child?”
She stiffened and shrugged. “I’m married to the man. He wants children. I can’t refuse him. My mother made it clear before she died that it is my duty.” She narrowed her eyes to slits again. “You just make sure you keep to your own duty to me.”
He’d not love. He’d vowed he’d not do it.
But his eyes moved to her stomach. “Does the prospect of a child please you at all?”
Annie placed a hand on her stomach. “I will care for my child as any other woman would.”
But would she love the baby? Would the love for her child absolve him from his oath?
She read his mind. Her sadness returned. “This baby could have been yours. Had you married me, it would be yours.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I would have loved you. I still do.”
Will backed away. “You’re married, Annie.”
“Mr. Cox is old. He’ll not live long.” She followed his steps and smiled. “In a few years, we can be together. We can be happy.”
He didn’t bother to remind her of the reason he hadn’t married her to begin with. He didn’t love Annie. He couldn’t. While it had been fun being with her, she’d always been a very entitled woman. Her father had never refused her anything.
She didn’t understand the word no.
Still, he was responsible for her. So, in the end, if Mr. Cox did die… he would marry her. He’d be miserable, but he’d do the thing he should have done five years ago. He’d make his parents proud—even though they were no longer around to see it. He’d make things right.
Perhaps Annie was aware of that. Perhaps she knew that his guilt had forever tied them together.
With his back against the door, she pressed against him.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
He placed his hands on her arms and set her away. “You’re married.” And the very thought of touching her made him cold.
“That’s your fault! Paul had no one!”
He covered her mouth with his hands. “Lower your voice.” Her need to draw attention was yet another reason he avoided her. Every time they came together, she made sure people knew there was a disagreement between them.
Poor Mr. Cox. He could hardly show his face in public. His wife shouted her displeasure at every turn. He looked so very brokenhearted whenever Will saw him. That wasn’t often, but in a city with millions, it happened. Sometimes in shops or on the street.
He was kind to Will. The kindness was likely rooted in the fact that Will’s son had died, but it changed nothing. They all suffered because of Will.
These thoughts made Will think just how easy life could be for people like Mr. Cox if he was no longer around. It was why he took risks during his assignments.
She ripped herself from his hold and lowered her voice. “You can’t have her. Do you hear me? I’ll never let you have her.” She looked him over. “Besides, she’s too good for you. A famous author. The daughter of an earl. You’re nothing but a knight. My knight.”
She didn’t know he was an earl yet. How would she react? He feared her reaction to the news. She was already slightly unhinged. Annie would go mad at the news.
He’d have to make sure Mr. Cox was safe and protected. He’d put another man on him, switch one of the footman out for one of his own. He could see it done.
“Her father will never let you have her,” she said.
“I don’t want her.” It was the only response that would keep Annie from seeking Camilla out. “As you’ve said, she’s too good for me.” His title aside, Camilla was of another class.
She was good. Yes, she liked to kiss boys in dark alleys, but she also accompanied her grandmother to functions—even if she knew the woman would do nothing but sleep.
Her kindness set them apart.
Annie must have seen the truth in his face, because she settled. “I’m glad you understand that. Now, I should go rejoin my friends before they come looking for me.” She lifted a brow. “Unless you want company…”
He stepped away from the door.
She glared but didn’t look back as she stomped from the room.
Will left the party and headed toward the shopping district in Mayfair. To get his mind off the women in his life, he turned to work.
Gloria’s confection shop stood just where it had for the last two decades and even after its owner’s death, not much had changed. Will had gone inside earlier that morning and watched as patrons had made their purchases, all unaware of what else the place had once sold.
Poison.
And if Van Dero’s suspicions were still correct, Gloria’s still supplied many with undetectable mixes that could render a man motionless and make his death easy.
The shop was now overseen by Mr. John Palmer. He was the son of a very wealthy and influential businessman. He’d been questioned in the past, and Van Dero even had a man following him, but so far they’d found nothing.
Will easily picked the lock and slipped into the back door of the shop. The kitchens were different than their source had described it a year ago.
Lady Elisa, who’d been the first person of Van Dero’s acquaintance to step into the shop, had described it as a dark place with exotic herbs and animals in cages.
As Will turned on a light, he saw no snakes or irregular herbs anywhere.
The kitchen was clean, white, and looked like any other he’d ever been inside.
He went around the kitchen and sniffed the herbs. He recognized them all. His mother had been a baker and cook for a wealthy house. Will’s father had been better, though he’d never been bold enough to say it aloud for fear of hurting his wife.
Will smiled at the thought of his parents.
He opened the cabinets. Nothing seemed odd. Nothing was there that didn’t belong.
There was everything someone would need to run such a business and nothing more.
The apartments upstairs were also owned by Mr. Palmer, but Will had been told that no one but a maid lived up there. He’d check the space another day.
He was certain to put everything back where he’d found it before he left and locked the door behind him.
Back at the duke’s house, there was a note.
Landcastle has selected the date for the celebration, setting it for a few weeks from now. Apparently, another gentleman was also being given a title, but Will hadn’t inquire on who that would be.
Hopefully, he’d be given those few weeks to simply be who he was, Sir William Husher and nothing more.
Will laid down and instead of sleeping, he went through a list of things he had to do in the morning. Since leaving Landcastle’s service, that list had diminished significantly. Once the Gloria situation was over—and if he lived to see its end—there would be nothing to do.
Nothing but tending sheep and staring out windows as the seasons turned and blended into one another. Without a family. Without love.
Only a title and a house with dozens of rooms he’d have no clue what to do with.
He’d have guests rooms ready for those friends who would bother to visit him. A dining room. A library. Walls of books. And one on his desk. Just the one.
He smiled. “Camilla,” he whispered.
Then he frowned and turned over.
He wanted nothing more from her than the book, he reminded himself. Nothing more.
He barely deserved that, but he’d take it. The only love he’d ever have.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 4
* * *
Will sat under a tree on a blanket and Camilla felt her boots cut through the grass at a pace much faster than her brain was working.
He turned to her, and there was no surprise on his face. He had one knee up. The other leg was stretched before him. He leaned casually against the tree as he looked up at her.
The day was bright. Even with his hat on, he was forced to squint as he looked up at her.
Not even a flicker of astonishment at seeing her.
Camilla’s friend, Lady Ruth Bowbon, asked, “Who is that?” She managed to keep up with Camilla’s pace but was breathing hard.
“Sir William Husher.”
“That’s him?” Ruth pulled in another breath. “Oh! I didn’t know he’d be so gorgeous.”
Camilla’s cheeks flamed.
Ruth slowed down. Her face was red as well, but for a different reason. She was struggling to breathe. For some reason, summer never agreed with Ruth’s lungs.
Camilla came to a stop when Ruth did and frowned as she watched her friend fight for air.
She offered a hand, only to have Ruth fan her away.
Ruth had her hands on her hips and wore a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there in a moment. Go speak to your knight.” Camilla had told Ruth everything about him. Everything. They’d known one another since they were young girls in braids and ribbons.
Emily was with her charity group that morning and Luke was working on his accounts, so the day was perfect for the friends to get together.
“I’ll wait for you,” Camilla insisted.
“No, go to your knight.” Ruth’s eyes sparkled, and her color began to return to normal. “But you’ll tell me everything once we’re alone.”
Camilla laughed. “Don’t I always?” It was the dynamic of their friendship. Camilla told stories and Ruth listened. Ruth had been the one who’d insisted Camilla first begin to write. There were few secrets between them.
“Go,” Ruth insisted again. She hated when people made a fuss over her. Even now, a maid and footman stood nearby to assist her if needed. She was never allowed to leave the house in summer unless they came with her.
Camilla sighed. “All right but do hurry.” She started back across the grass.
Will’s eyes were still on her. His expression confused her. It was like he’d known she’d come. Camilla stopped right before the blanket’s edge and gripped the book over her racing heart. “How is this possible?”
“Is your friend all right?” His eyes moved past her, watching Ruth.
A warm feeling spread in her heart at his concern. “She’ll be fine. Don’t ask after her when she arrives. She doesn’t like it.” Camilla looked back and saw Ruth wave.
Will inclined his head to Ruth before turning back to her. “Where were we?”
Camilla had to think about his question. “I can’t remember.”
“I believe you asked me how something was possible?”
“Yes! How is it that we continue to run into each other? Until a few days ago, I’d never seen you before in my life. And now you’re everywhere.”
“So it seems I am.” His eyes were still narrowed, but she didn’t think it because of the sun anymore. With the sun on his irises, the green nearly looked yellow, serpent-like. With his dark lashes and bronze complexion, he looked wild even as he sat there in a fine suit and polished boots. “Does that trouble you?”
“No.” She laughed. “Not at all. It’s as though I thought you up. I think of you and here you are. It’s hours before the fashionable hour. I didn’t think to see anyone much less you.”
He smiled. His dimples were devastation to her knees.
“I’m here!” Ruth called, right before someone else called Will.
“Husher.” A pair of women came over. Both were beautiful. One pushed a baby in a carriage while the other carried one in her belly.
Ruth grabbed Camilla’s arm as Will stood. Camilla felt her friend stiffen and looked over at her. Ruth’s blue eyes glowed as she took Will in.
Then Ruth whispered in wonder, “He is definitely your hero.” She was speaking about Camilla’s book.
Will introduced Camilla to Lady Elisa Childs and the Duchess of Van Dero.
Camilla felt herself trembling under the duchess’ stare even as the woman smiled and invited Camilla and Ruth to sit with her on the blanket.
Camilla’s eyes widened as she gave in. She’d never sat before a duchess. She’d met the queen once and thought this felt like that.
Lady Van Dero, who Lady Elisa had the privilege to call Milly, didn’t have to explain her power to anyone. It was there in the way she held her chin and in the wealth of her clothes, present in the elaborate styling of her black curls and the glow of her gray eyes.
Camilla was certain her own gray eyes looked like dirty puddle water compared to this woman.
But Lady Van Dero didn’t make Camilla feel less at all. She was so kind and her excitement at meeting Camilla was startling. “I read your book,” the duchess said. “I love it. I gifted it to all my dearest friends the Christmas before last. It belongs in every library, right along with Homer and Johnathan Swift.”
Camilla felt lightheaded and gripped the blanket beneath her hand. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Are you writing another?” Lady Van Dero inquired as she played with her son, bouncing the Earl of Ellevear on her back. It was such a simple motherly thing to do. It almost made her seem human.
But Camilla knew she wasn’t. She was a goddess. No, more than that. A duchess.
“She is,” Will answered for her. He was once again leaning against the tree. “I’m helping her.”
“Are you?” Lady Elisa gasped.
Will nodded. “Whenever we happen to meet, yes.”
“He’s inspiring Camilla,” Ruth said.
Camilla nodded. “He’s a fount of information.” And charm.
He was also many, many other things.
“Well, your book just became my priority,” Lady Van Dero said. “You and Lord Sen— ”
Will began to cough.
The duchess turned to him and frowned. Then her expression cleared… but only so she could frown again. Then finally, with a sigh, she turned back to Camilla. “Sir Will is staying at my home. You shall come and visit me. There, you both may work.”
Her brother would not refuse the duchess. Camilla would not refuse her.
Will looked as though he might but then he smiled. “How kind of you, Lady Van Dero.”
“Yes. Thank you, Your Grace.” Camilla could hardly breathe. Hardly think.
She’d just been given an invitation to visit one of the most coveted families in England.
She looked at Will and saw him grin. Had he arranged this meeting?
They stayed a while longer. Then Lady Van Dero and Lady Elisa got up to stroll again, but the duchess encouraged Camilla to stay and work. “We plan to move very slow,” she told Ruth.
The duchess hadn’t been lying when she’d made Camilla’s book her priority.
Camilla would have laughed if she wasn’t so very nervous in the woman’s presence.
Ruth got up as well. “I think I’d enjoy a walk.” She did not wish to upset the duchess.
Camilla touched Ruth’s hand. “You don’t—”
“I’m fine,” Ruth promised. Her eyes rounded in a way that said, “Stop it!”
Camilla closed her mouth.
“Don’t go too far,” Will told the duchess.
“I won’t,” she promised before she turned to Ruth and began to walk away.
That little exchange left Camilla speechless. She turned to Will and watched him as he watched the duchess. “Are you her bodyguard?”
“Not in any official sense of the word, but her husband asked me
to look after her. She managed to convince him to send less guards with her only because it wasn’t the fashionable hour.” He turned to her. “She wanted to come to the park. I did as well. Her husband suggested we go together.”
“The duke must trust you greatly.”
Will blinked as though the thought had never occurred to him. Then he inclined his head. “I suppose he does.”
She moved closer to him on the blanket but not too close. There were at least two feet between them but once seated properly, it was hard to ignore just how much larger he was than her.
He was leaning forward and still managed to be almost a foot taller than her. Now that they were more level, his eyes were green once more, yet still as mystical as before.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-three.”
“And you’re not married.” It wasn’t a question.
Her face grew hot but she lifted her head, nonetheless. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“And you’re not married.”
He lifted a brow. “Are you sure?”
“I am.” She wasn’t, but she thought her voice convincing enough.
She hoped he was a bachelor, not because she wanted to marry him, but because he’d flirted with her and she didn’t want him to be the sort of man who married one woman only to flirt with another in an alley.
Her father was that sort.
He grinned. “What gave me away?”
She shrugged even as she sighed with relief. “You just seem… unattached.” Alone. She could sense it just as surely as she could sense when he was in her vicinity. She had no clue what had made her look in his direction when she’d arrived at Hyde Park, but she had.
She didn’t know why she’d been so confident of his identity as she’d rushed to him. His hat had obscured his face. The tree had blocked a portion of him, yet she’d been sure.
Just a sure as she was about his marital status.
“Where is your sister-in-law?” he asked.
“With my brother.” She smiled. “Shopping.”
“That pleases you.” Another statement.
The Exception of an Earl Page 7
