The Exception of an Earl

by Deborah Wilson

  Getting him alone with Camilla.

  “No, you can’t.” Milly smiled knowingly. When she reached his side, she placed a hand on his shoulder and lowered her voice. “Lady Camilla needs help with her book and I do adore her writing. Stay and help her.”

  He couldn’t help but ask, “Are you giving me an assignment?”

  She grinned. “And one just as important to me as running the prison.” She patted his shoulder and led Lord and Lady Tolkin from the room.

  Her words were a reminder that it had been Milly who’d given Raven his position at Gavellorp Prison, the place where the wealthy enemies of Van Dero and England, in general, answered for their crimes.

  When they were gone, Will turned to Camilla. “Don’t worry. I’m leaving.”

  “Don’t.”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 3

  * * *

  Will stopped and waited for Camilla to say more, to give him a reason to stay.

  Her eyes pleaded. Then she looked out the window. “You have to stay. My brother will be upset if he finds out that you… left.”

  “He doesn’t have to know.”

  She looked at him again. “He will. Luke will find out.” She was confident about that.

  Will crossed his arms. He was used to feeling uncomfortable around people, crowds, mainly those who bathed themselves in unwholesome amounts of perfumes and gossiped in the corner of ballrooms for a living.

  But he was usually fine when it was just a woman and himself.

  Only Camilla set him on edge.

  She walked toward the window and looked out. She placed her hands on the table that sat there. She tilted her head to see around the windowsill and deeper into the garden. She smiled.

  She was beautiful.

  “He can see me,” she announced. She laughed and then straightened away from the table. “I’m sorry. He’s forcing me to do this.”

  “I’ll tell him you don’t need me anymore.”

  “And he’ll stop my book indefinitely.”

  Will was surprised. “He wouldn’t.”

  Camilla reminded Will of the reality of her situation as a woman. She had little say in her future. “He would.”

  Any power that Tolkin had over Camilla came from their father. He was acting on Hornstein’s behalf, which Will thought odd. Where was the girl’s father? He hadn’t been present at the dinner two nights ago either.

  Just how much power did Tolkin have over his sister? Would she have to marry Will if Tolkin demanded it?

  “Let me speak to him.” Will was sure he could convince the man that he was not for his sister. And if he couldn’t, he’d make sure to convince Tolkin that Will was the last man he wanted in his family.

  Camilla frowned. “How would you convince him?”

  “Not with a knife, if that’s the reason for your inquiry.”

  She didn’t blink.

  Will scoffed. “I’m not going to hurt your brother, Camilla.” Then he thought and said, “No, I take that back. What I mean is, if I do hurt him, I’ll use my fists.”

  Her eyes lit up. “But you will hurt him?”

  “Perhaps. Eventually. You should tell him I said so.” Will moved to the couch and sat down. “He annoys me.” He leaned back and stretched his arms over the back of the seat. “There is a chance that one day I’ll hit him.” The very thought made him smile. He made sure the smile was cruel. He wanted Camilla to hate him or be afraid. He wanted her gone.

  She didn’t react to his expression. “He annoys me too, so if you do hit him, hit him once for me, but… don’t tell him I asked.” She smiled.

  His smile fell as he took her in. He liked her smile too much. It was time to send her running. “I can’t help you with your book.”

  She shook her head and he thought it was in some form of despairing agreement until she said, “You already are.”

  “How is that so? Surely, I’m no longer the hero of your tale.”

  She moved forward and took the seat across from him. Her book sat on the tea table between them. She sighed. “Honestly, I’ve no choice.”

  “I can speak to your brother.”

  “This isn’t about my brother. This is about me.”

  The tightness in his gut was painful and stole his breath.

  Camilla picked up her book and kept her gaze on it as she settled it into her lap. She ran her fingers over the front. Her small strokes were an act Will often found himself thinking about when he was alone. She’d done it in the park and then she’d done it to her throat in the alley.

  Her careless sensuality was riveting. Her voice was quiet. “I… tried to change him. I tried to replace you, but…” She looked up again. “I can’t.” Her eyes seemed devastated.

  He fisted his hands but kept his visage cool. His pulse was a drum in his ears. “I know other men. I can introduce you to some great heroes, men who I think deserve the honor of a place in your book.”

  She shook her head. “No, it has to be you.”

  “Because of your brother?” She couldn’t think him special in any way.

  Frustration colored her face. “No, this has nothing to do with my brother.”

  He tapped his knuckles on the carved wood that ran the length of the back of the couch. “This has to do with you,” he said in disbelief.

  “Yes.”

  He sighed. “Can you explain that? Perhaps I can help you.”

  She smiled. “You already are.”

  The pain in his middle spread. “Camilla, I’m no hero.”

  She pulled her brows together and stared at him silently. “I think you are.”

  “I frighten you.”

  She nodded. “But other things can be frightening as well. Water and fire, but these things aren’t bad on their own. Water gives life. Fire gives warmth. It is only when they grow out of control that they...” She opened her journal and began to write.

  He gripped the couch to keep from going to her and reading what she’d written.

  She was busy for a time. The only sound was the scratching of her pencil.

  Every once in a while, she stuck her pencil into her mouth and stared at the page.

  It took him a second to realize how precious this moment was. He was watching an artist at work. A famous author. Her lips were tilted up. She sometimes looked at him and then bend her head. She laughed to herself. She was in her own world.

  She was there with him sometimes. When their eyes met, he could feel her inside him, searching and moving things around. Then she’d turn back to her page. Smiling. Frowning. She turned a page, filling one sheet and then another. She released a giggle here and there.

  Then finally, she stopped. She closed her eyes and gripped the book. Her expression was serene. And when she opened them again, her smile was for him. Not the character in the book, but for him.

  Gratitude.

  He’d helped. He’d done nothing but sit there, but it didn’t matter.

  He dropped his arms, feeling uncomfortable once again.

  Tea was brought in. Milly and Lord and Lady Tolkin followed.

  There was some light conversation before Lord Tolkin readied his family to depart.

  Milly asked Camilla, “Was this time helpful to you?”

  Her reply was light and breathy. “Yes.”

  “Then you’ll come again.” Milly looked at Will. “You’ll make yourself available, won’t you?”

  Will inclined his head.

  Camilla smiled at him once more before she left.

  “What did you discuss?” Milly asked the moment they were gone. She did a terrible job of hiding her anxiety.

  Will stood. “You’ll have to wait to read the book just like everyone else.”

  “Oh!” she cried. “Come on. Just tell me one thing. Please.” She moved to the edge of her seat and waited.

  Will laughed and crossed his arms as he thought. “Honestly, I don’t know what to say. We didn’t speak much. She wrote and I sat there. Nothing else happened.�
�

  “What did you speak about?”

  He paused again and then shrugged. “Water. Fire.”

  Milly sighed and frowned. “Oh, now I wish you’d never said anything. What is that supposed to mean? I’ll never be able to calm myself while trying to figure that one out.” She stood. “Help her finish the book.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Give her anything she needs,” she warned. “Even if she asks for your very soul.”

  Camilla was already close to getting that. He had few other secrets. Once she found out about Annie…

  “You must really want this book,” he said.

  “It’s been two years since she’s published anything. I adored The Good Father. I want another book. Soon.” She huffed. “What is the point of being a duchess and having all the power and wealth if I cannot use it for my own advantage?”

  Will chuckled at that. “Yes, you are usually quite selfless.”

  “But not with this. This, I do for me. I want this book and I’m willing to give her anything she needs for it, which includes you and a carriage to take her to and from my home whenever she wishes.”

  Will couldn’t imagine the last time he’d felt as passionate as Milly was about anything. However, one thing troubled him. “Why isn’t anyone worried about what could happen between us while we are alone? Someone should tell Tolkin about Annie.”

  “Yes, someone should, but I don’t think it all that important. That was five years ago. You’re a different man now.”

  “How can you say that? How do you know?”

  Mill approached him and touched his shoulder. “Because you tried to make it right. You did something wrong and tried to make it right and you’ve not done it since. You’ve been alone with many attractive ladies during the time you worked with my husband. That is the definition of change. I have complete faith in you.”

  “You shouldn’t.” Not only did he like Camilla, but she tempted him deeply. She was carnal in a very different way from other women. She didn’t have to bat her eyes to get him on his knees. All she had to do was bite a pencil or read a book.

  Will was certain he’d never grown hard in his life at the thought of a woman reading.

  Yet Camilla awoke sensual hunger within him.

  “Will, you won’t let me down.” Milly’s eyes were a clearer gray than Camilla’s. They were like moons and the way she used them made Will feel as though she’d wrapped a chain around his chest and pulled, forcing him to do her will.

  And how could he not? He had her complete faith.

  Her complete faith.

  How then could he dare to disappoint her now?

  His heart trembled.

  “I won’t let you down,” he vowed.

  “I know you won’t,” she said confidently. Then she leaned forward. “But help her finish the book anyway. She needs it.”

  He lowered his voice. “What does that mean?”

  She patted his shoulder and then dropped her hand. “Camilla and I spoke last week while you decided to hide from her.”

  He didn’t bother to lie.

  “She told me about the direction of her book. She told me…” Her smile was sweet. “You’re creative. I’m sure it will come to you when the time is right.”

  Will almost begged her to finish her statement and tell him more, but he held himself back.

  Still, he wondered…

  What did Camilla need from him? What did she see in him? He had to find out.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 4

  * * *

  “Why are you standing over here while the rest of your family is over there?”

  Camilla jumped and turned at the sound of Will’s voice. There was a crush tonight. All of Society had come for opening night as the Royal Theatre in Covent Garden but few stood out as well as him.

  It was intermission. The play was good, and Camilla looked forward to the second half.

  She smiled even as Will’s own expression was one of frustration.

  She looked back at her father. Her brother and Emily stood by him. She’d been about to follow but had yet to figure out what she would say when she reached her father’s side.

  For once, he was alone. Julia Walker must truly be ill if she missed a night such as this. Her father was known to parade her around town, but Camilla realized she’d neither seen nor heard about the woman for months.

  She didn’t know how to feel about that. She knew she should feel happy.

  Yet she didn’t.

  She was still confused by her father’s last visit and hurt that he’d only come to inquire on the other woman’s behalf—not to spend any actual time with Camilla.

  Will’s voice had cut through her musing and quieted the unease in her belly.

  Strangely, Camille didn’t feel the pressure to move to Father’s side of the room anymore.

  She looked at Will again and thought it wrong just how lovely he was in a suit with tails. The darkness of his jacket proved his hair wasn’t black but simply a deep and rich brown.

  “Are you collecting information?” he asked as she moved closer.

  “Collecting information?”

  “Do you look at me that way for your book?”

  Her heart fluttered. She hadn’t been thinking about her book at all, though she desperately wished she had her journal. She wished she could draw. If she could, she’d draw him over and over again. “How am I looking at you?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “Do you think you can control me?”

  “What?” She could hardly catch her breath with all his questions.

  “Fire. Water,” he explained. “You said they needed control. Do you think you can control me?”

  Her heart fluttered again. “Control you? Never.”

  He shook his head but not in denial. The motion meant something else, done in a way as though he were shaking something out of his mind.

  His eyes seemed especially green. A shade that reminded her of pale moss.

  She was close enough to touch him, but she didn’t. “I think you possess fine control over yourself, and honestly, isn’t that the best anyone can do?” She frowned. “We all have terrible thoughts or wild… urges. You didn’t stab Nast.”

  “I didn’t, but I’m not against doing it if it benefits me.” He moved closer and her heart stopped. “You need to know that about me, Camilla. If it benefits me, I can be quite formidable.”

  Her heart picked up pace and tingling spread down her arms. The sensation had nothing to do with fear.

  He shifted closer. “Now, let’s discuss these urges you just mentioned. Have you ever been intimate with anyone?”

  Camilla gasped and looked around. There were eyes on them. Actually, they were all for him. The new earl. She shushed him. “You can’t ask me that.”

  “Why not?”

  She straightened her spine and prayed her look was withering. “I’m not answering that.”

  “There’s only one answer for a proper lady.”

  “Yes, that is the answer I’ve given. It’s none of your business.”

  He grinned. His cheeks dimpled.

  “What?” She found herself smiling as well. The rogue. He was irresistible.

  He spoke quietly. “When I’m gentle, you soften. That, I can understand. That is something I’m used to, however… When I’m slightly more abrasive, you grow hard and jut out that little chin of yours. How is that possible? You should be running away from me.”

  How many times had he told her to “Go”?

  She cleared her throat. “I recall you promising not to hurt me.”

  His expression became thoughtful. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

  Their private discussion came to an end when her father approached. He was followed by Emily and Luke, the latter introduced Will as Lord Sencio.

  There’d been people watching Will before, but after Luke’s announcement, a high buzzing went throughout the room and anyone who knew Luke vied for an
introduction as well.

  And Luke knew nearly everyone.

  Camilla found herself being pressed away by those who flocked around her brother and the newest addition to the ton.

  Will was gracious. He received everyone well. He smiled and kissed the air above the hand of several young women.

  Hornstein moved around the crowd to approach Camilla. Her heart swelled right before it plummeted. H

  er father’s tone held accusation. “Why is it that I’m just being informed about your acquaintance with the Duke and Duchess of Van Dero?” Her father was rarely angry with her. He was hardly around long enough to get annoyed, much less angry.

  Camilla tripped over her words. “I… didn’t know it mattered.”

  “Of course, it matters.” He pulled her away from Will’s adoring public and spoke to her in a quieter corner. “You know the duke?”

  “I’ve met him. I’m sure Luke has as well.”

  His bright gray eyes were an unusual dark stormy color. “No, he has not.”

  “Of course, he has. He must have...” Camilla thought about Luke’s visit the other day… and quickly realized that the only person Luke had met was the duchess. Only Emily and Ruth had gone with Camilla on her earlier visit to Van Dero’s.

  She’d met the duke that day and found him to be kind but distant. He often reminded her of a statue with the way he moved or posed. He’d come to a complete stop while he thought with little sign of breathing. But then all the duchess had to do was call his name to break whatever hold his mind had on him. Then he was more alive than ever.

  She adored Lord and Lady Van Dero and her father was right, Luke had never met the duke.

  Her father grabbed her arm. “He told me he only met the duchess. He said that if I wished for an introduction, I would have to go through you.” He laughed and warmth filled his eyes again. “That’s a situation I never thought to find myself in—you introducing me to someone.”

  His request would have been just like any other request he’d ever made in the past, but now she had Luke’s examination of their father to guide her thoughts. He wanted nothing more than to use her.

  Unfortunately, Camilla didn’t care. She loved her father. She’d do anything for him. She was simply glad to have some use for him.