The Exception of an Earl

by Deborah Wilson

  The breath she took was long and deep. “I’m almost convinced to accept, but it wouldn’t be fair to you. My reasons wouldn’t be about love but trying to get away from everything and everyone who’s hurting me.”

  He wanted her to agree to the match, but he understood her hesitation. When she finally came to him, he wanted it to be about them and nothing else. “Would you like to go into the garden?”

  She shook her head. “No. Somewhere farther. Somewhere I’ve never been.” Then she paused and blinked. “Oh. The garden. The flowers. Thank you for the flowers. I loved them. Why did you do it?” Her fingers danced down his jaw. Her gaze was curious.

  “I… don’t know.” The question was unusual after receiving a gift, but then Camilla always asked the most unusual questions. Even when she didn’t feel like writing, she couldn’t turn her brain off completely.

  “I just thought you’d like something wonderful in the morning. I didn’t want you thinking about yesterday too much.”

  She bit her lip and her gaze became hooded. “Yesterday had a few wonderful moments.”

  He agreed. While he’d have given anything for the circumstances to have been different, he’d enjoyed holding her more than anything. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Somewhere important to you,” she said. Then the idea came to her. “I want to see where you grew up.”

  “My childhood home?” He shook his head. “No. That area of town is not for you. I didn’t live in Mayfair.”

  “Where did you live? Westminster?”

  “Paddington. It’s being called Tyburnia now, but when I was growing up, everyone called it Tyburn.”

  She frowned. Even though it had been more than forty years since the place had been used for public executions, the name of the village still made people think of capital punishment. “Well, at least you didn’t live through the village’s high times. And there was Hyde Park.”

  “Yes, it was a rather dull area. I recall numerous pastures. It’s changed greatly since then.”

  “Odd,” she said. “I would think you were someone who would enjoy the solitude of fields over crowds.”

  She knew him as well as he knew her. “I do, but I doubt you would.” He’d used the term ‘dull’ for her benefit. Not his own.

  She smiled and didn’t deny it. She enjoyed parties. “I still want to go.”

  He stroked her arms. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m allowed to take you far from the property, much less to Paddington. It’s close to Hyde Park. We could be seen.”

  Her gray eyes were full of defiance. “No one will fight us on leaving. Besides, I’m less inclined to obey the rules at the moment. I want to get away.”

  Will kept stroking her, but he said nothing as his mind tried to work out another solution.

  She broke from his hold. “Fine. You stay. I’ll go.” She turned her back to him, but he glimpsed the disappointment on her face.

  He grabbed her arm and turned her back. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. Also, I don’t want us to do anything that will force you into marriage.”

  “Then stay.”

  Her challenge irritated him. Could she not see the dangers of what she was proposing? Letting her go by herself wasn’t an option. “Tyburn has changed. You’ll never find my old home unless I show it to you.”

  “Then come with me.”

  She was being reckless and he understood why. With everything she felt, she thought she had nothing to lose, but that was far from the case.

  “You’re not thinking clearly.”

  “I wish people would stop telling me how I should think or what to think.” She moved to the door again. “I thought you’d want to spend the day with me. It’s why I came, but if you don’t...”

  “You know I do.”

  She turned around and crossed her arms. “Do you?”

  He narrowed his eyes and wondered at the game she was playing. Was she trying to push him away? Was this a test to see if he’d take back his oaths from the other day or was this something else entirely?

  “I thought you were braver than this,” she said. “Didn’t you say people called you reckless?” It was like she was picking the words from his mind.

  “That was when I cared whether I lived or died a whole lot less.”

  She looked stricken by his words and then her gaze softened. Her lips parted on a sweet breath. “Oh, William. You’re going to be shamelessly romantic in your pursuits, aren’t you?” She looked troubled by the thought, but then also…

  She smiled and wrapped her arms around him.

  That she’d come to him of her own will, touching him of her own free will, meant everything to him. And when she rested her head on his chest, he was undone. “Come with me. I want to be with you.”

  He placed his hand on top of hers. “All right, but I’ll hear no complaints when we’re forced to wed.”

  She leaned away. “If we did marry, would you allow me to write?”

  “Write. Don’t write. It would be up to you. I’d just want to watch you while you did it.” He found her concentration so exhilarating. He would definitely allow her to write… so long as she didn’t mind being interrupted by her amorous husband throughout the day.

  She watched him with her lips tilted up. She said nothing and then he was leading her from the door. And he prayed he was making the right decision.

  * * *

  “Tell me about your childhood,” Camilla said once they were in the carriage.

  Will kept his curtains closed. “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me some of your favorite memories.”

  He did. Most of the stories involved Raven, but there were a few of him and his father either fishing or swimming. His father seemed to spend a great deal of time teaching him how to do things.

  “That was how he bonded with me,” Will said. “He didn’t believe in true idleness. If there was something that needed to be done, he was doing it. My mother loved him for that. He was dependable. She never worried about anything. I don’t think I ever saw her worry for longer than a moment. The moment my father got home, he made everything better for her.” Will smiled. “I think if the world would pay him for making my mother smile, he’d have left the military to do just that.”

  Camilla closed her eyes and imagined everything he’d said. “You were happy?”

  “I was.”

  There was a sad note in his voice that made her open her eyes. “Did that change?”

  He nodded and crossed his arms. “It was my fault. My mother found my note from Annie’s father and demanded I go and marry her.” He frowned. “Until that day, I don’t think I ever defied her. It broke her heart and, as you can imagine, my father was not pleased that I’d upset his wife.”

  Camilla could imagine his mother’s disappointment and his father’s anger. “If you could go back—”

  “I’d do as they asked,” he said. “I’d do the right thing and marry Annie.”

  His words struck her, though she knew they shouldn’t have. He wasn’t saying he loved Annie. In fact, she knew he didn’t. He’d have married Annie to make his parents happy.

  But then… where would that have left Camilla? They’d never have met. She’d never have been allowed to get to know him or even entertain the thought of him being her muse. Camilla was no Julia. She had no appetite for married men.

  But then, Julia had been in her father’s life first, so what did that mean for Francine?

  It was such a messy situation. Relationships should never be so messy, but then man— especially men— had the bad habit of complicating matters unnecessarily.

  “Do you ever see Annie?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  Her eyes widened. So, Will’s life wasn’t as neat as it should be either. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s… complicated.”

  Camilla didn’t want to hear anymore. She looked out the window and tried to concentrate on the city. Yet she couldn’t becau
se Will’s situation was ringing in her mind.

  If she were ever to marry—which she still wasn’t sure she would—she wanted the relationship to be… neat. She didn’t want the ghost of the past to haunt her future. She already had enough to deal with when considering her father.

  “She’s married,” Will said. “But she’d rather be married to me. Therefore, I avoid her.”

  She remembered him saying that Annie was unhappy in her marriage. She also remembered telling him that happiness and love was a choice.

  Just like his father chose to make his wife happy. Everyone had a choice.

  “Camilla.”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  4 3

  * * *

  She wasn’t ready to look at Will when he called to her, but she did.

  He leaned forward. “I have a past. I’d apologize for it if I could make it better, but it won’t.”

  She shook her head. “I know you can’t change your past any more than I can change my family.”

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t change your whole family. I’m sure you still love your brother.”

  She blinked to hide her shock. “How do you know?”

  “Because you are far more optimistic than you’re pretending to be. As I said before, you’re sad right now, but one day, you won’t be.” He smiled. “I’d like to be able to help you get through this.”

  He wanted to treat her as his father treated her mother. And she wanted to let him.

  But it was too soon to make such a decision.

  When the carriage stopped, they got out, a

  nd she realized he was right. They were very close to Hyde Park and she could see in the distance the phaetons were heading to the open fields.

  She couldn’t imagine a time when London was mostly fields and greenery, but that was what had been there. Instead of the residences that Samuel Pepys Cockerell was designing for the area, there had been barns and small village homes.

  And then there had been the ox-carts that had driven men and women to their deaths. Large crowds had stood where she stood, jeering for the deaths of murderers and highwaymen.

  Lord and ladies alike had all met their deaths in this place.

  The last lord, an earl, to be hung for murder was in 1760. Since then, Camilla wasn’t sure how London went about handing out justice.

  She looked at Will, who moved to stand at her side and remembered what she’d seen him do in the park. How ironic that he’d have held a man at knife-point in the same area that more than a few other men had met death.

  He jutted his strong chin at the home they were standing in front of. “This was where my family lived, but the house is gone now.”

  In its place were neat white stone townhomes in perfect rows much like the ones in Belgravia in Central London.

  Just as Mr. Cockerell had intended.

  Will turned back to the beautiful townhomes, but as she studied him, she grew sure that his mind was elsewhere, seeing the past. “They died here,” he said and she knew he spoke of his parents. “My father’s death was sudden. He was ill when he found out about Annie. I think the disappointment did him in.” He swallowed. “And my mother… without him to tell her that everything would be all right… I think she just didn’t want to be without him. Paul might have saved her, I think.”

  “Paul?”

  “My son.” He looked at her again. “That was my son’s name.”

  He’d never spoken the boy’s name before.

  She touched his arm and suddenly she regretted dragging him here and taking him to a place where he’d known heartache. He wanted to make her happy because he loved her. Camilla wasn’t sure what she felt for him, wasn’t sure she was capable of loving him as she should, but she could admit to caring for him.

  And that made her want to see him happy.

  “Tell me a happy moment with your mother.”

  He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He said nothing for a long time and then he shook his head. “She was everything to me and I hurt her.”

  Her heart stuttered to a halt. “Let’s go back.”

  He lifted a brow and looked down at her. “You wish to leave already?”

  She nodded and slipped her hand into his. Because of the carriage’s position behind him, no one from the street could see her action. “Yes, I’m ready to leave.”

  He was still and silent as he looked over her face. The translucent green of his irises surrounded by those heavy dark lashes made her heart flutter.

  This man, whose face seemed to have been sculpted by a master artist was in love with her.

  Her!

  When the hard man before her softened, she found him completely irresistible.

  He squeezed her hand. ”I’m sorry this was not the adventure you were hoping for. Let me make it up to you.”

  “That’s not necessary…”

  But she didn’t stop him as he took her back into the carriage.

  They were both surprised when another man followed them in.

  She gave a cry as the man closed the door behind him.

  He was dirty, covered in soot. “Glad I caught you. I found the woman.”

  The woman?

  Will had looked ready to pounce but recognition made him calm. “What are you doing here?”

  The dark-eyed man completely ignored Camilla’s presence. “I found her. I know where she will be tonight.”

  Will’s eyes widened but then he calmed. “We’ll discuss this later.” He glanced in Camilla’s direction.

  With both men looking at her, she tried to hide her suspicion and anger and then turned away when sadness brushed her heart. He was looking for another woman.

  The woman could be anyone to him. This is likely about the work he does for Van Dero.

  But he’s a man, so therefore there remains a chance…

  There’s always a chance…

  “Don’t stop your conversation on my behalf.” She kept her eyes on the door as she opened it. “This woman seems important. I’ll call a hackney for myself.”

  Will covered her hand with his own. “Camilla, it’s not what you think—”

  “Do you think me a fool!” The outburst came from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Her heart felt crippled. She blinked back her pain so she could see him clearly. “I will not be your fool. I will never be any man’s fool.”

  Will grabbed her face. “Camilla…”

  She jerked away from his alluring voice and soft touch and focused on getting out the door.

  Will sighed right before his arm went around her.

  Camilla gave a shout as he pulled her into his lap. “Let me go.”

  “Where is she?”

  She stiffened and almost thought Will was asking her, but then she realized he was ignoring her.

  She struggled in his inappropriate hold, but he would not relent. “I’ll scream,” she warned.

  “But then you’ll call attention to yourself and you’ll be forced to marry me,” Will said without any indication of feeling in his tone. “We wouldn’t want you to be made a fool, would we?”

  The last held a hint of irritation.

  Camilla jerked but only because she wished him to know that she protested his hold. She hadn’t put true strength in her wiggling. She knew it was futile.

  She didn’t want to hear about his search for another woman. Trying to pretend she was elsewhere, she looked up at the roof. This position also caused her head to lean back and touch Will’s shoulder. And if she turned her head, she could meet his eyes.

  But she didn’t, even as she knew he was staring at her.

  He settled his other arm around her and his deep exhalation brushed her cheek as he turned back to their intruder. “Where is Azalea?”

  “Azalea,” Camilla murmured. “Such a pretty name.” Whore!

  She was so glad she hadn’t told Will what she’d started to feel for him. He’d never know how much she’d grown to care for him. Now, all she could do was hope there was still t
ime to undo the damage he’d done in her.

  No more romance. No more love. She wanted to feel nothing.

  The man glanced at Camilla’s direction. “Is this conversation safe for her to hear?”

  “Just tell me, Boran,” Will commanded.

  Camilla stiffened at the urgency in Will’s tone. This Azalea was important to him.

  Boran cleared his throat. “She’ll be in Covent Garden. She’s to meet with Lady Bowbon.”

  “Bowbon?” Camilla asked. “Ruth Bowbon?” The name wasn’t popular.

  Boran turned his dark eyes to Camilla. “You know her?”

  “She’s a good friend of mine. What’s going on?” She turned to Will for the answer to that. Then she gasped. “Are you involved with Ruth?” Would he truly do something so cruel to her? Could Ruth? She didn’t put anything past anyone anymore.

  Now she truly put her weight into getting off Will’s lap, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “Stop.” He jerked her back in place. “I only ever saw Lady Ruth when she was with you. I would not tell a woman I love her only to be with someone else.”

  “Such morals,” she mocked.

  As though men hadn’t been doing that very thing since the dawn of the ages.

  Will grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “Do you truly think I could love you and want another woman?”

  “Anything is possible.” There was no hesitation in her answer. “Absolutely anything.”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  4 4

  * * *

  They were quiet for a long time, so long that Camilla wished Boran would say something and break whatever hold Will’s green eyes had over her.

  Will finally broke the silence and frowned. “This isn’t going to work.”

  Camilla’s stomach fell. Was he letting her go? Was he done with her? Had he decided she wasn’t worth the fight and didn’t love her after all? “What isn’t going to work?” Her voice came out far stronger than she felt and she was glad for that.

  “You being jealous,” he said. “We’re going to have to work on that. Together.” His hold on her chin softened and then he stroked her cheek. “All I am is yours, Cammie.”

  She closed her eyes against his tenderness. Her heart squeezed.