The Exception of an Earl

by Deborah Wilson

  Her father paled.

  Morgana let go of Camilla and ran to her father. “Please! Don’t hurt my father! Stop it!”

  Will let the marquess go with a shove that sent him into a chair.

  A newly weeping Morgana crawled into her father’s lap.

  The marquess grabbed her but not to comfort her. Now that Camilla understood him, she knew the man was using Morgana as a shield. “Get out of my house.”

  Will turned to Camilla. “Are you ready to leave?”

  “My daughter is going nowhere with you.” Her father didn’t even bother to look at Camilla. “Leave. Now. Before I send for the authorities.”

  “I’m not leaving her.” Will’s eyes remained deadly. “Send for the authorities if you wish.”

  Camilla’s heart fluttered. She moved over to Will. “Let’s go.”

  “Camilla, you’re staying,” her father said.

  Camilla’s hand paused in midair. Will’s arm was only an inch away.

  He looked down at her hand.

  She dropped it without touching him.

  She’d never disobeyed her father outright before. She was lost and unsure of what to do.

  Will glared at her. And she knew he was done.

  Finally, he was done with her.

  She lowered her eyes. Then his arm went around her waist and she gasped as he yanked her to his side.

  His eyes burned her. “Are you seriously going to make me do this?”

  Do what?

  “Unhand my daughter.” Marcel James was on his feet. He positioned Morgana in front of him, still using the pitiful child as a shield. “She is not yours. I will never give you permission to wed her.”

  “She doesn’t need it,” Will said. “She’s old enough to make her own decisions.” His arm became like stone around her hips. “We’re leaving.”

  Then they left. Camilla skipped on her toes. So tight was Will’s hold on her that her feet barely touched the ground at all.

  Then they were in the carriage and gone.

  Will leaned back on his side and crossed his arms. “It seems I was wrong.”

  Camilla was still dazed. She didn’t follow his words. “Wrong about what?”

  “About the lengths I would go to be with the woman I love.” He leaned forward. His eyes still burned with righteous fury. “I was wrong. I’m stealing you, Camilla.”

  * * *

  Will was stealing her like the hero in her book.

  He was officially her Mr. Peyton brought to life.

  As he watched the panic come over her features, Will felt the beginnings of regret. But then he banished them aside. She’d all but made him do it. Her father had pushed his hand further.

  How dare the man think to keep him away from her? Especially after what he’d done.

  Will would not leave her in her father’s care again. Not for another night.

  He ran his hands through his hair. “I hadn’t planned for it to happen like this.” He’d been willing to wait for her to love him. He’d have married her properly, with her father’s permission.

  But just thinking about the marquess had Will angry again.

  Though Azalea hadn’t likely killed any women recently, the women were still vanishing.

  Did the man not care at all for his family?

  He thought of the way Hornstein had used Morgana and fisted his hands.

  “I’m sorry,” Camilla whispered. “If you want, we can go back. You can leave me there.”

  “What?”

  “You clearly don’t want to do this.” She was watching him, watching the rage grow in his eyes. “There is still time to fix this.”

  “I want to marry you.” Actually having Camilla was the one good thing in this whole mess. He ran a hand through his hair and pushed out a breath. “I just wanted this to be the one traditional thing I did in life.” He had planned to woo and court her before they married. Now, he’d be doing it after.

  She moved to sit by him and took his hand. “We can still wait. My father isn’t going to call the authorities. He doesn’t want you to have me, but if this ruined my reputation, he’d have no choice.”

  “If you think I’m going to allow you to live under his rule for one more day…”

  “We can speak to my mother.” She blushed and bit her lower lip. “She might be able to keep my father away. Apparently, she has some sway over him now.”

  “Does she?” He grunted. “And yet still he sleeps in another house.”

  “I don’t know if she wants him anymore,” Camilla said. “Honestly, she’s been pleasant the last few times they’ve been in a room together, but I haven’t seen her beg or even hint that she wanted him to come home.” Camilla’s eyes became thoughtful. “Maybe it’s pity that has changed her heart.”

  “Pity for the woman who has taken her husband?”

  Camilla shook her head. “No, for him.” She squeezed his hand. “Morgana said he was sick. What if he is?”

  “Do you think so?” Will hadn’t noticed any sign of illness, but then again, not all illnesses acted the same. “Has he ever given you any reason to think so?”

  She thought about it and swallowed. “I don’t know, but he would disappear for long periods of time. What if he only went away when he was at his worst? What if that is the reason I haven’t seen him as much these last few years?”

  He cupped the back of her neck. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Camilla still cared for her terrible father. That was simply her heart. She couldn’t ignore anyone when they were hurt.

  She’d taken his hand on the street when he’d slowly began to slip into memories of his scattered past. And then he’d seen the way she’d looked at Morgana. She’d wanted to push the crying child away, yet she hadn’t. It had been clear from Camilla’s shocked expression that the two didn’t have a relationship, but if he’d only gone by Morgana’s expression alone, it would have been easy to think they were close.

  Camilla was simply sensitive to the hurting. That went for Morgana and their father.

  She was devoted to her father. Will was jealous of that. Camilla would likely never stop loving him no matter what he did. She would always have hope in Hornstein.

  And Will suspected that Hornstein would always be there to damage it over and over again.

  Marriage could protect her only so much, but he couldn’t protect her heart.

  He’d feared her mother’s disdain of lords would get in his way, but now he feared a greater enemy.

  Her father.

  Would her love for her father stop her from ever trusting Will with her heart?

  He wanted so much for her to love him.

  He would love her either way, but it would be nice if she felt the same.

  Better than nice.

  But for now…

  “We’ll speak to your mother and see if there is a way to save your reputation and keep you safe.” He sighed. “And if your father is ill, we’ll find out.”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  4 7

  * * *

  “I’ll give you two some time alone.”

  Camilla looked up as Will stood. They sat with her mother in the garden. The three had taken tea together while Camilla had shared what she’d learned at her father’s house.

  Her mother had stiffened at hearing that Camilla had gone to Julia’s, but otherwise, she remained calm. She’d thanked Will for escorting her and had promised to keep Camilla’s father from her.

  “Morgana was right. Your father is ill.” Her mother had shared those words the moment after Camilla had recounted what had taken place at the house.

  Camilla hadn’t reacted, but she knew she would later. For now, there was too much going on.

  “Lord Hornstein can live forever or he can die at any time. I don’t know how syphilis works. Julia has it as well.” There was neither bitterness nor triumph on her tone. She’d spoken as though it were all facts.

  Francine had found out the truth when she’d taken her husband
to see the duke and duchess. Camilla’s father had asked for aid right in front of Camilla’s mother.

  Will touched her shoulder, and she covered his hand with her own.

  She glanced at her mother to find the marchioness watching them. Her eyes were blank.

  “Shall I go?” Will asked.

  Camilla didn’t know how much time speaking with her mother would take. Will could be waiting all night.

  As if knowing her thoughts, he squeezed her shoulder and said, “I’ll leave.”

  Her body jumped with panic. Even though she understood he didn’t mean to leave forever, she hadn’t liked his words.

  “I’ll return,” he promised.

  Her mother said, “Join us for dinner, Lord Sencio.”

  “Thank you, my lady. I would enjoy that.”

  She calmed and then slowly let him go.

  Will shared a warm look with her then bowed to her mother and left the garden.

  The marchioness’ gaze followed him. “He’s going out of his way to win you over.”

  Camilla agreed. She didn’t think herself worth all the trouble. Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if Will gave up on her someday soon. It would hurt her, likely more than she was prepared to admit, but there would be little shock.

  Only crippling, ugly pain.

  “You’re right to assume your father will not send for the authorities,” her mother said. “But not because of your reputation but his own. He wouldn’t allow word to spread that Lord Sencio made him fearful in his own home.”

  Camilla looked down at her cold tea. The shade was green, like Will’s eyes. Camilla had told the housekeeper to buy the lighter leaves. The taste was softer. More earthy.

  She thought about the way Will had defended her at her father’s house and then of the way Morgana had jumped into the fray. The sisters were more alike than Camilla had thought. They would forever be on their father’s side no matter how foolish they looked.

  But if he died...

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked her mother. “Why does everyone feel the need to protect me from the truth?” Her brother had a mistress. Will knew. Her mother knew. Her mother had even known about her father’s illness.

  “I’m not sure why I didn’t tell you, Camilla. I want to say I was protecting you. The truth would only make you soft and your father would take advantage of it until his dying breath. But then… he asked me not to tell you and so…”

  “Do you still love him?” Camilla asked.

  “Don’t ask me those questions.” Her mother kept her gaze averted as she put down her cup. “That is not for you to ask.”

  “I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

  A terrible bout of silence fell between them but not a long one. Camilla had too many questions. “Why do you think he didn’t tell me?”

  She shrugged. “That, I’ll never understand. There’s no advantage in keeping it a secret, not for him. Only for you.” Francine looked at her.

  “Me?” She couldn’t imagine her father doing anything for her.

  “I think… he may have been purposeful in pushing you away, Camilla. Keep in mind, he’s a selfish man, but… he does have his moments. If he died and you loved him…”

  “I’d be sad for a long time after that.”

  “Maybe he knows he doesn’t deserve to be remembered fondly.” Her mother got a far-off look.

  And Camilla could not hold back her next question. “Are you ill as well? Is it possible…”

  “No. He and I…” She shook her head. “No. The woman he got the illness from, he met her after leaving me.”

  “Wait. I thought you said Julia was there before you.”

  Francine narrowed her eyes. “I never told you that. I…” She frowned. “Sencio.”

  “No, I heard you that night. Will told me nothing.”

  Her mother took a deep breath. “Your father loves Julia, but he loves no one more than himself. He was unfaithful to her as well. He’s paying for his choices.” Again, the glee and triumph were lacking in her tone. Was she not happy? Where was her righteous anger? Why wasn’t she parading the news through the streets?

  Why did it seem she didn’t care?

  Maybe she did care. Maybe she still loved her husband.

  Camilla didn’t know. She didn’t know how marriages worked and her mother didn’t seem willing to explain it to her.

  “Poor girl. She’ll be left alone if your father dies.”

  “You mean Morgana?” Camilla’s thoughts were pulled back to the girl. What would happen to her? “Does Miss Walker have family?”

  “They abandoned her long ago. No one will take that girl in.”

  Camilla’s gut twisted. A thought slipped into her mind, but she pushed it away and forbid herself from thinking about Morgana any further.

  “Have you heard about an herbalist named Azalea?” Camilla jumped when her mother grabbed her hand on the table.

  “Who told you about that woman?” The marchioness’ eyes were full of fear.

  Camilla shook her head. She didn’t want to tell her mother the truth, that her father had cared so little for Camilla’s safety that he’d sent his own daughter out to get her. “She’s meeting with Ruth tonight.”

  “Stay away from Lady Ruth,” her mother commanded, her nails biting into Camilla’s flesh. “You stay away from her. She’s dangerous.”

  Will had said the same thing.

  But Camilla didn’t agree. Considering the fact that Azalea was a healer and Ruth had trouble breathing, it was more than likely that Ruth was seeking the woman out for a cure. “You’ve heard about the healer?”

  Her mother nodded. “Your father spoke of a female herbalist while speaking to the duke and duchess. Lord Van Dero advised him against searching for her. Stay away from Lady Ruth. I forbid you from speaking to her further.”

  Camilla gasped. Her mother had never forbidden her anything.

  The woman had screamed and complained for years but not once had she actually kept Camilla from something she really wanted. And Camilla cared about her friendships.

  Francine took back her hand. “I’ve heard the rumors about Van Dero. Deadly rumors. I don’t know how many of them are true or which tales are actually about his predecessor, but if he says this woman is dangerous, you should be mindful of that.”

  Camilla understood, but when she thought about the possibility of Ruth disappearing forever… she couldn’t just sit back and let this happen. She had to speak to Ruth.

  But how to get away?

  “Do you love him?” her mother asked.

  “Who? Father?”

  “No, I know you love your father… and Luke.” Her mother’s gaze held meaning. “I’m referring to Sencio.”

  Camilla closed her eyes and imagined Will at all his fine moments.

  There were many.

  Will in uniform at his ball.

  Will protecting the maid.

  Will protecting Camilla from her father.

  And then there were the small moments.

  Him holding her book away at the party with a dimpled smirk.

  Their first kiss on the balcony.

  Him crowding her into the darkness of the alley.

  Camilla wasn’t sure if there had ever been a moment when she didn’t want him.

  Even when he'd frightened her in the park. She’d only stayed away because, at the time, he’d been the biggest risk to her heart and sanity.

  But he wasn’t anymore.

  In fact, Camilla felt more secure with him than anyone else.

  How could that be when they’d met less than a month ago?

  Even now, she wanted to be with him. She wanted to live with him and grow old with him.

  She wanted to have him for herself. His past mattered very little when she compared it to the man he’d become.

  He may have never wanted to be a lord, but that was exactly who he’d always been. He defied man and their laws. He was captivating. Original. He was what Camilla t
hought the first lords of England had been like. The makers of laws, possessing the might of character and strength.

  But that could change.

  Suddenly, she didn’t see Will anymore, but Luke.

  Just thinking about how sweet Emily would react if she ever found out the truth broke Camilla all over again.

  “I don’t know if I love him,” Camilla admitted.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  4 8

  * * *

  When Camilla’s mother didn’t respond, she added, “But if I could love anyone, it would be him.”

  If she fell in love, it would be with Will. That very thought was terrifying. She almost looked around the garden to make sure he hadn’t heard her.

  Should love make her nervous? That was troubling.

  He had to be disappointed that she’d yet to say she loved him. Her indecision was driving her mad. “I just don’t know.”

  Her mother nodded but still gave no reply either way.

  Was she not going to help Camilla figure out what to do?

  “What do you think?” she pressed.

  Her mother sighed. “Why ask me anything? I’m hardly a great choice for how to choose men much less act around them.” She shrugged. “You should ask someone else.”

  “Who? Grandmother?”

  “No, not her.” Her mother’s eyes widened. “Sweet woman, but she’s the one who advised me to look the other way when your father met with Julia.”

  “You don’t think that sound advice?”

  Her mother narrowed her eyes and then she turned away. There was a slight lift in her chin. “No, I don’t. Forgive me. Perhaps I’m foolish to think two people who stand before God should try and keep their oaths. It simply isn’t within me to share. Not ever.”

  Camilla smiled. Sometimes, her mother could be so strong it was a wonder she could be weak anywhere else. “I couldn’t share either. If I give my whole heart to someone, I want their whole heart in return.”

  Her mother patted her hand again. “But people make mistakes. I’m not saying there won’t be mistakes, but... one shouldn’t live in his or her’s mistakes.” She laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I’ve made mistakes. Very few with your father but many with you and Luke. I’ve lived in my self-pity and destructive nature for far too long.” Her eyes were sad when she met Camilla’s. “I’ve ruined your lives.”