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How to Train Your Earl

Page 6

by Amelia Grey


  “I understand all you say and agree,” Julia replied calmly. “Both of you indulge me and let me finish. Before you went to France, Brina, I remember asking you why you thought you would be happy joining the Sisters of Pilwillow Crossings and you said, ‘Because I’m not happy where I am.’ Tell me, are you happy where you are now?”

  Brina had lived the past five years thinking she’d never be happy again because of Stewart’s death and the subsequent things that came close to driving her to madness. Now, living in the house in front of the girls’ school and helping the Sisters at Pilwillow Crossings, she’d found a certain amount of contentment.

  Until today. Now, along with the feelings of resentment toward the earl, she felt an anxious excitement coiling inside her too. As if that passageway to adventure the earl talked about was before her, and all she had to do was step into it.

  “I believe I was until Blacknight showed up and announced his preposterous wager.”

  “Well, he obviously didn’t want you to agree to marry him today.”

  “Didn’t he?” Brina asked.

  “No. He wouldn’t have made the wager if he had. He would have simply come over and asked for your hand like any gentleman would have. He’s a different kind of man. Strong, self-confident men want to pursue the lady they are after. What would be the pleasure for either of you if he asked you to marry him and you said yes or no immediately? There wouldn’t be any value in that. Declining gave him exactly what he wanted. A reason for you to run and for him to pursue you.”

  “You may be right,” Brina said, thinking back on the earl’s shenanigans in a whole new light. “He said something similar.”

  Julia pursed her lips in thought again. “Your first inclination was the right one, Brina. You should find a way to turn the tables on him and agree to marry him but with conditions he can’t possibly accept.”

  “What?” Adeline exclaimed, looking at Julia as if she’d lost her mind.

  “No,” Brina persisted. “I don’t want to marry him.”

  “I know. I’m not suggesting that. Only that you get even with the rake. He’s made a very public wager involving you, but you have no say in it. Only the men at White’s can put up a bet. You should stand up to him and make your own wager.”

  “I can’t believe it, but think I’m agreeing to this too,” Adeline added, placing her cup on the tray beside Julia’s. “He needs to be taught a lesson he won’t soon forget.”

  The idea of doing something to upset the earl’s life as he had upended hers was intriguing. It would serve him right if she could get the upper hand in the situation he’d created and beat him at his own game by forcing him to accept a wager from her. One he couldn’t possibly win.

  “I don’t know,” Brina answered soberly, shaking her head. “The possibility sounds good, but I’m not sure I can do it.”

  “Sure you can,” Julia encouraged. “As an example, everyone has heard Blacknight’s instincts are superb when it comes to gambling, and he’s certainly fought more than one duel over a card game. I’ve heard few can match his gaming skills. Maybe you could say if he can manage not to gamble during the rest of the Season, you will marry him. Of course, he can’t quit. He’s a master at it. Men seek him out to play against him. So, he will lose the bet and your hand in marriage.”

  “So—what would you win if he lost?” Adeline asked Brina. “A bet has to work both ways. He loses you, but what do you win?”

  “I don’t know,” Brina said. “What?”

  Julia shook her head. “That is up to you. What do you want, Brina? What is something the earl could give that would make you happy if he lost? Only you can decide what that is.”

  Brina studied on Julia’s words. Didn’t she have what she wanted? A home of her own and a life that was filled with people who needed her to help them. A way to atone for what she’d done. What she didn’t need was a man.

  “If you are going to consider what Julia is suggesting,” Adeline said. “One thing you must remember is this is a very serious matter the earl has brought to your door. If you offer him a wager, and he accepts, you have to ponder the consequences of what will happen if you lose.”

  Marriage.

  That possibility was too hurtful to even think about. Brina threw her napkin on top of the tea tray, rattling the empty cups. She rose and walked over to the window and looked out at the spring day. It had been perfect until the earl had arrived at her door. She had come through the dark times in her life and had definite plans. Now she was not only unsettled, she was angry with Blacknight for inserting himself into her life, making her think about the possibility of doing something to get even with him, and worse, making her feel the wonderful, sensuous sensation of desire once again.

  Love and marriage were two things she never wanted in her life again under any circumstances.

  She didn’t want to ever have the possibility of going through the kind of heartbreaking loss, hot, bitter anger, and soul-destroying despair that had crippled her for years. The only thing she really wanted was something the earl couldn’t give her.

  Redemption for what she’d done had to come from someone much higher up than the Earl of Blacknight.

  Chapter 5

  Zane walked through the wide double doors and into the spacious entryway of the Grand Hall, where the premier parties and dances of the Season were always held. Its marbled floors led to the famous ballroom as well as secret little alcoves and candlelit corridors that were perfect for romantic rendezvous between young ladies and courtly beaus or star-crossed lovers.

  After shedding his black velvet evening cloak, he came face-to-face with his older sister, Patricia. She’d undoubtedly been waiting for him to arrive.

  Smiling in her usual impatient way, she curtsied and said, “My lord, I’m glad to see you actually came tonight. I wondered if you would.”

  “Good evening, Pat. You’re looking lovely this evening in your sky-blue gown.” And she was. She was eight years older than Zane but not one year of it showed in her face or appearance. Patricia had inherited the regal good looks of most of the Browning family. Tall, slender, and with hair and eyes dark enough to give a mysterious appeal but light enough to remain approachable. “I told everyone at the family dinner I’d be here.”

  She reached up to accept the kiss he gave to her cheek. “Yes, I know, but I wasn’t sure I could believe you. No one else was either. Must I count the times the family expected you to join us for an event and you never arrived?”

  “Probably not,” he answered.

  “It’s downright unchivalrous of you to actually attend and prove us all wrong for the first time in years.”

  “But necessary, I think you’ll agree.” He handed his cloak and hat off to the attendant, but unfortunately not his gloves. For such a formal evening as this, they must be worn. Otherwise he might accidently touch a young lady’s bare arm. Zane considered it more useless Society rules.

  “After what you did to the gracious Mrs. Feld this week, I certainly do. The wager you placed was shocking to everyone in the ton. If you thought it would make anyone think you had settled down and were ready to seriously take on your responsibilities, you are mistaken.”

  “You can’t say I didn’t try,” Zane offered with a wry smile.

  Patricia rolled her eyes as if rejecting that claim, but said, “It was quite clever of you. Of course, it didn’t fool any of us for a moment. We know you have a better chance of winning a foot race with a horse than taking Mrs. Feld’s hand to the altar in marriage.”

  Zane chuckled as music and chatter from the large ballroom drifted toward him when they started walking.

  “I’m flattered by the abundance of confidence you have in me.”

  “I’m only being realistic,” Patricia offered without conceit, reaching up to push a pearl-tipped comb farther into her dark tresses. “You should be too. Men have been trying to put a dent in Mrs. Feld’s armor for years now. You’re not likely to be the first, even with your
generous good looks, title, and ingenious exploit to gain her attention.” She gave him a quick appreciative smile. “I’m not surprised you have the courage to try. You always have been a devil when it comes to behaving badly.”

  “You know I can’t resist a challenge,” he said.

  “Nor a wager, it seems. No reason you should, but climbing a steep hill is a challenge. What you are trying to accomplish is folly.”

  “Folly can be quite enjoyable,” he reminded her.

  “For a time, anyway,” Patricia answered in a somber tone and nodded to a couple who walked past them before giving her attention back to Zane. “If only Cranston were up to a little folly, I should welcome it.”

  “You mentioned last night he was ill. How is he today?”

  “Miserable. The cough lingers and he’s a dear about it. Kind enough not to want it to bother anyone.”

  “I’ll drop by and say hello to him.”

  “That should cheer him. He’s rather pleased I’m now the sister of an earl.”

  Zane smiled indulgently.

  “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but some of the matrons in Society are upset with you for placing the wager, though none of them would dare say a word to you about it. Now that you’re an earl, they’ll all want to remain in good standing with you, no matter what they say behind your back.”

  “I’ll consider that useful information I don’t need,” he answered dryly. He hadn’t expected anyone to approve of what he’d done. And he wasn’t sorry for it. He had no doubt Mrs. Feld would make it a lively chase.

  “I don’t know Mrs. Feld well enough to say much about her, but apparently there are those who do consider her saintly because of the work she does for the Sisters of Pilwillow Crossings.”

  “The abbey?”

  “Yes. Not many have the courage to go and offer assistance for the charitable work they do. Including me.”

  An unusual twinge of guilt tightened his chest. “Does she support it as she does the girl’s school?”

  “One would assume. Quite frankly, not many really want to know. They’d rather pretend she doesn’t go there at all. As I said, I don’t know her well, but I’m never above prying if—”

  “No,” Zane cut in and said firmly. He would find out anything he wanted to know about Mrs. Feld without his sister’s help.

  Patricia moved her shoulders a little and smiled knowingly. “As you wish, my lord. I had some flowers delivered to her, by the way. I thought I should do something nice to let her know not everyone in the family has your propensities to be uncivil.”

  “Thank you.” What else could he say? He was glad Patricia had.

  Zane wasn’t surprised the older ladies of the ton found his wager abominable. Men, on the other hand, were entirely different creatures. They might say he’d done an abhorrent thing but most, if not all, the members of White’s he’d talked to had already put down their money. The great majority collected was against him winning her hand. That was unexpected. But he hadn’t heard of anyone, including his uncles, thinking it beyond the pale to have put up the bet, except of course, Mrs. Feld.

  Remembrance of her teased his senses and aroused an eagerness to see her.

  “I meant no harm of any kind to Mrs. Feld,” Zane offered. “Unusual wagers at White’s is commonplace. I hope no one is thinking she was a willing participant in what was my doing.”

  “Gracious no.” Patricia gave a polite nod of greeting to someone behind Zane. “The ladies are all jealous as thieving mice because you didn’t go after them or one of their daughters. Who can blame them? At least with one of them, you would have had a chance to win their hand. I’m sure some of them will try to lure you in anyway. Now tell me, have you given any thought to the request I made of you Tuesday evening?”

  So, they were finally getting around to the reason she was waiting in the atrium for him to arrive. He thought back to the dinner his uncles had arranged. What was it his sister had wanted?

  “If you’ll remember,” he said, stalling for enough time to recall her particular wish, “there were two dozen family members there and many appeals were made to me by everyone.”

  “Yes, but I’m your sister. Surely that gives me some measure of special consideration in the long list of favors you were asked to grant.”

  “I don’t mind financing your travel, Pat,” he offered as what she’d asked for finally popped into mind. “Go, if you want, but why the devil do you want to go to the Americas?”

  “The experience, of course. Besides, a visit there is all the rage right now. I don’t want to be the last person in the ton to see what it’s like. I’ve heard summers in Boston are quite nice and some have even bought homes—the Chesters, the Graveses, and the Mickletons. I’d like to assess the place for myself. So, thank you. But, of course, once I see their fashions, I might need to have some dresses and gowns made while there. You understand, don’t you?”

  She was thinking about clothing, of which she had plenty, while he was still trying to go through the immense number of account books concerning the holdings for the entailed property in order to understand exactly what he was supposed to be in control of. Zane was finding out quickly that he was used to a much more leisurely day than that of an earl with many properties and businesses. His uncles arrived early and stayed late. The solicitor and two accountants spent most of the day with him as well.

  And that was only the half of it. In addition to his family’s requests, he’d been bombarded with various gentlemen who wanted to know where he stood on the politics of London, England, and the rest of the world including America. He’d never had a reason to take sides in Parliament. Apparently, that would now be required of him, but not immediately. He assured them he was a fair man and would treat everyone equally and with respect, no matter if he was a farmer, silversmith, blacksmith, or earl.

  Zane lost count of the men who wanted him to consider their daughters, dowries, and wedding offers that would profit him much more than the gentle Mrs. Feld’s properties.

  He wasn’t interested in any of them. He’d much rather be left alone to pursue her at a leisurely pace and as he so desired. His uncles would have none of that. They would have rather he married her yesterday.

  “As promised, Pat, I will look into everyone’s allowances and see what I can do to increase them all, but right now, there are more important matters concerning the estates I must take care of.”

  “I understand.” She held up a hand, seeming content that she’d received from him most of what she wanted. “A consideration is all I ask.”

  They stopped in front of the two sets of double doors that had been swung wide to allow entrance into the ballroom. It had been a couple of years, or maybe more, since Zane had attended such a grand affair of the Season given by the elite members of the ton. Young ladies who had come of age in the past year were officially available for all eligible men to consider for marriage. And, it was the beginning of the husband hunt for the young ladies as well. For Society, the entire Season was more about that intricate dance of manners and settlements than the thrill of romance.

  The Grand Hall was teeming with ladies dressed in colorful silk gowns, beautifully adorned with beads, bows, and lace. Their elaborate headpieces rivaled the latest fashions in Paris. Gentlemen wore their usual starched white shirts, neckcloths, waistcoats, and black evening coats with long tails.

  The ballroom wasn’t without its share of glamour either. It was decorated to the hilt with vases and urns overflowing with colorful flowers. Lengths of shimmering silk streamed from the towering ceilings and cascading ribbons of satin fluttered around the fluted columns, chandeliers, and every gleaming sconce on the walls. Zane had never seen so many brightly burning candles. Servants roamed about holding trays filled with glasses of champagne for everyone to indulge in. On the far end of the ballroom, a well-tuned orchestra played one melodious score after another and would continue into the wee hours of the morning.

  Zane had forgotten how
lavish the parties were. And the hell of it was that his family thought he lived a self-indulgent life.

  He quickly scanned the ballroom for Mrs. Feld, but he didn’t see her among the gathering. His stomach tightened at the thought she might not be in attendance. The gossip about his wager was all over Town. Maybe she wasn’t as strong as he’d thought. He scanned the room again with more care the second time. A leap in his breath caught solid in his chest. His pulse ticked up at the sight of her silvery-blond hair. She was standing with another lady next to a line of chairs that had been set up along the side wall near the dance floor for the widows, wallflowers, and spinsters.

  Stifling feelings of wanting to rush over to her, he relaxed and smiled. He didn’t know how badly he’d wanted to see her until he was afraid he wouldn’t.

  Time for the evening to begin.

  Turning back to Patricia, he said, “I heard the call for dancers to line up.” Taking hold of his sister’s hand, he placed it in the crook of his arm. “Do you think Cranston will mind if I have my first dance of the evening with you?”

  “Not at all,” she said sweetly, seemingly surprised and delighted that he’d asked her. “He would love it and so would I. And don’t forget your cousin Thelma is here tonight. Be sure to ask her for a dance too. She came out last year but didn’t make a match, the poor dear. Perhaps you can help her find a suitable husband.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’ll be happy to dance with her, but I’ll leave the matchmaking to other members of the family.”

  “Nonsense. It’s your place to do it now. The family expects it.”

  Zane grimaced. The list of all the family required of him grew longer each day.

  More than an hour later, Zane moved away from the crowd and leaned a shoulder against one of the columns in the ballroom. The only thing on his mind was having a dance with Mrs. Feld. As London’s newest peer, he hadn’t been idle since entering the ballroom. He’d indulged his uncles Syl and Hector by dancing with two of the young ladies making their debuts and had conversations with half a dozen others. They were all beautiful, intelligent, and inviting in different ways, but none of them controlled his interest in the way he desired a chat and dance with Mrs. Feld. It was impossible to consider anyone but her. She was the one he’d been waiting for. Seemingly patient, but not really, he felt twisted in a knot that only she could untie. And he was ready for that release. He wanted to know if she’d found it in her heart to forgive him, if only a little, for placing the wager.

 

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