How to Train Your Earl

by Amelia Grey

  Brina was about to speak up when Zane calmly said, “There will be no fighting over this. Give him back the money you won off him.” He rose to tower over the older boy. “Go on, do it. All of it.”

  Claude scowled at Zane.

  “We can do this your way or my way. Makes no difference to me.”

  The youngster slowly relaxed his hands and lowered his arms. He shook his shoulders a time or two, shoved his hand into his pocket, produced two pence, and returned it. William’s round cheeks filled out more with his wide smile before he turned and ran away.

  Zane gave the cards back to Claude. “Take your marked cards and peddle them on boys your own age.”

  “Hey, mister,” Claude said as he slipped the cards into his pocket, “do you and the lady want to see some kittens? I’ll show you where they are for three pence.” He held out his hand.

  Brina stepped closer to him. “A kitten?”

  “Two of them.” He held up two fingers. “Soft as the hair on a baby’s face, my mum always says. And the momma cat is friendly.” He continued to hold out his hand.

  Zane looked over at Brina. “You want to see them?”

  She felt a leap of delight. “I’d love to if you think it will be all right. I haven’t seen a kitten in—well, a very long time.”

  “How do I know you won’t take my coins and run?” Zane asked the lad.

  “I give you my word,” Claude said, lifting his chin proudly.

  Zane reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin. “I’m going to give you one. If you really have a kitten you can show the lady, I’ll give you the rest.”

  Brina slipped her hand around Zane’s arm and smiled. It felt good to touch him. He laid his hand over hers and gently squeezed. They followed Claude a short distance down a side street before entering an alleyway. At the end of it was a small, rundown shed. The door was missing, and the roof had caved in. Claude scrambled underneath the two steps and out of sight.

  All was quiet for a few moments, and then she heard several soft meows and his hand shot out from under the step holding a small gray kitten with the biggest, most beautiful gray eyes Brina had ever seen. Its belly, neck, and paws were white as snow.

  Zane reached down and plucked the kitten from the boy’s hand and gave it to Brina.

  She took the squirming ball of fur and immediately put it up to her neck so she could feel its softness and warmth. The kitty pawed at her chin and wiggled. Its meow was so faint, she almost hadn’t heard it. She felt such joy just holding the thin, soft-as-a-tuff-of-cotton body close to her.

  “Do you want me to bring the other one out?” Claude called from underneath the dilapidated porch.

  “Yes, of course,” she answered the lad.

  Zane looked at her, and for a moment she could have sworn he saw the love she was feeling for him shining in her eyes.

  Chapter 22

  Zane shut the ledger and pushed back his chair. “I think that settles it, Uncles.”

  “Settles what?” Hector asked from his seat across the massive oak desk.

  “Your tutelage. I have now been through every account book, looked over every contract, and been briefed on every tenant. I know where every piece of property is located, the size of it and approximate value, and the type of land it is: grazing, waste, fertile, or inhabited. I will continue to seek your guidance in the future when needed, but for now, I see no reason for you two to make daily visits.”

  Uncle Syl shifted in his chair and sniffed. Uncle Hector tapped his cane once on the floor as they looked at each other for a considerable amount of time. Surely they had known this time was coming, but clearly not that it would be today.

  Finally, Hector’s chin bobbed. “What about the family?” he asked. “Many requests have been made of you that you haven’t addressed.”

  “That’s true. I’ve delayed that until my review of everything was finished.” There were so many different family members asking for favors of different magnitudes, he didn’t remember them all. “I admit this is a way the two of you can continue to help me.”

  Hector glanced over at Sylvester, and they both smiled, thinking that would signal a reason to maintain their routine.

  “Put together a list for me of all the people and requests that have been made so far. In fact, make me a list of all my relatives and what relation they are to me. Are they second or third cousin—niece, aunt, or uncle. You know what I mean. All of them. My mother’s family as well. Once that is done, I’ll set aside a time to meet with you and go over everyone’s requests.”

  That wasn’t what they wanted to hear.

  Hector’s brows grew closer together by the second. “I’m not sure I know the names of all of them.”

  “Neither do I,” Uncle Syl said, looking puzzled by the thought of what Zane suggested. “You know how it is. Cousins, nieces, and nephews get married and have children, which makes you have more cousins, nieces, and nephews. How far down the family tree do you want us to go?”

  “As far as you think is necessary. I’ll leave that decision to the two of you. I would also like a recommendation from you as to the merits of their requests.”

  Sylvester was the first to give in. He bowed from his lower back toward Zane. “We’ll get it done. Your great-aunt Imogene will probably know everyone in the family. If not, she’ll know who does.”

  “Yes. Leave it to us.” Hector moved his cane around and placed it between his knees, resting both his palms on the handle, and leaned forward. “But we were hoping we might continue in our assistance of you until after you are settled.”

  “I am,” Zane said. He hadn’t indulged in a vice in three weeks. How more settled could he get?

  “But you’re not wed yet,” Sylvester argued, as if Zane didn’t know that.

  His uncle was unbelievable. “Neither are you. I appreciate the two of you wanting to keep helping, but for the reasons I indicated, it’s unnecessary. Besides, I don’t know when I will wed.”

  Or if he would wed.

  He and Brina had seen each other several times since their visit to the abbey. She always seemed happy to him. They enjoyed each other, but he still wasn’t certain he could trust Brina to fulfill her part of their agreement, even though he’d followed to the letter the rules she laid down—well, except for a swear or two. And then there was that troubling mistake he’d made in her dining room when he’d mentioned making a bet with her. That caused him some worry. She could choose to hold that against him. He had actually said the words to her, innocent though they were.

  “But you have Mrs. Feld’s assurance she will wed you after the last ball,” Uncle Hector said. “Unless you have done something to keep her from accepting your proposal? Something we don’t know about?”

  “No,” he said firmly. And he didn’t intend to. “I have kept my word to her. I’ll propose to her per our agreement. That is all I have to say about it. You have taught me well, Uncles. It’s time I take over on my own going forward.”

  Zane saw Fulton step into the doorway. “Yes, Fulton.”

  “Mr. Robins is here to see you, my lord. He says it’s about your previous discussion with him.”

  “Show him to the drawing room and tell him I’ll be right there.” Zane rose. “Uncles, I have more things to take care of. I’ll see you back here tomorrow night for dinner.”

  “Yes,” Hector said, relying on his cane to help him rise. “And with Parliament ending its session a week early, the last ball of the Season was moved up to the night after.”

  “What?” Zane froze. “I thought it was still a week away.”

  “It was until late yesterday. The committee moved it up. You know how it is, once Parliament’s finished everyone’s ready to escape Town and head to their summer homes and begin their house parties.”

  That didn’t give Zane much time. He needed the extra days to win Brina’s love.

  Love?

  That was such a big little word!

  But yes, he not only wa
nted to win her hand, he wanted her love. She was loyal and tenderhearted. There was no doubt she loved her family, her friends, the sisters, and the girls at the school. He’d wanted her to love him too. He didn’t want her holding back any part of herself from him. She was attracted to him. She took pleasure in the way he made her feel. What he didn’t know was why she still continued to proclaim she wanted to be a widow.

  That remained a mystery and kept her from being ready to commit to him. If she had loved her husband so much that she’d pined after him for years, why wouldn’t she want to find that kind of love and happiness again?

  He looked at his uncles. “I don’t intend to miss the ball. I’ll let Fulton get your coats and see you out.”

  Zane strode into the drawing room and joined Harry, who stood near the far wall looking up at a large tapestry depicting a battle scene. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting, Harry.”

  Harry looked at Zane; a quizzical expression narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. “So, when you became the earl, this house and everything in it became yours? Is that right?”

  Nodding, Zane stopped beside him. “It all becomes part of the entailed property of whoever is the earl. It can’t be sold. It can only be passed down to the next man to inherit the title.”

  Harry chuckled. “That’s a good way to keep it all in the family. Just declare it can’t be sold.”

  “There are a lot of rules to follow. Most of them go back hundreds of years. I hope you have some news.”

  “Some,” he said. “Not as much as I’d like. I don’t know if it will help you much.”

  Zane heard his uncles coming down the corridor. He pointed to chairs by the far window. “Let’s sit over there. Can I get you something to drink? A port or brandy?”

  “No,” he said, settling himself into one of the wide-striped blue-and-beige-covered chairs. “I’ve asked around on Remick. He’s from America and it appears he’s been in London about three months. He purports to have various business ventures there—but no one seems to know exactly what they are. But, he always has plenty of money to play, so no one really cares.”

  “Understandable. As long as he pays he plays.”

  “The odd thing about what I’ve heard is that he does most of his playing at the smaller gambling houses—Hillspot, York and Petly’s, Buck and Doe’s. Places like that. His bets are in line with most everyone’s there, and he seldom loses. He goes to gaming houses such as the Brass Bull, and when he’s there, his bets are large, and he usually wins there too.”

  “Cheating?”

  “Not that anyone has ever accused him,” Harry said. “Just damn good, like you are. But it’s like he’s two different men. One night he’s at the Brass Bull betting hundreds of pounds and the next he’s at the Hillspot, where bets are limited to five pounds. The same places where your cousin and Mr. Harper Tabor do most of their playing.”

  “So, he makes money off the small bets where players aren’t as good and then plays with the skilled players?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. And the rumor is he’s starting his own club to teach younger players how to become skilled.”

  “And they have to pay in order to get in these clubs?”

  Harry nodded. “There’s one other interesting bit of information you might find useful. I heard Remick asked if he might be a guest at Lord Lyonwood’s card club and he was refused. Now that you are an earl too, you might want to ask Lord Lyonwood what he knows about the man.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Harry shook his head. “Imagine an American wanting a seat at the earl’s gaming table.”

  Zane nodded as he looked over at the clock. It was almost four. Rather late in the afternoon to call on someone. Brina wouldn’t approve, but he didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to talk to Lyon. Besides, Lyon lived right beside Brina. Why pass up an opportunity to see her?

  By the time Zane saw Harry out and had his landau brought around, half an hour had passed. His carriage stopped in front of Lyon’s house alongside four other carriages, including those of the Duke of Middlecastle and the Duke of Marksworth, Lyon’s father. That’s when Zane remembered it was Lyon’s card club day. He wasn’t one to interrupt a man’s game. He didn’t know how long they played but he’d wait.

  With Brina.

  He stepped out onto the pavement and sent his driver away, not knowing how long he might have to wait. As he started toward Brina’s house, he heard talking coming from the back of her house. After he passed the tall hedge that separated her house from Lyon’s, he saw the top of Brina’s head. He walked about halfway down the side of her house and looked over the garden wall. She wasn’t alone. There looked to be a dozen girls with her.

  Zane huffed a silent laugh at them. They wore what looked to be men’s long-sleeved shirts over the top of their dresses. Easels were in front of them, paint brushes were in their hands. Brina stood in front of them talking. Crouching low enough not to be seen, he quietly moved in closer so he could hear.

  “A good painting of a flower begins with a well-drawn flower. You will see, I’ve already drawn the flower for you to make your first lesson easy. You are going to start with the stem. I want all of you to dip your paint brush into the green paint. Don’t look at your partner or her work. You are only interested in your drawing. Pretend you have the entire easel to yourself and not just half of it. What the other girls are doing or how they are doing it should not affect what you do. After you have paint on your brush, make slow, easy strokes like this.”

  Zane continued to watch her. The way her hands moved and her shoulders rolled as she colored in the stem of her flower. Her voice remained calm as she continued to instruct. She would make a few strokes and turn back to her students and explain something else before placing her brush on the canvas again. The girls were quiet and attentive as they watched her and made the same strokes.

  After her stem was finished, Brina walked over and looked at their paintings. The girls asked questions. Pointing to their work with her brush, she answered by making suggestions. He was mesmerized watching how unruffled she was with them and how much they seemed to adore her, sometimes all of them talking at the same time and vying for her attention by gathering around her. Without much effort, she’d quiet them and send them back to their easels.

  Zane relaxed and folded his arms comfortably over his chest. He could watch her all day. She was a patient teacher. She would be a good and patient mother. To his children. Their children. He didn’t just want to marry her; he didn’t want to live without her. He loved everything about her.

  And that was a damn good feeling.

  He didn’t know how long he continued to watch her, but he finally heard talking from Lyon’s house and the sound of carriages leaving. He would wait and see her after his visit with the earl next door.

  When the last carriage rolled out of sight, Zane rapped the knocker.

  “Lord Blacknight to see Lord Lyonwood if he’s available,” he said to the staunch-looking butler.

  “Wait here, my lord,” the butler said, and moments later Lyon came walking down the corridor and motioned for Zane to come.

  “Blacknight,” Lyon called. “Come join us. Garrett’s with me. We’re having a drink.”

  Zane’s stomach twisted and one of his hands made a tight fist of frustration. He would enjoy a drink right now. “Nothing for me,” he mumbled to himself and headed toward Lyon. The men shook hands, and once inside the book room, Zane greeted Garrett as well.

  “Sit down,” Lyon offered, pointing to a chair.

  “Thank you. I won’t stay long. How did the games go this afternoon?”

  “My father and Garrett won most of the money. The rest of us didn’t fare as well.”

  “That happens.” Zane gave Garrett a nod of approval before giving his attention back to Lyon. “I dropped by because I wanted to ask you about a man named Remick. I heard he wanted to play with your club and was wondering if you could tell me anything about the man.�
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  Lyon scoffed and then sipped his drink. “The American? No, I can’t tell you much. He asked to see me, so out of courtesy, I met with him. Apparently, he’s a skilled player and wanted an opportunity to play with my group.”

  “But you didn’t agree.”

  “Of course not. It’s not that men like him aren’t good. They usually are an interesting challenge. But if I allowed one man to play with us, it would get around and others would want to test our skills too. Best not to start. I’m sure you know that.”

  Zane nodded. He was hoping for more information.

  “Some men travel from town to town to test their skills and see how many men they can beat. The same way a man wants to test his thoroughbred against others. Once they’re satisfied they move on.”

  “That’s an observation I hadn’t thought about. I guess he felt he had nothing to lose by asking to play.”

  “I didn’t mind him asking once,” Lyon said. “I didn’t like it when he waited for me outside White’s and asked the second time.”

  “That didn’t set well with you. Did you find out anything about him?”

  “No. Does he want to play you?”

  Zane shook his head. “I think everyone in London knows I’m not playing right now. I’m asking about him because of my cousin. Remick appears to have started a private club. I have reason to believe my cousin might be involved with him, and I wanted to make sure the man plays fair and is not out to line his pockets with a young man’s wealthy family.”

  “I had no reason to ask him any questions. I wasn’t interested. If I’d known, I would have been happy to.” He looked at Garrett. “You’ve met him, Garrett. What do you think of him?”

  “I agree with all you said. He’s obviously skilled and knows it.”

  Zane turned to Garrett and asked, “You’ve gambled all over the world. Do you think he’s a master gamester and out to get an impulsive young man’s blunt?”

  Garrett weighed his words before saying, “Something about him doesn’t add up. Most skilled players are trustworthy. They probably wouldn’t stay alive very long if they weren’t. Usually the important thing for them is the bragging rights. Money is secondary and only to feed their habit. However, I wouldn’t trust an American who’s come to London to set up a card club.”