A Wicked Earl she can't Resist: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Olivia Bennet

  “Why must we leave now Father? The ball is not done!” Lady Nancy folded her arms and glared mutinously at her father as she settled on the same bench as Emily while Lord Sulby took the opposite seat.

  He did not answer, simply beat his cane against the roof of the carriage in signal for the coachman to begin the journey. The ride back home was accomplished in silence, broken by occasional huffs of annoyance from Lady Nancy. Emily kept her hands folded in her lap and said nothing.

  Duncan knew that he had behaved like a savage. There was no excuse for it that he could give. He had acted purely on instinct. When he’d returned to the ballroom after splashing some water on his face to cool himself down and thinking about gory things to get his excited body to calm down, he’d not expected to see Miss Fletcher dancing with another man.

  For one minute, he’d completely seen red.

  He knew that it was not logical. For one thing, Miss Fletcher was not cheating on him. She was his children’s governess, not his wife. But he’d felt his heart twist in remembered pain as she swished about on the dance floor her face flushed, cheeks rosy, looking like a vision. Lord Hartley, who she’d been dancing with was watching her with avid eyes and Duncan had no doubt he meant to pursue the acquaintance. A look around had shown him that Lord Hartley was not the only one paying close attention to Miss Fletcher.

  He was close enough to a group of gentlemen to hear them speaking about her with interest.

  “Who is she in any case? I have not seen her before today. Has anyone been introduced?” Lord Grant was peering with interest at Miss Fletcher as she danced.

  “Someone told me that she’s Lady Nancy’s chaperone,” another of the gentlemen said.

  Lord Grant snorted. “Chaperone you say? I’d love for her to chaperone me. In my chambers.”

  The other men laughed, adding their own crude suggestions and Duncan’s fists clenched with the urge to lay them all on the ground. Before he could think about it, he was striding out to the dance floor and yanking Miss Fletcher away. He was irrationally angry with her, as if she had brought all this attention on herself to punish him for kissing her.

  As they rode home, he tried to calm down but it was difficult. He knew he had scared her. He could see how she huddled herself in the corner as if she wanted to disappear, no sign of the budding wanton he’d seen on the dance floor.

  Something inside him was grimly pleased by her subdued mien but it was at war with the part of him that did not want to intimidate her at all. He knew that none of this was her fault. He knew that he was taking out his feelings about his late wife on her.

  It was not fair.

  But he could not seem to make himself stop.

  He sighed, looking out of the window, his mind inadvertently returning to their passionate embrace in the garden.

  This isn’t one sided. She feels something for me too.

  Chapter 13

  There was a lunar eclipse and Emily decided to take the opportunity to teach the children a little about the stars. When she’d been off duty and restless, unable to keep the thought of the Earl and his kisses away, she’d conducted a tour of the mansion including the turrets on the roof.

  It would be an excellent place to watch the eclipse and learn something about the sky. The library had an impressive catalogue including several books on Copernicus. Emily was particularly excited about the chance to give a practical lesson. The preparations for it also kept her very busy.

  She was planning for it to be a surprise, with help from Mrs. Cooke.

  “I thought we’d make a night of it. We could pack a picnic and perhaps some blankets and spend the night with the stars.”

  “That sounds very enjoyable.” Mrs. Cooke smiled, “I’ll be sure to make something delicious for you. Perhaps some roast chicken, hot-cross buns, celery, and apples. I could make you some cider to drink and I’m sure the Earl would not mind if you took a bottle of wine from the cellar.”

  “Only if you don’t mind. Please don’t put yourself out.” Emily rested a hand on Mrs. Cooke’s arm.

  Mrs. Cooke put her arm over Emily’s. “It’s no trouble. I’m happy to do it. Such care you take of the little ones. I haven’t seen them so happy in a long while. You’re good for them.”

  Emily flushed. “Thank you, Mrs. Cooke.” She smiled shyly at the housekeeper who squeezed her hand.

  “Call me Betsey.”

  Emily’s eyes lit up further. “Only if you call me Emily.”

  Betsey nodded, peering at Emily with a pleased expression before she frowned. “Now tell me to mind my own business if you like but you’ve been brooding something terrible these last few days. Would you like to tell me why?” She rubbed Emily’s hand while speaking softly.

  Emily bit her lip, feeling an overwhelming need to confess everything. She dropped her eyes, opening and closing her mouth, looking for the right words. Betsey squeezed her hand encouragingly. Just then, Mary, Lady Nancy’s lady’s maid came into the kitchen. “Mrs. Cooke, my lady has asked for a tisane for her headache.”

  The moment was broken as Betsey rushed off to prepare it. Emily didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed. She nodded to Mary before shuffling out of the kitchen.

  According to the downstairs footman, Lord Sulby had a telescope in his rooms and Emily pondered whether it might be overstepping her bounds to ask for it.

  She would have asked Lady Nancy what she thought but the girl had been even more hostile since the ball. It was one of the reasons Emily wanted to have this event. What they needed was an ice breaker to get them over the perceived grudge Lady Nancy seemed to be holding against her.

  She took a deep breath, wondering if she should just take the bull by the horns and ask the Earl herself. So preoccupied was she with her musings that she bumped straight into what felt like a brick wall. She stumbled backwards, almost falling but a hand clamped itself around her arm like an iron band and forestalled her tumble.

  “My apologies,” a low deep baritone said in the vicinity of her ear.

  The warmth of the hand about her arm was removed and for a moment Emily felt bereft. “That’s quite all right, My Lord. As a matter of fact, I was about to seek you out.” She worked hard not to twist her fingers nervously.

  The Earl clasped his hands behind his back, eyes the color of blue ice intent on her. “Oh yes? And what can I do for you today, Miss Fletcher?”

  “Well…as you may know there is a lunar eclipse coming up.”

  The Earl nodded, looking attentive.

  “I wondered if we might borrow your telescope on the night.”

  Lord Sulby cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean to do with it?”

  “The children and I mean to observe the phenomenon from the turrets. A telescope might come in handy.”

  The Earl smiled. “That sounds lovely. I don’t suppose I might join you?”

  Surprise made Emily blanche. “You, uh…would like to join us?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  She blinked up at him, wondering if he would bring up the kiss.

  “I-I, of course I don’t mind.”

  She was flustered and it showed in the heat of her cheeks and the restlessness of her fingers and she could not make it stop. She wanted to turn and hurry away from him but didn’t want to be rude.

  “Well,” she pointed behind her, “I should, er, go and prepare.”

  He nodded, smiling indulgently and she could feel his eyes on her all the way down the corridor.

  Ever since the ball, Duncan had been having trouble sleeping. He could not pinpoint exactly why that was…something to do with feelings awakened after a long slumber, he suspected.

  He had no idea what to do about it. On the one hand, he was an unmarried gentleman and it was not unheard of for one such as he to take a mistress. He could offer Miss Fletcher carte blanche. The problem was that, attraction aside, she was turning out to be the best governess his children had ever had.

  He was not sure if he want
ed to interfere with that.

  Who says it has to interfere?

  Duncan shook the thought away, realizing that he was still staring at Miss Fletcher’s rear as she walked down the corridor. That kiss they had shared, so searing, so passionate…he shook his head, and pursed his lips to stop the tingling he could feel. He swallowed the hunger for more, the compulsion to follow Miss Fletcher down the hall, grab her by the waist, hoist her over his shoulder, and carry her off to his chambers.

  He snorted at the theatrical nature of his thoughts, forcing his feet to carry him in the opposite direction. He went to his chambers, locking the door behind him to forestall temptation. He had a small sitting room in addition to his bedchambers, a garderobe screened off with a Chinese screen and a dressing chamber. The telescope was set up on his balcony and he walked out, looking up at the night sky.

  In his preoccupation he had forgotten about the lunar eclipse. How thoughtful of Miss Fletcher to think of sharing it with the children. He had expected either some hysterics after the ball, or else that she would pursue him relentlessly. That she had simply gone back to conducting her business as usual was disconcerting.

  Granted, he had been avoiding her in the week after the ball but he had not expected that to be a deterrent. In his experience, when a woman wanted something, she went for it regardless of the obstacles in her way.

  At least, that was how it had been with Jane.

  He recalled the occasion of her five-and-twentieth birthday when she had decreed that nothing less than a gondola in Venice would do to celebrate. Unfortunately, he had been away on the day, an unexpected gale blowing his ship off course and ironically landing him on the Italian coast. A letter might have taken as long as he could ride to reach her and so he’d traveled over land, using the fastest horses and bringing with him an Italian singer to serenade her.

  He arrived in England to find that she had traveled to Venice, leaving the children in the care of their governess. He had not known what to do with the anger he’d felt at her willfulness and so he’d buried it. But their relationship was colder as a result and never really recovered the warm relationship they’d shared in happier days.

  He realized that he’d been on tenterhooks all week, waiting for Miss Fletcher to do something similar…which was ridiculous because she was not Jane.

  She’s nothing like Jane.

  Duncan didn’t know why he was even comparing them. Miss Fletcher was just another governess. Granted, she was very beautiful with her shimmering nut-brown curls, and her golden eyes which reminded him of a tiger he’d once seen in Bengal on his travels.

  He had come upon it suddenly as he ventured into the wild on a hunting trip with the Nawab of the area. The tiger had startled him, appearing suddenly between two leaves, its eyes blinking fearlessly at him.

  It had disappeared a moment later, before his escorts could do so much as raise the alarm, but those eyes had haunted his dreams for many nights afterwards. He wondered if his fascination with the governess was as a result of those tiger eyes...

  He shook his head embarrassed at his musings and turned away to pick up a book he’d been reading earlier, ironically about the East India Trade. A knock at the door distracted him and he put the book down. “Come,” he called.

  The corridor footman stepped in the room, a tray in hand and immediately stood at attention. “You have a message My Lord.”

  Duncan held out his hand and the footman deposited the letter in it. He recognized the seal at once, and smiled, wondering what Holburn could possibly want so late. He dismissed the footman, and opened the note at once.

  My dear Lord Sulby,

  Winchester, Collins, and I are headed to the Beefeater’s for a rousing game of whist. We feel the need to cleanse the palate after Lady Whitmore’s ball. I do not think I have been waylaid by so many mothers in the same night. Lady Annabelle almost had me when she caught me alone in the corridor.

  Gads!

  A close call, my friend. Won’t you join us for the night and be our fourth at whist? I promise there will be no sociable chits to impugn upon your person.

  Your presence is eagerly awaited, so call for your carriage at once.

  Sincerely,

  Holburn

  Duncan found that he was grinning as he read the note. He could well imagine Holburn’s fear at being caught in flagrante with Lady Annabelle. He had regaled Duncan with several stories of her relentless pursuit. While it amused Duncan to no end, he could imagine that Holburn was fast tiring of the game.

  He shook his head. “You should just pick a bride and be done with it,” he said aloud even as he scooped up his cloak and walked out of his chambers. A night on the town was just what he needed to get his mind settled. It would give him a respite from his thoughts and perhaps he would reach some sort of resolution to his internal dilemma.

  Emily sat at the long kitchen table that was used for preparation of food. She sipped on hot chocolate as she listened to the hustle and bustle of the house preparing to wind down for the night. Even as Lord Sulby called for his carriage to go out.

  “Where is he going?” there was a plaintive note in Emily’s voice she could not quite get rid of.

  Betsey smiled. “That’s none of our business.”

  “He got a note from Lord Holburn,” one of the footmen spoke up.

  “Prob’ly goin ta see him then,” one of the kitchen maids answered.

  “Does he usually go out so late?” Emily asked, looking between footman and maid.

  Betsey came into her line of sight again, giving her an admonishing glance, “Go on with yous!” she declared waving the footmen and the maid away. “You shan’t be gossiping about the master in my kitchen.”

  The staff scattered with quite a bit of grumbling. Gossiping about the master and his children was a major past time for the staff, however much the housekeeper tried to discourage it.

  Betsey came to the table and sat opposite Emily, her own steaming mug of tea in hand. She eyeballed the governess sternly, pursing her lips. Emily lifted her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I was just curious.”

  “Don’t encourage them. There’s quite enough talk about Lord Sulby to keep them busy. They do not need more.”

  Emily nodded. “I’m sorry, forgive me?”

  Betsey sighed, shaking her head. “Nothing to forgive. But tell me why you’re so interested in the Earl and his doings. You don’t seem like the kind of person interested in idle gossip.”

  Emily dropped her eyes, feeling quite chastised. “You’re right. I let my curiosity get the better of me.”

  “But why are you so curious?” Betsey pressed.

  Emily sighed. “I…I’m not really supposed to be here,” she confessed, her voice low and ashamed, “I’m not really a governess.”

  “Oh? What are you then?” Betsey asked, sounding distinctly unsurprised.

  Emily glanced up at her, trying to gauge whether she was being judged harshly or not.

  “You can tell me, Emily. I’m your friend.” Betsey reached out to squeeze her hand encouragingly.

  Emily nodded, swallowed and then lifted her eyes slowly to meet Betsey’s. “I came to London with a man named Laurence Blackmore. I thought I was coming to be his bride.”

  Betsey gasped noiselessly but said nothing. Emily’s dropped her eyes again, and kept them on their clasped hands. “When we arrived in London, h-he…”

  She swallowed hard and Betsey squeezed her hand. Emily didn’t dare look at her.

  “You don’t have to say anything else.” Betsey said gently.

  Emily shook her head. “No, I want to.”

  She risked a quick glance at Betsey’s face, to see that it was scrunched up in sympathy. That gave her some courage to continue. Taking a deep breath, she let the words out as quickly as possible. “He took me to a brothel.”

  Betsey squeezed her hands harder.

  “He told me that I was to work for him there and his madam decided that she would sell my v
irginity to the highest bidder.”

  Betsey’s shocked gasp made her cheeks heat and she kept talking lest she lose all her courage. “There was a fire that night and I escaped by jumping from the roof. I walked to the nearest chapel where I met a kindly vicar who took me home to his wife.”

  Betsey let out a sound of relief.

  “They…er, the vicar and his wife, they’re the ones who wrote me a reference and persuaded the agency to take me on. That’s how I ended up here. I actually have no experience as a governess. I’m just making it up as I go along.”