How To Catch An Earl With Ten Lies (Historical Regency Romance)

by Patricia Haverton

  Benjamin sighed and sipped at his drink. The faint aftertaste of roses and violets lingered on his tongue. The flavor always reminded him of his mother. She had always worn attar of rose perfume and frequently pinned a bunch of violets to her collar How often they had sat in this very room and shared a glass of this very wine with Florence while waiting for their father so they could all go in to dinner.

  If only I had let the slight against my dancer go, ignored Steelfrost’s insinuations about my sister’s death, I could have had more time with my parents. There was surely another way to protect Cynthia’s reputation, and I knew very well there was nothing to his accusations that I should have done more for Florence.

  He sipped at his wine again, letting the light alcoholic haze dull the edges of the pain that was both old and extremely fresh in his mind.

  How could my father not have told me of this condition that he had placed in his will? Marry, and produce an heir before being recognized as fully inheriting the title. Damnation! What happens if the wife is barren? What might have happened if I had been injured in a way that I could not get children?

  When they had last visited, the late Earl had mentioned something that he needed to discuss, but somehow the time had never been quite right. The holidays had been a steady round of parties and general merriment. Probably his father had not wanted to dim their enjoyment, since it was so seldom possible.

  Morosely, Benjamin took another sip of wine. He would like to believe that had been his father’s motivation, but he knew the man too well. Father had wanted to spare himself the trouble of explaining it all, probably hoping that Benjamin would find someone suitable well before necessity brought the inheritance to him.

  And why not? Father was a hale, hearty man at Christmastide. But no one could predict the weather or the behavior of horses. A heavy ice storm, a horse spooked by some imagined boggart, an overturned sleigh at the edge of a swollen stream, and that was that.

  Now, Benjamin must marry. And here was the Viscount of Castlemount with not one, but two marriageable nieces. The fellow had suggested the younger one. Why? Who knew? Perhaps the elder had a hare lip, a wandering eye, or a squint, and the younger was the more personable of the twain. That probably meant that he would be expected to take care of the elder. What an imposition!

  Abruptly, Benjamin stood up and flung the glass, still half filled with wine, into the fireplace. Thundering damnation! How had he come to such a pass?

  His butler looked in. “Lord Newhorn? Are you well? Do you require a fresh glass?”

  “Dammit, Grantham. You’ve known me since I was old enough to need a pointer as to which fork to use at table. Must you address me so formally?”

  Grantham let his butler mask drop for just a moment. “My Lord, I could wish for those days as well. But you are no longer young ‘Master Benjamin.’ I deeply regret that there is little I can do to point out the ‘right fork’ for this turning in the road. Just as I am no longer a footman and now take up my duties as butler, so must you assume your duties as head of the household.”

  Benjamin laughed a little ruefully, and scuffed the toe of his boot at one of the shards of glass that lay on the hearth. I have now created a mess for the servants to clean up. A fine master I am. “Right you are, Grantham. And it is unfair of me to take out my ill temper on you. I fear I’ve made a devil of a mess here, just as I made a mess of my life.”

  Grantham blinked once or twice, and turned his face aside for a moment. “We all missed you, My Lord. The old place wasn’t the same after you left. T’was in no way fair that you should have been banished when we all knew your opponent was a blackguard and a scoundrel. Nay, nay, say nothing to deny it. There were those of us who knew that you also did your best to protect the girl and set her up safely.”

  “And no way to check on her when I was gone, for my father would not hear of it. I don’t suppose you would happen to know how that turned out?”

  “Amazingly well, Lord Newhorn. The chit was an intelligent woman. While your father might have told you nothing, he sent his man of business to assist her rather than cutting her adrift with the money you insisted be settled on her. She now runs a boarding school, teaching both gentry and indigent children. Your mother continued as benefactress and confided in me that over the last eight quarters, the school turned a tidy profit.”

  “She did? Grantham, that is a weight off my mind.”

  “Do you desire to look her up, my lord?”

  “No, no. That ship has long sailed. The affair had already begun to sour when Wilde accused her of soliciting information and selling it when she turned him away. Even though we were soon no longer to be an item, I knew her for a loyal citizen. Beyond that, she had nothing kind to say for those who used their wiles to obtain information from officers and gentlemen.”

  “I am relieved to hear it, My Lord, for I fear she would be a most unsuitable mistress for Newhorn.”

  Now Benjamin did laugh. His mirth might have had an edge of hysteria, but it was genuine for all that. “Oh, quite so! Quite so, Grantham. Which makes the duel all the more foolish. But I am glad to hear that Cynthia Linguere is doing well and that I managed to do at least one thing right. For I am sure that the duel quite put an end to her career as an entertainer.”

  “I am glad to put your mind at ease,” Grantham said. “By all accounts, she is running an excellent school and has most recently added an employment agency as a service to her students. We have two maids from the agency, and both are demure, well-spoken young women who give excellent service and know their place.”

  “Is that so?” Benjamin looked at him in surprise.

  “Indeed, it is. It became your father’s policy to support her agency by hiring from it. We have never regretted it.”

  “I shall have to keep that in mind. So long as I do not have to interview her myself, I see no reason not to continue the practice.”

  “It shall be as you say, then, My Lord. It is unlikely that we would need to bring hiring staff to your attention in any case, unless some problem should arise. I, or Mrs. Higgins in her capacity as Housekeeper, have always taken on that burden.”

  “Thank you for letting me know, Grantham. I find myself woefully ignorant on many fronts.”

  “Ignorance is easily corrected, My Lord. I am glad to continue giving such pointers as I may, even though you have long since ceased to require your pickle fork to be pointed out.”

  “Thank you, Grantham. And now, perhaps I should simply have a brandy and go to bed.”

  Grantham frowned for a moment.

  Benjamin sighed. “What is it?”

  “With all due respect, My Lord, if you have a brandy atop the wine you have drunk, you are likely to have a most dreadful headache in the morning. Perhaps I could bring a nice cup of chamomile tea instead?”

  “I did say that you could point out errors. It would be churlish of me to ignore such sage advice, especially when I know that you are right.”

  “Shall I bring the tea to your chambers, My Lord, where you can enjoy it in comfort?”

  “Yes, Grantham, you may. And thank you. I am sure Simmons has been waiting for me this hour past.”

  So here I am, set about by the people who care for me and for whom I am responsible. Because they are my responsibility, I must find a wife posthaste.

  Benjamin stumped off to his rooms and the solicitous hands of his valet. He deeply dreaded what the morrow might bring.

  Chapter 3

  Penelope awoke to find the kitten sitting on her chest staring at her. “How did you get out here?” she asked the scrap of feline dignity that focused two round blue eyes on her.

  “Hungry are you? Goodness! It isn’t even daylight yet. Don’t worry, I’ll ring for something.”

  “I already did,” Edith said. “She was meowing and clawing at the door. She seems to like you. Isn’t she the most charming thing? Surely Uncle will let us keep her.”

  Penelope was by no means certain of that. “We m
ust get ready for this gentleman caller,” she said. “He arrives at nine. Perhaps we should name the little black monster ‘Alarm Clock.’ She certainly seems to be a good one.”

  A tap came at the door of their sitting room. With a marvelous degree of presence of mind, Penelope distracted the kitten from the opening door by trailing one of her braids in front of the little beast. In true tiny predator fashion, she pounced on the braid and worried the ribbon bow ferociously.

  When Penelope heard the outer door close, she pushed back the covers and sat up. She drew on her dressing gown and found Stella putting down a mat and placing a bowl of milk and a bowl of scrambled egg for the kitten.

  The kitten hurtled across the floor like a meteor, landing face first in the dish of egg. She then began devouring it, growling ferociously all the while.

  With the kitten occupied, the girls sat down to their own breakfast, while watching their foundling inhaling a full serving of egg before beginning to lap the dish of milk with equal enthusiasm.

  When the kitten had licked the very last drops of milk from the bowl, she began to prowl about the room. Stella, who was used to the stray kittens, puppies, and other creatures that the kind-hearted Edith frequently brought home, scooped the little creature up and deposited her in her earth box. Apparently that was exactly what the baby needed, for she used it and carefully covered up the results.

  “What a clever little thing!” Edith crowed. “Oh, there has never been such a smart kitten.”

  Penelope had to admit that the kitten looked much better this morning. Its fur was dry and clean, well fluffed out. It had a tiny bell of white under its chin, and two white toes. It daintily shook all four paws one at a time after leaving the earth box, and then scampered back to the girls. It hopped onto the sofa between them, and began to groom.

  “Penelope,” Edith said softly, “I don’t think I can meet this gentleman. I just can’t. It is all so very sudden. How can I even think about marrying someone I’ve never even met before?”

  I expected this. Well, I shall simply have to develop a plan. Edie shall not be subjected to unwanted suitors. I will take care of her.

  “Then you don’t have to, Edith. I’ll think of something. We do have to entertain him. Uncle Horace expects it. But I’ll see if there isn’t a way out of this.”

  “I don’t mind entertaining him. I just don’t want to discuss courtship or anything even approaching it. How can I know if I like him? Anyway, I don’t want to be married for years and years yet.”

  “One of us will need to marry him. Uncle Horace clearly expects it, and so does the gentleman.” Penelope stroked the kitten along its back. The little black scrap of mischief began to purr loudly. It was amazing how much sound came out of such a small creature.

  “If only Uncle Horace had not set Marpole to be our chaperone,” Penelope said thoughtfully, “I could simply introduce myself as you, and you as me.”

  “You would do that for me?” Edith clasped her hands beneath her chin, and rested it on them. “Oh, Penny! Really, I can’t ask it of you.”

  “You aren’t and you didn’t. But we must meet with him. This way, you won’t have to talk much. You can even claim to feel ill, if you wish, and hide out in Stella’s room, if that is what you want to do.”

  Stella shook her head at both of them. “You two. I declare, it sounds as if you are planning to be old maids.”

  “I’m not sure I would mind,” Penelope said. “That way we could be together forever and ever.”

  “Your uncle is trying to secure a future for you,” Stella said, with the forwardness only possible from an old family retainer who had watched two little girls grow into young ladies. “Not many orphans have such a kindly guardian. And here you are sneaking in kittens, which you know he has forbidden, and you are trying to get out of an advantageous marriage that he is trying to arrange.”

  “But you see, Stella, that is just the thing,” Penelope explained. “Is it really all that advantageous? We don’t know anything about this gentleman other than that he recently came into his title and he seems to be looking for a wife. I’d really like to know more about him before handing over to him my very dearest baby sister.”

  “I’m your only sister,” Edith pointed out.

  “Very true, which makes you a rare and excellent person in my eyes,” Penelope said.

  “But how can we do this under Marpole’s eyes?” Edith asked. “You know he will give the show away.”

  “We need something to distract him, or call him away from the house for just long enough that we can do this.”

  “We still need a chaperone,” Edith pointed out.

  “At least you have that much sense,” Stella observed. “As for Mr. Marpole, I can perhaps organize a distraction that will keep him away just long enough. I’ll send James up to act as your gooseberry.”

  With that decided, the girls prepared to carry out their plan. Penelope left her long dark hair loose, fastening it back with a comb on each side of her face to make her look younger. They pinned Edith’s soft, blond hair up to make her look a little older. For a few minutes before they went downstairs, Edith practiced looking extremely prim and severe. Since they had agreed that she would not talk very much, Penelope hoped that it would work.

  The sisters went down to the formal parlor. Penelope picked up the morning paper and began to read, while Edith pulled the embroidery frame to her and continued working on a tapestry. They were scarcely settled to their tasks when James, the footman who was their particular friend, tapped at the door.

  James had once been a racehorse jockey, and was very unusual for a footman. He was a small, wizened man, with a slightly bow-legged walk. Not only was he the girls’ particular footman, he also rode out with them as their groom, ran their errands, and answered worldly questions they did not dare ask their uncle.

  Clearly, Stella had filled him in on the plan, for he tipped them a wink before gravely announcing, “Lord Newhorn to see you, Miss Edith, Miss Penelope.”

  “Thank you, James,” Penelope said. Standing up and drawing near the door, she whispered, “Remember!”

  “Why, of course, Miss Edith,” James said, with a wide grin, “Not a word about the little bronze monkey.”

  Behind her, Edith made a sort of sputtering gasp, which was clearly a smothered laugh. The bronze monkey was a creature they had rescued from a hurdy-gurdy man. The creature had to be donated to a local zoological society for it had turned out to be far too much trouble to keep. It had become their code phrase for secrets that should not be shared outside their personal circle.

  James ushered in a man who was the epitome of the phrase “tall, dark, and handsome.” He was broad shouldered, with military bearing and impeccably dressed. His dark curls were brushed into perfect Byronesque disarray. Dark eyes beneath elegantly shaped eyebrows seemed to quickly take in every detail of the room. His sensitive mouth was set in a firm, masculine line above a chin that suggested he was accustomed to winning arguments.

  “The Right Honorable Benjamin Gray, Earl of Newhorn,” James announced, pretentiously.

  Penelope curtsied gracefully and presented her hand, “I am Edith Chapman,” she announced, “and my sister, Miss Penelope Chapman, is seated there by the embroidery frame.”

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” Lord Newhorn bent over her hand, politely kissing the air above it. “I hope this day finds you doing well.”

  “Quite well, Lord Newhorn. Pray, come in and sit down. James, perhaps you could ring for some tea?”

  “I will try, Miss Edith,” James said with a perfectly straight countenance, “but the housekeeper and the butler are dealing with a crisis in the kitchen. Tea might be delayed.”

  “Oh, dear.” Penelope clicked her tongue. “Really, it is so hard to find good help these days. My Lord, it seems I will have difficulty offering refreshment. I hope you do not mind.”

  “No, no, it is no matter,” Lord Newhorn said. “I did not call to be offer
ed tea. I came to make your acquaintance, Miss Chapman. Did your uncle explain to you my situation?”

  “He said something about an inheritance and a condition set upon your assuming your place?”

  “Sadly, yes. But I would not force myself upon you. Rather, I beg leave to ask you to go walking with me in the park that we might become better acquainted.”

  “But your ultimate goal is matrimony?”

  “It is. Sadly, I need to be wed and rather soon. The will was read yesterday, and I must be leg-shackled . . . ahem…that is, married before a year elapses from the date of the reading.”

  “I understand the cant term ‘leg-shackled’, My Lord, and that many gentlemen find the idea of being married repugnant. Do you find the concept repellant?”