The American Earl (Elbia Series Book 4)

by Kathryn Jensen

  “I don’t know…” Abby sighed.

  “He needs you,” Paula whispered. “More than you know. You may not believe this, but he’s given you more than he’s allowed any other woman. Do just this one small favor for him. For all of us. Please.”

  Abby closed her eyes. Her head throbbed and hands trembled. Was she really strong enough to do this? “I’ll do it for you, Paula. I know what a bear he can be when things don’t work out his way. He’ll be impossible to work with.”

  Abby thought she heard a muffled yip of triumph from the other end of the line. “What?”

  “Nothing, dear,” Paula said. “I’m just so very relieved. Now let’s talk details.”

  Three days later, Abby arrived at the airport near the St. George’s end of the island. Matt’s driver was waiting for her just beyond Customs.

  “Hello, Ramon, it’s good to see you again,” she said as he took her overnight bag from her.

  “My wife and I have missed you,” he responded with genuine warmth. “Maria enjoyed having your company.”

  “And I enjoyed hers,” Abby admitted, a twinge of regret cutting off further words. Better get straight to business. “Is there a lot to be done before the reception?”

  He gave her an odd sideways look. “Not so much. Most of the guests arrived yesterday. The earl has taken them for a day-long fishing trip. They won’t be back until this evening. Maria is not looking forward to that.”

  “Why is that?” she asked, smiling at the face he was making.

  “All those smelly fish to clean.”

  Abby laughed. “Then we’ll just have to lend a hand, won’t we?”

  The drive to Smythe’s Roost, in the middle of the island, took less than thirty minutes, even during the busiest time of the day. Between noon and two in the afternoon, offices in Hamilton, the capitol, virtually emptied out as employees took their lunch breaks. Few seemed inclined to the American workaholic’s practice of eating at one’s desk.

  The villa was as beautiful as she remembered it. Flowers bloomed in profusion in the gardens. The darling tree frogs whistled their love calls. Colorful birds flitted through the tops of soaring royal palms. Playful lizards darted behind thick foliage as the car passed. This was truly a tropical paradise.

  In a second’s flash, Abby remembered all the happy times she and Matt had shared, before she was overcome by a surge of regret. In two days, she would leave Bermuda, having seen Matt for what must surely be the very last time. She prayed Paula was right and this would be a final, cleansing experience for her—proof that she was indeed over him.

  Maria greeted them in a vivid orange dress at the back door. “Come in, come in, missus. We are so excited to have you back.”

  “Thank you,” Abby murmured graciously, although her heart ached and her stomach was cramping with nerves.

  Ramon led the way up the curve of stairs to the second floor, carrying her luggage. When he reached for the door to the master bedroom, Abby held out a hand to stop him. “No. The earl and I…surely he told you that I was to have a separate room.”

  He smiled at her over his shoulder. “Lord Smythe said this one was for you. You would feel most comfortable here. He has taken another.”

  “Oh,” she said feeling foolish for jumping to conclusions. Matt would no more want to put himself in such an awkward situation than she would. “Of course.”

  The room was even more lovely than she remembered it. Pale gauze curtains drifted inward on the breeze off Hamilton harbor. The scent of frangipani and honeysuckle came through the open windows. White wood furnishings were offset by cool, pastel splashes of pink and mint green on the bedding and in the watercolor prints on the walls. It was a room that soothed and welcomed, and lowered the blood pressure just by stepping into it.

  Abby took only enough time to unpack her few toiletries and hang the dress she would wear that night. The remaining few items of casual clothing she had brought, she left in her travel bag. For such a short trip, it made no sense to transfer things into drawers.

  After freshening up and applying a fresh coat of lipstick, she set out for Matt’s study. As she’d expected, he had left instructions for her on his desk. She set to work organizing the lovely salon that opened onto a veranda at the back of the house. He wanted a champagne toast to start off the evening, along with simple canapés, imported caviar and a selection of tropical fruits and cheeses. She tried to choose items that complimented the French champagne, and wondered why he had chosen that beverage when he normally liked a variety of wines and cocktails to offer his guests. She decided this must indeed be a very special occasion for him, just as Paula had indicated.

  By five o’clock she had finished and everything was ready for the guests. They had yet to appear, which was probably fortunate. She’d have time to change, then greet everyone as they arrived at the reception. She asked Maria for a guest list and the files Matt always kept on each client. The cook looked worried and avoided meeting Abby’s questioning gaze.

  “He left nothing like that,” she said quickly. “Lord Smythe will be there to introduce you to everyone.”

  Abby shrugged. Whatever the man wanted…

  She went off to change her clothes and do her hair. Champagne required a sophisticated French twist, she decided. With her hair pinned up, gold earrings in her lobes, and a beaded black cocktail dress she had bought in New York while she had still been working for Matt, she felt on top of her game. Nothing would rattle her tonight, she told herself—there were emotional hurdles but she would clear them.

  To Abby’s surprise, as she approached the salon, she heard voices. She walked in to find several couples chatting, clustered around an older man who seemed the focus of everyone’s attention. She immediately sensed that everyone knew one another. More than that. There was a distinct atmosphere of conspiracy, as if they were all acting with a single purpose. One she didn’t understand. Abby shot a hasty look around the room and found Matt, talking with a man and woman of unmatched beauty. She could only have described them as regal. The woman’s eyes shifted across the room toward Abby; her smile was dazzling. She whispered something close to Matt’s ear.

  He turned.

  Abby’s heart simply stopped.

  The expression in his eyes was impossible to turn away from. She tried to force herself to take a step forward, but found she could not. Neither could she back away from him.

  In the next moment, he was striding across the room toward her, his hand reaching out, his eyes alive with anticipation. “Everyone, this is Abigail Benton. Abby once worked for me, but became far too important to my life to remain a mere employee.”

  She blushed and felt a rush of panic. “What are you doing?” she squealed under her breath. “I don’t want strangers thinking—”

  “They aren’t strangers,” he interrupted.

  “Clients then. Paula said they were the most important people you dealt with.”

  “Important, but not part of my business,” he said softly. “This is my family, Abby. They have come to meet you.”

  She swallowed, staring in horror around the room, finally beginning to recognize faces familiar from newspapers, TV broadcasts, gossip magazines. Her eyes flashed back to the couple he’d been talking to when she came in. “That’s the king and queen of Elbia.” She was shaking her head even while making a statement she knew was true.

  “Yes, my brother Thomas and his wife are codirectors for their Royal Highnesses’ personal charities. King Jacob will meet with the American President next week. We talked him into stopping off in Bermuda for a rest from his busy schedule.”

  “And…and the other two young men are your brothers?”

  “Yes, that’s Thomas and his wife, Diane, over by the canapés. Christopher is speaking with my father.”

  “Your father! But I thought—”

  “We haven’t seen each other in over a decade. I thought it was time.”

  She stepped back, shocked, wary, trying to remove her
hand from his. But he tucked it firmly between his side and elbow, then led her farther into the room as the others watched with undisguised interest.

  “Why?” she whispered. “Why now…and without warning me?”

  “Now, because you told me once that life was too short and family too important to shut out. Why not tell you ahead of time? Because you wouldn’t have come, and you had to be here.”

  “I don’t understand.” Her heart filled her throat. This was all too overwhelming.

  “You are the guest of honor,” he murmured with a devilish smile she found as disturbing as it was seductive. His lips brushed her ear, and she had to stop herself from jumping away from the heat in his touch.

  Before she could object or ask anymore questions, Matt began the formal introductions. The wives of his two brothers she knew were both American women. She liked them both immediately. Diane was a down-to-earth brunette with four children, three by a previous marriage that, Abby gathered, hadn’t been as happy as the relationship she now enjoyed with Thomas Smythe. Jennifer lived with Lord Christopher Smythe in a Scottish castle they were restoring. They were still newlyweds and had that honeymoon glow about them. The king and queen were dazzling. But Matt’s father carried himself with stiff solemnity that bespoke a man of stature and importance. His sharp eyes never left Abby during the introductions.

  “And now, the reason for our being here,” Matt announced.

  Abby turned back to face him with a frown. She felt at a disadvantage; everyone else in the room seemed aware of what was going on but she didn’t have a clue.

  Matt reached into the pocket of his dinner jacket and withdrew a small jeweler’s box. Her first thought was that this was a belated parting gift from the company. But, if that was so, why was his family present? Then the truth struck her with an impact that wrenched the breath from her lungs.

  “Oh no, Matt…” She tried to turn away, but he seized her wrist and brought her back around to face him again.

  “You have to let me do this,” he said firmly. “Answer as you will, but let me say my piece.” His eyes blazed darkly at her.

  She stood, her body shaking, certain she would collapse on the floor in the middle of this distinguished assemblage. Closing her eyes, Abby wished for invisibility, a stock market crash, an earthquake…anything to stop Matt from saying the words she knew she could never believe to be true.

  “Everyone in this room has been waiting for this moment for a very long time,” he began. There was a low murmur of agreement. “For two reasons. The first is, I have held myself separate from this family for far too many years. I needed someone in my life to make me realize that one loss doesn’t mean I should turn myself away from love forever.” Abby stared at him. “The other reason is, they’ve wanted to see me settle down and do something with my life other than make more money…as lovely as it is.”

  There was gentle laughter now. But it stopped as soon as Matt opened the box in his hand and displayed a diamond the size of a large almond. Abby fell back two steps, but ran into Diane, who whispered in her ear, “Steady, girl.”

  She blinked at the stone as Matt slid the gold ring with the enormous solitaire onto the fourth finger of her left hand. “Oh…I don’t know what to say!” Tears were flowing down her cheeks. This was all so confusing. It seemed such a cruel hoax. How could she ever believe that Matt meant to marry her when such a short time ago he had told her he could not?

  With a heavy heart, she looked around at the smiling faces surrounding them. They were waiting for her answer. The world was closing in around her.

  “I can’t,” Abby sobbed. Pulling off the ring, she pressed it into Matt’s palm.

  Abby ran for the veranda doors, pushed through to the garden and didn’t stop running until she came to the far end of the flowerbeds. She collapsed onto a stone bench, buried her face in her hands and wept.

  She wasn’t sure how long she sat there before a deep voice spoke to her. “He’s used to getting what he wants. Too much like his stubborn father.” When she looked up, the old earl stood before her, his expression gentle and concerned.

  “I’m sorry,” Abby whispered. “I behaved badly in there. That wasn’t a very gracious refusal.”

  “Do you mind my asking why you have turned down my son’s proposal of marriage?” He waited but she could give him no answer. She couldn’t trust her voice not to break. “To my knowledge,” he continued, “no other woman has been worthy of his offer. Did you refuse him because you don’t love him?”

  She shook her head. “It’s because I know, in his heart, he doesn’t want to be married—to me or anyone else. I don’t think he’ll ever trust a woman to stay in his life. So he will eventually feel compelled to leave her…me.”

  “Because of his mother,” the earl stated.

  “Yes.”

  He walked around to her other side and sat on the bench beside her. “This is a good deal my fault. I turned my back on my family the day Anna left me. I gave up on my boys.”

  Abby turned to him, moved by the deep emotion in his voice, something she was certain he rarely revealed to others.

  “You loved her very much,” she whispered. “What happened?”

  “Anna was a free spirit, and I had a title, responsibilities, a serious nature. She stayed longer than I thought she would, giving me three sons. But when she did finally leave, after saying for years that she felt trapped, I was shocked. I didn’t handle it well.”

  Abby was struck by a tenderness in his voice that seemed inconsistent with a man deserted by his wife. “You still love her,” she whispered.

  “Yes, although it took me a very long time to admit it.” He gave her a sideways look. “I can only guess at the heartbreak my son has put you through, while trying to work out his own feelings. But I can tell you this. The four short years that I shared with that woman made everything else worthwhile. No one can guarantee love will last forever, but I believe that Matthew has come to believe, as his brothers recently have, that the risk is one worth taking. He loves you, Abigail. And you love him. What more can two people ask?”

  There were tears in the old man’s eyes when he finished. Swallowing over the lump in her throat, Abby blinked away her own tears. Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his whiskered cheek.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  They sat in silence for a moment before she became aware of a shadow falling between the lights from the house and the garden bench. She looked up to find Matt watching them.

  “You see how clever I am? Sending in the wiser, older man to soften you up?”

  She laughed, her mouth still tasting salty. “You Smythe men are relentless.”

  “Aren’t we though?”

  “I’ll excuse myself,” the elder earl said, rising stiffly. “I believe the rest is up to you, my boy.”

  Before his father had disappeared through the hedges of roses, Matt knelt before Abby. She started to object, but only smiled at the old-fashioned gesture. “I don’t know if you can trust me to give you what you need,” he said, holding her hands tightly between his own. “But I swear I couldn’t live without you now, Abby. You’re in my soul. Marry me, please. You won’t regret it, and neither will our children.”

  “Oh, Matt,” she cried. “Is this real?”

  “Absolutely real, my love.”

  Flinging her arms around his neck she squeezed hard as he stood, lifting her with him in strong arms. He kissed her soundly on the mouth. Their kiss deepened, and her heart soared. But she was the one to pull away.

  “What’s wrong now?” he asked, looking worried.

  She beamed up at him. “Before I say yes, let me have another look at that outrageously immense ring.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Twelve

  Abby’s days took on a Bermuda-pink hue. She telephoned her new employer in Chicago and quit her job, then called Dee. Even after Matt’s brothers, their wives and his father left for England, she drifted throu
gh rose-dawned mornings, sun-bright tropical afternoons and star-studded nights of bliss. Yet it still sometimes seemed too good to be true. And Matt must have understood her wariness for one evening as they dressed for dinner, he asked, “Are you still concerned about something?”

  “No,” she said brightly, then adjusted her answer. “Not concerned as much as puzzled.”

  He took her hand and they sat on the wide bed facing each other. “Tell me.”

  She struggled to find words that would make sense of her feelings. “It’s just that you fought serious relationships and marriage for so very long. Then you seemed to so easily change your mind. I have trouble trusting sudden changes in people.”

  He smiled down at her and combed his wide fingers through the screen of burnished hair that had fallen across her face as she gazed down at their linked hands. “It wasn’t as sudden as you might think, or as easy. But the battle has been won, believe me.”

  She lifted her eyes to him. “How do I know?”

  He thought for a moment. “Because it was such a difficult thing for me to do, taking that first step to reconcile with my father. For all my adult life I believed it would be impossible to approach him, to tell him how I felt—about my mother, about his rejection. Then I met you and I needed you in my life. And there seemed no other way to convince you I wanted to be part of a family, other than taking that dreaded first step to mend my past.”

  “You did it for me?” she whispered.

  “Initially, yes. Later, after I’d spent several days in London with my father, I realized it wasn’t all for you. I hadn’t felt that good about myself in a very long time. I felt—” he hesitated, searching for the words “—whole again. Mended. Capable of being a strong partner in marriage, and a father.”

  Tears threatened to fill her eyes, but she kept them back. Even happy tears had no place in this room with them.

  “I am so very proud of you,” she murmured and pulled him toward her for a sweet, sweet kiss.