Earl of Charm: Wicked Earls’ club

by Maggie Dallen

  Olivia, who had been watching him closely, a small smile hovering over her lips. “I have had a talk with my father, you know.”

  He blinked at the sudden change of topic. For nearly five minutes now they had been exchanging mundane, utterly boring niceties about the weather. Atrocious, seemed to be their united opinion on that front.

  But now… He turned to look at her father, who was not attempting to hide his interest in their conversation as he stood beside Aunt Gertie and Olivia’s mother.

  “He seems to think that you wish to do right by me.” Her eyes sparkled with rueful laughter, and there was no missing the teasing in her tone, almost as though she were mimicking her father.

  He cleared his throat. Well, this was it. The time had come. He’d rehearsed the words he’d say beforehand—to himself and the mirror, and again with Tess who’d given him a small smile of encouragement in exchange. And yet, they seemed to stick in his throat.

  Being responsible does not always mean making the right decisions. Sometimes it means making a choice, and making it be the right one.

  Davenport’s words came back to him now in full force and with new significance.

  Obligation tugged at him but desire…passion. That too rose up in equal measures, making words impossible.

  Olivia’s lips twitched as she bit back a smile. “I did not mean to startle you with that statement, merely…” She shrugged. “Get to the heart of the matter.”

  “Yes, I…er…I…”

  Oh blast. Of all the times to revert back to his awkward speechless ways…

  He could not do go through with it. The pretty proposal speech he’d had planned—he could not bring his lips to form the words.

  He should.

  He ought to propose right now. By all rights, he should say something eloquent. Something kind. He opened his mouth…nothing.

  It would not come. His head understood what he should do as the Earl of Charmian. Duty and obligation told him he should honor his brother’s promise and combine their families. And yet…

  His heart would not cooperate.

  His heart seemed to have a stranglehold on his tongue.

  He gaped at Olivia for so long, it grew painfully awkward. When she laughed, he jerked back in surprise.

  “I apologize,” she said through her laughter. “I was just remembering how your brother used to say that you did not have a dishonest bone in your body.”

  Alex blinked. “He did?”

  She nodded quickly, her eyes softening with affection. “He did. Do you know, he also used to say that it was you who ought to inherit the earldom?”

  He widened his eyes, studying her to see if she was in jest. While a smile still hovered over her lips, she did not seem to be teasing.

  “Why would he—but that’s absurd,” he managed to sputter.

  Frederick had always been the perfect heir, and then the ideal earl. He might not have held the role for long, but he’d been the living definition of all the title had come to mean throughout the years. Grace, charm, nobility, and selflessness.

  “I see you doubt his opinion,” she said, tilting her head down so she was looking up at him through he lashes. The move was coquettish yet not flirtatious.

  “My brother was a fine Earl of Charmian,” he said, his tone stiffer than he’d have liked. Emotion choked him, but speaking of his brother with one who knew him so well was a welcome sort of pain.

  Healing, he supposed.

  Maybe she felt that too because her smile grew, even though her eyes had grown moist with unshed tears. “Of course he was,” she said. “Your brother had many wonderful attributes, most of which you seem to share.”

  He kept his mouth shut as he had no idea what one should say to such an obvious exaggeration.

  “You share his desire to do right,” she said. “Your loyalty to your family and your devotion to the title…they do your brother justice.”

  He looked down at their feet, ashamed and guilt-ridden at the fact that he’d been hoping to shirk that duty. That his desire for Clara had very nearly won out over what duty told him he must do.

  “Your brother always felt that you were so responsible, so reliable…that you would have made a fine earl.”

  “Yes, well,” he managed to mutter. “I hope he’s correct.”

  She said something else. Something complimentary, he assumed, judging by the sweet softness of her voice. But he failed in his new lesson to listen because he couldn’t concentrate on her or her words. All he could hear was Clara’s voice. I’d take responsible over charming any day.

  His heart was twisting painfully in his chest, and it took everything he had not to turn and face her.

  If he did, there was no way he could go through with what he must.

  “I do have a responsibility,” he said, his voice so low it was surprising anyone could hear it.

  Olivia stopped speaking, her eyes widening in surprise.

  “I have a responsibility to you,” he said, his voice firmer and louder now. Resignation settled in his bones as he straightened his spine, assuring himself for the millionth time that he would still do right by Clara. He would fund her school singlehandedly, if that was what it took. He’d make sure she wanted for nothing.

  And if she chose to marry another, he would…

  What? Wish her well?

  The thought was unbearable.

  He cleared his throat and narrowed his gaze on Olivia, whose eyes were wide with surprise. He knew what he ought to say. The words were there, waiting to be spoken and he willed himself to say them.

  But he could not.

  He would not.

  “My brother made you a promise, and while I know what I ought to do, I am afraid that I cannot. However, you must know that I will help you in any way that I can, and I—”

  “Alex,” Olivia interrupted. All laughter was gone, her eyes now filled with unbearable sadness that made him curse his brother’s fate. So tragic, and so many lives destroyed. “Stop, please.”

  Blood rushed through his ears at the realization that he’d done it. He’d chosen Clara—he’d chosen himself—over his duties and obligations. The sense of freedom was marred by guilt, but he did not doubt his decision.

  He did not doubt his heart.

  And yet… Determination had him straightening, his hands clenching into fists. He would never abandon his brother’s fiancé. He would find a way to help her, to make this right. His brows drew down as he stared at Olivia.

  Perhaps it was more of a glare.

  “My brother would want me to ensure that you are taken care of,” he continued.

  “And I will be,” she interrupted. When he opened his mouth to speak again, she placed a hand on his arm. “Alex, I will be all right.” She pressed her lips together and drew in a deep breath. “I will be all right without your help.”

  Silence fell between them, tense with all that was unspoken between them. “Tonight I had intended—”

  “I know,” she said. “And I appreciate what you had planned to do.” She cast a quick glance over his shoulder in the direction of her father. “My father does as well. If it were up to him…” She shrugged, her smile rueful. “But he has allowed me to have a say in my future, and while I admire you immensely…”

  Her gaze fell to his feet just as his had done before.

  “You do not wish to marry me.” He said it more for his own benefit, to ensure that he had heard her right.

  “No,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.

  He felt like a prisoner released from his shackles, and the sigh that escaped him perhaps said more than he intended as his guilt eased.

  Olivia laughed. “Well, I do not know that you need to look quite so relieved.”

  He knew she was teasing as his expression had not altered. It rarely did. One of many faults that made his new nickname a joke.

  But Clara did not seem to mind.

  I’ll take responsible over charming any day.

  Oli
via toyed with the cuff of her sleeve before meeting his gaze once more. “Your brother was too hard on himself.”

  His brows shot up in surprise. “Was he?” All he’d ever seen from his brother was confidence and surety. He’d always seemed to know exactly how to act and what to say. He’d been born to his role of eldest and heir, and no one had ever doubted his capacity to do it all. And with a smile, no less.

  She nodded. “I do not believe he wished for you or your sister to know that he doubted himself, or make you think that he resented his role.” She lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. “Perhaps he thought he would sound ungrateful if he spoke about wanting anything other than all that he’d been given.”

  Alex stared at her with the sort of intensity that Clara teased him about. But right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was trying too hard to reconcile her words with his memories of his brother.

  Olivia shifted closer to him. “Your brother judged himself so harshly for having personal desires or dreams,” she said. “He thought he was too selfish. Thought following his heart was such a bad thing.”

  She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, as if still exasperated with him. Alex got the impression this was a conversation the two of them had explored in depth.

  “He used to say he was wicked, can you imagine?” Her laughter held only a hint of sadness.

  “Wicked,” he repeated quietly, his mind going back to that conversation with Davenport and the pin that had started it all.

  “Yes,” she continued. “The silly man never did seem to understand that he was hardly wicked for having desires and passions of his own, separate from his title.”

  Her gaze met his and he knew without her saying that she was no longer strictly speaking about Frederick. She was addressing him now, and those clear blue eyes suddenly seemed so much older and wiser than her years.

  “As I told your brother, one does not stop being an individual when he takes on a title. Putting family and duty above all else is noble, but a man cannot base his entire life trying to please everyone.”

  Alex swallowed, his gaze darting to his right for a glimpse of Clara.

  When he looked back, Olivia’s smile was knowing.

  “Dear, we really should be going.” Olivia’s mother’s voice interrupted whatever she’d been about to say.

  Olivia glanced over before leaning in. “I thank you for the offer you almost made,” she said. “And I officially relinquish you from whatever responsibilities you think you owe me.”

  “Thank you,” he said, gratitude spilling out of him as he squeezed her hand that rested on his arm.

  Her gaze moved past him toward Clara.

  “Do not make the same mistakes as your brother,” she said. “Do not deny yourself just to please others. You’ll never succeed in pleasing everyone, anyway.”

  She added this last part with a little shrug, and in the next heartbeat she was being led away from him, her family surrounding her.

  Her father gave him a nod of acknowledgement as he passed and Alex was certain that he’d already known what his daughter was going to say.

  When at last all of the guests were gone, he found himself alone in the foyer, the ladies having departed for their own rooms the moment the door was closed.

  He stood there for ages, thinking over all that Olivia had said, his mind stretching and fumbling in its attempt to recast his brother as a man with fears, a man with wants that conflicted with duty, a man with doubts and insecurities.

  He shouldn’t have been so surprised, he supposed.

  His brother had been a great man, but he had been mortal.

  Do not make the same mistakes…

  No, he did not intend to.

  For the first time in his life, Alex felt a smile overtake his face. Standing there alone, he experienced a surge of joy that came with certainty and freedom.

  Make a choice.

  That was exactly what he meant to do.

  Chapter Seven

  Clara was not due to leave for another week, but it was never too soon to start packing.

  Right?

  Of course not.

  She fussed with the edges of a petticoat as she folded it, her heartbeat frantic and her hands trembling.

  Flee. Everything in her was urging her to run away. She couldn’t take it any longer. She’d thought she’d be able to watch Alex woo another, but it had been so much more difficult than she could ever have imagined.

  She should have left days ago.

  And gone where?

  That thought had her pausing in her task. Where on earth did she think she was going? She was tied to the Dowager, the penniless companion. There was nowhere for her to run, not until she found a way to fund a school.

  She dropped down onto the bed. The dream that had been keeping her going felt hollow and distant and utterly lonely. Of course she wanted to help her sister and others in the same position, but the thought of doing it all on her own. Of giving up her dreams of a family once and for all…

  She swallowed down tears. Crying never did anyone a lick of good. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to unfold the clothing that was now scattered on her bed.

  Running away was not an option. All there was for it was to keep a stiff upper lip and dry her eyes, focus on the future.

  A future without Alex.

  Heartache had her pressing her lips together to hold back a sob. She was so tired of being stoic, so exhausted from standing tall.

  She eyed her pillow. Or perhaps she was merely exhausted because of the late hour. She’d likely regain her pragmatic attitude once she’d gotten some sleep.

  Yes, that was it. Sleep would definitely mend her heartache.

  With a sigh she pulled back the counterpane, but stopped as a soft knock sounded on her door. She eyed the door, surely she was mistaken. Who would be knocking at her door in the middle of the night?

  But there it was again. Soft but sure.

  Alex.

  She sat there frozen for too long, torn between desire and self-preservation. She was too fragile, too weary, too overwhelmed with emotion. If she were to see him now she would not be able to keep her distance, even if he was engaged to another.

  She squeezed her eyes shut tight at the thought. Watching them together tonight had been horrible. Like a living nightmare. Watching the man she loved woo another when she was nearly certain he felt the same.

  But then, he would not be the man she loved if he did not have such a keen sense of duty.

  She groaned as the knock sounded again, louder this time, the sound echoing the loud thud of her heart.

  Why could he not let her be? This was hard enough without added temptation.

  But when his knocking grew louder still, she found herself bolting up from the bed and rushing over. Her will power was only so strong, and besides…she could not risk his great aunt waking to find him at her door.

  She threw the door open to find him standing there—dashing, dark, and oh so serious, even with one hand hovering in front of him mid-knock.

  “May I come in?” His voice was a low growl that sent shivers through her.

  She should send him away. This was wrong in so many ways. She would never survive the heartache of watching him walk away…again.

  She shut her eyes. Oh why could she not have left days ago? Why had she not thought of an excuse to leave and save herself this pain?

  And yet, despite what her mind was telling her she found herself stepping aside, letting him in. No matter what that voice of self-preservation told her, she had a feeling she would never be able to say no to this man.

  She turned, shutting the door behind her as he strode into the bedroom, stopping short when he saw the clothes piled atop her bed. He spun around with furrowed brow. “Going somewhere?”

  “No.” She shrugged. “Yes.”

  A sigh and then the truth tumbled out, “I do not know.”

  He stared at her—glared at her. He looked straight through her
and into her heart, of that she was certain. She braced herself for it, for the news that he had surely come to tell her.

  That it was done. That he was promised to another.

  That this…thing between them, whatever it was, could go on no longer.

  But it seemed as though he was reverting back to the same stoic, quiet, statue of a man she’d first met because he did not speak and the silence between them grew too heavy. She found herself straining beneath it until she could bear it no longer. “If you want me to leave—”

  “Why would I want you to leave?”

  She swallowed. To avoid further temptation? To make your engagement to another easier?

  How very presumptuous of her. She swallowed back the words and a fresh wave of tears along with it.

  He took two steps forward and reached for her. A gasp slipped out as he crushed her to him, surprise and alarm making her eyes widen as he leaned down and claimed her parted lips with his own.

  For a moment she forgot all about heartache, and even managed to forget that there was another woman and that this was a forbidden kiss. For one long heartbeat she let herself revel in the feel of his strong arms around her, his firm lips against hers, the heat of his breath and his body making her feel warm and safe and…loved.

  With a little sob, she pushed him away.

  This was not love, it couldn’t be. It could only ever be something shameful and dirty. He belonged to another, and she belonged to…no one.

  “We cannot,” she said.

  “I love you, Clara.” His words were low, gruff and so beautifully painful to hear.

  “I love you, too.” She held back a sob. The admission was both a relief and a painful knife in her chest, and when he tried to pull her back she fought his grip. She couldn’t resist him if he was touching her.

  “Go on,” she said, tilting her chin up and forcing back the tears. “Tell me what you’ve come here to say.”

  “I’ve already said it.” His brow furrowed once more. “I love you, Clara. For me there is only you—”

  “But?” she said, her voice rising with the urge to sob. “But you have obligations, and duties, and you had to ask for her hand. I know all this, Alex, why are you toying with me? Why are you torturing me with hope?”