Earl 0f St. Seville

by Christina McKnight

  Coventry smiled. “Welcome to the Wicked Earls’ Club. You have been nominated for admission—if you want to join. There are rules, of course,” Coventry told them. “Nothing too extreme, but you should all find them reasonable. Keep the club a secret, and you forfeit your membership once you marry—only the leader of the group is allowed to have a wife and retain his membership. If you’re wondering who that is—I am the currently in charge of the club and its members.” He glanced at each one of them and asked, “Do you wish to be a part of all this?” He held his arms out wide.

  They all nodded immediately. Jonas didn’t give it much thought, and figured the other two hadn’t either. The sheer excess of the place had won them over. The rest he could figure out later.

  It was a decision he never regretted…

  Chapter 1

  London, 1823

  Dark gray clouds floated in the sky above, threatening to unleash rain upon everyone who dared to walk the streets of London. Lady Marian Lindsay stared up at them as she chewed her bottom lip. It was not a good sign, and she hoped the bad omen didn’t lead to a disastrous meeting with Sir Anthony Davis. Not that rain wasn’t commonplace in England—because it most certainly graced the country with regularity; however, Marian’s luck never held when it deigned to fall from the sky. So her meeting with Sir Anthony would surely be doomed.

  Nonetheless, she fully intended to go through with it. She had plans, and Sir Anthony stood in the way of them. Without his permission, she’d never become a part of the Royal Medical Society. They had this misbegotten notion medicine and women didn’t mix. She hoped to change his mind and have him recommend her for admission.

  She’d been studying medicine and herbs her entire life. All right, maybe not that long, but it felt like it. Her interest started almost a decade ago after her aunt and uncle’s death. They’d both been in a terrible carriage accident near her family estate. Her father was the Earl of Coventry. Her uncle, the Earl of Frossly, married her Aunt Belinda and became a part of the family. After their death, Marian’s mother had been desperate with grief and the loss of her beloved younger sister.

  Everything in Marian’s life changed after that. Her two cousins came to live with them, and her mother became sick following their arrival—leaving her launch into society, as well as her cousin’s, forgotten. Not that she had minded especially once her mother succumbed to her illness and they lost her forever. Her grief had been too great, and she’d decided she wanted more in life. Marian didn’t want to marry and have children. She had much loftier goals—like becoming an actual physician and making a living helping people.

  Which brought her back to Sir Anthony—he had to let her into the society. This was the next step to gaining the knowledge she needed to become a doctor. She glanced up at the sky once more.

  “Please hold off until I’m done,” she begged. “I need a little bit of time.” She quickened her pace until she reached Sir Anthony’s building and pushed the door open. Marian entered as the rain started to fall. It pounded against the street, creating puddles almost instantly. She shut the door and blew out a relieved breath.

  Someone cleared their throat. She turned and found two men standing inside, staring at her with a modicum of surprise etched on their faces. The older gentleman must have been Sir Anthony. He had dark hair streaked with gray. The other gentleman was rather handsome—dashing even. He had dark hair and devilish blue eyes. Much to her chagrin, she’d always found him enticing, and not because he was the most gorgeous male she’d ever seen. There was something about him that made the heart inside her chest beat heavily. Marian’s whole body hummed with some unnamable energy. Jonas Parker, the esteemable Earl of Harrington, would always put her at a disadvantage, and sometimes she believed he knew it too. Damn him. “Hello, my lord,” Marian greeted him and then turned to the older man. “Sir Anthony.” She hoped her presumption was correct and he was the man she thought, or wouldn’t that be embarrassing...

  “Lady Marian,” Lord Harrington said in a slow drawl. “Does your father know you’re in this part of town?”

  Drat. Of course that would be the first thing he’d ask—at least he hadn’t corrected her about Sir Anthony. “My father is well aware of my activities.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. He did know she hoped to be a doctor and humored her. He didn’t really believe she’d succeed, but she planned on proving him wrong. Men had all the advantages in society and women were given little say in their lives. Something she hated to the depths of her soul. “You needn’t worry about me.”

  “What may we assist you with?” Sir Anthony asked. “Did the rain drive you inside?”

  Lord Harrington lifted a brow. “I don’t think that’s it at all.” He kept his gaze on Marian, unnerving her. He saw too much, and she rather disliked the scrutiny. “You’re here because of your little project, aren’t you?”

  Anyone acquainted with her father, and therefore her, was aware of her desire to be a doctor. Her father boasted of her hobby even though he doubted her. It was his way of giving her his support. Not that it was a lot or even a stamp of approval, but it had managed to aid her in her quest thus far. “What if I am?” She jutted out her chin. “You aim to prevent me from taking the next step?”

  He held out his hands in front of him. “Far be it from me to step in front of a bluestocking on a mission. By all means, say your piece and see if Sir Anthony is willing to assist you.”

  Sir Anthony glanced back and forth between them, but Marian barely noticed. She was irritated more than she should be. Lord Harrington was being nice by allowing her to speak—a sardonic, arrogant, and presumptuous…man. Rolling her eyes would not help her convince Sir Anthony she should be a part of the Royal Medical Society. She took a deep breath to calm herself. Calling him names inside her head would not further her goals. She had to pull herself together and try to present herself in the best light to Sir Anthony.

  “You require something from me?” Anthony asked as he gave her his full attention. “What is it?”

  “Well,” she started. This was much harder than she thought it would be. “I have a request I hope you’ll agree to.”

  “Oh?”

  That was it. Nothing else from him or any encouragement for her to go on. Lord Harrington, the rogue, leaned against a nearby table and crossed his arms over his chest. He had a wicked grin on his too handsome face. If Marian wasn’t a lady, she’d do something to wipe that knowing smile away. Someone should put him in his place, and maybe then he wouldn’t be so condescending.

  “I’ve been studying for a while to be a physician…”

  “You have?” Sir Anthony scrunched his eyebrows together. “Your father knows you’re doing this?”

  “Well, yes,” she said. “I did mention he was aware of my activities…”

  “She’s a bluestocking,” Lord Harrington added. “You know how they are when they get an idea in their head. It’s why I didn’t stop her when she came in, if you’ll recall.”

  Marian gave in and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help herself any longer. Why did she have to be attracted to him? He drove her mad in more ways than she could count, yet he was the one man her body became alive near. She hated him for it. “Thank you, my lord.” She pasted a cheerful smile on her face. “You give glowing recommendations.”

  “It’s the least I can do,” he replied with that sinful voice of his. It sent shivers down her spine. “As you can see, Sir Anthony is quite scandalized with your chosen hobby. He’s gone mute with the shock of it.”

  Damn him, he was right. Sir Anthony stared at her as if she were a bug to be studied in length. He hadn’t said a word in several heartbeats. “I had hoped you’d foster my admission into the Royal—”

  “Absolutely not,” he responded with vehemence. “Ladies do not become doctors or study anything. I don’t understand this generation and their need to poke their noses in things they best not be a part of.”

  “Some ladies find science and knowledge enticin
g,” Marian said as she lifted her head in defiance. “Intelligence is quite an attractive asset to inspire to.”

  “Touché,” Lord Harrington agreed. “But I’d take it a step further and suggest there are things a gentleman finds more attractive in a lady than what’s inside their head.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t come here to debate the qualities one looks for in a potential spouse. I want to become an active member of the Royal Medical Society.”

  “That’s not going to happen, my dear. I’m afraid women are not allowed and never will be.” Sir Anthony squared his shoulders, preparing for battle. Good, she planned on giving him something to fight about.

  “Never is a long time to adhere to,” Lady Marian replied. “Do you want to limit yourself when there are infinite possibilities if you’d open yourself up to them?”

  “It’s not up to me,” Sir Anthony told her. “Society has rules for a reason. Go home and do something more ladylike. It truly is for the best.”

  She narrowed her gaze and pursed her lips together. Ladylike? He was much worse than Lord Harrington. At least the earl pretended to give her the space to argue her stance. Sir Anthony was an old-fashioned sycophant. He thought playing up to her feminine tributes would make her abandon her calling and do a bit of embroidery instead. Why could a man do anything he wanted, but a woman had inadequate options? If she decided to take up water colors or the pianoforte, they’d encourage her. Being a doctor though? That was a ridiculous notion.

  “Thank you for your sage advice,” Marian replied with false sweetness. “I’ll leave you gentleman to whatever you were discussing. It’s time for me to return home. Good day.” She curtsied and turned to the door.

  “Wait,” Lord Harrington demanded as he stepped forward. “I’ll escort you.”

  “There’s no need,” she explained. Marian did not want him following her home. If he spoke to her father, then much more than a failed attempt to gain entry into the Royal Medical Society would befall her. “I managed to arrive here safely without an escort. I don’t need one to see I find my way home.”

  “Perhaps,” he replied cordially. “But I will be by your side every step of the way regardless. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you and I could have prevented it.” The corner of his mouth lifted enticingly. “I admire your father, and for that alone I’d see you safely to the ends of the Earth. Nothing you can say will talk me out of this.”

  Damn him. She cursed him for the thousandth time in the space of a half hour. At that rate, she’d start saying it aloud. There was no way she’d win in an argument with him. The easiest way would be to agree, but that irritated her nonetheless.

  “Fine,” she replied. “Have it your way.”

  “I always do,” he retorted. “Good of you to see that.” His blue eyes practically twinkled with mischief. He was a conceited scoundrel.

  She ground her teeth together and refrained from responding. Instead, she spun on her heels and exited the building and Sir Anthony’s misogyny. She would not give up on her dream. There had to be another way, and if there was, she’d find it.

  The rain hadn’t stopped while she was inside the shop. It beat against her in a rapid staccato, making her wish she’d stayed inside a bit longer, or procured a carriage. Why hadn’t she planned this a little better? Because that would have made sense… She’d been blinded by her ambition and the need to be a part of something much bigger than herself. One day she’d learn the benefit of a well laid plan. Unfortunately, that day was not this one.

  “Come with me,” Lord Harrington leaned down and spoke directly into her ear. His heat enveloped her, making her forget where she was for a moment. He picked up her hand and rested it on his arm to lead her in the direction of his choosing. “My carriage is around the corner.”

  She blinked several times as rain continued to drown out the sound of the London Street. What was happening to her? She shook her head and did as Lord Harrington said. A carriage in this kind of weather was desirable, and for the first time since she saw him inside Sir Anthony’s place, she was happy to have him near.

  Thankfully, Lord Harrington’s carriage wasn’t far away. He helped her inside, but unfortunately, she was already soaked through. She couldn’t wait to return home and put some distance between them. Uncomfortable wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how he made her feel, and it didn’t help that she was drenched from head to toe. She had to look a fright… What nonsense.

  Why did she care if she looked less than desirable? Lord Harrington wasn’t a potential suitor even if she was looking for a husband. He was one of the biggest rogues of the ton, and she was firmly on the shelf. Marian was a bluestocking and a spinster in the making, as untouchable as possible and quite content with that fate. Her pent up wantonness could dwindle down to nothing. She didn’t need a man to find happiness.

  Maybe she’d found a spot of luck in a sea of bad fortune. So, she’d taken a couple steps backward from her main goal. That didn’t mean she couldn’t find a way to move forward. For now, she’d allow Lord Harrington to see her home, and then she’d meet with her two closest friends to make a new plan. This was not the end of anything. Marian chose to see to it as a beginning. The likes of Sir Anthony and Lord Harrington would not discourage her.

  Also by Christina McKnight

  Don’t miss the USA TODAY Bestselling Series

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  About Christina McKnight

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author Christina McKnight writes emotional and intricate Regency Romance with rebellious women and maverick heroes.

  Her books combine romance and mystery, exploring themes of redemption and forgiveness. When not writing she enjoys trying new coffeehouses, visiting wine bars, traveling the world, and watching television.

  www.christinamcknight.com

  christina@christinamcknight.com

  Acknowledgments

  A VERY special thank you to all my WICKED EARLS’ CLUB authors. We came, we saw, we conquered!

  There are so many people who support my passion for writing. Here are a few I am blessed to call friend: Marc McGuire, Lauren Stewart, Erica Monroe, Amanda Mariel, Debbie Haston, Angie Stanton, Theresa Baer, Ava Stone, Roxanne Stellmacher, Laura Cummings, Dawn Borbon, Suzi Parker, Jennifer Vella, Brandi Johnson, and Latisha Kahn. Thank you all for accepting me for, well, me.

  A very special thank you to my editor, Chelle Olson with Literally Addicted to Detail, your skill a
nd professionalism surpass all that I expected. Chelle Olson can be contracted by email at literallyaddictedtodetail@yahoo.com.

  Also, a special thanks to my developmental editor, Jessa Slade.

  And to my proofreader, Anja, thank you for embarking on yet another journey with me.

  Cover design and wraparound cover design credit to Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs.

  Finally, thank you for supporting indie authors.