The Earl's Temptation

by Emma V. Leech

  Henri nodded totally unconvinced by his words, but understanding finally what it was that held him back, but still ... "Could she not do those things with you, Alex?"

  "You jest, I'm sure?" he said with his most quelling tone. He raised one expressive eyebrow and she understood how foolish he would feel, surrounded by a gaggle of giggling girls, and young men he would consider little more than boys.

  She sighed and shook her head. "Then, if that is your final decision, you must send her away, Alex. It is cruel to keep her here with you. She will never get over you, never find another, all the time she has you to compare them to, don't you see?"

  "I know I have to send her away!" he snapped and then turned his back on her, knowing as well as Henri did that his anger gave him away. "I will thank you not to remind me of my own duties," he added, his cool and disdainful manner returning at once. He sat back down in the chair, looking so weary and care worn that Henri began to wonder if it was really Céleste she should be most concerned for, despite all of his protests. "I haven't found the heart to do it," he admitted. "Foolish as it is the child has placed me on some ridiculous pedestal and I know she'll be terribly hurt when I tell her she must go." He looked up at her, no little demand in his eyes. "I don't suppose ..."

  Henri's hand flew to her mouth and she gasped. "Oh, Alex, no! Please don't ask me to tell her."

  He smiled and shook his head, looking away from her. "No, that would be cowardly wouldn't it?" he said, his voice quiet now. "Only I don't know how I shall bear to hurt her so." She watched him as he looked up, and found his grey eyes as bleak as a winter sky. "I promised her you see. I didn't mean to, but ..." He laughed, but it was a derisive sound that made Henri feel desperately sorry for him "It seems so terribly difficult to tell her anything she doesn't wish to hear. Not a problem I have ever suffered with before I assure you," he added with a self-deprecating sneer. "But you are quite right of course, I'll make arrangements. I thought perhaps I would send her to the Aunts in Hertfordshire, they'll look after her and being so far away ... Well, she will be a good distance from Tregothnan." Henri got up and went to him, crouching down by the chair and laying her hand on his arm.

  "I'm so sorry, Alex, truly, but I do wish you would change your mind and marry her. I think you would be happy. I don't think she wants all the glamour and parties and nonsense as much as you believe."

  He snatched his hand away, giving her a cold look in return for her familiarity. "You are quite wrong I assure you. You didn't hear her at Allaire," he replied, his eyes harsh, daring her to contradict him. "With all the plans for that old house, the parties she would host ..." He shook his head. "She should marry a young man who wants to be in society as much as she does. They'll be wild and extravagant and the talk of the town, and she'll have long forgotten me I assure you."

  "Are you really quite sure about that, Alex?"

  He ignored the comment, saying only, "It is her birthday in a few days, I'll tell her after that, once everything is arranged." The words were spoken lightly, as if it was a trifling matter that concerned him not at all, but Henri was far from convinced. She may not know Alex well but Lawrence did and he believed his brother loved the girl. Added to that the many soft looks she had caught when he believed no one was watching, and the little endearments and occasional comment that escaped him ... the gentleman protested too much she feared.

  She left him staring at the fire, quite unable to find anything else to say, and feeling like a monster. She had wanted to help, and even knowing everything she had said was true, she felt like she had caused two people she cared about very much, a great deal of distress.

  To her relief Lawrence walked through the front door as she left the study and she ran down the corridor and practically threw herself into his arms.

  "Henri! Whatever is the matter," he lifted her chin, looking at her with alarm in his eyes.

  "Oh, don't ever ask me to interfere again, swear that you won't!"

  He sighed and held her close. "Oh dear, you spoke to him. He wasn't angry with you was he?" he demanded. "Because if he was ..."

  "No, no he wasn't angry. Well he was, but only at first but .. Oh, Lawrence, he denies it of course but I really think he's in love with her, but he's so stubborn. He wants her to have the world and everything in it."

  "Well," he said, stroking her hair. "That's not such a bad thing, is it?"

  "Yes," Henri sniffed, feeling miserable for both of them. "Because I don't think she wants it."

  ***

  Alex sat in the study, ignoring the fact that the fire was dying and all the light gone from the skies. The room was growing darker and he couldn't help but feel that was perfectly apt. And then the door burst open and in came Céleste with the puppy yapping at her skirts.

  "Oh, look, Alex, look 'ow 'e follows me about, isn't 'e clever? Even though 'e was really very cross about the bath. Weren't you, ma puce?" She looked up and frowned as she took in the dying fire. "But why are you sitting all alone in the dark? Are you sad, mon beau?" She sat down on the floor at his feet and put her head on his knees. "Why are you so sad?"

  He forced himself to smile at her and shook his head. "Don't be foolish, mignonne. Of course I'm not sad, I must have fallen asleep. You see how stricken in years I am that I cannot stay awake for a whole day," he tried to joke with her but somehow there was a bitter tone to the remark that he felt she heard. Reaching out she took his hand and put it to her cheek.

  "But you are really not sad? You are not unhappy to have me 'ere, with you?" she asked, her voice low and so unsure that it made his chest tight.

  He was silent for a moment, wondering how on earth he could reply. How on earth he could explain that when she left, she would take all the light and the joy from his life, and he feared there would be nothing left in it to find pleasure in.

  "I am not unhappy to have you here, Céleste. That much I can promise you."

  Chapter 14

  "Wherein the future looks bleak and the past catches up."

  Alex got through the next few days, only by holding to his reserved demeanour as far as he could in Henri and Lawrence's company, and by extracting every ounce of happiness he could find in Céleste. When he was with her he plastered a smile to his face that seemed to reassure her and he spoiled her beyond good sense for her birthday, to a point where she was quite dazed and overwhelmed. Dresses and lace, books and jewellery, and boxes of marzipan candies that were such a delight as she had never seen anything as sweet and frivolous as the miniature fruits.

  She had exclaimed in wonder and run about the room insisting everyone share them with her until they protested they would be sick if they ate any more. He knew he would remember for the rest of his days the image of her surrounded by wrapping papers, looking up at him as though he had given her the world on a plate. Well, he hadn't, not yet, but if it was within his power, he would do just that.

  Her favourite gift of all was a gold locket which she had insisted he put on her immediately and swore she would never take off. They had all stayed up until the early hours, and he knew that Henri and Lawrence were aware of his decision. He would tell her in the morning, and so this last day was one to not let go, not until the very last moment.

  He didn't sleep that night, too aware of what was to come, but it was late by the time he came downstairs, aware that Céleste would probably sleep in after her late night. So it was with some surprise that he found her in the study, waiting for him.

  "Enfin!" she said, with a huff, pretending to be cross with him. "I thought you would sleep all day, and look, it is so bright and sunny. Will you walk with me, s'il te plaït? I am so full of ... of ..." She laughed and shook her head. "I don't know what, just everything 'as been so wonderful and I feel like I could run for miles or climb a mountain ... or anything at all. Is that very foolish?"

  "No, ma mie, not foolish. It is what it is to be happy."

  She sighed and took his arm, leaning into him. "Oui, mon beau, I am very 'appy."
<
br />   He pulled his arm away from her, his expression fierce. "Don't call me that, Céleste, it is not appropriate."

  A puzzled look marred her beautiful face as she looked up at him and tried to take his arm once more. "But why? I am your mignonne, why can you not be mon beau?"

  "Because it isn't the same," he said, his voice sharp as he tugged his arm from her grasp once again. "I speak to you like ... like a niece, someone I am fond of, that's all. There is nothing more to it than that so kindly stop inferring that there is."

  She looked up at him, and he waited for her to be angry but she just looked away. "Oui, Alex," she said, her eyes cast down. "I am sorry."

  He hardened his heart against the need to beg her forgiveness. This had to be done, he was doing it for her after all.

  "Come then," he said, allowing his voice a little more warmth. "Let's take that walk shall we?"

  They walked rather further than he had intended, but with every moment he promised himself he would broach the subject, he found another to put it off, just a little longer. She looked enchanting in a light green redingote over a pale yellow walking dress and a pretty straw poke bonnet lined with yellow satin completed the ensemble and put Alex in mind of primroses, so sweet and fresh was the result. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her so but he held the words back with regret. He had no right to offer such compliments and confuse her young heart any further. He had to tell her what her future held.

  But it was such a beautiful day, he didn't want to spoil it for her. Perhaps he should tell her tomorrow after all. Because today was too perfect, there was real warmth in the sun and the first tentative signs of spring were all around. Catkins dangled from the branches, fat as caterpillars, and new shoots pierced the soil like tiny green daggers. In the fields the lambs were new and well pleased with themselves and the cranes announced their triumphant return, calling from high in the bright blue, their precise arrow formation pointing the way.

  "It is so beautiful 'ere. Is it very different from Tregozhnan?"

  Alex smiled, loving the way she spoke the old name, it sounded somehow new and exotic when she said it, as though the dusty old house had some mysterious secret he had yet to discover. "Very, ma ... Very different, yes," he said, catching himself. He had to put a stop to that. "Cornwall is not as soft and pretty as here. It is very beautiful, but it is a great and sometimes dangerous beauty I feel. It is a hard place and breeds tough people, but they live fiercely for it."

  "You love it very much, don't you?" She looked up at him and he avoided her eyes.

  "I suppose. I was born there after all."

  She paused, turning to him. "Alex?"

  "Yes."

  "I wanted to thank you, for everything. Yesterday ... I will never forget it. It was so perfect." He turned away from the gratitude and adoration in her eyes, wondering how he would get through the coming days, weeks, years ... without that warmth to nourish his soul. He had come to know how it felt to have someone depend on him, not just for their security like any number of tenants and dependants, but for comfort and happiness and reassurance and ... the thought of losing that was beyond anything he'd known before.

  "You have already thanked me, Céleste, there is really no need to keep on doing so," he said, hating the indifferent tone of his words. He sounded bored and derisive, a tone which any of his contemporaries would find very familiar from him. But to use it with her, to give her such a set down made his soul recoil in agony. "You must know by now I am very wealthy. They were merely trifles. However I am glad they pleased you."

  "They did," she said, and now he could hear the hurt and confusion in her voice. "Especially this," she said, trying to smile and holding out the locket to him. "I love it, but you must give me a lock of your hair to keep in it, then ..."

  "No!"

  He felt her jump in shock at the anger in his voice.

  "You must stop this utter foolishness, Céleste. I have tried to tell you gently but now I must make things perfectly clear. You will stop speaking to me as you would a lover. It is disgusting to me to consider one as young as you could ever be anything other than a ward. I am not and never will be anything more than your guardian. I will sponsor your entry into society via my Aunt Seymour as soon as you are ready to come out, but further than that, this ... this intimacy that you have somehow fallen into will cease immediately."

  He paused and dared to look at her but she had turned her head and was staring away from him and he could see nothing of her face, hidden as it was by the brim of her bonnet. "I blame myself, I should have put a stop to it earlier. It is entirely my fault for being too lax with you and allowing it, but you must understand that there is not and never will be anything between us. I have no intention of ever marrying but if I did, it would not be to a penniless little chit barely out of the schoolroom!" He stopped again, raging inwardly against the words and praying she would turn on him. Let her be angry, let her hate him as she damned well ought to. She should despise him and he would help her do it. But still she said nothing. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest but her face still turned away and he couldn't bring himself to look at her, for if she was crying all of his words would likely be for nothing as he couldn't bear to hurt her so. "Do you understand?" he demanded, his voice appallingly cold and hard.

  There was silence for a moment, save for the cheerful bleating of the lambs, but then she nodded. "Oui, Alex, I understand."

  He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that she was taking it so well. Perhaps the next part would not be so very much of a surprise now.

  "On Monday I will be taking you to England," he said, trying to keep his voice even and firm, and wondering why his chest felt so damned tight. He could barely breathe for the weight that held his lungs in an iron grip. "My aunts will be waiting for us at Tregothnan and they will take you from there to go and live with them. They will prepare you for your first season and when they feel you are ready they will help to launch you into society. They are a formidable pair and know everyone worth knowing." He paused, noticing how still she had grown with foreboding. "I am sure you will be a great success," he added.

  The silence was so profound that he had the strangest sensation he could reach out and touch it. Tension radiated from every line of the slim figure beside him and he wished she would say something for he felt compelled to fill the silence. Perhaps he had been too harsh, perhaps he should reassure her.

  "My aunts will adore you of course," he said, his voice sounding suddenly too loud and callous, and still she remained facing away from him, silent. "Aunt Seymour is rather terrifying I grant you, but you'll get used to her, and Dotty- that's Aunt Dorothea to you unless she gives you leave, well, the old dear is a little vague to be sure. But she's sweet and very affectionate. She'll be so thrilled to have you with them."

  He stopped, quite at a loss for anything else to say to her and he prayed she would speak as his usually iron resolve began to weaken and crumble to dust like ancient paper.

  "You lied to me," she said, her voice clear and distinct despite the quietness of her words. She didn't say anything else for a moment and he searched his brain for anything to justify his actions or prove her wrong, but he had nothing. He had lied. He had known it at the time, but he had so wanted it to be true.

  She turned and he almost took a step back when confronted with the rage and anguish in her eyes.

  "You promised! You promised me you would never send me away! What 'as it been, ten days perhaps?" she demanded, advancing on him with such fury he wondered if she would strike him. "I did as you asked, Alex, I didn't tease you, I didn't tell you I love you, I tried to be your friend. It isn't like I expected anything from you," she said, her tone had changed from fury to desperation and there was such pain in her eyes. He didn't know if he could bear it.

  "I know you don't want me that way, I understand. But can't you let me stay?" She reached out and clutched at his hand and hers were icy cold as she clung to him. "I will be good
and quiet, I won't trouble you anymore, I promise. Please, Alex, don't send me away. I will die of loneliness without you."

  He swallowed and reminded himself of all the reasons he was doing this, of everything she would lose if she married him and was consigned to a dusty old house in the middle of nowhere, of the scandalous looks she would receive if he took her out in public, the whispers and the gossip she would be subjected to.

  "Don't be ridiculous," he said, sneering at her and shaking his head so she knew he despised the melodrama of her words. "You won't die I assure you. You will forget all about me as I will you. Soon enough your mind will be occupied with other things. You will be surrounded by admirers; you'll fall in love with each in turn I have little doubt, and you will have far too many interesting diversions to fill your days with. In the end you will thank me I assure you, if you even give a thought to me at all." He shook his hand free of her grasp. "And do please stop mauling me. It is very vulgar and shows your lack of education."

  "I assure you," she repeated, mocking his accent and sneering at him in turn. "I will never thank you for that. If you truly believe I am so shallow as to forget you and fall in and out of love with every man who smiles at me ... Why then you believe I am nothing more than the whore you thought I was after all! I thought you knew me, Alex! I thought you understood, but if you think I want all this ... nonsense ..." She stopped and his heart clenched as the tears finally began.

  "Please God, no waterworks!" He forced the words out, sounding disgusted with her even though he wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her, to reassure her that he thought she was everything that was bright and wonderful.

  "I would be 'appy to stay 'ere with you, or to go to Tregozhnan," she sobbed. "I don't need anybody else, Alex, I don't want them. Please ... just let me stay with you."