The Bachelor Earl

by Burke, Darcy

  Laughing softly, she said, “I am not a girl.”

  “No, you are not. You’re the most desirable woman I’ve ever known.” He clasped his cock and guided himself to her pussy. He held her backside as he moved into her, sheathing himself entirely.

  Resting against her, he exhaled and closed his eyes. She felt so damn good around him, so right. He didn’t think anything in his life had been this perfect, and he somehow knew nothing ever would be.

  “Genie,” he whispered, kissing her temple, her cheek, her lips.

  She dug her heels into his backside. “Edmund, please. Move.”

  “Tell me what you want, Genie.” He kissed her hard and fast. “Should I go slow?” He rotated his hips against hers in a dizzyingly sedate fashion. His blood rushed through his ears, urging him to go faster. “Or should I shag you senseless, as I said?”

  She tipped her head back and moaned softly, then leaned forward and snagged his earlobe with her teeth. “Hard. Fast. Make me come, Edmund.”

  Edmund nearly spilled himself. Where was the hesitant, almost shy, dowager? He didn’t care. He was desperate for this Genie—no, he wanted every aspect of her. He clutched her backside and put his other hand on the side of her head, his fingers digging into her hair beneath her hat. “Look at me, Genie.”

  She focused her eyes on his, and he was lost in the desire blazing in their depths. He thrust into her again and again, increasing his pace until he thundered into her.

  Her eyes slitted, and she cried out.

  “Shh.” He kissed her, taking her moans and whimpers into himself. Each sound increased his drive, pushing him to the precipice. His orgasm gathered. He was so close. He tore his mouth from hers and dragged it to her ear. “Come with me, Genie. Now.”

  Her muscles tightened around him, and he felt her shudder. It was all he needed to let go. In a torrent of need and passion, he drove deep into her and came, somehow managing not to shout his divine satisfaction.

  He held her tightly as their bodies moved together in bliss and desperation. And finally, their tension eased as release washed over them. He held her still, his cheek pressed to hers as he gulped in breath after breath to calm his racing heart.

  Kissing her jaw, he lowered her gently to the ground. She unwrapped her legs from his waist and stood against the stable. Her skirts dropped, covering her once more. Edmund put himself back together, tucking his cock into his smallclothes and buttoning his fall.

  Genie looked toward the house. “That was dangerous.”

  “Perhaps that’s what made it so delightful.” Edmund couldn’t help but smile. “That, and you.”

  She turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide and her cheeks gorgeously flushed. He wanted to look at her like that for the rest of his days.

  “This changes nothing.” She smoothed her hands over her skirts as she took a deep breath.

  The frustration he’d banished working in the stable—and from shagging her—rose in him again. “You can’t deny there is something between us. Do you really want to ignore it?”

  “We must.” She looked at him imploringly. “Edmund, this is not enough.”

  “If you mean sex, there is more than that between us, and you know it. I feel as though I’m holding my breath every moment you aren’t in my sight. Anticipation ravages me until you walk into the room and brighten the world.”

  Her gaze softened as her lips parted. “Edmund. But knowing what we do, this is folly.”

  He felt as though he’d been punched in the gut. “It isn’t to me.”

  Her forehead gathered into worried little pleats. “I’m sorry.” Then she turned and hurried back toward the house.

  He considered following her but didn’t. This wasn’t something he could force. Perhaps she didn’t reciprocate his feelings. He’d wanted her for twenty years. In truth, he’d moved on from her long ago, after she’d wed Kendal. He’d never imagined having a chance, and he certainly hadn’t come to this party with the intention of seeing her, let alone pursuing her.

  This was the realization of a dream from his youth and nothing more. He’d taken a different path and should stay on it—find a wife now who would suit his needs. That meant an heir.

  There were several viable women here. Women without children who might yet bear fruit, and women with children who had proven their ability to give him what he needed.

  That sounded so cold and callous, but it was the way of things, particularly for a man of his station. Marrying for love was a luxury most didn’t achieve. Why should he think he was special?

  Edmund went to pick up his coat and pulled it on. Then he slammed his hat on his head. Ignoring the hollow ache spreading inside him, he stalked toward the house, intent on downing an entire bottle of brandy if he must. Whatever it took to forget about Genie.

  * * *

  Nursing a slight headache the following morning, Edmund was late to breakfast. When he arrived, the only seat available was between Lady Bradford and Mrs. Grey. He immediately regretted his decision to come downstairs.

  Lady Bradford slid him a curious look and whispered, “Are you still drunk?”

  “No.” He’d been rather intoxicated when she’d come to his room last night looking for an assignation.

  “Well, you look terrible.”

  “Thank you.” He nudged the food he’d obtained from the sideboard around his plate with his fork.

  Cosford stood at the head of the table. “It’s my pleasure to make an announcement this morning.” He looked to his left at the couple seated there. “It is my distinct honor to share the engagement of Lord Audlington and Mrs. Sheldon!”

  Applause and cheers sounded from around the table. Rotherham lifted his glass of ale. “A toast to the betrothed couple!”

  Everyone raised their glasses and called, “Huzzah!”

  Edmund sipped his ale as the noise of everyone’s reactions caused his head to throb.

  “I wonder who will be next?” Lady Cosford said from the other end of the table near Edmund.

  He glanced toward Genie across the table next to Lord Audlington, who was gazing besottedly at his betrothed. Genie was staring at her plate.

  “My money is on Mrs. Fitzwarren and Sir Godwin,” Lord Pritchard said with a grin.

  “Now, now,” Lady Cosford said, pursing her lips. “Let us not speculate. It’s incredibly…awkward.”

  “I’ll take that bet,” Mrs. Hatcliff-Lind said, with a ruthless glint in her eye and a smile pulling at her lips.

  “Excellent!” Pritchard turned to their host. “Cosford, will you take down bets?”

  Lady Cosford waved her hand. “No, no, we can’t do that!”

  Cosford coughed. “You heard our intrepid hostess.” He glanced toward Pritchard, and the look they exchanged said the wagers would absolutely happen, just in secret.

  “Well, if they are going to take wagers, I will bet on you and Lady Bradford,” Mrs. Grey whispered from his right.

  Edmund swung his head around to look at her. “What?”

  “I won’t be the only one,” she said, her blue eyes probing his. “Someone saw Lady Bradford outside your chamber last night.”

  Hell and the devil. She had come to his chamber, but he’d turned her away. He’d been far too soused to invite a lady to his bed. More importantly, he didn’t want anyone but Genie.

  His gaze strayed toward her. She was watching him intently, her mouth drawn into a judgmental frown. Damn. Had she heard the rumor about Lady Bradford?

  Swearing silently, Edmund picked up his ale and took a long drink. It didn’t matter what she’d heard or what she thought. She’d been very clear—even after they’d shared that amazing shag behind the stable yesterday.

  He stood abruptly from the table and quit the dining room. He had one more day to suffer this infernal party, and then he could get back to his life. The one that hadn’t included Genie and never would.

  Chapter 9

  One month later, Lakemoor Dower House

&
nbsp; Genie set the letter aside and looked out at the gray afternoon. The dismal sky matched her mood. Another batch of letters from friends—and a potential suitor. Not one of them was from Edmund, nor had there been one from him since the house party.

  Did she really expect him to write? Despite the intimacy they’d shared, they’d left things with an air of finality. Furthermore, she’d departed early.

  After their tryst behind the stable, she’d somehow made it through dinner that night, even though she couldn’t stop thinking of Edmund—his smile, his easygoing nature, the way he made her feel. After dinner, there had been dancing, which had led to a mishap in which Lettie had fallen into Edmund’s arms. They’d laughed and seemed to hold on to one another for a bit longer than necessary. Coupling that with the rumor that Lettie had visited his room the night before, Genie had convinced herself that it was for the best if he pursued Lettie. Or someone else.

  Anyone but her.

  She glanced at the last letter she’d read. It was from Mr. Sterling. He’d written to her three times since the party, and in this letter, he’d asked if he could visit. He was kind, warm, and effusive in his flattery—maybe even a little too much—and clearly in want of a wife. Or, more importantly, a mother for his children.

  She’d half expected to hear from Lord Rotherham too, but had not. Perhaps he’d deemed her too old after all. Especially since, with two daughters, he was still in need of an heir. Like Edmund.

  A movement outside caught Genie’s attention. Her stepson, Titus, strode up the walkway to the front door of the dower house. She stood and heard her butler greet him a moment later.

  Summoning a smile as Titus walked into the sitting room, she bade him enter. “Do you want tea?”

  He shook his head. “No, thank you. I just got back from a ride and thought I’d stop in. Reading correspondence?” He looked toward the desk behind her in front of the window.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes.”

  Titus’s brow puckered. It was an expression that made him look so much like his father that Genie never failed to feel a tick in her chest. With black hair, sharp green eyes, and a tall, fit form, he was an exceptionally handsome man. And at twenty-four, with a ducal title and multiple estates, he was a sought-after match on the Marriage Mart. Or he would be if he put himself in any situations that would give a young lady the impression he was interested in taking a wife.

  He was not.

  “I hope you’ll forgive my impertinence,” he said. “You’ve been…different since you returned from the house party. I assumed it was due to missing Father. I can’t imagine it was easy to be at a social event with other married couples.”

  Genie hadn’t told him about the party at all. He’d taken a trip to one of his other estates a few days after she’d returned and had been gone a fortnight. “Actually, the only married couple in attendance were our hosts.”

  His brows shot up. “Indeed?”

  Genie sat in her favorite chair and gestured for him to take a seat. He dropped onto the settee and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

  “My cousin conceived of the party as a way for widows and widowers as well as unmarried gentleman to…socialize.”

  He looked confused. “Was it a matchmaking enterprise?”

  “Somewhat—but not all the matches were necessarily meant to be permanent. If you catch my meaning.”

  Titus’s lips stretched into a smile. “I do. Diabolically brilliant.” He sobered and pulled his legs up. “You didn’t care for it?”

  “She didn’t tell me the purpose in advance, which I found disappointing. I did not appreciate being surprised. In fact, I wanted to leave immediately, but the rain washed out the road.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this before.”

  She hadn’t meant to keep it from him. Generally, they were quite open with each other. But the party had surprised her in many ways, and she was still trying to determine how to proceed.

  “I am not sure what to say.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I suppose I didn’t want you to think I’d moved on from your father.”

  “Have you?” He exhaled. “Never mind—that’s none of my business. I hope you have, actually. He wanted that.”

  She’d never discussed this with him. “How do you know?”

  He gave her a sheepish look. “You know he left me letters. One of them was about you. He urged me to encourage you to marry again. He argued you are much too young to remain alone.” He paused for a moment, resting his elbow on the arm of the settee. “I tend to agree with him, but it’s entirely up to you. I will support whatever you wish—always.”

  Genie felt such love for this boy—no, man. She supposed he would always be the sweet five-year-old she’d promised to raise as her son when she’d wed his father.

  “Did you…meet someone?” Titus asked, pulling Genie back to the present.

  There was no reason not to tell him the truth. “I did. However, we didn’t suit.” She glanced toward the desk again. “Another gentleman from the party has been writing to me. There’s a chance we may suit, however.” Saying the words out loud made her doubt the possibility. Thinking of Peter Sterling didn’t give her the same rush of anticipation that thinking of Edmund did. She realized she missed him dreadfully—his surreptitious heated looks in her direction, his deep laugh, his care and concern for her well-being.

  He cocked his head. “Forgive me again, but you don’t sound very enthusiastic.”

  “I’m not entirely certain I’m ready to wed again. Now or perhaps ever. I’m not sure I can bring myself to leave Lakemoor. Or you.” She gave him a tremulous smile.

  He leaned forward. “You must make decisions that are best for you. I will be fine.” He glanced away, then met her gaze once more. “You haven’t asked for my advice, but I hope you will pursue what makes you happy. If anyone deserves joy, it’s you.”

  “Thank you.” She instantly thought of Edmund. The time they’d spent together had been her happiest moments since Jerome had died.

  Her butler appeared in the doorway. He looked to Genie. “Your Grace, a gentleman has arrived to see you.”

  Her breath snagged and her heart sped. No, it wouldn’t be Edmund. But how she wished it was. She realized in that moment that she’d fallen quite desperately in love with him. Probably. How could she be sure when she’d only ever loved one other person?

  Because the sensation was similar. She missed Edmund. She thought of him all the time. She yearned to see him again. And now that a gentleman had arrived, she fervently hoped it was him even as she knew it wouldn’t be.

  The butler added, “Mr. Peter Sterling.”

  Genie’s belly sank. “Show him in.”

  Titus started to rise. “Shall I go?”

  “No, stay, if you don’t mind. He will have come a long way. Can he stay at the house tonight?”

  “Of course.” He settled back onto the settee.

  Mr. Sterling came into the sitting room. His dark blue eyes settled on her, and he smiled warmly. Then his gaze landed on Titus, and he seemed to freeze for a moment.

  “Welcome, Mr. Sterling,” Genie said. “Come in and join us. Allow me to present my stepson, the Duke of Kendal.”

  Mr. Sterling bowed. “Your Grace, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “As am I yours,” Titus said. “Please, sit.” He gestured to a vacant chair near Genie.

  Mr. Sterling walked to the chair and slowly lowered himself. “I beg your pardon for arriving unannounced.” He looked to Genie. “Perhaps you received my letter?”

  “Just today, in fact. I was going to respond that I would be delighted to have you visit.” What could she say now that he was here? She flicked a glance at Titus and saw a slight scowl marring his forehead, reminding her again of Jerome.

  Mr. Sterling’s features creased in a brief grimace. “I took that chance. I’m so glad it was the right one.”

  “You’ve come an awfully long way. Kend
al will arrange for your room at the manor house.”

  “That would be most welcome, thank you.” Mr. Sterling inclined his head toward Titus.

  “I’ll go and see to that.” Titus stood. “Dinner will be at six.” He sent Genie a questioning look, and she responded with the barest shake of her head. This wasn’t the man she wanted.

  And she did want a man.

  “See you later,” Titus said before departing.

  Genie drew a deep breath. She needed to tell Mr. Sterling that she was not interested in a courtship or marriage.

  “Are you certain it’s all right that I’ve come?” Mr. Sterling asked.

  “Yes. As you can imagine, I haven’t had many visitors here.” That was certainly true, and while she didn’t want to marry Mr. Sterling, she’d enjoyed his company and conversation at Blickton.

  “You can probably guess why I’ve come. It’s an awfully long journey just to pay a visit.”

  It was indeed, since he lived a few days’ ride from the Lake District. As to why he’d come…yes, she could guess. But she didn’t want to. “Why have you come?”

  He frowned slightly. “I found we suited well at Blickton. I enjoyed our time together very much. I thought you felt the same.”

  The fact that he kept talking about what he felt and thought without asking—and instead assuming—how she felt and thought grated on her nerves, but she pushed that away. She already knew he wasn’t right for her.

  “The house party was most pleasant. Since you have come this far, I am led to believe you wish to continue our relationship.”

  He brightened. “I do indeed. I—my goodness, this is more difficult than I anticipated. I’ve only done this once before, and I was quite young and silly. I must admit, I feel rather silly in this moment.” He laughed nervously. “Or apprehensive.” He slid from the chair and got onto one knee before her. “Your Grace, I would be honored if you would be my wife. I promise to care for you the rest of my days, and I know my children will admire and care for you as much as I do.”