by Lauren Smith
The Earl of Kent
A League of Rogues Novel and a Wicked Earls’ Club Novel
Lauren Smith
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
The Earl of Kinross
Other Titles By Lauren Smith
About the Author
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Lauren Smith
Excerpt from The Earl of Kiross by Meara Platt (c) By Meara Platt
Cover Art by Jaycee DeLorenzo
The League of Rogues (R) is a federally registered trademark owned by Lauren Smith and cannot be copied or used without the expression permission of Lauren Smith.
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All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-947206-79-3 (e-book edition)
ISBN: 978-1-947206-80-9 (print edition)
Prologue
London, December 1816
Fifteen-year-old Ella Humphrey was caught in a dream as she leaned over the wooden banister overlooking the entryway to her home. Two young men had come in through the door, shaking snow off their Hessian boots and removing their hats as they talked jovially. One was her older brother Graham, and the other…the other was a man she’d never seen before. Tall, dark haired, with a deep rich laugh that sent butterflies fluttering inside her stomach.
“It’s rather tragic, don’t you think?”
Ella jolted and turned to find her mother, Violet, the Dowager Countess of Lonsdale, behind her. She looked sad as she too looked down at the pair of young men.
“What’s tragic?” asked Ella.
“Graham’s friend, Lord Kent. His parents both died of typhus a month ago I heard, while visiting relatives in Scotland. He’s only twenty-three, far too young to be an orphan.” Violet stroked Ella’s blonde hair as Ella gazed down at the handsome man in the entrance hall below.
Kent was tall, like her two brothers, Charles and Graham, but where they had hair like burnished gold, this man’s was dark. As he turned their way, she caught a glimpse of his blue eyes. He threw back his head and laughed at something Graham had said, but his laughter didn’t reach those sorrowful eyes. She saw only pain, a pain she could tell he was trying to bury.
“Why don’t you go to the library and find a book to read this evening? I must see that Kent is settled for the night.”
Ella blushed. “He’s to stay here? With us?”
Violet nodded. “Why of course he is. Graham said he doesn’t wish to stay in his family home in the country. It must be painful to see reminders of his parents. He is to stay with us through Christmas.”
Ella remained still as her mother walked downstairs and introduced herself to Kent. Ella fisted her hands in her skirts as an odd, almost wild longing made her chest ache whenever she looked at Lord Kent.
“What are you up to, little bit?” her eldest brother, Charles, the current Earl of Lonsdale, teased her as he came up from behind. She pointed down at Kent without a word.
“Ah… Nice fellow, Kent. Shame about his parents.”
She blushed again and looked at Charles. He was so much older than her, by eleven years, that it often felt a lifetime spanned between them. Their father had died when she was young, and Ella had been raised by Charles and her mother. Her eldest brother was a surrogate father to her in many ways.
“Why the blush, little bit?” he asked, his gray eyes twinkling. “Fancy him, do you?”
Ella bit her lip, too shy to admit that Kent was fast claiming her full focus.
“Well, he’s not for you, love. You’re far too young and too sweet to marry. And any man who wants you will have to answer to me first.” Charles chuckled as though his comment was amusing, but she saw nothing funny about it. Having an overprotective pair of brothers was going to be a problem once she came out in society and began her hunt for a husband.
Ella shrugged off Charles’s hand when he tried to ruffle her curls. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, and she didn’t like it when he ruined her carefully designed hairstyles.
“Never grow up,” Charles said in a suddenly solemn tone. “I think it would break my heart.” He walked back down the hallway to his chambers, leaving her alone once again. When she sought out Lord Kent down in the hall below, he was gone. Kent, Graham, and her mother had all vanished from view.
With a sigh of disappointment, Ella wandered down into the library, where she retrieved a book on the history of Pompeii. The doomed city consumed by fire and ash always caught her attention when she needed a distraction. But she did not stay in the library to read; she instead went to the billiard room and curled up in a large leather armchair facing the fireplace.
The warmth of the fire kept the winter chill outside at bay. Charles had said that this chair had been their father’s favorite. She wished she could remember him more clearly. All she could see of Guy Humphrey was a smiling man with blond hair and gray eyes who gazed down upon her from an oil portrait in the main gallery of their home, a man who looked much like Charles, but her memories of him were hazy. Sitting here in this chair, she felt connected to him, and yet she knew how silly that sounded. When she was younger, she’d often imagined he was sitting there with her in the chair, holding her with invisible arms. She’d outgrown such imaginative thoughts now, but she couldn’t resist claiming the chair each night as she read.
She opened her book, turning to the first page, even though she had read this book twice already. A quarter of an hour later, as she nearly finished the first chapter, the door to the billiard room opened and someone entered. Ella peeped around the back of the chair to see who it was and froze when she realized it was Lord Kent. He was alone and didn’t know she was there. He walked over to the billiard table and placed his hands on the gleaming walnut frame of the table. Then his head dropped forward between his shoulders, and he let out a deep sigh. It was clear he had come here to be alone.
Ella closed her book and tucked it into the seat as she held her breath. She couldn’t escape the room without him noticing, and she could not remain here either lest she disturb his solitude. Finally, she summoned her courage and coughed politely.
Kent turned to face her, his blue eyes widening as he spotted her in the chair.
“Oh…I beg your pardon. I thought I was alone.” His face turned ruddy as he looked away. For a second Ella thought he’d been about to cry. Men didn’t cry. At least, she’d never seen her brothers cry. No, that wasn’t true. She remembered, hazily, Graham crying after their father died. That must be why Kent was upset. He had lost his parents recently.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she said, her heart racing as she left her chair and started toward the door.
“Wait. No, don’t go. Perhaps I
do need someone to be here with me.” He chuckled dryly, and the sound tugged at her heart. She had the strangest urge to throw her arms about his chest and hug him. Yet she didn’t dare, as that would be highly improper.
“We could play billiards,” she suggested. Games often distracted her when she was feeling unhappy.
“That is an excellent idea.” He smiled broadly as he stacked the ivory balls on the table. Ella retrieved two billiard cues and handed him one.
“You must be…” He tapped his chin, pretending to think before he spoke. “Ella, yes? Graham and Charles’s younger sister?”
She nodded eagerly. “I’m fifteen,” she told him, then blushed, feeling silly about saying it so proudly. Only a child went around spouting her age.
“That’s a fine age. You’re almost grown. In three years, you’ll be debuting for your first season.” Kent’s charming smile sent another flock of butterflies to her belly. Why did this man have such an effect on her? She’d met plenty of Graham’s friends before tonight, and yet she’d never felt like this.
“You’re Graham’s age, aren’t you? Twenty-three?” she asked.
“I am. Positively ancient, eh?” He waggled his eyebrows, and Ella laughed, even though it made her breathless. She coughed suddenly as she tried to catch her breath.
Kent reached out to her. “Are you all right? Your face is quite red.”
“Yes.” She panted a little. “I was born early. Mama says that I’m delicate. I’m not, though,” she insisted. She hated being called fragile or delicate. Everyone treated her like a newborn babe. But she wasn’t weak or helpless.
“Well, it sounds like you get breathless when you’re a bit excited. We must therefore endeavor to bore you to tears.” Kent was teasing her again. With a wave, he gestured to the billiard table. “Why don’t you take the first hit?”
She regained her breath and watched him set one red ball and two white balls on the table. One white ball had a black spot on it to distinguish it from the other white ball. She took careful aim at the red target. She struck the red ball, which in turn struck the other white ball, and all three balls rolled around on the green baize cover of the table wildly.
Kent whistled in appreciation as the red target ball came close to sinking into a leather pocket on the side of the table.
“Shall we play life pool?” Kent ventured, leaning his hip on the billiard table. Ella couldn’t help but admire his tall form, his lean legs outlined in buff-colored trousers, and the way his burgundy waistcoat molded to his chest. Another surge of fluttering in her stomach excited her all over again. She smoothed her hands down the pale-pink muslin of her gown and hoped she looked as pretty as the ladies he must be used to spending his time with. She had on a high-necked gown, suitable for a young woman not yet out in society, and her hair was down except for a part pulled away from her face and tied back with a dark-pink bow. Ella tried not to think how girlish she must appear to him.
“How does one play life pool?” she asked, trying to mirror his relaxed posture. It was a bit more difficult to do in a gown, and her hip slipped off the table’s lip the first time she tried.
“We each have three lives. You lose a life when the other person sinks your target ball into the pocket.” He went over to the rack and plucked a second ball, this one bright green, and set it down. “This will be my target ball. Yours shall be the red.”
“And after three lives?” she asked.
“You can purchase more lives and continue to play. That’s called starring. But you can only star once per game.”
“I think I understand.” She held out her hand. “Shall we shake upon it, Lord Kent?”
Lord Kent’s eyes glinted with mirth. “Call me Phillip, please.” He placed his hand in hers and gave it a hearty shake. She felt a little dizzy at the power of it and the warmth between their palms. His dark hair, cut a little too long, fell into his eyes as he towered over her.
She was suddenly a little afraid and incredibly excited to be playing a game of billiards alone with him. This must be how grown-up ladies felt. She had spied on Charles and Graham often enough as they had lured women away from balls thrown at the Lonsdale family estate. She knew that men and women often kissed and embraced when alone together. Being caught alone with a man could ruin a lady, she knew that as well, but Phillip was a handsome one, one of her brother’s friends. She could trust him. She was finally going to be a woman and no longer a child.
“Your turn, Phillip,” she declared imperiously. He chuckled in reply, then lined up a shot and struck her red ball, sinking it easily into the pocket. It was only then that she realized he had cheated.
“Wait a moment! I hit first before we decided upon the three lives game. My ball was already there. That was too easy for you.” She arched a brow, daring him to disagree.
Phillip shot her a teasing smile and then reached over and gave a playful tug on one of her carefully coiffed golden curls.
“All right, you caught me. Consider that point removed. Better?” His lips twisted as he fought off a smile.
“Yes. Now it is my turn.” She took aim at his green ball and crowed as she sank it into a corner pocket.
“I think Graham must’ve taught you how to play this game,” Kent muttered as he walked a circle around the table and viewed the advantages of her target ball’s position. Then he took aim at her red ball and sank it.
The next few shots kept them equally losing lives, but Kent lost first.
“Does this mean I win?” she asked, bouncing right beside him. She had never won when she played her brothers. She was convinced they cheated, but she’d never been able to prove it.
“I want to purchase another three lives,” Phillip announced. “What do you demand in payment, fair lady?”
“Payment?” She paused in her bouncing to think. She felt deliriously giddy in that moment and couldn’t seem to stop when she spoke. “A kiss.”
Kent’s eyes widened as he leaned on his cue and nearly slid off it. “A kiss?”
“Er—yes.” What had she been thinking? She had just demanded a kiss from him. If her brothers ever found out…
Kent set his cue down and came up to her until their bodies were almost touching. She could feel the heat emanating from him. It felt good in the chilly room.
“You’re a bit young for kisses,” he said quietly.
“I’m not young,” she insisted, hoping he didn’t hear the note of desperation in her tone.
“Very well. One kiss.” He cupped her face with one hand, and her body seemed to catch fire as he gazed down at her. She closed her eyes, hardly daring to breathe. Everything seemed to be spinning as she waited for the kiss that would change her life.
But when he kissed her, he pressed his lips to her forehead, not her lips. The soft heat of it sent shivers down her body, and she reached up to grasp his arms, wanting to touch him, to hold him, but he had already stepped away before she could. When she opened her eyes, he was retrieving his cue. All she had was the lingering scent of his body and the slowly fading heat from where he’d been pressed close to her.
“Your turn, I believe,” he said politely.
There was a slight hesitation, a distance that he put between them now that made her eyes sting. He hadn’t wanted to kiss her—he hadn’t even seemed to enjoy it. The womanly confidence she’d felt moments ago had been shattered. A cold knot grew in her stomach, and she could feel the tears coming. But the last thing she wanted was to cry in front of him.
“I’m sorry, I don’t wish to play anymore.” She dropped her cue and fled the billiard room, not stopping until she reached her bedroom. After slamming the door, she threw herself onto her bed and wept, feeling more and more like the child she realized she still was. A handsome, worldly man like Lord Kent would never see her as a woman. And knowing that broke her heart.
Phillip Wilkes stared at the open doorway where Ella had fled. He quietly cursed as he bent to retrieve her cue and put away the balls. It seemed
he had handled that badly. However, he wasn’t sure what the right way to handle that would have been. Coming here for a few days was supposed to relieve him, not cause more stress. He’d had plenty to deal with in the last month since his family solicitor had helped him bury his parents and see to his family’s holdings. He still wasn’t able to accept that he was now the Earl of Kent. That had been and always would be his father. Yet the title had been thrust upon Phillip.
He’d spent enough time grieving the loss of his parents. He wanted only joy, only happiness right now, yet he’d just made a young lady cry…because he’d had to be honorable. He admitted, at least in his own head, that the little creature was tempting. All that dark-gold hair spilling down her shoulders, and the way her eyes were slightly tilted at the corners gave her an inquisitive, exotic look. She had captured his attention. More than that, she’d made him forget the world for just a short while. But she was a girl, just fifteen. A lifetime separated them, and while he certainly would have loved to steal a kiss, she was far too young.
“Ah, Kent, there you are.” Graham stood in the doorway of the billiard room. “I thought perhaps you’d gotten lost and somehow ended up in Soho.”
Kent laughed, but there was no mirth in his voice. Coming here with Graham had been enjoyable enough, but every now and then his sorrow was too much, and he needed a moment alone to bury his grief again.
It was why he had fled to this room, but he hadn’t expected to run into Graham’s little sister. She’d stood there with those big blue-gray eyes, like winter storm clouds. So young, sweet, and innocent.
But he wasn’t a villain. He wouldn’t kiss her, not in the way her eyes had begged. But perhaps someday, when she was out in society, when she was older. God help him then, because he had a feeling he would be in trouble if he ever had to be alone with her again.
