How Not to Marry an Earl

by Christine Merrill

  ‘Your dog?’ he said, surprised.

  She hesitated. ‘The Earl’s dog, then. But since he is not here and I am a member of his family, Pepper’s responsibility and affection have transferred to me.’

  He opened his mouth, ready to argue that the owner of the ungrateful cur was right in front of her, should the animal choose to acknowledge him. But since Pepper was incapable of loyalty, obedience, or any other canine virtue, it refused to claim him.

  Then he remembered that if his goal had been to slip on to the Comstock property and off again, unnoticed, he should not announce himself to the first person he saw, especially if he had been fortunate enough to meet a family member who did not immediately recognise him.

  She was staring at him with narrowed eyes. ‘And now that I can look at you, it is apparent that you are not the common tramp I was fearing.’ She tipped her head. ‘By your accent, you are American. I’d think you were a member of the Earl’s party, but I was told he travelled alone.’

  ‘We came on separate ships,’ he said, falling easily into the first lie that came to mind. ‘I was to arrive first, but the seas were rough.’

  ‘You are the auditor, then,’ she said. There was no triumph in her voice, just a flat acknowledgement of the assumed fact.

  He nodded, relieved to have his work done for him. But the auditor from America needed a name. ‘Potts,’ he said, automatically. He must look like the name suited him, for Greg Drake had mistaken him for just such a fellow when they’d met. ‘Augustus Potts, at your service, ma’am.’ He bowed to hide his wince at the Christian name that had popped into his head. Hopefully, the lie would not be needed for long. Who in their right mind would want to spend any length of time as Augie Potts?

  ‘Mr Potts,’ the girl replied, in the tone of one used to ordering servants about.

  ‘And who do I have the honour of addressing?’ he said, already suspecting that he knew the truth.

  ‘Miss Charity Strickland. Your employer’s distant cousin.’

  He nodded in acknowledgement. He’d met her sister Hope, already. With some effort, he could see a resemblance. They shared the same wide brow and pointed chin.

  But where Hope was uncommonly pretty, Charity was not currently so blessed. There was something too grave in her expression and the look in her eye was too discerning for one so young. Though she was not a lovely girl, he suspected she would age into her beauty and become a rather handsome woman.

  ‘Were you sent to inventory the main house?’ she said, in a matter-of-fact way to remind him that it was not his job to be standing here, staring at her.

  ‘And the dower house, as well,’ he said.

  ‘There is nothing of value here.’

  In a pig’s eye. Her response had been a trifle too quick and too specific for his taste. She had come here to retrieve something or to hide it. And people did not normally take the time to hide things that were worthless. ‘If the house is empty, it makes me wonder what you were doing here, halfway up the chimney.’ He gave her a subservient smile. ‘Is there something I can assist you with?’

  ‘Birds have been coming down it and into the house. I was attempting to close the flue.’

  ‘I see.’ That was an even bigger lie than her last words had been. But if he was claiming to be Augie Potts, he could hardly point fingers. Instead, he stripped off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. ‘Give me the poker, then. My arms are longer.’

  ‘That is all right,’ she said hurriedly.

  She was far too eager to handle the matter herself. ‘Then, at least let me go up to the house and find a footman. A member of the family should not be doing servants’ work.’

  ‘That will not be necessary,’ she said, not bothering to try to charm him with a smile. ‘I think I have managed the matter well enough.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘I did not interrupt you before you could complete what you were attempting?’

  Her lips tightened ever so slightly with annoyance. ‘Certainly not.’

  ‘Then, allow me to give you a ride back to the main house.’

  ‘That will not be necessary, either,’ she snapped.

  ‘But we are both going the same way,’ he reminded her. ‘Since I have never been to the manor, I would appreciate a guide.’

  ‘It is not possible to get lost,’ she said. ‘The house is barely a mile away and you are on the drive already.’

  She was trying to get rid of him. He had no reason to care why, for he was as eager to be gone as she was to have him so. Yet for some reason, he could not resist annoying her. ‘That is likely true. But it would be helpful if you could introduce me to the rest of the staff.’ He glanced out the window. ‘And a storm seems to be gathering. It has grown darker as we have been talking. I would not want to leave you here in the rain.’

  ‘I can wait inside until it passes,’ she countered.

  So she had not finished what she had come to do. Since there was nothing in her hands, it seemed likely that she was searching for something rather than secreting something she’d brought with her. In either case, there must be some hidey-hole in the bricks worth investigating, once he had got her safely out of the way.

  He smiled at her. ‘I am sure the Earl would have my head if I left you here in the rain.’ Then he stepped to the room’s doorway and waited for her exasperated huff of defeat.

  It did not come. Other than a slight narrowing of her eyes, she gave no sign that his attempts to thwart her were annoying her. ‘If the Earl wishes it, then very well, Mr Potts. I would never go against his wishes.’

  Then she walked past him towards the front door, the terrier following obediently at her heels.

  Chapter Two

  Charity Strickland’s day was not going to plan.

  It had been bad enough to climb into the chimney and realise the niche she was looking for was just out of reach. To be discovered doing so had been even worse. Mr Potts was proving to be annoyingly clever, giving no indication that he believed her story about an open flue. He had pretended to, of course. But she suspected he was only toying with her, hoping to worm some piece of information out of her that could be reported to his master.

  So far, it appeared that the new Earl meant to do just as she hoped he would, remain in London to perform his duties in Parliament. Should he suddenly decide to take an interest in her welfare, there was no telling what he might consider suitable for her future.

  Whatever it was, she doubted it had anything to do with what she preferred for herself. As the youngest of three sisters, she was fed up with being dictated to by people who assumed they knew what was best for her. It had taken months to get the rest of the family out of the way so she might have peace to work. The last thing she needed was a stranger asserting his God-given right to control her because his fortunate birth had made him head of the family.

  The season did not end until July and it was barely March. It would take only a few more weeks to accomplish her own plan. If the new Earl of Comstock kept to the business of governing, as he ought to do, she’d be gone long before he arrived, with enough money to set herself up for life in a manner that suited her.

  But Mr Potts might prove to be just as annoying as the man who’d hired him. Though he had no right to order her around, so far he was proving to be a first-rate sneak. One had only to look at the dog’s reaction to him to know that he was not to be trusted. Pepper’s hackles had been raised from the moment that the auditor arrived. As they left the dower house, he was dancing along between them, biting at the man’s boot heels as if hoping to scare him away.

  To Mr Pott’s credit, he had not given in to impulse and kicked at the dog. Perhaps he was not irredeemable. Or perhaps he had better sense than to abuse a pet belonging to a peer in full sight of a member of the family.

  When they arrived at his horse, he stepped clear of the little black and w
hite dog and mounted, offering a hand to her to help her into the saddle in front of him.

  She smiled at him, wishing for not the first time that she’d inherited any of her sisters’ natural charm. ‘I could not possibly go without Pepper. I would not want him to become lost.’

  Potts looked down at the little dog with obvious disgust. ‘In my experience, animals like this are surprisingly hard to lose.’

  ‘But what if this time is the exception? He might be set upon by some wild beast.’

  ‘You have wolves roaming so close to the house?’

  ‘No,’ she admitted.

  ‘And I am told there are no bears left in England. What else can there be?’

  ‘A hawk. Or perhaps an eagle.’

  He sighed. ‘Next you will be telling me England has daylight owls.’ He held out a hand. ‘Give him to me.’

  She scooped the dog up and offered him.

  Potts took him by the scruff of the neck, nimbly dodging the snapping jaws and dropped him into the leather bag at the side of his saddle. The dog disappeared for a moment, like a swimmer beneath a wave. Then his head poked out from under the flap, offering something that looked rather like a canine grin.

  ‘There.’ Potts held out a hand. ‘And now, you.’

  Gingerly, she offered her own hand and he pulled her up. He seemed to exert no strength at all, settling her on to the saddle in front of him, to sit on one hip. Then his arms took the reins on either side of her waist, holding her in place as they set off.

  Though he showed no signs of noticing it, it was a surprisingly intimate arrangement. Perhaps such behaviour was common in America. Or perhaps she was not pretty enough to move him. He handled the horse as easily as if he was riding alone.

  But for her, it was strangely disquieting. Though she did not normally dwell on the appearances of the men around her, it was hard not to notice this one. The arms that wrapped around her were long, as were the legs that brushed against her skirts. He must be well over six feet. He was not precisely gaunt, but there was an angular quality about his frame that seemed to carry to his face. The planes of his cheeks were sharp, as was the line of his jaw. His pale skin might have given another man an aristocratic air, but on him it seemed more scholarly than aloof, as if his studies kept him from the sun.

  This attracted her more than his fine features or the shock of dark hair shading his brow. He looked like someone who might be content to hole up in a library. Though the muscles she could feel in the limbs surrounding her did not come from inactivity, he looked like a kindred spirit.

  But it did not really matter what he looked like, or how he had come to be so. Men, especially ones that looked the way this one did, never gave such scrutiny to her. She turned her head and looked resolutely forward at the house they were approaching.

  ‘Comstock Manor,’ he said, stating the obvious. But there was a tone beneath the words that sounded not so much impressed as stunned.

  ‘You did not think it would be so large,’ she said.

  ‘I was told. But I could not believe it was true.’

  ‘It represents everything that is wrong with the family,’ she said. ‘Something that started as a good idea but grew out of hand until it was no longer possible to manage or afford.’

  ‘No wonder there has been trouble finding someone to record the contents. Who would want to take on such a job?’

  ‘We have lost more valuables than most people own,’ she said, speaking quite close to the truth. ‘Though most of them are not actually gone. They are just sitting in one of the forty rooms, waiting to be rediscovered.’

  She felt something quicken in him at the mention of this surplus of material wealth, a faint, covetous quivering of his nerves. Then he relaxed again, as if afraid that she might have noticed his interest. ‘As a member of the family, I would think that you would be in a position to know where some of those things are.’

  ‘I might be,’ she said, turning back to blink at him in what she hoped was an innocent way. ‘The Earl will never be able to have an accurate accounting of them if I do not help. And I doubt you will be able to learn the lay of the place in whatever time he has allotted for the job.’

  The horse pulled up short.

  ‘How would I...? I mean, you are right that there is no way for me to do this job without help. But the Earl would not know one way or the other, if I got it wrong, would he?’

  He had not even crossed the threshold and he was already giving up. Or did he mean to collect full pay for a slapdash job? His reasons did not matter. Carelessness, laziness or moral flexibility would all suit equally well as a reason for his departure.

  ‘He will not know if the inventory is not complete unless we tell him,’ she said, choosing her words carefully. ‘But I have no intention of spreading tales to a man I never met, just because other men I have never met decided he is the heir.’

  ‘I see,’ he said, in an equally careful tone.

  ‘I am sure he is depending on your friendship for an accurate accounting,’ she added.

  ‘My friendship.’ Mr Potts laughed. ‘I can tell you in all truth that six months ago, I knew nothing of Comstock, his title or his property.’

  This was even more interesting. If the Earl had hired a stranger to see to his interests abroad, he was likely to get the results he deserved. ‘The property is not technically his,’ she reminded him. ‘It belongs to the Crown.’ She smiled again. ‘But, as an American, you have no real loyalty there, do you?’ She had opened the door to conspiracy. Now they would see if Mr Potts walked through it.

  ‘Loyalty?’ He laughed again. ‘The whole point of my country was to escape this one. And yet, here I am, surrounded by riches that do not belong to the Earl and debts that do.’

  ‘That is a pity,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘In my opinion, the task set for you is a hopeless one. If you chose to resign from it, you could be long gone from here before anyone noticed your absence.’

  Behind her, he started in surprise. ‘Miss Strickland, I was thinking just such a thing when you arrived.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘But then, I would not be paid, would I? And an urgent need for funds was the only reason I even considered the job.’

  Then she made the most daring move at all. ‘The house is not lacking for ornaments. If you chose to take something to compensate for your lost time, who would know?’

  There was a long pause as he considered her words. But just as she was sure he would succumb, he baulked. ‘Stealing from the Earl would be wrong. Both a breach of the Commandments and the law.’

  ‘Of course,’ she added hurriedly, annoyed. If morality was seriously a concern, she might never get rid of the man. The next temptation would have to be far more subtle. ‘But there is no need for us to be discussing such things in the middle of the drive. As you said before, a storm is approaching. Come into the house and we will get you settled.’

  And then she could go to work on him. Once he had seen the house and his place in it, he might be gone by morning.

  * * *

  When his ancestral home had been described to him, Miles had got a vague impression of a large but dilapidated manor in the country. But there was no way he could have imagined the thing that stood before him now. It appeared to be two or three large houses built cheek by jowl, as if the owners could not quite decide what they’d wanted and simply kept building on to it until the money had run out.

  Having seen the accounts, that seemed to be exactly what had happened. When he’d set out from America, he’d assumed that all English lords had to be rich. But his family had run through their money generations ago. The rents from the tenants barely kept pace with the cost of maintaining the property. All that was left beyond them was the house and its contents. And the most valuable items were things he was not supposed to sell. He was expected to hold them in trust for future generations that might
never be born if he could not manage to settle his business now.

  But the caution to respect the entail had not impressed his ancestors. After greeting him on his arrival, the widow of his predecessor had barely taken a breath before announcing that the diamonds in the Comstock family jewels had been replaced with paste long before she became Countess. The Earls and Countesses of Comstock had been telling lies about their value for so long that it might as well be declared a family tradition.

  On hearing this, he had assumed that there was nothing left of value. But though the collection of silver-framed miniatures on the hall table was not enough to save an earl from a life of ruin, the humble Miles Strickland could sell a sack full of them and have enough to live modestly for a good long time.

  ‘What do you think of it?’ He had almost forgotten Cousin Charity, who had led him in through the front doors and introduced him to the butler, Chilson, who had signalled for a footman to take his valise and another to remove the snapping dog from the saddle bag.

  ‘I do not know where to begin,’ he said, peering down the hall at what seemed to be an endless line of doorways, then staring back at Charity.

  ‘Do not worry. I will help you.’ There was no flirtation in the smile she gave him, only a sly twinkle in her eye that made him think any aid he received would benefit her more than him. Her companionable self-interest was an improvement on recent interactions with the fair sex.

  When they realised he had a title, the women of London were friendly to the point of predation. He could hardly blame them for it, since they took their cues from the mamas and papas who were practically throwing their daughters into his path. Even the damned Prince who was currently running the country said that an earl without a countess was not doing his duty. He was supposed to marry, soon and well, for the sake of the title’s succession.

  Apparently, he was to be bred like livestock. If the activity hadn’t involved marriage, he would have been all for it. But since a legitimate child was required, it took much of the fun out of his newfound popularity.