Intentions of the Earl (Scandalous Sisters, Book 1)

by Rose Gordon

  Excitement is hard to contain, and it spreads so easily, soon Brooke found herself smiling right along with Mama. “Thank you, Mama.”

  “You’re welcome.” Mama shoved the gown in Brooke’s hands. “Now go, he’ll be here before you know it.”

  Walking down the hall to her room, Brooke stared at the elegant red gown she carried. A small smile came over her lips and she murmured, “It may not steal his heart, but it will steal his undivided attention.”

  ***

  Andrew entered the drawing room, his eyes landing on where Mrs. Banks, Miss Liberty, and the middle Miss Banks were seated. Where was Brooke?

  The ladies stood and after bowing, watching their curtsies, then being indirectly informed of Brooke’s middle sister’s name by Mrs. Banks who complimented her dress, Andrew took a seat on the settee and wondered again where Brooke was. Knowing it would be impolite to ask without at least acting interested in them first, he said, “I trust you have all had a chance to visit the excellent museums London has to offer?”

  “Museums?” Liberty asked sheepishly, looking at him under her lashes. “Well no, I don’t believe we’ve been yet.”

  “Oh, Liberty, don’t play coy with the man,” Madison broke in, ending Liberty’s awkward flirting. “We all know that you have no interest in museums, so stop hedging for an invitation. Your interest in a museum is about as great as my interest in being danced with attendance from gentlemen, and we all know that’s nonexistent.”

  Andrew looked to Madison and ignored Mrs. Banks reprimanding her for her vulgar comment. He was too caught up on the idea that this young lady had no interest in gentlemen. Didn’t all young ladies have an interest in men? If she didn’t, did that mean she was interested in ladies? He knew that some gentlemen were only interested in other gentlemen, but he’d never met, or even heard of, a lady who had those interests. If that were true, he could use that information to send the Bankses away instead of compromising Brooke. Seizing the opportunity, he asked, “What do you mean you have no interest in gentlemen, Miss Banks? I was under the impression all young ladies wanted to marry and have children. Does that not interest you?”

  Her face took on an even more distant look, if that was possible, and she shrugged. “That is the dream of most, but not all.”

  Andrew nodded. That wasn’t enough of a confirmation for him to start rumors to the effect that she had “different” interests. He needed hard proof, such as a verbal or physical confirmation. Otherwise it was too risky to try to expose this. She could turn up at a ball the next night and dance with every gentleman in attendance. That alone would disprove any rumors. Besides, he’d never heard of such interests before, so the believability was already fragile. Best to leave that cat securely in its bag.

  Trying to take on an air of the comforting older brother, Andrew said, “Well, one day you might change your mind. I am sure there are many good men out there who would love to have you as their wife.”

  Mrs. Banks tittered and cooed.

  Liberty snorted.

  Madison shrugged.

  Andrew cleared his throat. “I’m very flattered you invited me to join you for dinner tonight,” he said, trying to get a conversation going. He hated silence.

  “We are flattered you agreed,” said Mrs. Banks.

  “As if he had a choice,” Madison muttered under her breath.

  With a sharp look from her mother, she murmured an awkward apology and fidgeted with the sleeve of her orange gown.

  Andrew didn’t much care for the color orange, but on her it seemed to fit. He couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was because it was a pale orange and not a bright, vibrant, or burnt orange, but pale, almost like a peach. It suited her well.

  Feeling as if he needed to say something, because once again the silence was becoming unbearable with everyone looking at each other and nodding, Andrew asked of no one in particular, “If men and museums are not of interest, what does hold your attention?”

  “Reading,” Liberty answered quietly.

  “Ah, reading,” Andrew repeated, trying to think of something to ask to get her, or anyone for that matter, to talk. “What kind of books?”

  “Etiquette,” Madison answered bluntly for her sister.

  Andrew thought she was probably being brutally honest with her answer, but how could he comment? He couldn’t. Instead, he just looked around the room, hoping for something to end their torture.

  But no redemption came.

  He sat with three of the four Banks women for a quarter of an hour, staring, nodding, and murmuring when necessary. All the while he wondered where in the world Brooke was. He hoped she would be there soon. It was not his plan to spend the evening with her sisters and mother. He had come specifically to be with her.

  Finally, Andrew decided he’d waited long enough. “Pardon, but are we to be joined by anyone else for dinner?” There, he’d asked, and not in a way sounding too eager or impatient—or so he hoped.

  Mrs. Banks was too clever not to see what he really meant. “Yes, my husband will join us soon. He just returned from visiting a country vicar and he will be down shortly.” She flashed him a knowing smile. “But I get the feeling that is not who you were asking about. Was it?” Not really making him answer her and embarrass himself, she continued, “Brooke will be down any minute. I thought she would have been down by now, but she might have had trouble with her gown.”

  “Gown trouble?” Andrew asked dubiously. “Surely her maid can take care of that quickly.” When the middle Miss Banks laughed outright, Liberty gaped at him, and Mrs. Banks turned red, his brows snapped together. “She doesn’t have a maid, does she?”

  “No, my lord, she does not,” Mrs. Bank replied without a hint of emotion. “In America, people do not usually have a personal servant. Not only does society not dictate it, but the ladies there are usually a lot more independent.”

  Andrew took in her statement. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but didn’t want to leave them feeling embarrassed or insulted. Finally, he said quietly, “I can tell that your girls are very independent.” He personally had only a scant number of servants, all of whom did multiple jobs, but none acting as his valet—he’d always thought it was uncomfortable having someone else dress and groom him.

  Again they sat in uncomfortable silence, continuing exactly where they’d left off: staring, nodding, and all waiting for an outside source to put them all out of their misery.

  Finally, their redemption came in the form of one Mr. John Banks.

  Andrew had never seen John Banks before, but he recognized him instantly when he walked in. He looked exactly like his brother, Baron Watson. Both were slightly taller than average and had pale skin, light blue eyes, and blond hair. While Brooke resembled her mother with her petite frame and dark hair and eyes, Madison undeniably favored their father. Liberty was more of a mix of the two.

  As Mr. Banks strolled in, he looked fondly at his wife and daughters before noticing there was a guest in the room. He quickly bowed to Andrew then looked to his wife to introduce them.

  “John, this is Andrew Black, Lord Townson, and this,” she said, gesturing to her husband, “is John Banks, my husband.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Andrew said, with a slight smile.

  “It is my pleasure, my lord. I wasn’t aware we were entertaining such lofty guests. To what do we owe this pleasure?” Mr. Banks asked with a hint of disbelief.

  Before Andrew could answer the question that was clearly leveled at him, Mrs. Banks jumped in. “He was invited.”

  Mr. Banks’ gaze shot to his wife and his clear blue eyes asked her velvet brown eyes an unspoken question: why?

  “I personally invited him to dine with us. He's courting Brooke,” she said, beaming brighter than a five-hundred-candle chandelier. Then, because she could definitely be termed a matchmaking mama and had the subtly of a sledgehammer, she squeaked, “I believe he has a tendre for her. Oh, isn’t it exciting!”

  Mr. B
anks, probably used to his wife’s theatrics, just nodded.

  Andrew, unused to the same theatrics, could feel heat creep up his neck and face. Now, everyone thought he was besotted with a girl he barely knew. What could he do? Deny it? No, because that could put a swift end to his visits with Brooke and make his mission difficult, if not impossible. Anyway, he liked seeing her. He was not completely sure why, but he enjoyed her company all the same.

  Following a mental shrug, Andrew went for it. With his best smile, he looked straight at Mr. Banks and said, “I do enjoy your daughter’s company.” That was true enough. “I believe she has the same interest in me. So naturally, if you’re agreeable, I should like to court her.”

  “This is highly unusual, young man. You do realize that, do you not?” Mr. Banks asked.

  Andrew nodded. He knew he’d misstepped. He may not have been able to help it, but he did know what he’d done and sorely hoped the Banks family was not so high in the instep that Mr. Banks would deny his request.

  “Yes, sir. I do know that this courtship has taken place in an unusual manner, and I do apologize for it. I give my word that I will conduct it from this point on with more attention to what is proper and the respect due you and your daughter, sir.” Stop talking, Andrew. If you keep giving your word to conduct things properly, it will be even more difficult when it comes time to ruin the chit.

  “I am pleased to hear it, my lord,” John said, nodding with approval.

  They resumed their seats to wait for the missing Banks daughter to make an appearance, and Andrew glimpsed Liberty looking at him with a hint of a smile. He knew what she was thinking without even asking. Once again, he had breached society’s mandates by not asking her father for approval to court Brooke. There was a lot Miss Liberty was going to need to learn. Not everything follows propriety. But that wouldn’t matter to her in a few months when she’d be on her way back to America. Andrew allowed himself a little smile. In a month, hopefully no more, the Banks family would be on a ship back to New York, and he’d be out of London at his country estate turning a profit. It was a good thing he’d be turning a profit, because he was about to enter self-imposed exile.

  Andrew was entertaining further thoughts about what his life would be like in a month or so when Brooke made her entrance. When he saw her, she rendered him breathless—literally.

  Chapter 7

  Brooke’s entrance to the drawing room was deliberately slow. She was making sure to attract as much attention as she could, and it worked. Andrew had thought her younger sister was the most beautiful of the three, but just now, his opinion had forever been altered. From now on, Brooke would hold that title in his mind.

  Belatedly, Andrew stood up, murmured an apology for not rising sooner. He took a deep breath, feeling embarrassed he’d made such a fool of himself by gasping and forgetting to stand up when she walked in. Nothing could be done about it now. He would just have to make the best of the situation. He was not the only one so struck by Brooke’s beauty that manners were forgotten. Liberty not only did not say anything about his mistake, but her face didn’t indicate she even registered it.

  Andrew truly did feel remiss about not standing up when Brooke made her grand entrance. He felt as uncomfortable about it as if he were at a wedding and did not stand up when the bride walked down the aisle. He shrugged off the feeling, and continued to look her up and down. She was breathtaking, and he should know.

  She had on a beautiful gown made of different swaths of red material. Some were silk, some velvet. The bodice swooped moderately to give everyone in the room a modest glance at the delicate slope of the top of her breasts. It was obvious the gown had originally been made for someone a few inches shorter because when she walked he’d been able to see more of her cream colored slipper than she probably intended to show. There also appeared to be something a bit off around the bodice of the gown. What exactly it was he couldn’t place, but it didn’t matter anyway. She shined like one very well-polished ruby and caused him to strain to think of anything coherent to say.

  He swallowed a lump in his throat and waited for someone else to break the silence, hopefully it would be something that would pull him out of this fog.

  Brooke appeared proud of the reaction she had created. “I spoke to Turner before coming in. He said dinner was ready.” She smiled.

  The group nodded their understanding, not bothering to notice or care that their butler was not going to come and get them as was customary. The group formed a line and walked down the hall toward the dining room.

  Mr. and Mrs. Banks led the group, and when Mr. Banks tried to make a turn for the dining room, his wife stopped. “I thought we’d eat in the parlor tonight. It’s more agreeable for entertaining guests,” she murmured.

  Mr. Banks gave a nod of agreement about the new dining location and smiled. “Though the parlor is more agreeable, I do wonder if it would be easier on everyone’s digestive system to eat outside.”

  Mrs. Banks gave a little smile at her husband’s remark.

  At the back of the line, Brooke lightly rested her hand on to Andrew’s arm while he brought his free hand up to cover hers and give it a light squeeze. He enjoyed that she became a little less graceful in her step when he did so. Apparently she wasn’t as immune to him as she would have him believe.

  When they finally made it to the parlor, Andrew abruptly stopped and blinked. Never in his life had he seen such a small dining table. It could not have been more than six, maybe seven, feet long and it had only six chairs. Even when eating by himself, he had never eaten at such a small table. How were they all going to fit? There wasn’t a need for more chairs precisely—there were six chairs and six people—but they were so close together. There was no way it was going to be a comfortable meal with everyone practically touching each other. Or would it? A sly smile took his lips.

  Brooke stumbled slightly because of Andrew’s sudden stop. She cocked her head and looked from him to the dining table, as if she were trying to understand what had brought on his reaction. She must have realized that it was the size of the table and how closely they were to be seated because she said, “Unless you want to look at mounted squirrels, opossums, and other wild game while eating, you’ll have to get past your discomfort.”

  Andrew turned to look at Brooke and arched one eyebrow in hopes that she would elaborate as to why he’d have to look at such images while eating if he did not get past his discomfort, as she put it.

  But before Brooke could explain, her mother started talking. “Isn’t our dining room quaint?” Mrs. Banks studied his face, almost as if she were trying to read his response rather than listen to it.

  “Quite,” he replied, forgetting about the animals and wondering how everyone was going to gather around this little table. For pity’s sake, the seats were so close together, it looked as though all the silverware was running together. How was one to be able to tell which pieces were theirs and which belonged to their neighbor?

  Mrs. Banks gave a hesitant smile. “I know this may seem a little irregular for you. However, we are a cozy little family, and we enjoy eating close together when possible. It makes it easier to all engage in the same conversation,” she said with what was clearly a large dose of false bravado.

  Silently everybody took their seats. Mr. Banks was at one end of the table with Mrs. Banks seated at the other end. Brooke’s sisters sat together on one side of the table, and he and Brooke occupied the other.

  Once they were all seated, and had said grace of course, they began to eat one of the most delicious and filling meals Andrew had eaten in more than a year. Being impoverished had changed his eating habits considerably, but for tonight, he was going to eat as if he were one of the richest in the land.

  “How was your visit to the country today, my dear?” Mrs. Banks asked her husband.

  Mr. Banks answered his wife by telling her all about his visit and about how the two of them had exchanged sermon ideas.

  The conversati
on turned to the errands that they would run on the morrow. Andrew just nodded occasionally and said yes or no here and there. He was more interested in thinking of how fetching Brooke looked in that gown than in what they were talking about.

  “Why do we all need to go to the modiste at the same time?” Liberty asked after she wiped her face with her napkin. “They only allow us one seamstress. It becomes dreadfully boring waiting for my turn.”

  “You could bring something to work on while waiting,” Mr. Banks suggested.

  “Perhaps a book,” Madison said helpfully.

  Liberty ignored her suggestion and looked only at her father. “What do we need new gowns for anyway? Are we not planning to go home soon?”

  “What else would you have to do with your day if not spending it with us down on Bond Street?” Brooke asked.

  “Girls,” their father broke in, “there is no need to quarrel. Liberty, you will join your mother, Brooke, and Madison tomorrow to have new gowns made. You will need them for balls, soirees, and such. I should think we will be here at least another six months.”

  The females at the table went silent. Andrew assumed they were thinking of what Mr. Banks had said about staying for at least six more months and all the events they would likely attend in that time.

  A moment or two later, Andrew turned to Brooke who was currently more interested in her dinner than the conversation, and quietly asked, “I see you wore red tonight. Was there any special reason?”

  Brooke blushed slightly before she smiled at him. “It’s just a coincidence, nothing more.”

  “Hmm. A coincidence, you say?” he said, his eyebrow raising and his face full of amusement. “I don’t think so. I think you wore that gown knowing I favor the color red and you wanted to get my attention. I must say, well done, you certainly got my full attention.”

  “I know,” Brooke replied smugly.

  Andrew chuckled. She probably did know the effect she had on men, specifically when she wore that gown. He leaned over and looked at the hem more closely, then said loud enough for the whole table to hear, “Your gown is very lovely, Miss Banks. I particularly like the roses along the hem.” When she glared daggers at him, he smiled. “Miss Banks, I am a bit of a numbskull when it comes to such things as flowers and their significance. Would you please inform me of the significance of the different color roses?”