Enticing the Earl

by Christie Kelley

  “Lambert is dead. Suicide.”

  She held on to one of the balls, squeezing so tight her knuckles turned white. “So we have no way of knowing if he was Davies.”

  Simon lined up his next shot and hammered the stick against the white ball sending a blue one into a pocket. “Actually, we do. Lambert was Davies.”

  Mia tossed the ball on the table. “But isn’t that good news, Simon?”

  “No. All Lambert said was someone hired him. But he refused to confess the name of the man. He killed himself while in bed with his mistress.” Every time he thought about this mess, his anger inched higher.

  “Why did he kill himself then?”

  “I don’t know, Mia. Maybe he felt the man who hired him would kill him if he gave up his name.” He turned away from her and the table. He longed to strike out at something. Hurl a glass across the room. Anything to ease this frustration edging toward the pinnacle.

  He wanted to find the bastard who hired Lambert and squeeze the life out of him. His nerves were drawn tightly within him. He needed relief.

  Mia came up and hugged him tightly. His body reacted immediately. Perhaps there was one way to ease his frustration.

  He wanted her now against the table and no one would stop him. He rubbed his thumb against her breast until she giggled and looked up at him. Her mouth gaped, allowing him to take full advantage when he kissed her. Their tongues waged a war with each other. Her passionate response only sent him closer to a precipice.

  He turned her around to face the billiard table.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in a bemused tone.

  “Releasing my frustrations,” he whispered as he lifted her skirts.

  “Oh.”

  He kissed the nape of her neck until she moaned. The redolence of her jasmine perfume seemed to urge him on. He wanted to sink into her silky depths and forget about everything that had happened tonight. Tracing a finger up her bottom, she trembled. He unbuttoned his breeches and rubbed his cock against her derrière.

  “Simon, anyone might walk in on us.”

  “Dinner takes hours and this won’t.”

  After separating the slit in her drawers, he dipped a finger between her folds. “And based on how wet you feel right now, I don’t think you will mind this being quick.”

  His finger delved deep into her womanhood until she gasped with pleasure. Feeling how hot and ready she was for him, he removed his finger and pressed his hard cock into her. Filling her completely, he groaned from the sensations growing within him.

  “God,” she whispered. “Why haven’t we tried this position before now?”

  He thrust into her and out, as his pleasure slowly overrode the irritation he’d felt earlier. He didn’t care if this was rougher than she was used to. Hearing her moans of pleasure urged him to go faster. Now the only thing that mattered was getting her to come so he could follow her over the edge of ecstasy.

  Her body quaked as pleasure rode her roughly to the summit. “Simon,” she called out as her inner muscles clenched and quivered against him, sending him over the edge too.

  “Mia,” he cried and forcefully thrust once more to the hilt.

  Her spasms continued to rack her body as he spilled his seed into her. He rested his head on hers until his breathing slowly returned to normal. After a few minutes, he pushed away, drew her skirts back down over her, and then buttoned his breeches.

  She turned slowly around with a frown. “What exactly was that about?”

  “It’s been a few days,” he muttered the excuse.

  “Indeed. So you decide you will have me here, in the billiard room where anyone could walk in on us, in the middle of your sister’s country party. Have you lost your mind?” She emphasized her ire with her hands on her hips.

  “Yes, I’ve lost my mind. Ever since that first time in my study, you’re all I think about, Mia. I want you constantly and tonight my frustration gave out so I took you a little rougher than usual. I must apologize for that.”

  Mia tilted her head. “I didn’t say it wasn’t enjoyable. I was only asking why now at this moment.”

  Simon’s lips twitched. “I will apologize for that. It was all the pent-up anger and irritation from hearing about Lambert. I wanted the man who hurt you brought to justice.”

  Mia shrugged. “I believe shooting yourself in the head is a damn good punishment. Probably better than he deserved.”

  “You don’t feel sorry for him?”

  “No, the poor mistress who had to get the bastard’s blood off her coverlet has my sympathy, not him.”

  Simon couldn’t help but laugh. “You are a little heartless, my dear.”

  “Perhaps I am,” she admitted. “I normally hate to see anyone or anything suffer. But I would have made an exception for him.” She closed the distance between them and traced the design of his lapels. “I hated him for what he did to me, Simon. I have never felt such complete dislike for another human being.”

  “That is understandable, Mia.”

  “Yes, but I wished him dead, Simon... and now he is,” she whispered.

  “By his own doing,” Simon said in a soft tone. “You have nothing to feel guilty over.”

  She nodded slowly. “I suppose you’re right. So why do I feel like this was my fault?”

  “I cannot answer that, my dear. Perhaps if we ever find the person who paid Lambert, we might discover the truth.”

  “I’m beginning to think we never will,” Mia whispered so softly Simon almost didn’t hear.

  Chapter 22

  The next day, the first of the guests arrived. Mia began to notice that Simon wanted to spend more time away from the house. He insisted they ride for an hour to a small lake and have a picnic luncheon. Later, he thought a walk would relieve the soreness she might feel from the ride. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she wasn’t the least bit sore.

  Every time the front door opened, she felt him stiffen. The poor man seemed so distressed by the commotion she just wanted to hide in the bedchamber with him all day and night. Of course, then she wouldn’t have to meet all the beautiful people of the ton and feel terribly out of place.

  Even with all their attempts to be away from the house, there was one time they both had no choice in the matter: dinner. There were an additional twenty people tonight. Caroline had told her they were mostly close friends and distant relatives, but that didn’t put Mia at ease.

  Her fingers twitched against the emerald silk gown as she waited for Simon to dress for dinner. She had never worn silk until her wedding, yet in only ten days, she was coming to love the feel of it against her skin. It felt decadent and slightly erotic when it slid across her like a lover’s caress.

  “We should really go downstairs now, Simon,” she called out from the bedchamber salon.

  He opened the door to the bedroom. “I suppose we should.”

  Mia suddenly had no desire to leave this room. The man looked incredibly handsome in his black jacket, silver waistcoat, and snowy white cravat. She wanted to strip each piece of clothing off him until she was down to hard muscle and warm skin.

  “If you keep looking at me that way, we will not leave this room,” Simon warned with a slight grin.

  “Would that be so terrible?”

  “Caroline might think so. She would be dreadfully embarrassed to have to tell her guests that her brother and new sister-in-law were upstairs making mad passionate love to each other.”

  Mia shrugged with a catlike smile. “I think she would be all right with it. She does want her children to be close in age with ours.”

  Simon laughed. “She told you that?”

  “I do believe she was trying to determine if I had trapped you into marriage. I quickly relieved her of that notion.” Mia stood and walked toward her husband. “But I do believe she was a little disappointed.” She skimmed her fingers up his jacket, then around his neck. Pressing her body against his, she whispered, “We really shouldn’t disappoint your
sister. If she wants our children close, we have to get busy and make that happen.”

  He kissed her quickly, then pushed her away gently.

  “All right, my temptress, we should go now.” He held out his hand and led her down the hall. At the top of the stairs, he halted. The sounds of conversations from the salon floated upward.

  “Simon, we can do this,” she urged softly.

  He gave her a strange look. “Of course we can.”

  They walked down the stairs as the front door opened. A couple walked in and stopped when they noticed Simon. Relief surged through Mia.

  “Selina!” Mia threw herself into her dearest friend’s arms. “I am so glad you’re here!”

  “I’m not,” she whispered. “But I’m glad I’m here for you.”

  Mia pulled back slightly. “You didn’t want to attend?”

  “I will tell you why later. Colin insisted we come to give our assistance to you and Hart.”

  “Thank you. Why didn’t you tell me you would be here too?” Mia asked. She would have felt so much more relaxed knowing Selina would be here.

  “We weren’t positive we would attend. I didn’t want to disappoint you if we couldn’t get away.”

  “Mia, we should move to the salon and let North and his wife get settled,” Simon reminded her.

  “Yes. Will you be joining us for dinner?”

  “Not tonight,” Selina said, stifling a yawn. “I am exhausted from the drive.”

  Caroline and Richard came into the entryway with smiles. “Your Graces, welcome to our home,” Richard said with a bow.

  As they made their greetings, Mia and Simon walked into the crowded salon. Several conversations stopped as they strolled in. But just as quickly, the room buzzed with whispered exchanges. Mia wanted to run from the room but could not embarrass Simon in such a manner. Of course there would be talk, she convinced herself. No one had heard of his marriage before now. She just had to get used to being the center of attention until people found out.

  Richard and Caroline reentered the room and walked directly to them. Several gazes followed them.

  “We need to introduce you to everyone,” Caroline said with a gentle smile to Mia.

  Everyone greeted both Simon and Mia with a cold politeness that chilled the room. As she watched, Mia noticed there was a wariness in people’s eyes as they spoke to Simon. She wondered why. Perhaps it was due to his unwillingness to socialize with his equals. She couldn’t think of any other reason for their reticence.

  If Simon took notice of their attitudes, he must have ignored it. As soon as the introductions were finished, he walked to Richard and started a conversation with him, leaving Mia to wander the room.

  One young woman took pity on her and said, “Countess, come sit with me.”

  Mia stared at the pretty blonde trying to remember the woman’s name. “Thank you...”

  She laughed softly. “Miss Evelyn Layton. It must be difficult to remember everyone’s name, my lady.”

  Mia felt a hint of unease skitter up her back as she sat on the sofa next to the woman. “Please call me Mia.”

  “Mia, what an interesting name,” Evelyn said. “Very different.”

  “My father was fascinated with Greek mythology. I was born in the fall so he named me Demia after the goddess of the harvest.”

  “Fascinating,” Evelyn said as she sipped her sherry. “How is it that we haven’t met before now? I have been out for three Seasons now.”

  Ahh, the real reason for the conversation—discover where this commoner came from. “I live in the Midlands. My family doesn’t socialize in town.”

  “Of course.” She placed her glass down on the table. “So how did you meet the earl?”

  “I have known his family for years. Since I was a little girl.” Mia sipped her sherry and plotted her story. “I never expected he would be interested in me, but I believe he was tired of the women he met in town.”

  Evelyn’s cheeks flushed. “Indeed. So that explains his long absence from Society. He was courting you.”

  “Not the entire time,” Mia said with a laugh.

  “If it wasn’t you keeping him from London, then it truly must have been... well... the incident.”

  The incident! What incident? She couldn’t ask Evelyn what she meant, so she would have to wait to speak with Simon. Since he hadn’t thought to mention any incidents, Mia was sure, he didn’t wish to speak of it. Oh, but she wanted to know. “Well, that was a long time ago. Hart does love the country, which is why he spends so much time at the estate.”

  “I suppose he does. Although, personally, I would find it tiresome. London has everything.”

  “True, but some people enjoy a quieter life.”

  “Yes. You will come down for the Season, though? You truly must meet everyone.”

  Mia shivered at the idea of meeting more people like Evelyn. There was something unsettling about her. “It will depend on his lordship. If he wishes to attend, then we will.”

  Evelyn tilted her head. “Oh, dear. You really have so much to learn about marriage. You must tell him that you will attend the Season with or without him.”

  Mia almost laughed aloud at this young woman. Mia had no idea how to comport herself in the company of the ton, and most certainly couldn’t do it without Simon there to assist her. Nor did she even care about attending the Season. Although, the gowns were rather lovely. “As I said, Miss Layton, Hart will decide if we shall attend.”

  “Not surprising that he would be so heavy-handed,” she muttered into her glass.

  Simon was far from heavy-handed. Mia itched to learn what Evelyn kept implying. Perhaps Selina might know. Mia was certain that Evelyn was dying to tell her all about it and Mia wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction. “Hart is a wonderful husband.”

  “As long as you’re happy and safe, that’s all that matters,” Evelyn said before excusing herself.

  Happy and safe? What the bloody hell was going on here? Did Evelyn know something about what had happened to her at Lambert’s hands? Could someone already have learned her true identity and background? Mia knew it would come out at some point, but she couldn’t admit the truth to that woman.

  Simon glanced down the long table and stared at his wife. She had sent him a few odd looks. He longed to speak with her to discover what was on her mind. He could only imagine what some of these ladies might have said to her. Did she already know the truth and hate him for it?

  While he wanted to talk to her, he had a greater desire to get away from all these people. The woman next to him, Lady Ainsworth, had inched her chair closer to Lord Ratbourne who usually stunk of body odor and brandy. She had not spoken directly to Simon since being seated.

  Nothing like a cut direct to make for a wonderful dinner. He’d known it would be difficult to reenter Society after a five-year absence, but now he wondered if staying away had only fueled the rumors. Would it have been better to stay and fight the rumors?

  Perhaps they should return to Hartsfield Park and live a quiet life. He doubted Mia would mind, she had never known anything different. But he wanted more for her. He wanted to show her the wonderful aspects of London, the opera, the theatre, and the lavish parties of the ton.

  He stared down at the salmon on his plate and lost his appetite. After what he did five years ago, he didn’t deserve to be accepted back into the fold. If he and Mia continued to socialize with these people, he would be forced to tell her the truth and possibly lose her trust forever. How could he do that?

  How could he not, his conscience reminded him. She was his wife and deserved to learn the truth about him. All of it.

  Finally, dinner ended and the ladies left for the salon. Trepidation snaked down his back when he thought about Mia being alone with all those women. He hoped his grandmother or Caroline would protect her. A footman placed a brandy in front of him.

  “Beautiful wife, Hart,” one older gentleman commented. “She doesn’t look like your typical
lady, though.”

  “Oh?”

  “Don’t take offense. I meant it as a compliment. I sat next to her at dinner and we had a lovely conversation on investing money. Beauty and intelligence is a rarity. Most men don’t know what’s good for us. Intelligence is what men need in a marriage. Keeps us on our toes and out of other women’s bedrooms.”

  Simon relaxed slightly as he sipped his brandy. “Then thank you.”

  The conversation turned to the politics of war. Simon excused himself to wander outside for a few moments of privacy. The air had turned cooler as darkness fell over Suffolk. A few leaves crunched under his feet as he walked toward the formal gardens. He found a bench and sat alone wondering how he would tell Mia what had happened.

  She would be terrified of him. How could he explain the actions of an angry young man? He couldn’t. He’d never been able to forgive himself for what he’d done to that man. Mia would never understand.

  Hearing the crackle of leaves being stomped on, he looked up hoping to see Mia.

  “So tell me, my lord,” a soft voice sounded from a few feet away, “does your lovely wife know what you did to my cousin?”

  Bloody hell, Baxter’s cousin was here at his sister’s party? What was Caroline thinking? “Excuse me?”

  She walked closer. Her blond hair shone in the moonlight. “My cousin. You do remember him, don’t you? The man you almost killed with your bare hands?”

  “You are...?”

  “Miss Layton, my lord. I had a lovely talk with your wife this evening. I did get the distinct impression she is unaware of your past.” Miss Layton shook her head. “That is not a good way to start a marriage, my lord.”

  “Stay away from my wife,” he warned.

  “Or what? Will you beat me too?”

  “You have no idea what happened that night.”

  She laughed in a haughty tone. “Yes, I do. I also know he wasn’t the first fight you had gotten into. I do hope your little bride doesn’t mind the feel of your fists.”

  Simon rose to his full height and stared down at the bitch. “I would never hit a woman.” He leaned forward. “No matter how tempting it might be.”