Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords & Ladies in Love)

by Callie Hutton

  “Frankly, I don’t know what to make of this. Of course, I won’t have my wife’s mother on the street. But one wonders what the hurry is.” He opened the note and studied it. “It appears she has been notified that the new earl will be arriving much sooner than planned.”

  “In any event, I have decided to visit Eugenia and stay until the child arrives.”

  He looked up at her, frowning. “That won’t be for many months.”

  “Yes. But her country home is much larger than this townhouse. You do not need your mother about, looking over your wife’s shoulder. Arabella needs to find her own way to run the household and should not have to feel as though she needs my permission to change things. It is her house now, and she needs to feel comfortable.”

  “So instead you will plague Eugenia,” he said with a smirk.

  His mother stood and kissed the top of his head. “But of course. I am her mother. That is my privilege.”

  “Much like Lady Melrose has the privilege to plague my wife.” Nash pushed his chair back and stood.

  She smiled brightly. “I always knew you were a bright young man.”

  “How soon will you leave?”

  “I expect to be ready to depart in about two hours. I would like to speak with Arabella first. I don’t want her to think she is chasing me away.” She tapped her chin with her fingertip and studied him. “Despite how things started off, I do believe Arabella will be a good wife for you, Nash. She is older, and you won’t feel the need to guide her every step.”

  “I agree. Though the lively visit from her menagerie this morning before I had time to even open my eyes is an issue that needs to be dealt with.”

  “Ah, yes. I remember growling and shouting coming from your bedchamber earlier. Cook said someone from Melrose Townhouse delivered the animals this morning.” His mother tried her best to stifle her laughter but did not succeed. “I am sure you will get it all worked out. As I’ve already noted, you are a bright young man.”

  …

  Arabella entered the kitchen on her way to the breakfast room. “Does anyone know where my dogs are?”

  Cook dropped the spoon she was using to stir something over the fire. “My lady! What are you doing in the kitchen?”

  “Looking for my dogs?”

  “It isn’t proper for you to be here, my lady. You can always send a footman with a note. However, I believe his lordship ordered Macon, one of our footmen, to take them on a morning walk.”

  “Thank you.” She left the very flustered cook to resume her duties and continued on to the breakfast room. It appeared her new home was much more formal than the one in which she’d been raised. Although, it did seem Nash employed more servants than her mother had. She had begun to wonder about the depletion of help at their home over the past year or so, but had never questioned it.

  Nash sat at the table, his head buried in the newspaper. He glanced up and stood. “Good morning, again.”

  Memories of the night before flooded her, giving rise to what she was sure was a very red blush to her cheeks. How could Nash sit there like it was any other morning after the things they’d done? Then she realized, as a man, what they’d done the night before was nothing special to him, since he no doubt had bedded many other women. Her spirits drooped at that realization, hoping he hadn’t found her wanting, compared to others. Shaking off her despondent mood, she moved to the table loaded to groaning with an array of breakfast foods. “Everything looks delicious.”

  “I had no idea what you preferred for breakfast, so I had Cook prepare several items. If there is anything else you enjoy, I will have Cook add it to the breakfast list.”

  “No, this is fine. Truly, wonderful.” She filled her plate with eggs, toast, an orange, and bacon. Once Nash pulled out her chair for her and she sat, he waved at the footman. “Bring some hot tea for her ladyship.”

  Arabella leaned her head to one side. There he goes again, deciding things for me. “Actually, I prefer coffee in the morning.”

  “Really?” Nash viewed her with surprise, then turned to the footman. “Make that hot coffee for her ladyship, and I will take some more, as well.”

  “I guess we have a great deal to learn about each other.” Arabella tapped her egg with a spoon and peeled away the cracked shell.

  “I think most couples have the same task. Even if we had courted for weeks, I would still not know what you ate—or drank—for breakfast.”

  Of course, you could have asked.

  “We received an invitation to a soiree Thursday next. We should be back from Suffolk by then. I will pass that, along with any other solicitations to you, since I assume you will be handling our social calendar?”

  Arabella stopped as she raised a piece of toast to her mouth. “Oh, I hadn’t thought about that. Mother always took care of those things and just told me where we were expected, and when.”

  “If you check with my valet, Andrews, he is apprised of events I have already accepted. Since you are now my wife, it is expected we will attend together. I am sure Andrews will not be relieved to see his control of my life at an end, but, nevertheless, you are in charge now.”

  It appeared at least in one area of their life there would be no interference from her husband.

  Nash folded the newspaper and placed it alongside his plate. “Mother received a note this morning. She passed it along to me, and I feel you are the correct person to have it.” He handed her the folded paper.

  She glanced at the note. “Yes, Mother had always planned to take up residence with me when I married. I had hoped it would not be quite so soon, however.”

  He eyed her fumbling with the note. “It is not a problem, Arabella. We will not have your mother tossed into the street, although I doubt very much if that is the new earl’s intention. However, if it makes your mother feel more secure, then so be it. She seemed to get on well while she was here during your illness.

  “On another note, my mother is leaving later this morning to visit my sister and her husband in Devonshire.”

  “Your mother is leaving?” A small knot appeared in her stomach as she placed her hands in her lap, her appetite gone. “Is it because of me?”

  “No. And she specifically mentioned that she was not leaving because of you. It is her intention to speak with you before she leaves, to assuage you of any concerns about her departure. She feels we need time to settle in together, and you need time to find your feet with regard to managing the household.”

  Another area where she was to be in charge. Her spirits rose. Now if she could continue on with her animals, things might actually become pleasant in this marriage. Particularly where bed activities were concerned.

  “I’m sure Mrs. McGregor would be more than happy to answer any questions that arise. She has been with the family since I was in short pants. That also means she feels as though she knows what is best for all concerned. I’m afraid you will simply have to accept that.” He gave her a half smile, confirming the fondness he felt for the woman.

  His charming way set her to thinking. Fate had been kind to her, since he was certainly someone she was fortunate to have been caught with in a dark library. If things had turned out the way her mother had planned, she would right now be staring across the breakfast table at Lord Pembroke. She shuddered to think of every morning watching his sausage fingers stuff food into his mouth. To say nothing of having those same fingers touch her body in the way Nash had caressed her the night before.

  A very familiar voice rose from outside the breakfast room door. Arabella laid her coffee cup in the saucer and stared at her mother standing in the doorway, Quinn hovering over her. “My lord, my lady, Lady Melrose has arrived.”

  Nash pulled out a chair for her mother. “Lady Melrose, please have a seat.” He turned to the footman. “Please bring hot tea for her ladyship and see that fresh food is brought out as well.”

  Mother waved her hand. “No need for food, but a cup of tea would be very nice. And perhaps a small c
ake, or a roll of some sort.”

  After greeting her mother, and raising her cheek for a light kiss, Arabella continued with her breakfast, finding her appetite had once again returned to normal. Mother thanked the footman for the tea, and after fixing it, took a sip. Nash stood and bowed. “I will leave you ladies to work out the logistics.”

  “No, wait.” Arabella jumped up and hurried after him. She caught him in the hallway as he was trying to make his escape from the house. “When will the kennel be built?”

  He frowned and turned for Quinn to help him into his greatcoat. “Once I commission someone to do it.” The arrogance was back.

  She rested her hands on her hips. “And when will that be?”

  “When I have time.” He gave her a peck on her cheek and taking his hat, gloves, and cane from Quinn, left the house.

  Quinn’s dignified presence kept her from stamping her foot like a child.

  Chapter Ten

  Nash handed his belongings to the footman at the door of White’s. Trying to adjust to marriage and his new life had forced him to flee the house and spend some quiet time among familiar people and things. He’d forgotten the promised ride with Arabella, but with her mother settling in, most likely she would forgo the outing.

  In less than two weeks, he had married a woman he barely knew, who’d spent the time since their vows recovering from an illness. His hopes for the funds to prop up his estate had been dashed, and his mother-in-law had moved in, as his own mother moved out. He shook his head. Too many changes in too short a time period.

  “Clarendon!” Lord Langley waved at him from across the room. The longtime friend was a welcome sight in view of all the adjustments with which he was presently dealing. After weaving his way across the room, nodding to various members, Nash settled into the comfortable leather chair across from Langley. The familiar walls of the club, the hum of conversation, the cup of coffee presented by a footman, and the boisterous activity surrounding the betting book all worked to soothe him, bringing familiar normalcy back into his life.

  “The new bridegroom, already escaping from his bride.” Langley grinned at Nash before taking a sip of coffee.

  Although Nash felt a bit of resentment at his friend’s remarks, there was truth in the statement. He was, indeed, escaping. Not necessarily from Arabella, but everything she represented. Change. Change on which he hadn’t planned.

  “I wasn’t aware that you were even acquainted with the former Lady Arabella, never mind ready to offer for her. Or is there substance to the rumors floating about?”

  Nash waved his hand in the air. “I pay no attention to rumors. My wife—” He choked on the word. “And I, are well. She has household matters requiring her attention this morning, and I would merely be in the way.”

  “As you say.” Langley placed his cup in the saucer and leaned back, resting a booted foot on his knee. “On a more interesting note, it has come to my attention that a very lucrative investment is in the wind, and I have every reason to believe it is something you would be interested in, as well. From what I hear, only a select few are being invited to join in.”

  Langley’s words brought to mind his limited funds and current financial state. His feeling of contentment slowly ebbed away. “What sort of investment, and how much?”

  “Only two hundred pounds per man.” Langley leaned forward and motioned to Nash to do the same. “A man will never make any sort of money from the Funds. This investment is in trade.”

  “Trade?” Peers did not involve themselves in trade, although Nash had known several who had made a significant amount of money, in a very quiet way, by investing in trade. The school of thought was, as long as a gentleman did not directly involve himself, those who mattered were happy to look the other way. “Do you have the information on hand?”

  “Silks and china from the Orient. Cloth from India.” Langley stopped as two members drifted by, close enough to hear their conversation. He drew out his calling card and after summoning a pen from a footman, scratched words on the back. He handed it to Nash. “There’s a meeting next week. Here is the date and direction. If you are interested in hearing more, come by about eight in the evening. You can judge for yourself.”

  Nash took the card from Langley’s hand and studied it. The location he’d written was in a part of town containing warehouses that stored goods shipped from various parts of the world. He would be remiss if he did not attend this meeting. If he used part of Arabella’s dowry for an investment, the rest could be put aside to make at least some improvements for the tenants on his estate.

  “Now I must leave you to your internal meanderings, as I have an appointment with my tailor. Have to keep up appearances, you know.” Langley grinned at Nash and stood. “I hope to see you at the meeting. From what I’ve learned so far, it could be quite worthwhile.”

  Nash nodded. “And you believe it is possible I would be one of the chosen few?”

  “I will meet you there. If you want in, it will be so.” Langley winked and strode through the room.

  It would certainly be smart to at least see what the presenter had to say. He stuck the card in his pocket and picked up the newspaper Langley had discarded.

  Close to the dinner hour, he entered his townhouse. He had no idea where Arabella was, and everything was quiet. He headed to the library. A study of his financial records was a good idea. He would be sure to pledge the two hundred pounds at the meeting, but would only relinquish the money if he was convinced it was the best use of Arabella’s dowry.

  Deep in thought, he opened the library door and came to a dead stop, his nose twitching at the strong odor. “What is going on here?”

  Arabella rose from a kneeling position as he shouted, the front of an apron covering her dress full of blood and mud. A cat and a small dog lay in individual baskets on the floor in front of the fire. They were both whimpering and bleeding from several gashes. If blood had not been dripping from the cat, he would have sworn it was dead. A basin of brown-stained water sat between them, and his wife held a cloth fisted in her hand. “Oh thank heavens you are home. I need your help.”

  “Madam, this is not a surgery, but my library. What are those animals doing bleeding all over my floor?”

  Arabella wiped her hands on the cloth and moved toward him. “They are not bleeding on the floor. They are in baskets. To answer your question, Cleopatra and Hercules got into a fight with another animal who escaped. I’m afraid they both require stitches.”

  Hercules? This dog was the one he’d noticed earlier, that he’d thought was no more than a large rat. She’d named him Hercules? There was no doubt in his mind. His wife was daft. Perhaps he could arrange for an annulment based on lunacy.

  His or hers. It mattered not. Once he told the court his story, he was sure to prevail.

  “Arabella, you are not a veterinarian. You might end up killing these animals.” He shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. “And you are supposed to be preparing to leave for Suffolk tomorrow.”

  She raised her chin and glared at him. “I have done this sort of thing for years, my lord. I could use your assistance, but if you refuse, it will not stop me from helping them.” She waved her hand. “And I am all ready to leave tomorrow.”

  Nash rubbed the back of his neck, still discombobulated at the scene in his neat, quiet library. “What I could use is some assurance that I will not come home to my wife performing surgery in my library. This is not the way a countess conducts herself, Arabella.”

  “Maybe not, my lord, but this is the way I conduct myself.” Her eyes flashed, and she stuck out her little, stubborn chin.

  He had anticipated a stronger presence in the ton with a wife to handle their social calendar and do all the things a countess does. His mind had conjured up pictures of Arabella involved in sewing circles to make garments for the poor, hosting dinner parties, and making and accepting afternoon calls.

  Instead he was faced with a willful, hardheaded woman who refuse
d to adapt to her new position in life. Lord what had he gotten himself into? “Perhaps that tidbit of information should have been shared with me before we said our nuptials.” He stalked across the room and poured himself two fingers of whiskey.

  The wet, bloodied cloth still in her hand, she twisted her body to watch his march across the room. “Indeed? And when, pray tell, would I have had the time to disclose any information about myself? If you remember, we had about three days from the time we were discovered in the library at the Ashbourne ball and our wedding. And after that, I was delirious with fever for days.”

  He waved the glass at her. “The hurried wedding was not my fault, I assure you. I had no intention of…”

  “Of offering for me?” Her eyes snapped. “I know that, ’tis not a secret. And I asked you more than once to allow me to cry off.”

  Although it was no more Arabella’s fault than it was his that they’d ended up married to each other, she still must learn to comport herself properly.

  As he studied her, his body seemed to take notice of her appearance. Straggling curls fell about her face from her disheveled topknot, surrounding her flushed face. Her eyes were darkened, and she chewed on her lower lip. The last time he’d see her looking this way, she’d been underneath him, writhing with passion.

  He drew in a calming breath, and trying to ignore what his body was doing, he placed the glass of whiskey on the table. “I doubt my feeble attempt at assistance will be of any service, but if it will help clear this mess up sooner, I will help.”

  He tamped down his annoyance when Arabella cast him a glowing smile. He almost preferred the feeling of suppressed passion to the knot of something soft that teased his insides at the beaming look on her face. Something he preferred not to think about.

  “But don’t let that cat near me.” He growled to cover his confusion.

  …

  A small twinge of happiness brought a smile to Arabella’s face. It appeared she’d won this battle. Of course, she was fully aware that countesses did not perform surgery. That was one of the reasons she’d eschewed marriage. She had wanted her freedom for as long as possible. As a young lady of the nobility, the only freedom afforded her was the choice of which gown to wear to a ball and which ribbon would match best.