An Earl Like You

by Caroline Linden

  She noticed he didn’t respond to her declaration, but let it go. Such things were difficult for men to say, and Hugh had amply demonstrated his affections. “When was this house last decorated?”

  He looked blank. “Decorated? I’ve no idea.”

  Eliza nodded. The house was dark and outdated. It was older and smaller than Papa’s house, and it didn’t have the advantage of being on a hill above the river in full sunlight, but there was no reason it must keep to the styles of fifty years ago. “I plan to speak to your mother. She’s a very elegant lady, and I wonder if perhaps she doesn’t have time, or perhaps interest, in decorating. Because the drawing room is dismal, and this room would send anyone into a melancholy.”

  “Ah.” Hugh rolled off her and stared at the ceiling, his fingers idly plucking at her hair, which was in a wild tangle across the pillows. “My father wasn’t fond of London, so we rarely visited before this Season. The house has been for let these past several years, and it surely needs a fresh touch.”

  “Yes!” Eagerly she scooted closer, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “Then your mother won’t take offense if I invite her to refurbish it with me?”

  His fingers paused. “I hope she wouldn’t. You are mistress of the house now, Eliza.”

  Eliza knew better than that. “But I don’t want to insult her. I—I don’t remember my mother at all, and I would like to endear myself to yours.”

  Hugh eased his arm from under her and sat up, swinging his feet to the floor. “She won’t object if you refurbish the house.” He rose and put on his dressing gown. Eliza sat up, clutching the linens to her chest in speechless dismay. “I have some matters to attend to today, but I’ll return for dinner.”

  “Of course,” she murmured, but he was already striding toward the dressing room. The door closed behind him, and she wondered what she’d said wrong.

  Hugh washed and dressed, then sent Bernard to fetch Willy from the kitchen for Eliza. His mother didn’t like dogs and Edith was frightened of them, but Eliza deserved to have her pet with her.

  In part of his brain he knew he ought to stay home and help smooth his bride’s way with his family, and Eliza had handed him the perfect way to do it. When they reached London, his mother had openly longed to throw out the dusty draperies in the drawing room and buy new furniture. Hugh had resisted because he could not pay for new draperies or furniture, but now there was plenty of money to spend on the house. His mother should be delighted to have a daughter-in-law who not only wanted to refurbish, but had both funds and taste to do so. All he had to do was present Eliza’s plan to his mother in the right way, and both women would be happily occupied.

  But his overriding goal today, the thing he had to do before anything else, was patch up the rift with Livingston and Benwick. He would have to keep his temper, of course, and not react to any slights Benwick might utter about Eliza. If Edith weren’t desperately in love with the fellow, he wouldn’t bother, but of all the things Hugh had done to protect and care for his sisters, this might be the most important. For Edith, he could hold his tongue.

  His equanimity took a blow when he went down the stairs and saw Edward Cross. The man had just come in—the butler still held his hat and coat—and when he saw Hugh on the stairs he smirked. There was no way to stop the instinctive surge of animosity.

  “Good morning, Lord Hastings,” Cross said with a wide smile.

  “Mr. Cross.” Hugh bowed his head. “I did not expect you.”

  Cross raised one brow. “No? But we’re family now.”

  The last thread of his patience snapped. “Come, then,” he said coldly. He turned on his heel and strode toward his study.

  “No need to be irate,” said Cross when the door was closed. “I’ve brought you a wedding gift.” He took a packet from his pocket and held it out.

  Hugh knew what it was even before he opened it. Promissory notes, mortgages, and bills, all annotated with Paid in full. The sight of his father’s signature sent a bolt of fury and anguish through him that almost rivaled the one he’d felt at the sight of Edward Cross. “Thank you,” he said woodenly.

  “As we agreed.” Cross gave his faint smile. “I’ve already called upon my solicitors and instructed them to pay Eliza’s remaining dowry funds.”

  It was exactly as agreed; they had both honored the bargain struck little more than a month ago. In just a few words yesterday, he’d gone from nearly bankrupt and deeply in debt to wealthy and prosperous, with the expectation of enormous riches to come. His debts were paid and his accounts would soon swell by another forty thousand pounds. And yet Hugh felt hollow, as if he’d won a Pyrrhic victory.

  Slowly he folded the documents and put them in a drawer. He faced his father-in-law and willed away his anger. “Mr. Cross,” he said, “you may call upon Eliza any time you like. You are welcome here as long as she will receive you.”

  “How generous,” remarked the man, still smiling.

  “Our business, however, is concluded. Since our first discussion, I have been repeatedly and constantly reminded that you are not an easy man, and you have enemies.”

  “Every man has enemies. I daresay there’s some who resent your place and power in the world.” Cross folded his arms.

  Hugh breathed evenly, holding his temper in check. “What happened between you and Viscount Livingston?”

  Cross looked mildly surprised. “Nothing of import. We had some business in mining shares.”

  “He claims you cheated him.”

  “Does he?” Cross lifted one shoulder. “He’s an ass. He thought any investment he made would triple. As it turned out, he was wrong.”

  Hugh also thought Livingston was an ass, but it had been too much to hope Cross might confess to some misdeed Hugh could persuade him to rectify. “You don’t seem concerned to be called a swindler.”

  “Not by the likes of Livingston,” said Cross with cold disdain.

  The likes of Livingston, who would—hopefully—be Edith’s father-in-law. If, that is, Hugh could convince him to overlook the fact that Edward Cross was his father-in-law. “The ‘likes of Livingston’ form the society I live in,” he said. “I am not so cavalier about their good opinions.”

  Cross eyed him for a moment. “There’s nothing I could do to earn Livingston’s good opinion. If he’d profited from our association, he would have still thought me a common, vulgar man, not fit to join his society. But then, perhaps that’s what you thought, too, my lord.”

  “I confess I never thought of you at all before you barged into my life and forced me to.”

  Cross smirked. “And it’s not come out too badly for you.”

  Hugh hated the fact that Cross was right. “I certainly hope it turns out well, since my side of the bargain is for the rest of my life.”

  The other man’s smirk disappeared. “What are you saying?”

  Right. The man was not subtle, so Hugh shouldn’t be, either. “I would prefer not to see you often—if ever.”

  Cross seemed bitterly amused by that. His mouth twisted, although his eyes were hard. “Ah. I may visit Eliza only.”

  Hugh inclined his head. “It would be best if you sent word before calling.”

  “So the rest of you can clear out and not be soiled by my visit?” Cross chuckled. “How shall you explain that to your wife?”

  “I don’t plan to,” said Hugh. “I shall simply arrange to be elsewhere, so that you and she may converse at leisure, without interruption.” And more importantly, he could divert his mother and sisters. They were civil to Eliza but regarded Mr. Cross as just short of villainous. If Benwick jilted Edith because of Cross, there would be civil war in his house.

  Cross’s mouth tightened. “What about the children?”

  Hugh quelled the instinctive refusal. “We’ll address that if it becomes necessary.”

  “When,” said Cross. “I expect to see my grandchildren.”

  Hugh hesitated, then nodded. He expected to have an heir, hopefully sever
al. Eliza would be a loving mother. But he’d be damned if Cross had any sway over his children. The man could see them and play with them, but no more.

  For a moment they stood in silent combat, glaring at each other. Finally Cross relented; his curious smile returned, and he made an elaborate bow. “As you wish, my lord.”

  “Mr. Cross.” Hugh paused, choosing his words carefully. “I do not wish for us to be enemies. Eliza is my wife now, which makes us family. I pledged before God to protect and honor her yesterday, and I will keep that vow. But I resent your interference in my affairs and your manipulation of my actions, and I cannot bring myself to regard you as a friend.”

  “No,” the other man agreed. “I understand. I didn’t bargain for a friend, I bargained for a good husband for my daughter. As long as you are that, we have no quarrel. I’ll spare you my presence, if you wish, and not darken your name to Eliza.” Hugh nodded once in acknowledgment. “But Hastings . . . If you are not a good husband, remember that well—I am not your friend, and there is no length I wouldn’t go to for my daughter.” Cross delivered his parting shot without any expression at all. He bowed once more, and left.

  Chapter 18

  Eliza’s campaign to win over her new mother-in-law and sisters-in-law did not get off to a good start.

  Not wanting to seem proud or aloof, she got up and went downstairs to breakfast. Outside the room, she could hear the murmur of conversation, even laughter. She pressed her trembling hands against her skirt, lifted her chin, and walked in with a bright smile. “Good morning.”

  Aside from a spoon dropped by Henrietta, the room fell silent. Lady Hastings looked astonished, Henrietta anxious, and Edith jumped up and went to the sideboard, turning her back to Eliza.

  “I hope I’m not intruding,” Eliza added, trying and failing to keep the hesitation from her voice.

  “Not at all, my dear. Of course you are welcome.” The dowager looked at the servant. “Geoffrey, prepare a plate for Lady Hastings.”

  Eliza stifled the urge to say she would get her own plate. She took the empty seat next to her mother-in-law. “What lovely china,” she said when the footman brought her plate. “Thank you, Geoffrey.”

  Silence settled over the room. Eliza tried to study her new family, hoping to find some way to win them over. She wasn’t sure why they were so restrained; she’d heard them laughing and talking with each other before she came in, and Hugh spoke of his sisters with easy affection. It could simply be the presence of a stranger in their house, at their table, but they didn’t seem that formal.

  She thought she had the best chance with the dowager, who had been gracious and kind, if reserved, to her so far. The older woman was still lovely and dressed in the height of fashion. The silver streaks in her blond hair were only visible up close, and she was slim and dainty, the perfect lady. Henrietta, the younger sister, had Hugh’s dark eyes and hair, but Edith, fair and blue-eyed like her mother, was the beauty of the family.

  “I wish to apologize for Willy,” she said. “I don’t want him to inconvenience anyone.”

  The dowager smiled briefly. “How considerate of you. No one warned me, so he startled me.”

  “He is a good dog,” Eliza quickly added. “He’s used to playing in the gardens at my father’s house, but he is also trained to behave indoors.”

  Silverware clattered on china. Eliza looked up to see Edith staring at her, pale-faced. “You brought the dog?”

  “Really?” chimed in Henrietta with a great deal more enthusiasm.

  “Yes.” Eliza smiled at the girl, pleased to have elicited anything positive.

  Edith shot a look of dismay at her mother before lowering her gaze to her plate. Henrietta’s delighted expression faltered, and she too looked away. Eliza didn’t know what to say, and so she sat and sipped her tea, cowed into silence.

  After breakfast she took Willy for a long walk. It wasn’t the same as being in Greenwich, but Green Park was close by, and they took a meandering path through it. Eliza realized she would be able to walk regularly with Georgiana now, and her heart felt lighter until she returned to the house.

  Just walking into it lowered her spirits. The house faced the open square, in view of trees and grass and sun, but it seemed perpetually in shadow. The front rooms were dark and drab. Eliza reminded herself not to be spoiled as she handed over her cloak and took Willy into the morning room. She would invite Georgiana to call, as soon as possible. Seeing a friend would help immeasurably.

  She wrote the note and went to have it sent. The house was very quiet. “Where is Lady Hastings?” she asked the butler.

  “She has gone out with Lady Edith, ma’am,” Wilkins replied.

  “I see.” At a loss, Eliza drifted back to the morning room. Willy looked up and woofed at her. Eliza sank to the floor and the dog crawled into her lap, resting his head on her arm. She smiled and scratched his ears. “Good boy,” she told him. “What would I do without you?”

  A tap on the door made her look up. Henrietta peered around it. “Is this your dog?”

  Eliza scrambled up from the floor. “Yes! Come in, he’s very friendly. Willy, sit,” she told the dog firmly.

  Tail wagging, Willy sat at her feet. Henrietta came in, a nervous smile on her face. “What should I do?”

  “Just hold out your hand and let him sniff it.” Eliza held her breath as her sister-in-law came closer, her gaze fixed on Willy. Tentatively Henrietta put out her hand, and Willy, thank the blessed Lord, stayed quietly on the floor. He sniffed Henrietta’s offered hand and licked her fingers, then sat back and looked at her hopefully.

  “He’s very gentle,” said Henrietta in astonished delight.

  “You’re doing precisely the right thing.” Eliza beamed in relief. “Would you like to pet him?”

  “Oh—yes.”

  “Willy, down,” ordered Eliza. The dog dropped onto his belly, but his dark eyes stayed on Henrietta. “Go ahead,” she encouraged.

  Henrietta sank onto the sofa and patted the dog’s head, then stroked her fingers into the ruff of fur around his neck. “He’s very soft.”

  “He particularly likes it when you scratch behind his left ear.”

  The girl did so, a surprised smile spreading over her face as Willy rolled over and gave a gusty sigh of obvious pleasure.

  “Do you like dogs?” Eliza ventured. She took the chair next to the sofa.

  Still petting Willy, Henrietta laughed. “I think so. We’ve never had dogs. Mama doesn’t like them, and Edith is frightened of them.” She dug her fingers into Willy’s fur, and he responded by stretching out across her feet.

  “I hope no one will be afraid of Willy,” said Eliza. “He’s very friendly.” She tried not to let any apprehension color her voice. She would hate to have to choose between her dog and her mother-and sister-in-law.

  “Oh, he is.” All the hesitation had vanished from Henrietta’s voice, replaced by wondering delight.

  “Why is Edith frightened of dogs?” It wouldn’t explain Edith’s animosity toward her, but Eliza was desperate to understand her.

  Henrietta grimaced. “A large dog knocked her down and bit her when she was a child. After that she would scream with fear whenever a dog came near her, which made our mother very anxious, so our father banned all dogs from the estate. The hunting hounds were kept at a neighbor’s.”

  “How frightening.” Eliza was sympathetic. “Willy isn’t large enough to knock her down. I hope she’ll warm to him.”

  Henrietta rolled her eyes. “Edith doesn’t change her mind easily. She already doesn’t like—” She stopped abruptly, and Eliza had a terrible fear the girl had been about to say you. Edith’s attitude was too cold to be simple reserve.

  “I’m so pleased you came to get to know him.” Eliza leaned down and ran her fingers through Willy’s black-and-white fur, scratching on his belly where he liked it. “He’ll be your friend forever if you feed him a bit of ham.”

  “Will he?” Henrietta grinned. �
�I’ll try it.”

  “Would you like to walk him with me later? We discovered Green Park this morning, and Willy was thrilled.”

  Henrietta bit her lip. She put her hand back in her lap. “Perhaps.”

  That was too far to push matters. Eliza jumped to her feet. “Would you like to see him do tricks?”

  As hoped, the girl brightened. “Oh yes! Please.”

  After ringing for some cheese, one of Willy’s favorite treats, Eliza put him through all of his tricks. He stood up on his back legs, he rolled over, he found and fetched Eliza’s handkerchief after she hid it under a cushion. She even had him leap over the sofa and crawl back under it, which made Henrietta clap her hands in delight. Willy came and rested his head on the girl’s knee, his tongue lolling out, and at Eliza’s prompting she fed him a bit of cheese.

  “Hugh says you will make your debut next year.” Eliza was groping for a safe topic of discussion.

  To Eliza’s relief, Henrietta smiled and nodded eagerly. “I’m so looking forward to it. Edith has told me many tales of the balls and parties she’s gone to. She’s promised to be my sponsor next Season, in addition to Mama. I’ve begun dreaming of my court gown, which Hugh tells me is a sign I shall trip on my train or do something else humiliating.”

  “No,” declared Eliza. “I’m sure you won’t.”

  Henrietta giggled. “I hope not! He can be a terrible tease. After he said that I told him I would make him practice everything with me.”

  “And I understand your sister is to be married soon,” Eliza dared to say. “How wonderful for her.” Perhaps she could help plan Edith’s wedding and share in that excitement.

  Something changed in Henrietta’s face, as if she had remembered something unpleasant. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I should go reply to my friend Cecily’s letter. She’s at home in Cornwall.”

  “Does she live near Rosemere?”

  “Yes.” Henrietta looked at Willy, who was lying on the floor gnawing at a stick he’d somehow brought in. “Thank you for letting me pet him.”