An Earl Like You

by Caroline Linden

  “Of course, any time,” she said, but Henrietta was already on her feet, slipping out the door. Eliza gave Willy a helpless look. He rolled over and offered his belly. “What did I do?” she murmured, obligingly rubbing his stomach. She would have to ask Hugh and hope he could tell her.

  With a sigh she glanced around the morning room. It was small, the walls faded pewter, the floor scuffed under a dark rug. The furniture needed new upholstery and the decorations were almost nonexistent. The least she could do was make a plan to improve it. She went to get her notebook, where she sketched ideas, and set to work.

  Chapter 19

  Hugh managed to find Reginald Benwick at his club and all but forced him into a private room. He swallowed his pride and apologized for offending Lord Livingston, but pointed out that he could not undo his marriage. He asked what he could do to make amends, given that he could not and would not repudiate his wife.

  “But that is the problem,” Benwick argued. “She is the problem.”

  “She is not her father,” said Hugh, for what felt like the hundredth time. “What has my choice of wife got to do with your feelings for Edith?”

  Benwick looked away. “You know it’s not that simple, Hastings.”

  “Right.” His opinion of the young man had dropped a great deal, but overnight he remembered that Benwick must still be dependent on his father. It was Livingston’s ire that drove his son, but with the right touch, Benwick would calm down and remember how eager he’d been to marry Edith. With the right inducement, he would stop talking about jilting her. “I understand. It has struck me recently that ten thousand pounds, while it was what my father wished for her, is a modest dowry for the daughter of the Earl of Hastings. Another three or four thousand would be more appropriate to her status.”

  Benwick hesitated. A slight frown touched his brow.

  “Whoever marries my sister will be a fortunate man,” Hugh pressed. “She’s beautiful, charming, intelligent, and accomplished. You know that. She’s also got a loving heart, and will be a devoted and loyal wife.”

  The frown deepened into a scowl. “Cross is a thief.”

  He wanted to throttle the boy. “No one wants to marry Cross. But think how you’ll feel to see Edith on some other fellow’s arm, or dancing with him. How it will ache to picture her smiling up at another man, knowing she’ll bear his children instead of yours.”

  Benwick squeezed his eyes closed. Hugh felt a surge of hope; he was wavering. “I shall hate it,” he said thickly. “Nevertheless . . . Nevertheless, I cannot force my father into a connection with Edward Cross.” He gazed defiantly at Hugh. “He nearly ruined my father—did you know that, Hastings? It caused great difficulty for my family.”

  “We all make unwise investments from time to time,” Hugh tried to argue, but Benwick shook his head, his resolve back in place.

  “It was more than unwise. Cross maneuvered to get my father’s money invested, then cheated him out of it. He should be in prison, not watching his daughter wed an earl.” He almost spat the last. “You’ve let a viper into your home, sir. I care very deeply for Lady Edith, but my father is adamant. If I must choose between her or my family, I will side with my family every time.”

  “Why must you choose?” Hugh raised his brows. “You’re a man, not a boy. You know they have no objection to Edith herself. Surely you deserve to choose your own bride.”

  Temper flashed in Benwick’s face. “Thanks to Cross, my marriage is important to my family as well as to me. I promised my father half of Edith’s—my bride’s—dowry funds, to pay his debts.” His eyes turned speculative. “I suppose if you were willing to make good on Cross’s swindle, I could consider it . . .”

  “I beg your pardon?” Hugh was thunderstruck.

  “Cross cheated my father out of twenty thousand pounds. I want it back.”

  Hugh leaned back and folded his arms, outwardly calm but cursing and raging inside. For all his whining about swindlers, Benwick was apparently no better. Still . . . Edith loved him. Gritting his teeth, Hugh nodded. “I can make her dowry twenty thousand.”

  “No, the half I owe to my father is twenty,” Benwick retorted. “For forty thousand, I shall overlook your unfortunate connection.”

  Hugh came upright in offended outrage. “You can’t be serious.”

  Benwick raised his chin, his cheeks mottled red but his hands trembling. “Perfectly.”

  He couldn’t do that. It would leave him with only ten thousand pounds, and Henrietta making her debut next year. He couldn’t possibly give one sister forty thousand and the other sister only ten, and leave himself, his wife, and his mother with nothing.

  He glared at Benwick in disgust. “So all your talk of affection for my sister was worthless. You should have mentioned sooner that you only viewed her as a potential fortune. I would have shown you the door immediately and saved us both a great deal of trouble.”

  “I do care for Edith!” Now Benwick’s entire face was red. “How dare you, sir!”

  “If you love her, it can’t be much,” said Hugh coldly. “You veer from adoration and eagerness to declaring you would jilt her, and now proclaim that you would choose your family over her every time. But for the princely sum of forty thousand pounds, you’ll take her. That isn’t love, Mr. Benwick, that is haggling like a fishwife.”

  “You don’t understand. You don’t have to choose between following your heart and loyalty to your family!” retorted the young man. “I do love her—I would marry her, even in spite of your noxious connections. But my father is insistent, and he’ll not be placated until Cross’s crime is made right again.”

  Hugh came within a heartbeat of punching him in the face. His hand was in a fist, his weight shifted. One solid punch, right to Reggie Benwick’s perfectly straight nose, would make him feel vastly better. The stupid little coxcomb had no idea what he was talking about. “Loyalty to your family requires you to try extortion? Loyalty to your family requires you to hurt a sweet and loving girl?” Benwick flinched. Hugh gave him a scornful look. “If you come to your senses and wish to have a serious negotiation, you know where to find me. Until then . . . Good day, Mr. Benwick.” He brushed by the other man and left without waiting for a reply.

  But on the street the reality sank in. Edith was going to be jilted. Hugh hoped the boy would have the grace—or shame—to do it gently and privately, but based on Benwick’s behavior today, it seemed unlikely. He pressed a fist against his forehead. He had to warn her. Even though it would make her hate him.

  He put it off as long as possible, but eventually he made his way back home. He wished he could whisk Eliza off to their room and have dinner with only her, then make love to her for the rest of the night. He wished Edith would get swept off her feet by another young man this very night and forget Benwick. Perhaps they should all decamp to Rosemere and shake the dust of London from their feet forever. There were sure to be a few decent gentlemen in Cornwall who would be content with a bride who had ten thousand pounds. He only needed two, one for each sister.

  He stepped into the hall and found chaos. Willy was barking while Eliza, on her knees, held him back. Edith cowered on the stairs, clutching the bannister, her face white with terror.

  “Willy,” he commanded. “Quiet.” The dog stopped barking at his voice, and Eliza took advantage to scoop him into her arms. With an expression of abject apology she hurried to the back of the hall and disappeared toward the kitchen.

  Hugh crossed the hall and took Edith into his arms. She was shaking like a leaf. “Shh,” he whispered.

  “He made so much noise.” Her teeth chattered so hard he could barely make out her words. “Why did she have to bring a dog?”

  “I should have warned you,” he told her, stroking her back. He’d had so much else to worry about, it never crossed his mind to mention Willy to his family. They barely tolerated mention of Eliza.

  “Oh, Hugh.” She looked at him with tears trembling in her eyes. “Can’t she take
him back to Greenwich? Just until I marry Reggie and leave this house?”

  God damn Reginald Benwick. “We’ll think of something to keep the dog away from you.” He glanced at his other sister, who had just come running down the stairs, pale and wide-eyed. “Is Mother in?”

  Henrietta nodded, and rushed back up to fetch her. Edith ran to her mother, and Hugh closed his eyes as his sister’s shoulders shuddered with silent sobs. After a few moments the dowager smoothed back Edith’s hair and made a gentle shushing sound. “What happened, dearest?”

  Edith looked at Hugh with red eyes. “I called on Lady Harlow and Millicent,” she said, naming a neighbor across the square and her daughter, one of Edith’s good friends. “I came into the house and took off my bonnet and that—that dog attacked me!”

  “Attacked!”

  Hugh pinched his nose at his mother’s horrified exclamation. “What did he do, Edith?”

  “He ran into the hall and jumped on me,” she said, her voice trembling. “He seized my reticule and tried to rip it from my arm. He tried to bite me.”

  “He wasn’t trying to bite you,” said Eliza. Hugh looked up to see her standing at the back of the hall, pale but composed. “He would never bite anyone.”

  Edith’s eyes filled with tears. “He did! He bit at my clothes and he barked like a hound from hell!”

  “Did he bite you?” Hugh interrupted. If the dog had bitten someone, he would have to go, no matter how dearly Eliza loved him.

  “He tried!”

  “I am so sorry,” said Eliza softly. She looked as if she would cry.

  “Of course, dear,” said Rose, embracing Edith a little tighter. “Edith was bitten by a dog when she was young. Your dog may not have harmed her, but she was very frightened.”

  “Eliza and I will find a way to keep the dog away, Edith,” said Hugh. “Are you really not hurt?”

  She gave him a look of betrayal, but shook her head. Their mother led Edith upstairs, Henrietta following in cowed silence. Hugh looked at his wife, and held out one hand.

  She came to him without a word. He pulled her into the morning room and shut the door before wrapping his arms around her. She shuddered and clutched at his jacket, and he realized she’d been frightened, too.

  “Willy was not trying to bite her,” she repeated, her voice muffled against his chest. “Her reticule teased him.” She stepped back and showed him Edith’s reticule, a frivolous little work of blue brocade with fringe along the bottom and a charm dangling from the drawstring. Some of the fringe had been torn off by Willy’s eager teeth.

  “That doesn’t justify it.”

  Eliza’s mouth opened in indignation. “Of course not! He was a very bad dog! I only meant to prove that he wasn’t trying to bite her and he didn’t attack her! He only wanted this.” She shook the reticule.

  Hugh sighed. “I know.” He dropped onto the sofa and propped his elbows on his knees. She stood stiffly for a moment, hands in fists about the reticule, but then came and sat beside him. She put her arms around his neck. He turned his head to rest his cheek against her plump bosom and heaved a silent moan of pleasure as her fingers combed gently through his hair.

  “What happened today?” she murmured. “You’re upset.”

  Without opening his eyes, he smiled. “How can you tell that?”

  She laughed, sounding embarrassed. “I just can. I’m so sorry Willy made things worse. I didn’t realize the door was unlatched, and he got out unexpectedly.”

  “I should have warned Edith, and explained to you that Willy should be kept away from her.”

  “I wasn’t letting him run wild. Henrietta told me a large dog bit Edith when she was a child.”

  He sighed again in pleasure. She was digging her fingertips into the tight muscles at the back of his neck, and it felt divine. “She told you that?”

  “Mmm-hmm. She came in to meet Willy earlier. Henrietta likes dogs, she’s simply never been around one. She saw how well-behaved Willy can be.”

  “He must be even better behaved when my mother and Edith are about.”

  “Why does your mother dislike dogs?” she asked softly. He felt her lips press lightly against his temple.

  Hugh leaned his head back and regarded her. There was so much concern and compassion in her face. “Because of what happened to Edith. The dog who bit her left a scar on her leg—not a large one, but my mother was terrified Edith would get an infection. It took a long time to heal.”

  “And that’s why your father banished all dogs from the estate,” Eliza murmured. “What parent would not?”

  He was mildly surprised. “Henrietta told you that, too?”

  She nodded. “I cannot bear to banish Willy entirely, but there is a boy who works in Papa’s stables, the son of our head groom. He’s very good with dogs, especially Willy. If I wrote to Papa and asked him, I feel certain he would let Angus come to us and keep Willy occupied and out of everyone’s way. If you approve,” she finished a bit uncertainly.

  Hugh’s eyebrows went up. “I do approve. That is a very clever thought, Lady Hastings.”

  Her answering smile beamed with happiness. “I want very much to endear myself to your sisters. Not even Willy shall get in the way. And when Edith is married, Angus can return to Greenwich, if we no longer need him.”

  It was like a bucket of ice water in his face. Hugh gathered her close, lowering his face to her bosom. This dress gave a splendid view of her breasts, and he pressed a kiss there, right over her heart. He had spent far too much time today thinking about Edith’s marriage, failing before it began, and not enough time thinking about his own marriage, which was turning out to suit him better and better each day.

  “Enough about all that,” he said. “Have you spent any time today thinking of ways to keep your husband occupied?”

  “Hmm.” She arched her back as he ran his tongue over her skin. “I worked on a plan of refurbishment for this room. I hope to show it to your mother soon.”

  Hugh made a murmur of agreement. Eliza could refurbish the entire house if it made peace with his mother. He slid one hand up to cover her breast. “Perhaps you could start thinking of your husband?”

  Her hands were tangled in his hair. She moved to straddle him, giving him better access to her bosom. “I think of him all day long,” she said breathlessly. “I have to distract myself with upholstery and drapery fabrics to keep from pining away without him.”

  Hugh gave a guttural laugh. It was surprising how much he wanted her, how intoxicating it was that she was in his lap, rocking back and forth without any inhibition whatsoever.

  “Have you thought of me?” she whispered, her hands soft and teasing on his neck.

  “Yes.” At the moment, she was all he could think of. “Rather longingly.”

  “Let me satisfy your longings, then.” Her hand slid down his chest and tugged at the buttons of his trousers.

  Hugh sucked in his breath. “Lady Hastings,” he managed to say. “Where did you learn this behavior?”

  She blushed. “Sophie told me. Do you like it?”

  For answer he pushed up her skirts and made love to her right there on the sofa, holding her astride his lap and showing her how to ride him. It was hard and fast and over too soon, but as she shuddered in his arms, Hugh clasped her to his chest and had just one thought:

  What a damned stroke of luck that he’d married her.

  Chapter 20

  Eliza went down to breakfast full of determination.

  As before, she heard voices in the breakfast room. As before, she went in with a smile on her face. “Good morning,” she said, this time without hesitation. She belonged here now. She was the Countess of Hastings, even if it still made her head spin to think so, and in the few days since her wedding, she had remembered something Sophie once told her: everyone else will believe your pose if you do.

  Today she thought she understood the animosity in Edith’s face. Henrietta gave her a tentative smile, which was progress, an
d Lady Hastings bowed her head. “Good morning, dear.”

  Eliza took her seat at the foot of the table and turned directly to Edith. “I want to apologize again for my dog,” she said earnestly. “He wasn’t trying to bite you, only to grab your reticule. That is not an excuse,” she added as Edith’s expression turned hostile. “It was wrong of him, and I only say it to assure you that he is not a danger to anyone. Only to reticules with intriguing little things dangling off them.”

  Henrietta stifled a smile, and Eliza’s spirits soared. “I also want you to know I plan to keep Willy well out of your way,” she told Edith.

  “How?” the girl asked stiffly. “Are you sending him back to Greenwich?”

  “No, I’ve asked my father to send Angus, a boy from the stables there who is good with Willy. It will be his job to look after the dog.” She looked at the dowager. “I’ve spoken to Cook, Mrs. Greene, and Wilkins about it. Willy will still sleep in my chamber, and Angus will sleep in the old nursery, where he can fetch him easily and without disturbing anyone.”

  The older woman glanced at Edith, her brows raised. Edith lowered her gaze to her plate and murmured, “Thank you.”

  “Of course,” cried Eliza in relief. “We are sisters now, Edith.”

  Somehow that was the wrong thing to say. Edith’s spine stiffened, and she gave the barest nod without meeting Eliza’s gaze.

  She swallowed a burst of frustration. She wanted so much to be cordial, if not friendly, with Edith and had no idea what she was doing wrong. She would have to be patient, it seemed.

  “Lady Hastings.” She turned to her mother-in-law. “Hugh told me this house hasn’t been decorated in quite a while.”

  The other woman’s face froze. “No,” she murmured.

  “He told me there were tenants the last few years, when your family didn’t come to London.” Eliza kept her voice calm and sympathetic. The last thing she wanted to do was offend the dowager. “I expect the house suffered some wear in that time.”