An Earl Like You

by Caroline Linden

  “Then tell her, before she makes a fool of herself,” she urged. “She still loves him and has no idea he’s about to desert her. She might say or do something humiliating. You must tell her, Hugh.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

  “If you don’t tell her, she’ll feel horribly betrayed and upset when she discovers not only Mr. Benwick’s change of heart, but that you knew about it and didn’t warn her,” Eliza added softly.

  With a muttered curse, he turned and paced away from her, swinging around in front of the windows. “Why are you so upset about this?”

  Eliza fluttered one hand in helplessness. “Do you think I’m wrong? You know your sister better than I do.”

  He glared at her, but did not argue.

  She crossed the room to him. “She can survive the loss of Mr. Benwick. You will always be her brother, though, and you don’t want her memory of this time to be that you lied to her.”

  A visible shudder went through him. “No.”

  “So you’ll tell her? Even a hint that it may happen?” She stepped closer and put her hand on his arm. “I know it will be difficult . . .”

  He flinched away from her touch. Eliza froze, but Hugh turned and pulled her into his arms, resting his cheek atop her head. “It will be awful,” he said with a heavy sigh. “But of course I’ll do it. I have to. I planned to all along, you know. But I dread it.”

  She snaked her arms around his waist. Her heart felt full. “No one likes to be deceived,” she said. “Edith will be glad you told her, eventually.”

  He said nothing for a long moment. “If she doesn’t, it would be no more than I deserve.”

  “No!” She looked up at him. “She’ll forgive you.”

  His eyes were dark and brooding. “Will she? Would you?”

  “Of course!” she cried. “As long as you were honest with me, I would always forgive you.”

  He smiled, but it was grim. “I hope you’re right about that.”

  Chapter 22

  Hugh felt himself sinking through the levels of hell.

  His solicitor had heard nothing from the Livingston solicitors. It had been a slim hope, but now even it was gone, as his deadline arrived and passed. He’d been bracing himself for the nightmare of telling Edith, and then Eliza had to pour salt on the wound by speaking of honesty.

  Damn Edward Cross. Now Hugh began to wish Cross had told his daughter all about his plan to snare an earl for her; then there wouldn’t be a lie infecting his conscience, eating away at him every day.

  He found Edith in the library with Henrietta. They were decorating bonnets, talking and laughing and holding up their creations for approval from each other. He watched them for a moment, Henrietta dark and impish, Edith fair and graceful. They were so happy in this moment. He was glad for that, after their father’s death and the move to London and the upheaval of his marriage. If only he wasn’t about to spoil it.

  Henrietta looked up. “Hugh! Are you spying on us?”

  Edith laughed. “As ever! Although how anyone could be unnoticed with that hideous waistcoat is beyond me.”

  Hugh smoothed one hand down his front. “I thought the green was very fashionable.” Edith made a face at him. “I wonder what you’re doing wrong, to fear being spied upon, Henrietta.”

  “New bonnets! Look, isn’t it darling?” Henrietta held up her creation.

  “As a hedgehog,” Hugh agreed, earning a gasp and a wrinkled nose from his sister. “Hen . . . May I have a word with Edith?”

  “Uh-oh,” murmured Henrietta merrily. “Thank goodness I’m not the one in trouble!”

  Edith frowned as Henrietta gathered her things and left. Hugh closed the door and took Henrietta’s chair beside his sister. “I’m not in trouble, am I?” she asked warily.

  “Should you be?”

  She flushed. “I’ve done my best to be civil to Eliza.”

  Hugh raised one brow. “It sounds as though you’ve not been successful.”

  “I don’t like that dog!” burst out his sister in a low, tense voice.

  “Is that all?” he asked.

  She yanked on a ribbon in her lap. “Reggie says her father is despicable.”

  Hugh breathed deeply. “About Reggie . . . Edith, I’m afraid he’s being difficult.”

  Her face went white. “Difficult? How?”

  The rest of the conversation went as Hugh had feared. Edith first refused to believe it, then angrily accused him of being tightfisted. Only when Hugh told her Benwick’s demand did she fall back in her seat, shocked and silent.

  “He said he wouldn’t marry me for less than forty thousand pounds?” she asked in a small voice.

  Hugh nodded once.

  “But—but—” Her chest was heaving. “But he loves me! He said so! Hugh, he declared it in front of others . . .”

  “I don’t think he meant it,” said Hugh. “Not really.”

  Edith shook her head, at first slowly, then harder. “No. No, no, no. He did mean it, he just—he just—” She sucked in her breath. “It’s because of her, isn’t it?”

  Hugh lied without hesitation or compunction. “It’s because of his father. Livingston wants money—he required Benwick to promise him half of your dowry funds. I told Benwick to stand on his own feet and think of you, and he said he would choose his family over you every time. That’s how much he cares for you, Edith.”

  “But he hates—” she began.

  “Do not say a word against Eliza,” Hugh cut in to warn her. “She is my wife. Reginald Benwick can despise her all he wants, but if that caused him to break your betrothal, he’s not worthy of you anyway.”

  She stared at him, tears shining in her blue eyes. “I’ve been jilted? Jilted?”

  “I expect that’s why he hasn’t called,” said Hugh quietly. “He hasn’t got the decency or the courage to tell you himself.”

  “He might change his mind . . .”

  He sighed. “Would you still want him after this?”

  For answer she jumped up and ran. He heard a choked sob as she wrestled with the door, then she was gone. He looked at the half-finished bonnet she’d left on the chair. The raspberry-pink ribbons were so cheerfully innocent, it made him want to pitch the thing into the fire.

  He lurched out of his chair and went to find his mother. She was supervising the painting of the drawing room, but he drew her aside and told her what had happened. Horrified, she declared she must go to Edith at once, and hurried out.

  Hugh watched the workmen patching holes and scrapes in the plaster walls, preparing to cover them with fresh green color. Chosen by Eliza, funded by Eliza, and planned by Eliza to win his mother’s approval and affection. For the first time Hugh felt a perverse—and wholly irrational—surge of anger at her. She was too good for all of them. They couldn’t seem to do anything right. He married to give his sister a dowry, and she got jilted because of his marriage. His mother venerated his father, never once questioning him about anything, and Joshua left them all in bankrupt ignorance. Edith turned her back on Eliza to please Benwick, and still got her heart broken. And Eliza . . . All she did was think of others and give freely of herself and her time, from cutting flowers for a servant’s wedding to giving Hugh her heart when he didn’t deserve it.

  Where was she?

  The butler told him she had gone out with the dog. Hugh put on his hat and coat and went after her, feeling even worse because she had to leave the house to enjoy Willy’s company. He crossed Pall Mall and went into St. James’s Park, finally catching sight of her near the canal. Willy ran around her, his black-and-white tail streaming behind him like a flag, and Angus, the boy from her father’s stable, chased after him.

  Something very odd filled his chest at the sight of his wife. She stooped to pick up a ball, and her skirts wrapped around her legs and hips enticingly. She stood and drew back her arm, and the curve of her bosom was outlined in glorious silhouette as she flung the ball for the dog to chase. His hands f
lexed at the memory of those curves against him, of her soft skin under his lips, of the way her eyes widened in amazement every time she reached climax in his arms.

  She was the wife he hadn’t wanted. She was the girl he’d been blackmailed into marrying. He had been forced to court her and seduce her, winning her love by pretending an affection he hadn’t felt, and now the joke was on him. Now he was the one seduced, just by watching her throw the ball across the park for Willy. Now he was the one losing his heart and feeling the weight of his deception like a cross upon his back.

  She didn’t see him until he had almost reached her. “Oh!” Her smile was bright and delighted, lighting up her face. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  He kept walking, his gaze fixed on her. Damn Edward Cross. Hugh deserved a society heiress who would give him his heir and then take a stream of lovers. Someone who wouldn’t tempt him to think wicked thoughts about her and feel unworthy of her in the same moment.

  Her face changed. “What is wrong?” Willy ran up with the ball, tail wagging furiously, and she motioned Angus to come get him. “Hugh, what is it?” she asked anxiously as he reached her side.

  “I told Edith.”

  Eliza’s expression melted with sympathy. “The poor dear. How did she . . . ?”

  “Not well.”

  “Oh dear.” She bit her lip. “Think how much worse it would have been for her to hear it from someone else, though.”

  He had. But Hugh felt the surge of anger again, even though there was no one to focus it on. Eliza had been right to press him to tell Edith, and he’d been wrong to put it off. He was no better than his father, trying to protect his mother and sisters from everything unpleasant, and as a result the news came as a sudden blow to Edith. Yet another thing he’d done wrong. “I hope that’s the end of it.”

  “Georgiana would say she ought to go out and flirt with other gentlemen. Nothing diverts a girl’s mind like an attentive new suitor.”

  Hugh looked at her sharply. Eliza wore a hopeful little smile; she’d been teasing. It dropped away when she saw his face. “I’m sorry,” she said at once. “I didn’t mean to make light—”

  “No, no. You’ve no need to apologize.” Willy ran back with the ball, dropping it at his mistress’s feet despite Angus’s shouts for him to come. Hugh bent and scooped up the ball, flinging it as hard as he could. Willy took off with a joyful bark. The ball landed in the canal. Across the grass, Angus gave a whoop and followed Willy, who plunged into the water and sent ducks squawking out of the way.

  Hugh laughed. “He’ll need a bath now.”

  Eliza didn’t reply. He looked at her; she was watching him somberly, her green eyes shadowed.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Was I wrong?” she asked quietly. “About Edith?”

  He scowled. “No.”

  “Do you resent me urging you to speak to her?”

  Damn it all, he did—utterly without reason or justification. “No.”

  She didn’t believe him. She was too insightful for him, too. And suddenly Hugh wished he could begin anew with her. No more lies, he reminded himself. “Yes. I did resent it,” he admitted harshly. “Not because I thought you were wrong but because I knew you were right. I didn’t want to break my sister’s heart. I kept hoping Benwick would come to his senses and be reasonable—and spare me the hard task of telling her. I would have even been cowardly content for him to tell Edith that he no longer wanted to marry her.”

  “Because you love her.” Eliza reached for him. “Of course you don’t want to hurt her.”

  “I wanted to protect her, as my father would have done.” Hugh gave a humorless laugh at that irony. He put his hands on his hips, subtly evading her touch. “Instead I made it worse.”

  “No! Mr. Benwick made it horrible,” she said firmly. “He’s the villain here, proposing marriage and telling her he loved her and then changing his mind. You were very fair and patient with him, but he’s the one who broke Edith’s heart, not you.”

  “Eliza.” He took a deep breath and took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. She had said she would forgive him if he were honest, after all. “Part of Benwick’s change of heart involved you. He—or rather, his father despises your father. They had an unfortunate business dealing at some point, I gather.”

  All the color drained from her face. She stepped back and tugged, but Hugh refused to let her go. “That’s why Edith hates me,” she whispered.

  “Most likely,” he agreed. “Which is no good reflection on her. I thought she would realize it when she knew you. I thought Benwick cared for her enough to rebuff his father. I thought . . .” He fell silent, realizing how inane his excuses sounded. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said. I wanted to protect you, too.

  “Hugh,” she said in agony. “How could you not tell me that? I would have spoken to her . . .”

  “And said what?” Again he resisted her attempt to pull free. “Livingston is being irrational. Benwick is choosing his father over Edith. That puts the lie to his claim to love her, and if this is the way he treats her, it’s far better that she learn it now, before she’s his wife and bound to him forever. If anything, Edith should be relieved.”

  “Of course she won’t be!” Eliza protested. “Not when her heart is broken . . .”

  “Her love was wasted on him.” Just as yours has been wasted on me so far.

  She looked at him in reproach, but stopped arguing. “The poor girl,” she said softly. “How it must have hurt her.”

  Hugh expelled his breath. Even after what he’d told her, even after the way Edith had treated her, she felt sympathy and kindness for his sister. His sense that she was too good for him roared back. “Even if he came to me on his knees, I wouldn’t let him marry her now. He’s proven himself inconstant and callous and my sister deserves better.” As do you, he silently promised his wife. “And now I am done speaking and thinking of Reginald Benwick. Do you have a dress for the theater?”

  She blinked. “Yes, but—but Edith—”

  “Edith will recover. You told me so,” he reminded her. “Tonight I would like to take my wife to the theater, if she’ll go with me.”

  A fine blush colored her cheeks. “Of course.”

  He grinned and raised her hand for an impulsive kiss. He watched her face as he grazed his lips across her knuckles; her own lips parted and her eyes softened and warmed. She was in love with him. Hugh’s conscience twinged painfully. He should tell her the whole truth now and throw himself on her mercy. At this point he deserved a storm of tears and recriminations—followed, he hoped, by forgiveness.

  But Willy ran up and dropped the ball on her skirt, and she jumped back with an exclamation, pulling free of Hugh’s grip. He watched as she scolded the dog and made him sit before handing the ball to Angus and sending the two of them off again.

  By the time she turned back to him his resolve had weakened. When I have become worthy of her, he promised himself, then I can tell her. Once I’ve atoned for the lies I told her in the beginning. Once I’ve sorted out what I really feel for her, it will all be much easier to explain.

  And so he said nothing.

  Chapter 23

  Eliza made several excuses for the fact that Hugh hadn’t told her the truth. It wasn’t an outright lie, merely an omission. He didn’t want her to be hurt, she reminded herself; his reluctance had been real. If Mr. Benwick’s dislike was entirely because of Papa, there was nothing Eliza could do about it anyway.

  But while she could understand Edith choosing to side with the man she intended to marry—the man she believed loved her—Eliza couldn’t deny a sharp little pain that Edith had done so with such vigor. She had very willingly and quickly turned a cold shoulder to her brother’s bride even though she adored Hugh and he adored her. Georgiana had called Edith a snob, and Eliza felt horrible for thinking it must be a little bit true.

  She was trying to be kind and understanding to her sister-in-law, and t
his unquestionably stung. It would be obnoxious to repay Edith in kind, but Eliza couldn’t help taking some of Georgiana’s advice. She would hold up her head and be strong, and not let any slight cow her. She was a countess now, Hugh’s countess—incredible thought—and she must rise to the demands of her position.

  However, there was one thing she could do that didn’t require any fortitude or bravery on her part. “Papa, did you have any business dealings with Lord Livingston?” she asked her father when he came for his weekly visit. It was safe to do so, because everyone else was away from home by a stroke of luck.

  “Livingston!” Her father looked surprised. “Why do you want to know about him?”

  “So you did.” She sipped her tea, watching him over the rim of the cup. “What went wrong?”

  His mouth quirked. “I never said I knew the man.”

  “You didn’t deny it,” she pointed out. “I know you, Papa. What did you do that he didn’t like?”

  “Did Hastings put you up to this?”

  “No, why would he?” she asked, startled. But then she realized. “He spoke to you about Livingston, too, didn’t he?” Hugh would have tried everything to save his sister’s engagement.

  Her father waved one hand. “Once. I told him it was nothing significant and he let it go.”

  “It was not insignificant,” she told him. “Lord Livingston’s son was engaged to marry Lady Edith.”

  “I know.”

  “Lord Livingston is holding a grudge against you.”

  “Idiot,” muttered her father.

  “Papa!”

  “What else can I say?” Scowling, he put down his cup of coffee. “Livingston bought shares in a tin mine—one of Grenville’s schemes.” She just looked at him in reproach. He sighed. “The tin mine closed a year later. Livingston probably lost his stake. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “I want to hear the truth. Were they your shares?”

  “I didn’t make him buy them,” said Papa. “He came to me. Quite insistent he was, too, and offered me a premium for them. Was I supposed to refuse?”