Tamed by the Earl

by Carole Mortimer

  Daniel could only imagine the possible dangers to be found there for a boy as delicate-looking as Jo Turner. At least physically; verbally the boy could probably out-swear a fishwife. “You know there will be further trouble between him and Bates?”

  “I’ll keep an eye on it, my lord.” Haynes nodded. “The main thing to know about Jo, my lord, is that he has a way with the horses. Lady Midnight and her foal in particular flourish under his care.”

  Daniel laughed at the unhidden slyness of this last comment: Haynes knew of his weakness for the glossy black mare. “Very well, Haynes, I will give your protégé the benefit of the doubt for the moment. As long as you do something about his appearance and aroma before sending him up to the house to talk with me,” he added with a shudder for the memory of that lingering smell.

  He put the urchin Jo Turner and those huge blue eyes firmly from his mind as he followed Haynes into the stable, where Lady Midnight proudly displayed her new foal to him.

  Chapter 2

  Jo fidgeted with her borrowed—and clean—jacket as she waited in the hallway outside the earl’s study. The butler, having knocked, was now waiting for the earl to acknowledge their presence and grant them entry.

  An hour or more had passed since their unorthodox meeting in the stable yard. An hour during which Mr. Haynes had borrowed the clean clothing from one of the other stable lads and organized a tin bath and hot water be brought up to her room over the stables. The towel brought with the bath and hot water was soft, the soap hard and providing little in the way of lather. But it did possess the pleasant aroma of lavender.

  Previously a lady who liked to bathe daily, Jo had been unable to resist the lure of the hot water and perfumed soap after weeks of being able to wash only the parts of her others could not see. She had even chuckled ruefully as, once her clothes were removed, it became perfectly obvious that she was a fully mature female aged five and twenty rather than a young boy.

  Without the strapping about her chest to confine her breasts, they were clearly full and pert. The removal of the too-large clothing also revealed her waist as being slender, her hips curvaceous, and thighs and legs shapely.

  Sinking down into the steaming-hot bathwater had been pure bliss after so many weeks of being deliberately dirty. Washing the grease and dirt from her hair even more so.

  Except, without that mask of dirt to hide behind, she still felt naked, despite now wearing the borrowed clothing.

  And vulnerable.

  She had no idea how vulnerable without the aid of a mirror.

  It was for that reason she had slunk away from the stables before anyone saw her, going up to the house and entering through the kitchen to go in search of the butler so he could present her to the earl. Bedford was so poker-faced, it was impossible to tell what he thought of any change in her appearance.

  “Come in,” the earl invited.

  Jo’s heart sank, the moment of truth unerringly presenting itself as the butler ushered her into the earl’s study. The earl was occupied with some account books on his desktop, not even glancing up as Jo remained standing self-consciously near to the door the butler had just closed behind her as he left her alone in the room with their employer.

  The earl had also obviously taken advantage of the past hour to wash and tidy his own appearance and don fresh clothing. He now wore a superfine of dark blue, his white linen crisp. That dark auburn hair was no longer disheveled but brushed into a style which framed his harsh and handsome features.

  Daniel finished reading the last of the monthly estate accounts in the open ledger on his desktop before sitting back to look at his newest employee. “Fucking hell…” The expletive was purely involuntary as he found himself gazing at a golden-haired angel.

  He had believed the boy would clean up suitably well, but he had not imagined quite such a transformation at this. Jo Turner was… Well, there was no other word for it: the lad was beautiful.

  His shoulder-length and slightly curling hair, although tied back with a piece of string, was revealed as being the color of burnished gold. His skin was as pale as fine porcelain, and his features even more delicate than Daniel had imagined they might be: finely arched brows, those huge blue eyes surrounded by thick lashes, a small straight nose, lips full and the color of deep rose. He was also much slighter than he had appeared in the ill-fitting clothes earlier, adding to his air of delicacy.

  With the revelation of this almost unearthly beauty came the unwelcome thought of another reason why the boy might have received a beating before coming to Latham Park, and afterward preferred to hide his appearance beneath layers of dirt and baggy clothing. An unpleasant thought added to by Daniel having noted the boy’s beauty himself, both earlier and now.

  And perhaps also the reason Jo had attacked Mickey Bates?

  The lad shifted uncomfortably. “Summit wrong, me lord?”

  Daniel remained seated behind his desk, a scowl replacing his previous astonishment. “Come further into the room and tell me about yourself,” he invited gruffly.

  Jo eyed him warily as she scuffed her booted feet reluctantly across the room until she stood in front of the earl’s imposing desk, still slightly unnerved by the earl’s outburst upon first seeing her again. The man seated behind the desk was no less imposing, the earl seeming even larger and broader in the confines of his study. “Not much to tell.” She shuffled from one foot to the other.

  His eyes narrowed. “Nevertheless, I should like to hear it.”

  As she bathed, Jo had given a lot of thought as to what she should tell this man if asked. Not the truth, certainly. If Daniel Somersby ever realized she was a female and cousin to the new Duke of Cheshire, then he would have no choice but to contact Cousin Edgar and inform the other man as to her presence on his estate. Something, remembering the avaricious desire on Edgar’s face when he informed her that he and Owen Pendleton would be visiting her bedchamber that very night, Jo dared not risk. At any price.

  She gave an insolent shrug. “I’m the tenf of fourteen children. Not sure who me Da was, an’ I don’t fink me Ma was neither when she ’as so many gentlemen friends.” She gave an unconcerned grin.

  The earl’s expression remained impassive. “Your age?”

  “Nineteen, me lord.”

  He raised skeptical brows. “As your voice has not even broken yet, perhaps you would like to attempt answering that again?”

  “Awright, sixteen,” she corrected moodily.

  “You are originally from London?”

  “S’right, me lord.”

  “And what did you do with yourself in London?”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Do, me lord?”

  He sighed his impatience. “What work did you do there?”

  “Oh.” She nodded. “This and that.”

  A nerve pulsed in his jaw. “I am endeavoring to be polite to you, Jo. I suggest you pay me the same courtesy.”

  There was no mistaking the steely edge beneath the earl’s pleasant tone. As a reminder to Jo that not only was he an earl but also her employer, and as such, perfectly at liberty to ask her whatever questions he chose. And to expect she answer them.

  She gave another shrug of her shoulders. “Once I was old enough, I did what me older bruvvers did.”

  “Did they look like you?”

  Her frown was one of genuine puzzlement. “I don’t unnerstand, me lord?”

  His jaw tightened. “What was the occupation of your older bruv…brothers?” he corrected irritably.

  “Pickpocket.”

  Latham closed his eyes briefly before answering her. “That is not an occupation, lad, it is a crime.”

  Jo shoved her hands into the pockets of her borrowed trousers. “Ma’s too old for gentleman friends now, and we ’ad to feed ourselves some ’ow.”

  “And did you… Did any of your family consider taking up your mother’s profession?”

  “Me sisters, ya mean?”

  “Any of you.”

  Jo’s lif
e with her grandfather had necessarily been a sheltered one, with little in the way of entertainment or opportunity to gossip, apart from the few of the local gentry Grandfather had occasionally invited to the hall for dinner. And that had been very occasionally, possibly once or twice a year.

  Consequently, Jo was not quite sure what the earl meant by his last question.

  “Has anyone… Is the reason you fought Bates because he made…advances to you?”

  Oh.

  “Not bloody likely,” she denied vehemently.

  Daniel had breathed an inward sigh of relief as Jo Turner’s puzzlement turned to wide-eyed shock, further answering the question for him. Although why this ragamuffin should be shocked by male prostitution, he had no idea. The backstreets of London were filled with houses of ill-repute catering to all their clients’ tastes, including young boys like Jo. Well, perhaps not exactly like Jo. He doubted any of them were quite this beautiful.

  Daniel stood up restlessly to cross the room and stand in front of the window, his back to the room as he spoke again. “Haynes tells me you have a way with horses.”

  “I enjoy the work, yes.” Jo Turner’s voice sounded even more feminine when Daniel wasn’t actually looking at the boy.

  He turned to avoid that misconception, clasping his hands behind his back as a shaft of sunlight on the boy’s golden hair almost resulted in him having a halo.

  A halo, by God, for a self-confessed pickpocket!

  Daniel gave a self-disgusted snort at such fanciful thinking. “Would you like to continue to enjoy such work?”

  Not surprisingly, the boy was eyeing him warily after his earlier remarks. “Er…yes, me lord.”

  Daniel nodded abruptly. “Then in future, you will bathe daily. You will also put on clean clothing every morning. Nor, for any reason, will you indulge in further fisticuffs with Mickey Bates.”

  The boy looked resentful. “What if ’e starts it?”

  “Then it will be your turn to be the bigger man and turn the other cheek before walking away.”

  Considering how unpleasant Mickey liked to make things for her, Jo wasn’t sure she could do that. “But—”

  “You will do these things, Jo, or you will find yourself seeking other employment.”

  Her chin tilted rebelliously. “Am I to report to ya each mornin’, then, so as ya can make sure I’m doin’ as I’ve been told?”

  The earl’s lips thinned. “You will find yourself facedown over my knee each morning if you continue to talk to me in that insolent tone!”

  Jo felt the mortified color heat her cheeks. At least, she believed it was caused by mortification…

  An uncomfortable heat had suffused the whole of her body at the thought of this man putting her over his knee and spanking her. A response which confused her. Her grandfather might have been eccentric, but he had also been the kindest of men. Even when she had been a young and mischievous child, he would never have contemplated spanking her, no matter what her misdemeanor.

  Jo found her gaze lowering to the earl’s strong and muscular thighs, imagining herself lying across them while one of his long and elegant hands administered the threatened punishment to her bottom.

  The heat inside her intensified and seemed to become centered between her thighs.

  Daniel regretted issuing the threat as soon as he had made it. Not only because it went completely against his nature—he had never once spanked his son, George, when he was growing up—but also because it had created an air of intimacy in the room which was decidedly uncomfortable. An intimacy added to by having Jo Turner’s gaze slide down and become fixed on Daniel’s thighs. As if the boy were imagining himself lying across them while having his backside spanked.

  Daniel’s nostrils flared, and he instantly breathed in the scent of lavender emitting from the boy’s clean body and hair. “You will do as I have instructed, or, as I have already stated, you will cease continuing to work here,” he warned harshly, as angry with himself as he was with Jo. “I cannot have one of my servants spreading germs and disease because they are too slothful to wash.”

  Temper flared in those huge blue eyes. “I’m a stable boy, not a servant.”

  He raised his brows. So, the boy did not like being referred to as a servant. Interesting in one who must surely have been at the lower end of even the lowest society all his life. A boy who confessed his mother had been a prostitute.

  Still, there was nothing wrong with pride. Or in wanting to better oneself. “You are quite right, Jo. I apologize if I insulted you.”

  “Nor do I ’ave any disease,” he added resentfully.

  “I apologize again.”

  “And I ain’t slothful neither.”

  Daniel found it impossible not to smile at this boy’s indignation. “I think two apologies from me in one day will have to suffice, Jo.”

  The lad’s wariness increased rather than lessened. “Why ya being nice to me?”

  It took every effort of will on Daniel’s part not to snap a reply. He was tired from his days of travel and out of sorts still from having to break up the fight in his stable yard. Of which this boy had been one of the perpetrators. “Would you rather I was mean to you instead?”

  There was a shrug of those narrow shoulders. “It’s what I’m used to.”

  “Then I suggest you become unused to it, because it is past time you learned some manners as well as how to take care of yourself. As such, you will report to me each morning. At which time, I will satisfy myself you are clean and tidy, and then we will go to the stables together, where you will report to me on Lady Midnight’s progress.”

  “Mr. Haynes—”

  “Has already informed me you are now the one I should talk to regarding Lady Midnight and her foal.”

  The lad eyed him with suspicion. “You pokin’ fun at me?”

  Daniel was no longer sure what he was doing. Something about this boy unnerved and disturbed him. Probably that unearthly beauty. But his tale was also one of hardship, with little future prospects for him if Daniel dismissed him as he instinctively wished to do.

  So instead of dismissing him, he was instead making the boy as much his protégé as Haynes had?

  Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.

  This boy was not his enemy, damn it. An irritation, certainly, but not an enemy.

  “Not in the least,” he dismissed.

  The boy still looked at him warily. “Sounded like it.”

  “I assure you I was not. You may return to your work in the stable now.” Daniel resumed his seat behind the desk as further indication the conversation was over.

  “I just ’ad a baff!”

  Counting to ten before answering did not take nearly long enough. “And tomorrow, you will take another one.”

  “An’ whose goin’ to keep hefting that ’ot water up and down them bleedin’ stairs to me sleepin’ quarters? Not you, I guarantee— What ya doin’?” Jo began to back away as Daniel surged to his feet and walked toward her, his expression one of grim determination.

  Leading her to question whether she had perhaps gone a little too far in her disguise as Jo Turner, street urchin turned stable lad, with this last outburst.

  She backed away. “You goin’ to spank me now?”

  The earl came to a halt just inches away from where Jo had come up against one of the bookcases lining the walls. “Believe me, nothing would give me greater pleasure,” he bit out tensely.

  Her chin rose, enabling her to look straight into eyes of emerald green. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “I really do not think you would.”

  She gave a sniff. “I didn’t do nuffin’.”

  “Nothing. You did not do no—anything,” the earl corrected himself impatiently.

  “I did not do anything,” Jo enunciated carefully and obediently. “None of the other lads ’as to have a baff daily,” she complained. “Besides, I can’t ask the maids to bring me water every day, and I can’t do it on m
e own neither.” She could just imagine the backlash she would receive from Mickey if she was shown any preferential treatment by the earl. “Can’t I just ’ave a wash down by the river like the rest of ’em do?” Her secret should be safe as long as she chose a time of day when none of the other stable lads were making use of the river to wash.

  The earl closed his eyes briefly before looking at her once again. “If you promise you will wash every day and have a bath once a week.”

  She nodded. “Promise.”

  Daniel wasn’t sure he altogether trusted Jo’s easy acquiescence, but it mattered little when he would be able to see for himself as to whether or not Jo was carrying out his side of the bargain.

  And if he didn’t, was Daniel really going to put the boy over his knee and spank him?

  He studied those enormous blue eyes looking into his, the pert nose, pale cheeks, and lips the color of deep rose, and knew he would be playing with fire if he so much as laid a finger on—

  Bloody fucking hell!

  These strange emotions churning inside him were totally unacceptable. Intolerable. Incomprehensible. The final humiliation would have been if he had suffered a cock stand to add to this mix of emotions. Thank God he had not.

  He stepped away abruptly. “Go,” he rasped.

  “What time shall I—”

  “I said go, damn it!”

  Jo went.

  Chapter 3

  Jo had to admit it had become pleasant this past week to be clean again. She’d taken a bit of teasing initially from the other lads about her “pretty-boy looks” but they soon grew used to the change in her appearance and they now left her alone.

  Except Mickey.

  But Mickey’s antagonism toward Jo owed nothing to her “pretty-boy looks,” as he called them, and everything to the fact that Mr. Haynes had given her sole care of Lady Midnight after the birth of her foal ten days ago. As one of the senior stable boys, Mickey believed, as the mare was a particular favorite with the earl, the privilege should have been his. He might be right, but Lady Midnight stomped and stamped her hooves in displeasure every time Mickey went anywhere near her, and nuzzled and slobbered over Jo at every opportunity.