Intentions of the Earl

by Rose Gordon

  “Thank you,” Brooke said quietly when Andrew was helping her in the carriage.

  “For what?” Andrew asked, perplexed.

  “For inviting Madison, you didn’t have to.”

  “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. She looked rather disappointed that she didn’t get to go sew for the poor. I thought coming with us might brighten her day. Plus, maybe she’ll feel compelled to sew me something,” he teased.

  Brooke gave him a bright smile then took her seat in the carriage.

  With four people in the earl’s carriage it felt quite snug, yet comfortable. Andrew took advantage of the close proximity and his large size by innocently sprawling out, claiming that he needed more space. Brooke was skeptical, but didn’t question it; especially when he lightly pressed his thigh against hers. She knew she should not enjoy such contact, but she did anyway.

  Sitting so close to him, Brooke noticed his masculine scent. He smelled of the outdoors, like woods and trees and such. She had not smelled very many gentlemen who naturally smelled this way. She knew it had to be natural, not an oil mixed into his shaving water, his skin color and actions virtually screamed it.

  During the half hour ride to the museum from the townhouse Andrew talked with Mama, who asked him to call her Carolina, and Madison. They were entertaining him with stories of America and their friends and family back home. Meanwhile, she was entertaining herself with thoughts of the earl’s body, which was boldly pressing against hers again. Even through her gown and his breeches she could feel the firm muscles in his thigh. She wondered what they would feel like if she ran her hand over them. She quickly admonished herself for the thoughts. However, she was having a hard time tearing her eyes off the object of her imagination. She looked at his thighs, they were practically bulging under his buckskin trousers, yet the seams were not ripping with every move like she thought they might.

  She was pulled from her daydream by a light and well placed tap on her foot. Startled, she looked up, and met Madison’s knowing eyes. Madison didn’t say a word, but her face said a thousand. Brooke had just been caught staring at the earl’s legs by her younger sister! She flushed with embarrassment.

  Brooke looked at Mama; she clearly hadn’t noticed what Brooke had been staring at. A quick glance at Andrew’s face told her he had. Brooke quickly averted her eyes; she wasn’t going to let him get the better of her today.

  For the rest of the carriage ride Brooke looked at either Mama or Madison, trying not to let her eyes connect with any part of Andrew.

  The British Museum looked magnificent, and so far all they had seen was just the outside. Walking inside, Brooke was overwhelmed. Dozens of people were milling around, going from one exhibit to another. Some artifacts were on display behind glass and others were just roped off with beautiful red velvet ropes.

  The four of them looked at the exhibits together. They saw some old maps and compasses sailors used centuries before. They looked at some ancient Greek drawings. Then they walked over to some legal documents several centuries old that were out on display. So much history was on display here that Brooke realized there was no way they would be able to see everything today. That just meant another visit was in order, Brooke thought with a little smile.

  “If it would be agreeable with your chaperone, I would like to show you the sword room,” Andrew said then waited for Mama to give her approval.

  “Go on,” Mama urged. “Madison and I will be over here looking at these beautiful golden goblets. They are absolutely stunning, don’t you agree, Madison?”

  Andrew led Brooke down the hall, around a corner, and into a room that had absolutely no swords in it. Instead, the room was completely empty except a statue in the back corner of the room.

  “I thought we were going to look at swords,” Brooke said, walking around the room looking for a sword. Why would he bring her to a virtually empty room?

  “I thought maybe we could have a little privacy. That is, unless you truly were interested in seeing some ancient swords,” Andrew replied, walking to go stand beside Brooke who was now over in front of the statue.

  “No, this statue is far more interesting than any old sword ever could be, that’s for sure,” she managed, looking at the statue in complete awe.

  The statue was of a man holding a spear. Other than the spear, there was nothing else sculpted, just a very muscular man standing naked holding a spear.

  Brooke had never seen a naked man in real life or a drawing before. This was the closest she had come, and being as innocent as she was about a man’s form, this was fascinating to her. She marveled at how different this man’s body was than hers, even if he were made of stone. She was thin and had slender arms and legs, but this sculpture had thick arms and legs that were bulging muscles. His chest and stomach were flat, with bumps of rippled muscles. She noticed that the man had hair under his arms, a little on his chest and quite a bit surrounding a part she’d never seen before that rested between his thighs. For Brooke, the statue held a higher level of appeal than swords ever could.

  She heard Andrew chuckle when he reached her side and saw what she was looking at, but it didn’t stop her looking. She couldn’t take her eyes off the statue. She looked the statue over up and down, down and up, twice before breaking her line of vision. Then she turned and saw Andrew’s piercing eye. He had been watching her! She thought he was looking at the statue, not her. She tried to keep a straight face and not show any signs of being embarrassed, she’d sworn to herself he that he wasn’t going to get the better of her today, and she was going to make sure of it.

  “See something of interest?” he asked. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were a shade darker than usual.

  “Yes, this statue is quite extraordinary,” Brooke answered as evenly as she could.

  Andrew leaned closer to read the plaque next to the statue. “Hmm, I don’t recognize this piece, or the sculptor.”

  “Well, sir, do you make a point to memorize all the naked statues in the world?” Brooke teased.

  Andrew smiled at her. “No, only the ones of women.”

  Brooke gave him a playful swat on the arm. “You’re incorrigible,” she said with mock reproof.

  Andrew didn’t answer to that charge, probably because it was true and he knew it as well as she did. Instead, he moved a few inches closer to Brooke, closing the gap between them. He reached out and cupped her chin, tipping her face up toward his. “You’re really beautiful, did you know?”

  Brooke’s lips parted and her eyes went wide. She had never been called beautiful before, attractive—yes, but not beautiful. “Thank you, everyone always calls Madison beautiful, never me,” she said before she realized she had revealed too much. A part of her that was vulnerable.

  Andrew leaned a little closer, so close Brooke could feel his warm breath on her face. “To me, you are far more beautiful than Madison.” Then he lowered his head and very lightly brushed his lips across hers.

  Brooke almost melted on the spot. His kind words had softened her resolve, but his tender kiss was almost her undoing. “You have quite an unmatched skill, my lord,” Brooke said weakly.

  Rather than responding to her words with words of his own, Andrew moved closer and kissed her again. This time his kiss was not a quick brush of the lips, it was a full on assault of lips. He started his kiss gently and just when her lips were used to having his on them, he became more aggressive. Her body relaxed and her lips started to respond to his. He moved his hands around to rest on her back and draw her closer while his lips continued to mesh with hers.

  Brooke’s hands moved on their own accord up to his neck, and she dug into the soft black curls that rested against his collar. Her fingers twisted his hair as she felt his lips pressed harder to hers, moving on top and in between hers. Her body was giving up its fight to stay standing, and she would have sunk to the floor if he had not been holding onto her. She leaned against his chest and his hands tightened their grip to hold her in place.
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  Andrew pulled back and looked down at her. “How do you feel about my skills now?” he asked with a ragged breath, his eyes even darker than they were a few minutes before.

  Even with the blood thundering in her ears she understood his question; yet she couldn’t form a coherent response, she nodded instead. She knew she was flushed from the kiss and her body felt absolutely boneless in his arms, almost like she had completely surrendered to him.

  Andrew smiled and ran the pad of one of his thumbs across her swollen lips. “You are truly beautiful. I don’t care what anyone else says; to me, you are more beautiful than your sisters.”

  Her heart fluttered at his words; he truly thought she was beautiful. “We should probably return to Mama and Madison before they come looking for us,” Brooke forced herself to say before stepping backward and out of his embrace. She wished she could stay in this moment forever, but that wasn’t possible, and it really would not do to be found in this position. It could mean they might be forced to marry, which she didn’t want to happen, did she?

  “You’re right,” Andrew murmured, offering her his arm.

  They barely walked three steps down the hall before nearly colliding with Mama and Madison. “How were the swords?” Mama inquired, acting truly interested in ancient weapons.

  “They were not so interesting,” Brooke said dismissively, hoping Mama wouldn’t insist on going into the room they’d just left. “I’d like to go look at some of those paintings that were mentioned in my book.”

  “Paintings are down this hall over here,” Andrew said, pointing to a hall on the left leading to where a number of portraits of former kings and queens were located.

  Standing in front of the portraits of the past kings of England, Madison asked, “Did any of these men actually do anything, or are they just up here because they were kings?”

  “These here,” Andrew said pointing to two different King Henrys, “are responsible for reforming the entire judicial system of England. Before them, the judicial system was a mess. It was based off the whims of nobles or the Pope. However, Henry VIII created the Church of England and ended the Pope’s political control of England.” Pointing to Henry VII, “His father, Henry VII, made changes by appointing each village a Justice of the Peace, or magistrate, to keep things under control in each area. Punishments were no longer given out on the personal opinion of the person hearing the case. Instead, laws were created and the Justice of the Peace made sure they were followed. If a problem came about that could not easily solved, or required more proof a jury would be brought in to keep it fair. You are familiar with the role of judges and juries in the United States are you not?” Andrew asked, raising a brow toward Mama.

  “Not personally I assure you,” Mama quickly replied. “But yes, we do use them in our legal system back in the United States. I suppose it is one of the few things the colonists liked about the way their homeland was run since they included it in the New World,” she told him tartly.

  Andrew gave a bark of laughter.

  “Stop that, you’re drawing attention over here,” Brooke hissed.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” Andrew said as he tried to put on a straight face. “One of the few things they liked,” he muttered disbelievingly.

  “Wasn’t Henry VIII the one who had his wife’s head chopped off because she didn’t bear him a son?” Madison asked pertly.

  Before Andrew could answer that loaded question, Mama jumped in. “Girls, I believe Papa will be waiting on us, we should be going back now.”

  In the carriage on the way back to the townhouse, Brooke once again did not participate in the conversation. But instead of thinking of Andrew’s legs this time, she was dreaming and reliving the torrid kiss they’d shared.

  Not letting go of Brooke’s hand after she descended the carriage, Andrew ran his thumb back and forth across her knuckles and asked, “Will I be able to see you again before you leave for the house party?”

  “No, Papa said we are to leave tomorrow. We’re going to spend a few days in Bath before going to the party.”

  “Until the next time, then,” Andrew said before he bent and placed a slow, lingering kiss on the back of Brooke’s hand.

  Brooke tried to hide her disappointment at not knowing when the “next time” was as she watched Andrew turn away, get back into his carriage and roll away.

  Chapter 10

  The Banks family left London for Bath by traveling coach bright and early the next morning. They were to spend a few days seeing the countryside before going to the baron’s house party.

  In Bath they checked in an inn called the Dog and Fox. It was the nicest that Bath had to offer, that still had vacancy anyway.

  “It’ll cost ye four pounds a night for two rooms, with yer meals included,” Mr. McNaught, the Scottish innkeeper, told John.

  John made the arrangements while the ladies wandered around to look at the great room. It looked informal and comfortable. Several divans were placed on the far side of the room, a half dozen dining tables with chairs took up the majority of the room, and off in a corner there was a door leading to another room, most likely a taproom.

  “All right, ladies, you may go up now. I’ll run outside and instruct the footmen to bring in our trunks, I’ll be right up.” John walked back toward the coach while the ladies followed the innkeeper’s wife up the stairs.

  “These will be yer rooms,” Mrs. McNaught said as they walked past one closed door, and entered the second one. Once inside, she continued, “I’ll bring ye in a cot to this room, so there will be room for ye three to sleep. Since ye brought no maids with ye, I fig’er this’ll be jist fine.”

  Looking to Carolina, Mrs. McNaught said, “Ye and yer man will have to share a room. We don’t have enough room to have people not share rooms. Ye’ll sleep in the room we passed along the way. If ye’ll come wit me, I’ll let ye in.” Mrs. McNaught trudged out of the room with Carolina following close behind.

  “Here ye are, mum,” Mrs. McNaught said as she was showing Carolina the room she and John would share. “The bed is large enough ye won’t even know yer husband is in there wit ye.”

  “The room will do nicely,” Carolina said brightly, making her way to the window to see the view.

  Mrs. McNaught took this as her cue that she was excused and went back downstairs to her husband. “Them is some strange gentlefolk. They brought no servants, ‘sept the coachman an two footmen, an the lady showed no disgust at sharing a bed wit her husband.”

  “That’s cuz they ain’t gentlefolk,” Mr. McNaught told her vehemently. “Them is Americans, a different breed entirely.” Mr. McNaught followed his comment with an exaggerated shudder, then he raised his chin a notch.

  John missed the rest of the conversation between the innkeeper and his wife because he was walking up the stairs to find his own wife. When he opened the door to the room they would share, he saw his wife’s profile. She had not noticed his entrance, so he gazed at her for a few minutes. The sun was shining in the room on her dark brown hair and her tanned face.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you came in,” Carolina said when she turned slightly and noticed John was across the room staring at her.

  “I only just came in. Is there a good view?” He walked closer to where his wife was standing at the window.

  Carolina leaned back into his arms and together they stared out the window for several minutes. The view was amazing. If looking to the left, buildings such as a bakery, confection shop, and another boarding house could be seen. To the right was an amazing view of scenery. Lush green fields spread out for miles and miles, dips and rises from hills could easily be seen on the thick green carpet made by the grass. Clusters of trees were sprinkled throughout the rolling hills. Nothing looked as if it had deliberately been planted. It was quite simply a beautiful natural landscape. Off in the distance, in the middle of the breathtaking scene, an old gray manor sat.

  “This is so beautiful,” Carolina remarked. When he
didn’t confirm or deny her statement, she meekly asked, “Do you ever wish you had come back here instead of staying in the United States?”

  “Never.” John spoke without a second of hesitation. “I gave up this beauty for a far better beauty in America: you. I have never had any regrets about that.” To help prove his point, he gave her a little squeeze to assure her that she was more important and beautiful to him than anything in England.

  Carolina couldn’t comment, she was too busy holding in happy tears.

  “We had better go get the girls and go down for dinner. I paid the cook extra to make us some roasted beef. The cook we’ve had in London couldn’t make it right to save her life. I have faith in this one though.”

  Together they found their girls, who were having a disagreement—as sisters are wont to do—about which shop to go visit first on the morrow.

  ***

  The next few days were filled with spending as much of their allowances as they could on as many things as they felt their lives would not be complete without.

  Liberty visited the little bookshop and found a few volumes of interest. To Brooke’s great surprise they were not manuals of any sort, but rather novels.

  Madison enjoyed the confection shop most of all. The girls had gone inside searching for chocolate and other sweets. In New York they had only had chocolate in little chunks, but the confection shop heated it up and made it into a liquid. After only one sip, Madison claimed it was her new favorite drink and had gone so far as to request it with her meals back at Dog and Fox.

  Brooke spent her time looking around a milliner’s shop. She’d pause and smile every time she saw something red. She still dreamt every night of that kiss that she shared with Andrew. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get that kiss out of her head. She knew he teased her a little after it, but that didn’t matter. The kiss itself was like nothing she had ever experienced before. She’d kissed a few gentlemen in New York and in London, but none of them matched the excitement she felt when she kissed Andrew. He seemed to spark something in her that no other had. It was thrilling!