Her Errant Earl (Wicked Husbands Book 1)

by Scarlett Scott

  Her expression softened. “How thoughtful of you.”

  Well, he wasn’t an ogre for Christ’s sake. He may have been an inattentive scoundrel for the first few months of their union, but he did have eyes in his bloody head. He was beginning to get aggravated by her aloof air, and the feeling was a welcome one.

  He deliberately ignored her, turning his attention to the butler who stood at proud attention. “Wilton, I should like to read my correspondence while I break my fast this morning. I find I’ve a rather busy day ahead of me.”

  He stole a sidelong glance at his wife to gauge her reaction. Her plump lips had compressed into one of her pinched frowns. Her brows were drawn together as well. Perhaps she was wondering what would occupy him for the duration of the day and take him away from her company. Not a blessed thing, but she needn’t know it.

  Pleased, he resumed eating his breakfast. He hoped she found him as vexing as he found her. She was warm, then cold. Told him she loved him, then wouldn’t look at him. By God, he was confused enough on his own without her to further muddle things.

  “Is something amiss, Pembroke?”

  Yes, damn it. Everything was amiss. He was mooning over his wife and lying to her at the same time. He raised a brow and fixed what he hoped was a suitably wilting stare upon her. “Of course not, my dear.”

  He knew he shouldn’t dwell on his subterfuge. Unfortunately, what had begun as a necessity now held much more dire repercussions. He had no doubt if she discovered his motivation for becoming a husband in truth, she’d wallop him in the noggin with A Tale of Two Cities. And once again take up her addle-pated notion of divorce. He didn’t want a divorce. He rather enjoyed having a wife, especially one as delectable as Victoria.

  The return of Wilton bearing a salver of various-sized envelopes saved him from further unwanted conversation. He dug into them with the same gusto he applied to his meal.

  The sudden pallor of her husband’s skin did not escape Victoria as he scanned one of his letters. She’d been watching him, consternated by his abrupt lack of interest in her. Odd that she’d become so attuned to his moods in such a short time. Perhaps odder still that she’d become so accustomed to expecting his attention.

  She yearned to ask him who had written and why it had disturbed him. But their olive branch was still lying on the table between them, neither quite trusting enough to pick it up. Given his reticence in her chamber, she wasn’t certain how far she could push him.

  He glanced up at her, catching her gaze upon him. Her heart jumped into a faster pace at those blue eyes fastened on hers, bright and seeking. He cleared his throat, a habit she’d begun to take note of that happened whenever he was at a loss for words.

  “It seems the duke has deigned to write me a letter,” he said, his tone harsh.

  There must have been something in the contents of his father’s letter that had upset him greatly. She proceeded with care. “What does His Grace say?”

  Will pinned a forced-looking smile to his lips. “He sends us his regards.”

  “That is all?” It wasn’t precisely that she didn’t believe him, but she was suspicious. Guilt nipped at her. “The letter appears to be rather voluminous.”

  She could see the letter was of lengthy proportions, the duke’s dark scrawl visible as Will held the letter in question up to the light. She found it curious too that the duke was aware of her husband’s presence in the country. She frowned as her doubts heightened. Unless of course it had been sent up from the Belgravia House. Perhaps she was overthinking it.

  He folded the epistle with care and slid it inside the pocket of his jacket. “He also prattles on about his falcons or some such.”

  Falcons. Did he think her obtuse? No man wrote an entire page filled with nonsense about falcons. She pressed on, more convinced than before that he was hiding something from her. “What has upset you then? Perhaps you harbor a strong dislike for falconry?”

  “Upset?” He raised an imperious brow. “On the contrary, my dear, I’ve never been happier.”

  She considered him for a moment. “You don’t appear happy to me.”

  “But I am. The miserable old codger also writes that he plans to grace us with his presence.” Bitterness laced his voice.

  The duke had spoken to her on exactly two occasions thus far, once at a ball given in honor of her betrothal, and once on her wedding day. All other communication had been strictly conducted with her father. Victoria had been a bartered commodity, a necessary addition for the sake of the hallowed family coffers. Perhaps the notion of the duke’s visit had distressed Will. Lord knew it didn’t sit well with her. He was stuffy and had a way of looking at her that made her feel as if she’d dropped a glob of aspic on her silk dress.

  Despite her reservations, it was her duty to play hostess to the man. The duke’s arrival would likely send the household into an uproar. “When does he plan to arrive? I’ll need time to prepare.”

  “A fortnight hence.” Will couldn’t have worn a more disgusted expression had he just bitten into a plate of rotten eggs instead of Cook’s heavenly creations.

  A fortnight didn’t leave them with much time.

  Victoria nearly dropped her fork. She stilled, plastering a pleasant expression to her face. “How delightful.”

  “How dreadful would actually be more like it.” He muttered what sounded like a rather rude round of curses beneath his breath.

  “He can’t be all bad.” Could he? She had to admit that as unflappable as Will seemed in all other matters, when it came to the duke, he was very much affected. Surely there was a good reason for it.

  “You shall see.”

  She wondered again at what could have rendered her husband so cold, so hateful toward his father. Perhaps he would never confide in her. Lord knew he was adept at avoiding serious subjects in favor of other, far naughtier pursuits.

  He abruptly dropped his fork to his plate. “I find I’ve quite lost my appetite. Would you care for a ride, my lady?”

  Victoria wasn’t precisely at home on a horse. Equestrienne had never been one of her talents. She hesitated. “I’m not certain I’m in the mood to be jostled about.”

  Of course, the opportunity to spend more time with Will was appealing indeed. She very much wanted to continue in their tentative pax. Perhaps the awkwardness of the morning could be mollified, at least in part.

  “Pray take pity on me, my dear. I’ve had a rough morning.” He gave her a grin that sent heat straight to her core.

  The man knew how to make her bend to his whims. He was dangerous.

  “Very well,” she agreed after a bit of introspection. “I’ll accompany you.”

  ill had given her the most docile mare in the stables. The horse was so calm, in fact, that Victoria would have sworn she was sleeping on her hooves except that she kept plodding along at an exceedingly slow pace. Pembroke, meanwhile, rode a horse as sleek as it was fast. They’d only been riding for a few minutes and already she grew tired of having a view of his mount’s hindquarters.

  “Will,” she called.

  He stopped and turned back to her. “What is it, my dear?”

  “I thought you said you wanted me to accompany you.”

  He frowned as she caught up to him and reined in her sluggish horse. “You are accompanying me.”

  “Not precisely.” Her mare began nosing through a clump of grass, deciding it was time for a second breakfast. “I’ve been staring at your back the entire time.”

  “I’ve been told I have a delightfully broad back. I thought you may have wanted to admire it.”

  His tone was deadly serious. Victoria searched his bland expression, trying to discern if he was having her on. She couldn’t tell. Each day with him proved an altogether enlightening experience. Finally, he laughed, the hard planes of his handsome face softening. There was much more to him, she thought, than the stranger who had abandoned her in favor of living a wastrel’s life in London. He continued to surprise her and wo
rk his way deeper into her heart. Drat the man.

  “I’m teasing you, Victoria.” He grinned at her. “Don’t you Americans ever laugh?”

  An answering smile tugged at her lips. “Of course we do.”

  He sobered. “I suppose I haven’t given you much cause for levity.” He paused, his gaze intense upon hers. “Let’s dismount and take a walk.”

  Without waiting for her response, he dropped from his mount with effortless grace and reached up to assist her. His hands circled her waist as he helped her to the ground. When her feet were safely in the grass once more, however, he didn’t release her from his hold. Instead, his hands lingered upon her, his tall form pressing into her diminutive one.

  “You are impossibly lovely,” he murmured, his head lowering toward hers.

  She turned her face at the last moment, presenting him with her cheek instead of her lips. He kissed her just the same, but his grip tightened on her.

  “Am I being punished for this morning?”

  Victoria tore her eyes from his, lest she allow him to charm her into indulging in the passion flaring even now between them. She wanted to show him she could be as unaffected as he by their encounters. Of course, that wasn’t at all true, but she had a suspicion that she shouldn’t allow him to see her entire hand in the game they played.

  “What have you done that requires punishment?” she asked in lieu of answering his query.

  He released his grip on her waist with one hand and gently touched her chin, forcing her to look at him once more. His gaze was blue, snapping with seductive fire and something indefinable. Penance? She couldn’t be certain.

  “I left you in haste this morning,” he said lowly. “I’m aware I was an ass. I cannot make an excuse for myself, save to say that I meant you no insult. My mind was simply weighed down with weightier matters.”

  She raised a brow. “Weightier matters?”

  He cleared his throat, looking ill at ease. “Estate business,” he clarified with obvious ambiguity.

  “Indeed?” It was her turn to raise a brow. “I was under the impression you haven’t ever handled estate matters here at Carrington House.”

  “Devil take it, you’re a prying woman,” he groused. “Very well, if you must have it, I was overwhelmed by the realization that I cannot seem to get enough of my lovely wife.”

  She didn’t think she believed that explanation any more than his first. But his words sent desire slipping through her wanton body just the same. “Somehow, I suspect you’re mocking me.”

  “Not at all, my dear.” His eyes darkened. He caressed her cheek again. “I wouldn’t jest about that.” He traced a path down her throat, stopping at the first fastener on her high-necked riding habit. “Bloody hell, you’re always over-buttoned.”

  Victoria laughed at his frustrated observation, partially to dispel the troubling surge of want swirling through her. “It’s the first stare of fashion, you know.”

  “Fashion should think a bit more about a man who wants to debauch his wife,” he grumbled, unhooking the top button from its mooring. “There we are. Only eight hundred more to go.”

  “Pembroke,” she protested, scandalized that he was beginning to disrobe her in the middle of the day, in the open air.

  “I’m back to Pembroke, am I?” He continued opening her bodice. “I shall have to remedy that.”

  Taking a fortifying breath, she forced herself to look over his shoulder. His horse was starting to wander. It presented the perfect excuse to regain her ability to resist him. “You may want to tether our horses first. I’m certain mine won’t travel too far from her meal, but yours is another matter entirely.”

  “Damn.” Wearing an aggrieved look, he released her and strode after his horse.

  Victoria deemed it best to undo the damage he’d wrought upon her smart wardrobe. Quickly, she refastened her bodice. She watched as he secured both horses before turning back to her. The moment was alive with sunshine and possibilities. She had to admit he cut a dashing figure in his riding breeches. He was tall, lean and muscular. The intensity in his eyes made her heart kick up its pace.

  He stopped a scant few inches from her, giving her a boyish grin. “Now where were we? You’ve done yourself back up. That’s against the rules.”

  She tried not to smile as it would only serve to encourage him. “I wasn’t aware there were any rules involved.”

  “Only rules of my making.” He winked.

  “You aren’t a fair competitor, my lord.”

  He snagged an arm around her waist and dragged her into his hard body. “Is this the first time you’ve become aware of that fact, dearest wife?” He lowered his head, close enough to kiss.

  Oh he was tempting her again already, the sinful man. Best to stave him off by any means possible. Her mind fogged. “Perhaps you should tell me what the rules are before I begin playing the game.”

  “I must say I’ve always preferred the element of surprise,” he told her before taking her mouth in a crushing kiss.

  Her arms wound about his neck of their own volition. She opened for his tongue, reveling in the sensual way he dipped inside her mouth to taste and tease. His hands slid up the small of her back in a possessive brand. Her resolve crumbled as if it were a ship being dashed against a rocky shore. She wanted him, and he knew precisely how to make her give in to her desires.

  Victoria pressed closer to him, breathing in his divine scent. She returned his kiss with all the fervor clamoring to life within her. Somehow, it no longer mattered that they’d begun the morning badly. All she could feel was his powerful body, his knowing touch, his claiming kiss.

  Dear heavens. What did he do to her?

  He broke the kiss at last, making a muted sound in his throat. Her breathing was ragged, her stays cutting into her waist as she struggled to regain her senses. She clung to him, not wanting the embrace to end. He looked down at her, his eyes fierce, sparkling with naked desire.

  “I’m beginning to regret I suggested riding instead of merely returning to your chamber.” He sighed. “Let’s take our walk, shall we? If we linger another minute, I fear I’ll take you here in the grass like a common stable boy.”

  A mixture of disappointment and relief speared her. She took his proffered arm and started off with him. Thankfully, she’d worn a pair of serviceable boots. Otherwise, her shoes would have been ruined by the uneven, damp ground. At least she could maintain her sanity when he wasn’t kissing her, she reasoned.

  “It’s a lovely day,” she murmured, opting for a safer subject. And it truly was. While she’d only grown accustomed to English weather slowly, she was beginning to admire it for its dramatic, often mercurial nature. Everything seemed so much more vibrant, greener, and more alive than New York.

  “Fair weather today indeed,” he agreed, his tone light and affable.

  One almost wouldn’t guess he had nearly been about to make love to her in the weeds. But Victoria knew, and it still sent a raging fire through her blood. She tried to focus on the scenery, the lush trees and verdant fields. In the distance, sheep grazed in a pastoral setting. The result was quite picturesque, even if she continued to catch herself stealing sidelong glances at her husband’s handsome profile.

  “Where are you taking me?” she had to ask. He was guiding her down a path that led into a thick, seemingly ancient copse of trees.

  “To the river, my dear.” He patted the hand that rested in the crook of his elbow. “You’ve appallingly little faith in your husband, have you not?”

  She bit her lip as she mulled over how to answer that particular question. The truth was that she had faith and yet she did not. Just when she trusted, it seemed she ought not to do so. He was a conundrum indeed.

  “On second thought, leave whatever’s rattling about in your pretty head unspoken.” He sighed. “I can tell from your expression that it won’t be anything I’d prefer to hear.”

  She cocked her head, considering him as they continued to tramp on. “I w
on’t say it then.”

  “Good.” His grip on her tightened. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

  Victoria laughed. “Have you anything in mind?”

  “My dear girl, how can I have aught in mind when I don’t know it yet?”

  Another burst of laughter escaped her. He could be rather entertaining when he chose, and his charm seemed effortless. “What interests you? That is what I meant to say.”

  “Hmm.” He looked down at her, his eyes dancing with merry blue light. “What of your family? How many siblings have you?”

  She pursed her lips. He ought to have known. “I told you while we were courting. Don’t you remember?”

  His expression clouded. “Ah, yes. There are five of you, aren’t there?”

  “Six,” she corrected, her tone tart. He hadn’t listened to a word she’d ever said, had he?

  “Just so.” He cleared his throat. “Felicitations on your new sibling.”

  “Libby is twelve years old,” she pointed out unkindly.

  “Christ,” he muttered, abruptly halting their walk to face her and take both her hands in his. He was very serious as he gazed down upon her, his face stark with masculine beauty. “I have a confession to make, my dear. I wasn’t a good suitor to you. If you were speaking, chances are strong I wasn’t listening. Pray don’t hate me for it, but there it is.”

  She had suspected as much by now, but his admission nevertheless stung. “I don’t hate you,” she allowed, “but I must admit I’m not terribly impressed. Am I so boring then?”

  “Not at all.” He squeezed her fingers, trapped as they were in his large grasp. “It is merely that I was that much of an ass.”

  No point in saving him the shame, she decided. For the first time in his life, he ought to pay what was due. “You were.”

  He brought her hands to his lips for a pair of kisses that sent desire skittering through her. “Forgive me, my dear?”

  “I suppose so,” she conceded. “But when next I ask you, you had better be able to tell me that I am the eldest of six daughters.”