The earl sighed and shifted on the bench. “I’ve a tale to share that is rather involved, Lady Bethany. Your mother wouldn’t approve, but for the sake of brevity I shall speak as straightforward as you’ll allow me. And some of it, including what I can offer you and what I cannot, must remain between us.”
Curiosity mingled with apprehension. “Certainly, my lord. I’d prefer not mincing around and am not given to repeating what others say.” Of course, she didn’t actually care what this man told her since she would allow it no bearing on her decision. Truthfully he most likely deserved more than she could ever give him, and she couldn’t bear the thought of how her “secret” would offend him if he knew. She must at least remain as aloof from him as possible, even if she couldn’t refuse his offer.
“Excellent. Then in short, you must undo the work of a thief, play the part of a mediator, refurbish a home that has grown embarrassingly outdated, and undertake the daunting task of becoming a wife solely for the sake of appearances.”
Bethany blinked at him, this much brevity rendering her completely baffled. “A thief, my lord?”
The earl nodded. “I employ stewards at each of my properties to manage the daily details. Unfortunately Moorewood’s steward of four years absconded with some of the manor’s costliest trimmings and an impressive amount of furnishings, equipment and supplies.”
“He just up and stole them?”
“Yes. And the scoundrel also lined his pockets with money from the estate’s funds, first by fleecing my tenants and then purloining the funds from necessary repairs he left undone.”
“How reprehensible!”
“Indeed. It lost me the trust of my tenants. To restore it, you’ll have the support of Moorewood’s servants and also the counsel of my solicitor with significant decisions. The tenants need someone to hear and quickly resolve their complaints, and ongoing reassurance that I did not condone Geoffrey Matheson’s fraud.”
Bethany’s eyes widened in disbelief. “And you consider me capable of mending fences with your tenants and winning their loyalty? I’m not quite twenty years old, my lord, and I’ve no idea how to run an estate.”
“You shan’t run it, at least not in entirety; simply make peace with people ill-used. I have faith in you or I wouldn’t be here. Keep in mind my relationship with your father and brothers, and also the twins. I know their opinion of your self-assuredness in matters that often lie in a man’s domain. Your tenacity at facing green colts one day and attending a formal ball the next. Your defense of Whitton’s tenants where needed. And as to the renovations, your mother can advise you, and likewise Lady Camille, if you wish. Her brothers say she has a natural flair with decorating. No, I have no qualms regarding your ability to transform my ancestral estate into the home of your dreams.”
For a moment Bethany entertained visions of leaking roofs, cracked stone walls, and crumbling floors, crawling with bugs and rats. Then Whitton’s manor flashed through her mind, merely wanting tender care, and she felt pleasure at the notion of achieving such a lofty goal with the Earl of Locke’s home.
“I’m convinced you’d enjoy the project,” Locke murmured, watching her closely. “I’m equally convinced you’ll love the estate. On another subject we are of like mind, I believe. Many admired Lord Whitton’s stud. He bred some of the finest horses in England. I look forward to assimilating Whitton’s animals into my own breeding program and carrying on his work at Moorewood. I understand you’ve a great passion for horses, too, and that your father gave you a number of them.”
“Gave them to me?” she bridled. “Father made me work hard for them, schooling me to ride better than most gentlemen, and then teaching me how to train them, too.”
The earl chuckled in amusement. “I confess I heard him speak highly of you, Lady Bethany. I paid little attention to it then. You weren’t more than a schoolgirl and my best friends’ little sister. Lord Matthew and Mr. Nicolas, however, claim you’re quite gifted.”
Her cousins weren’t ones for flattery, and the compliment warmed Bethany’s cheeks.
“Your animals are beyond welcome at Moorewood, and if you’re anywhere near as talented as I’ve heard, you’re welcome to my horses as well.”
Flattery became shock. Did he mean it? But there was still the matter of becoming his wife. Bethany’s stomach twisted in fear at the full ramifications of it. Again his keen gaze seemed to dissect her thoughts.
“Perhaps your thorniest undertaking would be providing the appearance of a wife. As I professed earlier, I am a confirmed bachelor and a private man. I truly travel a great deal and have thus avoided the encumbrances of a wife. Unfortunately the longer I remain unattached, the more pressure the beau monde applies. I’m sick of being chased by desperate females, which shall not end until I marry.”
“Which means you’ll give them what they want. You will marry.”
He chuckled and nodded. “But to whom I choose. And most women would expect everything attendant with marriage, which is where our arrangement must differ.” His smile faded and he drew his pocket watch from his waistcoat and examined it fixedly. “Ah, our time draws short.” He replaced the watch and met her eyes again. “This would likely offend Lady Whitton. If you feel likewise, then I understand, and I’ll withdraw the proposal in entirety.”
Bethany nodded with caution.
“I understand you, too, have preferred not to marry. Your reasons are yours and I reassure you that I respect them. As for me, I firmly believe a father should assist in raising his children, and if he cannot, he shouldn’t have them. I’m fond of children, but I’m gone too much, and for that reason, I don’t want them. I’ve a female cousin with three fine boys, and the oldest knows he’s in line to inherit if something happened to me—and you. This is a simple contractual arrangement, Lady Bethany. Should you marry me, you must serve as a wife in name only.”
“My lord?” Had she heard him rightly?
“It’s imperative you agree, however, to do all you can to convince the ton we’re happily matched. It will put an end to the gossip I utterly detest and the schemers who hound me. In return, you’ll have everything I’ve offered you. Support for your mother. Repair for Whitton. A home at Moorewood. More horses than you can manage. And the comforts and distinction of being my countess all the days of your life.”
The proposition rendered Bethany speechless, the realities of it leaving her feeling torn. First, came the most incredible sense of relief at knowing the earl wouldn’t force her into his bed. Then, in a momentary flash of insight, she not only grasped the barrenness of the life she had considered her lot for the last fourteen months, she also recognized the thread of hope that had somehow buried itself deep inside her. That perhaps she would one day have what most women wanted. Could she truly stand a lifetime of never becoming a mother? Never know what it was like to love or to be loved by a man?
Never know how it would feel to be loved by this man?
She’d barely given these thoughts wings, wondering how she dared entertain them, when horrible images sprang into her mind, an evil darkness that twisted her stomach into knots. Panic surged through her. She snapped her eyes shut to stave off the recollections and the terror that came with them, the recognition that a man had the power to offer a woman great pleasure or terrible grief. She was grateful she did not remember some of that evil and hoped she never would. I can’t ever give a man an heir, she scolded herself. Not if his touch always terrifies me this way. Not if it means Lord Locke would discover the truth about me.
Locke’s brows furrowed slightly when she met his gaze again but he did not press her. She forced her heart and respirations to calm. The people in her life, those she loved and trusted most, apparently had faith in this man. Stubbornness reminded her that she’d determined from the first sight of him not to marry him. But such a peculiar arrangement would allow her to keep her secret to herself. She couldn’t hope for better, not with only days left to losing Whitton. The pieces came together, and s
he suddenly found herself convinced enough to take the risk.
Cautiously she said, “I—I do think we’d work well together.”
His inviting mouth curled with humor. “Then all that’s left are the formalities,” he replied. “Shall I go down on bended knee?”
Bethany pressed her eyes shut and swallowed hard. “I would die of mortification.”
“As would my tailor,” he responded, making her laugh. “Very well, then. Lady Bethany Montgomery, daughter of the late John Montgomery, Earl of Whitton, will you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”
“Oh, my,” Bethany murmured. “I never imagined it would be like this.”
“Have you reconsidered? I don’t mind kneeling.”
“No. No, of course not. I mean it’s quite, well, overwhelming. But I ... I accept.”
Lord Locke’s visage brightened with pleasure. “I’m delighted, Lady Bethany. I do not think you’ll be disappointed. Now, shall we visit your esteemed mother and give her the good news?”
CHAPTER 3
Bethany was moved by her mother’s reaction when she and Lord Locke returned to announce the outcome of their discussion—minus the intimate details, of course. Hope shone brightly in Lady Katherine’s pale blue eyes, along with the tears of relief she fought to control.
Obviously pressed for time, Lord Locke asked Mr. Drew to send for his horse straightaway, but while he waited, he assured Lady Katherine that she could not only keep Whitton’s remaining servants, she could rehire any that had been dismissed over the last year if she wished.
“I’ve rooms at the White Hart Inn in Maidstone and plan to meet with your solicitor there this afternoon, to apprise him of the engagement and to make arrangements for the funds for your immediate needs. He will then meet with us here tomorrow morning to finalize the contract. Ten o’clock, if you will.”
Lady Katherine’s hands fluttered in nervousness. “My lord, you needn’t live in leased quarters. We’ve ample room, and if you’d consider relocating here, it would make the arrangements more convenient.”
“I would dislike being a burden,” he replied. “I’ll plan visits as needed.”
Mr. Drew announced the arrival of Locke’s horse, and Bethany and her mother trailed the earl onto the front porch. Considering his determination, Bethany couldn’t help wondering if Locke had more than one reason for hurrying off. She had no doubt her mother would love the privilege of having the Earl of Locke as her guest, and Bethany thought it wise to become acquainted with him, but perhaps he did not feel the same.
“My lord, forgive me,” she said. “We obviously haven’t the luxuries to which you’re likely accustomed, but we’ve never shirked our friends and visitors, despite our lessened circumstances. I cannot imagine any inn in Maidstone, of which there are few, could prove more comfortable.” She paused but before Locke could reply added, “Considering one of your goals in our marriage is to keep the beau monde at arm’s length, wouldn’t spending time with me help foster the idea that our relationship is amicable?”
Bethany could see her mother disapproved of her outburst. One did not speak to a non-pareil this way; but she felt justified when Lord Locke’s neck reddened just above his collar and he shifted in discomfort.
“I do sincerely apologize, Ladies. I meant no offense. You make a good point, Lady Bethany. I truly do not wish to burden you, but I can certainly offset any inconvenience I might cause. I will transfer here tomorrow.”
His dark blue eyes reflected his sincerity as he added, “I’d already arranged to have foodstuffs and goods sent to you tonight anyway, if Lady Bethany accepted my offer, but I’ll be bringing my carriage and horses, my driver and my valet, which will increase the strain on your provisions. To compensate, I will have more than I’d planned sent tonight and regularly thereafter until you again have a full larder.”
“We are honored, my lord,” Lady Katherine said.
Jason, the gangly old stable master who’d cared for Whitton’s horses since before Christian was born, met the threesome in the manor’s front drive, holding the head of a magnificent dun stallion. The animal grumbled a greeting and nibbled at Lord Locke’s offered hand, closing his eyes when the earl scratched his throat latch. The beast might as well have been a statue he stood so perfectly still and well-mannered while Lord Locke climbed into the saddle. Bethany felt herself falling in love with the animal more surely than she thought she could ever fall for a man. Especially as puzzling a man as this one.
Lord Locke patted the stallion’s shoulder. “You like him.”
“He’s dazzling,” Bethany admitted.
“Bred and raised at Moorewood. Don’t know of a more faithful servant, not even among the human variety. My father named the poor fellow Polyphemus. I call him Polly.”
“Hello, Polly,” Bethany mewed, letting the stallion sniff her hand and then her cheek. She so dearly loved the spicy scent of a horse’s hide, almost a dusty cinnamon smell, and was sure no more elegant creature graced the earth. “You are a gorgeous lad,” she said, and when the stallion grumbled at her and nodded his head, she laughed and patted his sleek shoulder. “I’m glad you agree.”
Lord Locke gave Bethany a wry smile as he gathered the four reins from the animal’s Pelham bit between his fingers. After setting them precisely, he nodded goodbye and touched a leg to the horse’s side. Instantly Polly wheeled around and leaped into a rocking horse canter down the drive towards Maidstone.
“He is, at the least, impressive, is he not?” Lady Katherine said, squeezing Bethany’s hand.
“At least.” Bethany smiled, watching horse and rider go, admiring the man but unsure she was supposed to like him. Remembering the horse farm he described at Moorewood, however, she could at least console herself with the thought that if the other horses the earl owned were even half as good as Polly, she would be in heaven.
* * *
Marcus Ashburn enjoyed the feel of Polly’s collected gait, along with the warm breeze and the sea-green meadow’s splendor. Whitton’s lands and livestock were excellent, despite the estate’s insolvency.
Lord Matthew and Mr. Nicolas would be beyond ecstatic when they met with him later this afternoon to discuss his success with Lady Bethany.
His smile vanished, however, when he ruminated deeper about the future Lady Locke. He’d visited Whitton many times over the years, almost always when Lady Whitton was in London and Lady Bethany either off riding horses or climbing trees. He barely remembered the girl from their meeting at Almack’s last year, and although she was extraordinarily beautiful then, she’d seemed too young to take seriously. He might never have met her again if not for the twins.
Lord Matthew and Mr. Nicolas had come to him several weeks ago in a panic. It had shocked him to learn of Whitton’s financial ruin, but not nearly so much as their having uncovered a credible threat to Lady Bethany’s life. They’d begged for help with protecting her, a more difficult request than he could have imagined. Besides needing to keep her unaware of the diplomatic connections Lord Whitton and Lord Christian had entertained, she must be spared the obligations of a typical arranged marriage. Short of explaining why, Lord Matthew alluded to her inordinately independent nature, while Mr. Nicolas hinted she had difficulty trusting men.
The three of them had tossed more than one idea about but none that worked. Then Mr. Nicolas pointed out that Lady Bethany shunned marriage as much as he did, and what if Locke could take her under his wing? Offer her a marriage in name only?
The proposal took root and was about to become a reality. A marriage of convenience. A woman who wanted as little from him as he would from her. It would leave him as free to focus on his duty to the Crown—a commitment that had consumed his life for a decade—as it left no room for romance, which he’d avoided as if his life depended on it, as indeed, it did. With no strings attached, and when this menace was eliminated, he could easily let Lady Bethany go, especially if she changed her mind and wanted more of him than he could
give.
Or so he had thought. If only he hadn’t found the lady nearly irresistible, far more exceptional than the twins had warned him. She bore the Montgomery stamp: dark brown hair, the most fascinating emerald green eyes, finely sculpted features. He’d wanted to stare at her heart-shaped face, her small nose, and lips that were much too quick to smile. Luscious lips that deserved to be kissed.
He recoiled from the unbidden pleasure the idea planted inside him, the realization that his defenses might have met their match. The reason he’d wanted to escape her and her mother as quickly as possible. The longer he looked at Lady Bethany, the more he wanted to touch her.
No, that would never do. He needed to keep her at arm’s length. Thankfully, he’d be far away from her most of the time, carrying on unhampered, intent on the affairs of the Realm.
And with his heart safely out of reach.
* * *
“I cannot believe it!” Lady Camille Camerfield cried, hurrying into the entry and throwing her arms around Bethany in a rare display of emotion.
“Camille!” Bethany said, daring to use her only girl cousin and dearest friend’s Christian name despite it being frowned upon. This was, after all, an auspicious day. “I barely sent my note,” she said, setting Lady Camille away from her. “I swear Jason headed for Hannaford not thirty minutes ago. You must have ridden like the wind, but where is your horse?”
Lady Camille grabbed Bethany’s hands, excitement sparkling in her gray eyes, her fair curls bouncing.
“I left home before Jason did. I couldn’t wait. I tied Cooper in a stall where Jason can find him when he arrives. Beth, I’m stunned at your rejecting Lord Scarbreigh this morning and an hour later becoming engaged to the Earl of Locke. I want to hear every detail.”
Bethany made a face. “It’s ludicrous, is it not? I cannot believe it, either. I assume your brothers are following you. Hetty is putting together a hasty luncheon for us.”
“Please don’t ask me to wait for them to hear what happened.”
Saving Lord Whitton's Daughter: A Regency Romance Novel Page 3
