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Earl of Westcliff: Wicked Regency Romance (Wicked Earls' Club)

Page 8

by Meara Platt


  “I’m not objecting, so why should you?”

  “But… I…” She shook her head and sighed. “Very well, I suppose I’d rather be respectably jilted than be considered a hidden mistress that you’ve ruined and abandoned.” She squared her shoulders and cast him a surprisingly innocent and earnest gaze. “But if the gossip does ruin me, I’m not going to let it be in vain.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I am ruined…” She paused to take a deep breath which she then released with a light groan. “If I am…”

  “Ruined?”

  She nodded and her cheeks took on a bright, pink glow. “Then I’d like to spend it productively… with you, and… and that peacock feather. I’d love to find out what you do with it. I’m quite intrigued and cannot imagine its purpose. Will you promise me–”

  “No!”

  Mother in heaven.

  “Heaven ought to protect rakehells from innocent young women like you,” he muttered, his entire body catching fire.

  She eyed him with confusion. “Don’t you mean it the other way around?”

  “No. Stop chattering and come along.”

  Although it was too early for most of the ton to be up and about, there were enough gentlemen and ladies strolling through the park at this late hour of the morning that he and Abby did not seem out of place. In addition, there were plenty of riders along Rotten Row, and children guarded by their nannies playing beside the Serpentine.

  He and Abby drew attention because everyone knew who Tynan was, but no one dared approach without his permission which he did not grant. He could not recall ever escorting a young lady through the park before.

  He never took genteel walks.

  He glanced about, regarding the scenery with a cynical eye. Until this moment, these trees and surrounding shrubbery would have represented locations for seduction, hidden spots where he could take a willing lady for the purpose of a quick tumble before anyone – often a husband – noticed she was missing. Gardens served the same purpose, for there were lots of secluded alcoves where sunlight did not reach.

  He shook out of his thoughts, suddenly not liking himself very much. This is what his life had been until Abby came along. He wasn’t a complete scoundrel, for he never seduced innocents, but he was still a wretched reprobate in many ways.

  He found it odd that Abby seemed to bring out the better part of him. She walked beside him, unaware of what he was thinking. He liked having her beside him and was determined to behave himself around her, no matter how difficult she made it for him. She deserved to be treated like a princess, not like the whipping post her brother had used her for only moments ago. And not like some meaningless sexual escapade for him. “How do you feel, Abby? A little better, I hope.”

  She nodded. “It’s a beautiful day. I love the warmth of the sun on my face and the cool, gentle wind in my hair.”

  He’d been in such a rush to get her out of that house, he hadn’t given her time to put on a bonnet. But she didn’t seem to mind, nor did he. Her auburn hair was a fiery, dark brown that glistened in the sunshine, the deep reds and earthy browns caught in the shifting light depending on the tilt of her head.

  The sky was a deep, clear blue and the sun was gently beating down on them. Tynan even heard birds chirping in the trees. He noticed the vivid reds and yellows of the changing leaves. The brilliant colors struck him all at once, the azure blue of the sky, the fiery reds and golds of the falling leaves, the white puffs of clouds. But nothing was as beautiful as Abby’s auburn hair and auburn gown and her smiling brandy eyes.

  Abby closed her eyes and tilted her head upward to soak in the warmth of the sun. She looked even lovelier in the morning light than she had by the glow of firelight. Hell, she looked spectacular either way. “Thank you, Tynan. I did need this moment of peace.”

  “Any time, Abby. I’m entirely at your disposal.”

  She laughed and opened her eyes as they resumed walking. “I won’t hold you to your words. But I do enjoy your company. It isn’t every day I have a handsome earl willing to indulge my every whim.”

  “I’m not indulging you. If I am, it’s quite a tame indulgence.”

  She smiled up at him. “Ah, I almost forgot. Your indulgences include peacock feathers and black ribbons. I’m particularly fascinated by the peacock feather–”

  He shook his head and groaned. “I noticed.”

  “And I am determined to discover what depraved purpose you use it for.”

  He growled softly. “Stop bringing it up or else I will show you, mercilessly and deliciously, until your body sings for me… only me.”

  He shouldn’t have said that, but her innocent curiosity fascinated him as much as that damn feather fascinated her. He loved the way her cheeks suddenly turned crimson and her eyes widened in lurid surprise.

  She laughed instead of berating him.

  He liked that Abby was innocent, but not a prude.

  There was a hidden naughty side to her that no man had yet drawn out. The possessive part of him wanted to be the first to teach her about lovemaking, and that same possessive part of him wanted to be the only man ever to make love to her. She was his.

  I’m the wolf. She’s my rabbit.

  Bollocks.

  When had he turned into a blithering idiot?

  He’d given his word to Coventry. He’d have to marry her if he ever touched her like that. Yet, that dire outcome did nothing to diminish his desire for the girl. She had a way of twisting him inside out. How ironic that she should wield such power over him when she had no idea what she was doing. “But the purpose of the peacock feather isn’t depraved. Perhaps improper, but that’s all.”

  “It sounds utterly and completely depraved,” she said, but he saw the curiosity in her eyes and knew she wasn’t nearly as shocked as she pretended to be.

  He stopped walking and tucked a finger under her chin, tipping her head upward to meet his gaze. He grinned wickedly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me explain it to you in a way your innocent mind will understand. There is a distinct and important difference between the terms improper and depraved. Using a peacock feather to enhance sexual arousal is improper. Having sex with the peacock is depraved.”

  She stared at him. “And you only use the feather?”

  Lord, help him!

  Did she think he kept a barnyard in his bedchamber?

  “Yes, only the feather. I do not take animals into my bed.”

  Bollocks.

  How had their conversation spiraled so completely out of control? He’d brought her to the park to ease her mind, not fill it with indecent conversation. He was about to apologize, when she suddenly giggled.

  The giggles soon turned into hearty laughter. “I do believe that W on your lapel pin stands for ‘wicked’ not ‘Westcliff’.”

  “Ah, you’ve found me out.” In truth, she had. The W was the discreet pin worn by members of the Wicked Earls’ Club. It was mere coincidence that his title happened to be Westcliff and started with a W.

  Her laughter faded, but she was still smiling and her eyes were still gleaming with mirth. “Perhaps that W stands for wonderful, too. That’s how you made me feel just now, Tynan. My brother’s words hurt me so deeply, I think I needed this bit of silliness to remind me not to despair.”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “Abby, don’t make me out to be heroic. I’m not.”

  Her smile turned wistful. “You needn’t worry about my holding any illusions about you. I see you clearly for what you are… peacock feathers and all.”

  He laughed.

  This was one of the things he liked about Abby. He could tease her, be playfully outrageous with her, and she took it all in good nature. There was no mock prudery or false indignation about her. No doubt she’d developed her resilience by growing up with four brothers. That she was so young and had already lost three of them should have left her bitter and angry.

  Instead, it had made her stron
g and compassionate.

  “We had better return home,” she said, now glancing around to make certain they hadn’t attracted too much attention. “I don’t want to keep Dr. Farthingale waiting. I hope he’s calmed my brother.”

  They turned back and entered the Whitpool townhouse a few moments before the doctor descended the stairs. “Miss Croft, I’ll return in the early evening. Your brother is still running a fever, but it is abating. Keep a close watch on him, especially as he improves. He’ll want to return to his opium club as soon as he finds the strength to climb out of bed.”

  She nodded. “My staff is taking turns guarding him.”

  “And I’ve hired Bow Street runners to watch this house,” Tynan added.

  Abby turned to him in surprise. “You have?”

  He nodded, knowing he ought to have mentioned it sooner, but he could see her calculating the cost of everything he offered, and didn’t want her worrying about all she believed she owed him. He would not accept repayment from her, but he wasn’t going to have that fight with her now. “They start this evening.”

  Since he intended to escort Abby to Lord Coventry’s home in a few hours, he decided to spend the rest of the day with her, accompanying her on her morning errands. She needed to prepare for an extended journey and had only a few days in which to ready herself and her brother. It was agreed that her maid, Sally, would serve as her chaperone. While the situation wasn’t perfect, the maid’s watchful presence was enough to lend propriety to their outing.

  Tongues would wag, but no permanent damage would be done. It could not be said that Abby had gone around town with him unsupervised.

  “Where shall we stop first?” he asked, admiring her organizational skills. She made lists for herself and for her brother. She carefully mapped out their route so that there was no time lost going from shop to shop, and was genuinely appreciative when he offered to cut the chores in half by taking on the task of shopping for her brother.

  “Are you certain you don’t mind, Lord Westcliff?” she asked, addressing him formally while they were in the company of Sally.

  “Not at all,” he replied, surprised that he did not feel imposed upon.

  He found it easy to be with Abby, enjoyed her smiles of delight and the fact that she made no demands on him. She was obviously relieved that he was willing to help, and at the same time would have been as understanding if he’d refused to assist her.

  While she made stops at her modiste and milliner, he went to the men’s shops on Regent Street.

  They met up again at one o’clock, having made inroads in their list of chores. After stopping at her home to drop off their purchases, they rode to Lord Coventry’s residence.

  Tynan hadn’t felt so at ease in years.

  He was almost gleeful by the time they were admitted into Coventry’s expansive home, for he was quite proud of Abby and looked forward to introducing her to the old earl. But all his good humor fled the moment they were shown into the drawing room. “Bastard,” Tynan muttered under his breath. “I should have known he’d pull something like this.”

  Abby regarded him with concern. “What’s wrong? Who are these people? And why are they gawking at me?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “THAT TALL WOMAN with the blindingly bright red hair who is grinning at you and appears about to suffocate you in her bosom… is my mother,” Tynan grumbled, standing at the entrance to Coventry’s drawing room and holding Abby back as though protecting her from hungry wolves. Well, perhaps it was a bit of an exaggeration.

  Abby’s gorgeous brandy eyes widened. “You have a mother?”

  He nodded. “Someone had to spawn me. She’s the culprit.”

  Abby laughed and shook her head. “Then I will make it a point to thank her. It never occurred to me that you might have parents, but of course you must. You didn’t simply descend from the heavens. Do you know the others?”

  “Yes. All of them, unfortunately.” Coventry, the wily, old fox, had not only invited – Lord, help him – his mother, but his brothers as well. He looked beyond the three, giant specimens who were his irritating brothers and saw more Brayden relatives. “In fact, I couldn’t get rid of the lot of them even if I wanted to. They’re my family.”

  She gasped and put a hand to her throat. “How lovely. Tynan, you’re so fortunate. I wish…”

  She clamped her lips shut, but he knew that she was wishing for a big, loving family of her own. She was desperate for it, he could see it in the bright glow of her eyes.

  He didn’t respond to her remark, for he knew that he ought to be grateful. In truth, he was, even though he rarely showed it. Abby, a girl with so much love in her heart that it spilled out of every pore of her beautiful body, had lost almost everyone she loved. She ached for exactly the family he had and would never have taken them for granted as he was doing. Indeed, he knew that he ought to have been a better son, a better brother, but at times, he found his responsibilities toward them suffocating.

  What had possessed Coventry to invite them? He liked the old man, but he was going to kill him for this hoax.

  James and Sophie were also present, to his relief. Sophie immediately rushed forward to greet Abby. “Come, meet Tynan’s mother,” she said with a gentle laugh, taking Abby’s hand and drawing her away from him. “His brothers as well.”

  Abby turned back to him, her eyes gleaming with mirth. Apparently, everyone thought this turn of events hilarious. “Oh, Tynan. You look as though your heart has just stopped. Don’t fret. I’m delighted to meet them all.”

  Sophie gave a snorting chortle. “I’ve never seen you at a loss for words before, Ty.”

  Well, he was at a loss. He didn’t want his closest blood relations here. He no longer wished to be here himself. And he certainly did not want Abby getting too friendly with any of them. He wasn’t ashamed of her, but he would not have his family believing that he was about to mend his rakehell ways.

  Coventry stepped forward and took Abby in an effusive hug. “Welcome, my dear.”

  Abby cast the old hound a heartwarming smile when he released her. “Thank you for inviting me into your home, Lord Coventry. And for your generous assistance.”

  Tynan growled.

  Abby shook her head and laughed again softly. “Lord Westcliff is still fuming, I fear. It is not well done of you to surprise him like this, my lord. But I think you and I shall get along quite well, for I see you have a wicked sense of humor and I have a desperate need for laughter in my life.”

  She glanced at Tynan, obviously wishing for him to get over this unpleasant surprise and be the one to introduce her to his family. He’d rather descend into the pits of hell. Why was his family here? And how quickly could he get rid of them?

  “You ought to have warned me of your intention,” Tynan said, curling his fists at his sides and still scowling at Coventry. Yes, the old earl was a dead man, he just didn’t know it yet.

  Coventry wasn’t in the least intimidated. “And deprive your family of the pleasure of meeting Miss Croft? May I call you Abigail? Yes, I shall do so, I think.” He now turned away from Tynan and spoke directly to Abby. “You’ve been seen around town with this wicked earl. He seems to think the presence of your maid is sufficient to protect your good name, but I know better. Nothing less than his family’s support and approval will do.”

  Tynan sighed in surrender. “Bollocks, keep away from her, Coventry. I can see already that you’ll be a bad influence. I’ll introduce Abigail to my family.”

  He felt like a fly trapped in a spider’s web. Struggling to escape was useless. He placed Abby’s hand on his forearm and led her to his mother. “Lady Miranda Grayfell, the woman solely to blame for the way I turned out,” he said, his humor returning now that he’d resigned himself to his fate. “And these giant nuisances are my brothers, Ronan, Joshua, and Finn. And this last young giant, is Romulus. He’s also a Brayden.”

  “He’s my baby brother,” James said, setting aside his cane to give he
r a warm greeting. “We have more siblings and aunts and… well, Coventry didn’t want to overwhelm you. The Braydens are a large family.”

  “In more ways than one,” Abby remarked, gazing up at all of them.

  Sophie moved to her side. “Yes, they’re as big as gladiators, aren’t they? But I have no doubt you’ll hold your own against them. I’m glad you’re here. Now I won’t be the only runt of the litter.”

  Abby and Sophie were of average height, but the Brayden men and women were tall, no doubt because a few Vikings had plundered their bloodline in the early centuries.

  Abby’s eyes grew misty.

  He understood what she was thinking. The Braydens could have resembled her family had her own brothers survived. Her hand was still resting on his forearm. When he felt her shiver, he settled his other hand over hers. “Abby?”

  “I’m all right. A little overwhelmed, but in the nicest way.” She turned to his mother and declined the handkerchief she was offering. “Lady Miranda, you’ve raised a wonderful son.”

  His mother arched an eyebrow. “I have?”

  Abby nodded. “The best. You ought to be very proud of him.”

  His brothers made gagging sounds.

  Ah, nothing like brothers to keep a man humble. He grabbed Joshua and Finn by the scruff of their necks and motioned for Ronan and Romulus to follow him. They were still young, not yet through with university, except for Ronan who had graduated a few months ago – shockingly, with honors – and was now helping him with the Westcliff family enterprises.

  Still, all of them were in the midst of sowing their wild oats and could not be trusted to be discreet. The discussion about Abby’s situation was not for their young ears. “Get lost until tea is served. Go play billiards. Or go jump in Coventry’s ridiculously oversized fountain. Or read a book. Can any of you read?”

  The boys took off like a stampeding herd of elephants.

  They were familiar with the Coventry residence, for the old earl and his countess were good friends and as close to the Brayden family as anyone could be.

 

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