The Earl Claims a Bride

by Amelia Grey

  “Mr. Greyhawke must share in that, my lord. I know you and Bray recently went to see him. Tell me, how is he doing now that it’s more than a year past his tragedy?”

  “It’s difficult to speak for anyone else, but we thought he seemed better.”

  “Good. Have you seen Bray tonight?”

  “No, but I haven’t been here long.”

  “Hmm,” she said, and for some reason she pretended to be distracted for a moment. “How about Miss Rule? Have you seen her?”

  “She’s on the dance floor.”

  The duchess raised her eyebrows. “Yes, I thought you would know exactly where she was.”

  Harrison realized too late that he had just been fooled by the duchess. “It’s hard for a gentleman to miss such a lovely lady.”

  “I’m sure,” she replied. “When you speak to her will you tell her I want to see her? I want to ask her about a fan.”

  “You are assuming I will speak to her?”

  Her Grace smiled again. “Oh, you will.”

  The duchess opened her fan and Harrison saw a beautiful white peacock with its tail spread wide. His body went still. He’d seen that fan at Angelina’s house the day she painted it. How did the duchess get it?

  “This is lovely, isn’t it?” she said, looking down at the fan.

  “Very,” Harrison agreed, keeping his voice level and feigning disinterest.

  “It’s by the same artist who paints Miss Rule’s fans.”

  Harrison had no doubt of that. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about fans.”

  “No reason you should. I have a question for Miss Rule about the artist.”

  So do I.

  “I hear the artist also paints miniatures and mourning boxes,” the duchess continued.

  Yes she does.

  “If I see Miss Rule, would you like for me to tell her you’re looking for her?

  “Yes, do that for me, my lord. And give my regards to my son when you see him as well.” She closed the fan and walked away.

  Harrison’s body tightened. Oh, yes, he knew Angelina had painted that fan, and the duchess knew it, too. The duchess didn’t miss anything.

  So Miss Angelina Rule knew how to break Society’s rules when she wanted to. But if she was doing what he thought she was, he had a few things to say to her. He knew she and her grandmother were looking for a way to pay her father’s debts, and now he knew why she was always painting.

  He wanted answers from Angelina, and he couldn’t get them fast enough to suit him.

  Harrison had been coming to the Great Hall for over ten years. He knew every dark corridor, every servants’ door, every nook and cranny. He intended to find a place he could talk to Angelina where they wouldn’t be disturbed.

  As soon as the gentleman escorted Angelina back to her grandmother, Harrison spoke hastily to Lady Railbridge. To Angelina he said, “Come with me for a glass of champagne, Miss Rule.”

  Then not giving her time to accept or reject him, Harrison touched her elbow and guided her away from her grandmother.

  She stopped and lifted her arm away from his. “Excuse me, my lord, but didn’t you promise to give me time to accept or reject an offer from you before just rushing me away?”

  Harrison was in no mood for this but he said, “I didn’t forget, but I have something very important to discuss with you. Would you please join me?”

  She nodded.

  Instead of taking her to the champagne table, he whisked her out a servants’ door hidden behind one of the large fluted columns. The corridor was dimly lit. He knew they would see a servant or two pass by them, but in all his years of sneaking young ladies out for a few kisses, he’d never had a servant say a word to them or tattle.

  “Why are we going in here? Where does this lead?”

  “The servants use it. Don’t worry, we’re going no farther than a few feet from the door.”

  She stood under the yellow glow of a lamp. Her hair sparkled. The low neckline of her dress showed the beautiful swell of her lovely breasts, and a row of garnets hung around her neck. Her face was still tight. Something was wrong with her. But he’d find out about that later. First things first.

  “I saw something tonight.”

  She blinked. “Something that would be of interest to me?”

  “Yes. A fan.”

  Her eyes twitched at the corners, just enough to give her away. He didn’t really have to say anything more.

  “There are many fans in a ballroom, my lord. Which one are you referring to?”

  “Have you noticed how you call me my lord when you feel you are telling me something I won’t like?”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  Her eyes searched his. There was something unreadable in hers and he was trying to figure out what it was that was bothering him. “It’s true. Why don’t you have a fan with you tonight?”

  She looked down at her gloved hands and for a moment he thought she was looking at something that wasn’t there. “I don’t know. I guess I forgot to bring one.”

  “You forgot, or is it that you don’t have one?”

  Her lids flew up. She looked at him with her black-fringed, blue eyes. She moistened her lips and backed against the wall. “Of course, I____I have plenty of fans. Why are you questioning me about this? Surely you don’t care whether or not I have a fan with me. Nor did you need to drag me into this darkened corridor to ask me about it.”

  “I remember the night the duchess stopped us and was interested in your fans, and I told you she would buy them.”

  Angelina kept silent. A sadness filled her eyes, and he knew for sure what she had done.

  “You sold her your fans?”

  “No—no.” Her chest heaved.

  He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her shoulders. “Why?”

  “No,” she said again, and then quickly added, “Yes, if you must know. I sold my fans to the duchess. I sold my snuffboxes, my mourning boxes. Everything else I’ve ever painted. I sold it all!”

  His stomach tightened. She was too bold and daring for her own good.

  “To who?”

  “To who, Angelina?” he asked again.

  Tears filled her eyes. She looked away and shook her head. “Most of it to a shopkeeper. The rest to the duchess.”

  The thought of her going into a shop and selling her paintings hit Harrison hard. Damn, she was filled with more courage and determination than he’d given her credit for. He’d known she wanted, planned to do something to pay her father’s debts so she would be free to marry Captain Maxwell, but Harrison had always assumed that help would come from Lady Railbridge finding a private source to loan her father more money. Harrison never dreamed Angelina would sell her artwork.

  “Tell me which shop and I’ll buy it back for you.”

  She frowned. “I don’t want it back. Besides, it didn’t do any good,” she whispered. “It was—I thought I was helping.”

  Please don’t cry, Harrison thought. He never wanted to be responsible for making her cry.

  He spoke quietly, soothingly. “Angelina, do you have any idea how much your father owes? You could never sell enough fans and paintings to buy him out of prison.”

  “You’re wrong!” she said earnestly. “I did get enough. I didn’t do it by myself, I had help, but I gave Papa enough money to pay his debts.”

  Harrison stiffened. How? He leaned in close to her. “What kind of help did you get?”

  “A man named Bishop Worsley took the money and multiplied it by gambling.”

  “Damnation, Angelina,” he said, taking hold of her shoulders. “Did your grandmother agree to this?”

  “She knew about it, yes.”

  “Why would you do something that risky? Why would you involve yourself with a professional gambler?”

  “You know why,” she whispered softly. I wanted to be free to make my own choice. To marry who I pleased because it was my decision and not because I was being forced.”
r />   She pushed hard on his chest, shoving him away from her. Her hands did little to hurt him but her words cut like a blade.

  “This is what you have been doing. You have been painting every day so you wouldn’t have to marry me.”

  “You nor anyone else I didn’t want to marry,” she said on a choked-back sob. “I gave the money to my father. He has it now.”

  Harrison sucked in a deep breath. She was free now to marry anyone she wished. He shouldn’t have been surprised by what she’d done, but he was. He knew she liked to take care of things, people, and dogs. It stood to reason she would do everything possible to take care of her father’s debts, too. She’d told him she would, but he had underestimated her.

  He wouldn’t be guilty of that again.

  “I would have paid your father’s debts,” Harrison said.

  “My father is not your responsibility. He’s mine and I took care of him.”

  “And now you are free to marry the captain.”

  She wouldn’t look at him. Harrison’s first thought was that he’d lost again. He’d vowed he would never fight for another lady, but he had. Angelina was worth it. And he had fought fairly. But he knew what Angelina didn’t seem to know yet. She didn’t love Maxwell.

  Without further thought he took hold of her arms again and said, “I love you, Angelina. I want to marry you.”

  Her head jerked up and her eyes watered again. Her chest heaved. “You lie.”

  “No. You know I have many vices, little patience, no boundaries, and I ignore rules, but I do not lie. I love you. Say you’ll marry me.”

  Her eyes searched his face. For a moment he thought she would agree but then she said, “I can’t.”

  He winced inside. “It’s time for you to make up your mind who you love, Angelina. Captain Maxwell or me.”

  It was the most difficult thing he’d ever done, but Harrison turned her loose and walked back through the servants’ door and into the ballroom.

  He headed toward the exit. He loved her. He wasn’t sure he knew it until after he’d said it. There was never any doubt he wanted her. From the moment he saw her, he wanted her to be his. Now he knew he loved her and he wanted her to know it, too.

  Walking slowly, he headed for the exit. He hoped she’d come after him. He wanted her to come after him and tell him she loved him, too.

  But she didn’t.

  Chapter 28

  I did love you once.

  Hamlet 3.1.115

  It had been raining since Angelina awoke.

  Saying good-bye to a long-held dream wasn’t easy. she’d worried all night and all morning that she might not be strong enough to do it when the time came. She was sad, and anxious, but before she could tell Harrison she loved him, she had to tell Captain Maxwell she didn’t love him and couldn’t marry him. It was the right thing to do. She owed it to him to be honest with him about her feelings before she committed to Harrison.

  She sat on the settee with Captain Maxwell, her grandmother dutifully in a chair sipping tea. Angelina had asked the captain to come over. She would always smile when she saw him, feel such pride at knowing him, but without the passion or desire for him, she couldn’t marry him. She had to let him know that she loved Lord Thornwick.

  “Granna,” Angelina said, “would you mind giving me a few minutes alone with Captain Maxwell?”

  “Oh, that wouldn’t be proper, dear. You know that.”

  “You needn’t go too far, Granna, and it won’t be for long. Please give us a short time together.”

  Her grandmother searched her eyes. “Well, I____are you sure you want to do this, Angelina?”

  “Yes, please.” She knew her grandmother thought she wanted time alone so the captain could propose to her. The captain probably thought that, too.

  There was no need to sit back down after her grandmother left the room. Captain Maxwell wouldn’t be staying long.

  He surprised her by taking hold of her hands and saying, “Thank you for arranging for us to be alone.” He smiled and looked down into her eyes. “I had hoped we could have a few minutes so I could properly ask you to marry me before I speak to your father. I was too hasty when we were in the park.”

  Rain had fogged the windows. The low-burning fire hadn’t taken the chill off the room. Captain Maxwell’s grip was strong and warm, yet still Angelina pulled her hands out of his and stepped away. She wondered if this would have been easier had it been a beautiful, sunny day.

  When she looked at him, so handsome in his red coat with its shiny gold buttons, braids, and epaulets, a sword by his side, she wavered. But then Harrison with his teasing smile and passionate embrace came to mind, and she found all the courage she needed.

  “Captain,” she said. “I asked you to come over today so I could tell you I can’t marry you.”

  He blinked fast and continued to stare at her. “It’s the patch,” he said with no emotion.

  She’d feared he would think that. “No,” she said firmly. She would not let him accuse her of that again.

  “You say that, yet you won’t marry me.” He stepped closer to her. “You are the one who gave me a reason to live when all I wanted to do was die. I’d remember your sweet smile, and I’d tell myself I had to come back for you. I never thought I’d be good enough for you because of my scarring, but I knew you were waiting for me. I had to take the chance you would accept me as I am.”

  “Your appearance has nothing to do with my feelings.”

  “When I came home you encouraged me to call on you. I thought you had decided you could live with the way I look.”

  Her gaze searched his face intently. She needed him to understand. “I encouraged you because I had hopes I’d still have the same feelings for you that I did when you left.”

  Captain Maxwell hit his chest over his heart with his fist. “I still have the same feelings for you.”

  It broke her heart to say, “But I don’t have them for you.”

  “The patch and my scarring offend you,” he said roughly. “Just say it.”

  “No,” she insisted adamantly. “That isn’t true so stop saying it. It has nothing to do with your patch or the scarring. Your manner and treatment of me are perfect. You are a true gentleman. It has nothing to do with you. It’s me.”

  “Stop trying to spare my feelings, Miss Rule. Please give me the dignity of the truth. You’re beautiful and I am a monster with one eye. I have horrid scars. You will have to look at them every day of your life. Our children would have to look at me. Their friends will make fun of me.”

  “You don’t know what you are saying,” she declared, feeling her own temper flaring because he refused to believe her. “I wanted to love you, Captain. I did love you at one time, but not anymore and not because of your appearance. I haven’t wanted to tell you I can’t marry you for fear you’d assume exactly what you are thinking. My decision has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.” Her voice softened. “I was sixteen when I first saw you. I loved you the way a sixteen-year-old loves the first handsome gentleman she sees. You were older, a soldier, and so dashing in your uniform. I don’t know any way to say it other than my love for you didn’t grow up with me. I love someone else.”

  “The earl.”

  “Yes,” she answered quietly. “I’m in love with him. I wanted it to be you. You were the first man to set my heart to fluttering. I dreamed about you while you were away, and when you returned I tried to force myself to love you because I wanted to so badly. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make it happen. I have great respect for you, but I don’t love you.”

  He shook his head and said, “I can make you happy. I know I can.”

  “No. I don’t know if Lord Thornwick wants me after, after some things I have said to him, but I must try to make him see that I love him, and I want to be his wife.”

  “Oh, he wants you, Miss Rule,” the captain said bitterly. “You can be sure of that. But he will never love you, or be true to you,
or be good to you.”

  In her heart, Angelina knew Captain Maxwell was wrong. Harrison had already been good to her in so many ways. He agreed to saying he would marry her at the end of the Season when, at the time, it was the last thing he wanted to do. He took her to the shelter where she could send wounded animals. He allowed her to take her time and realize that the captain was not the man she loved after all.

  “I don’t think you are right in that, Captain. I believe Lord Thornwick loves me and that he will be true to me. But in any case, it’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  “My injury doesn’t keep me from being a man.” He spoke harshly. “I want, I feel, I get angry.”

  “I know,” she agreed.

  “The earl doesn’t deserve you. I do!”

  “That is enough, Captain,” she said, feeling annoyance rising again. “There’s nothing more I can say. I think it’s time you left.”

  “You can say it is love for the scoundrel that pleases you, but I know why you have told me no. I know that it’s because you are afraid when I make you mine, you will be repulsed by me.”

  She flinched at his words. “How dare you say that? How dare you suggest I am that weak and shallow? You may be thinking that, but I would not be.” Anger fierce and hot rose up in her. Without thinking, she reached up and yanked the patch off his head.

  He yelled and covered that side of his face with his hand. “Give it back!” He lunged for the patch with his other hand. She quickly snatched it behind her back. He grabbed her again and tried to reach around her.

  “Why did you do that? Give it to me.”

  “No!” Angelina struggled with him. She tried to pull his hand away from his face while he tried to reach behind her back. “I will look at you!” She struggled, wadding the patch tightly in her fist.

  “Give it to me!”

  “No! Look at me. I will prove you are the one who is afraid of what you look like. It is not me. It’s you!”

  Captain Maxwell yelled something about her being a wicked woman who led him on a merry chase. Suddenly he brought his hands down and grabbed both her upper arms and held her like a vise. He was so irate he forgot that the injured side of his face wasn’t covered. There wasn’t a gaping black hole as she’d imagined. The lid was closed as if he were asleep. It wasn’t even anything that would make her take a second look if she passed him on the street.