The Legend of the Earl

by Eleanor Meyers

  He sighed and smiled. “I’m managing well.”

  Lord Bessborough nodded. “I saw you take Ms. Alexandra Smith into the house the other day with Mr. Reuben. He’s a good fellow to have around.”

  Justin moved closer to the man. “You know them?” He’d take any insight into Alexandra that he could.

  “I know Colonel Reuben,” the man said. “He worked for me before he joined the army. He was the best footman I ever had.”

  That was a mighty boon coming from Lord Bessborough. He ran a staffing business and everyone knew that to hire a man or woman from Bessborough was to gain a perfect servant and ally.

  He’d not known that Reuben was a colonel and was surprised that the man had said nothing about it. Then Justin thought about all he knew of the Smith family and ceased being surprised. They were a humble group. His sisters could learn so much from them. “Would you know of any good chaperones?” he asked, since he had a mind to relieve the one the girls currently had. The woman had let them run around London alone.

  Bessborough smiled. “If you stop by the office, I’m sure my staff can find you anyone you need.”

  Justin tipped his hat to the man and left.

  He found his way to Chris’ home once more, only this time Chris himself was at the door.

  “We’re having dinner. Go home and have dinner with your family,” Chris said.

  Justin didn’t want to have dinner, and he certainly didn’t want to do so with his sisters. He was actually in the mood for a scotch but decided to stay clear of that path for the moment.

  “May I speak to her?” Justin asked.

  “No.” Chris’ hand rested on the door, but he didn’t close it. Instead, he waited for more.

  “I would like to apologize for this afternoon.”

  “I’ll see that she receives it.”

  Justin frowned. “May I come by tomorrow?”

  “No. Good day, Lord Chantenny.” Chris started to close the door, a

  nd Justin let him do it.

  It was obvious that Alex was offended. He’d give her time before he tried again, but he had to speak to her soon.

  Justin returned home and found someone in his sitting room. His face was much more pleasant.

  Gerard rose. “I brought some manuscripts over that Lord Brewly thought you might translate for him.”

  Justin sighed. At the moment, he couldn’t wrap his mind around the translation of anything.

  “How’d the day go?” Gerard asked when he said nothing.

  Justin took off his jacket. “Can we move this to the parlor, and I’ll tell you over a single glass of scotch?”

  “No.” Gerard sat down again and smiled. “But your cook did make pie.”

  “Well.” Justin went over to the bell and rang. “Pie it is.”

  Once the pie and tea had been brought in, Justin said, “Shall I start with the fact that your father threatened me?”

  Gerard made a pained expression. “I’m sorry. What was it about this time? I would have sworn he’d be happy about what had been printed in the newspapers.”

  Speaking about the duke made Justin lose his appetite, and he put his plate on the table.

  He recalled believing the very same things that Gerard did when he’d walked into the duke’s office that morning, but why he and Gerard continued to try and understand Avon was beyond them. Justin was usually right when he assumed that the duke wanted to cause pain to someone.

  If only he’d thought that way when it had come to his mother. Perhaps if he had, Justin wouldn’t have felt as he did growing up around her, a strong pull of both love and hate until he felt his body being split from the middle.

  Until she'd died.

  Gerard put down his own plate and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “What are you planning to do?” With his eyes and open demeanor, Gerard claimed to be in all the way.

  Justin smiled and asked a question he’d asked a million times. “Why are you still my friend?”

  Gerard grinned but looked down at his hands. “I ask the same of you every day.” Then he lifted his head and looked at him, but the smile was gone. “Your pain may be because of me, because of our friendship.”

  “What?” Justin straightened. “I don’t understand. That’s not possible.”

  Gerard lifted a brow. “But isn’t it? My father has always thought his counsel the only counsel I need. He purposefully drives people out of my life so that only he remains. I just never thought he’d go so far as to threaten your happiness.” Gerard’s face looked pained. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize for him,” Justin said, growing angered by his friend’s hurt expression. “This is not your fault, so don’t let him make you believe it is. Besides, there’s no getting rid of me anyway. Let your father do his worst if that’s the case.”

  Gerard smiled, and his shoulders fell with a sigh. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “I was going to back away for a time,” Justin admitted. “But before I knew it, we were locked in a passionate embrace.”

  “Embrace?” his friend asked for clarity.

  Justin closed his eyes at the memory of it. “I can’t keep my hands off her, Gerard.”

  “I knew from the moment we met her that she was special,” Gerard said. “You should marry her. Never mind my father. Let him do what he wishes. I’ll simply undo it all when he’s dead.” The last words had been said tightly because even though Gerard detested Avon just as much as the rest of the world, like Justin with his own mother, Gerard still had an undeserving amount of love for him. “Propose,” Gerard went on. “Don’t let her see that there are better lords out there.”

  Justin chuckled, but his humor left him as his final memory of Alexandra surfaced. “I did propose... Well, almost anyway.”

  “What happened?” Gerard asked.

  “The Padmore Darlings got to her first.”

  Gerard reeled back and looked up at the ceiling as though Lucy Ann and Selina could hear him. Even Gerard, being an earl, didn’t much like crossing their paths. When they were sweet, they could be very sweet, but once they were cross with you they had a way of reaching into your soul and crushing it with their dainty hands, leaving only ashes to be swept away on the winds of disparity.

  “I’m sorry the Padmore Darlings ruined that for you,” Gerard whispered.

  Padmore Darlings was what the ton called them in jest. The girls were skilled at getting one to put down their guard just before they ripped them to pieces. More recently, the only thing 'darling' about them had been their faces. They could have been angels if they’d not been so cruel.

  Justin sighed. “Be glad you’ve only yourself to worry about.” Because worry he did for his sisters. “I was unkind to Lucy Ann tonight, not myself.”

  Gerard frowned. “Perhaps it’s because you finally found a woman you desired to share the rest of your life with, a woman who’s managed to get past the walls your mother constructed in her cruelty, and Lucy Ann is not helping.”

  Justin knew Gerard was right, yet though he’d tried to ignore it, he couldn’t get Lucy Ann’s final look out of his mind. He would hate to apologize for his behavior, but he thought it might be the right thing to do.

  But how to do so without them thinking they could get away with their awful behavior?

  He thought about dinner with the Smiths and how pleasant the family was as a whole. They weren’t even blood and still he could feel the invisible ropes that tied them together, bound through experience and trust.

  Was such a thing even possible with Lucy Ann and Selina?

  He admitted that he’d tried to be brotherly when they’d been children, but one look from his mother had warned him away. The countess was no longer here to barricade him, so why not take the chance and see what came of it?

  Justin cursed. “I think I might apologize to my sisters.”

  He looked over and found Gerard shaking his head.

  “What?” Justin asked.

 
Gerard smiled. “I feel like the old you is returning. A good man apologizes when he feels as though he’s acted in error. You’re a good man, Justin.”

  Justin smiled. “Is that a lesson you learned from your father?”

  Gerard laughed. “No. My grandfather, may he rest in peace.”

  Justin remembered the old Duke of Avon. He’d been much like Lord Bessborough, a pleasant man. There was strain between Gerard and his father, but Justin didn’t want strain between himself and his sisters. Especially not if he was to bring another person into the family. His father wouldn’t have wanted that.

  It had been a long time since he could recall what his father would and wouldn’t want. Yet another benefit to sobriety, he supposed.

  Justin stood. “I’d better go deal with them.”

  Gerard lifted his tea at Justin’s retreat. “Good luck.”

  Justin thanked him, for he had a feeling he would need it.

  * * *

  17

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

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  Nash’s voice broke the silence. “Ms. Alexandrea Smith, meet Lady Emma Honeysett.” He spoke loudly, as though it was not the first time he’d addressed her.

  “Are you ill?” Lady Emma asked.

  Alex looked up at the beautiful woman who stood gracefully at the sitting room entrance. There was a teasing in her blue gaze, a lapis shade that matched her dark gown, which was highlighted with golden thread. Her red hair was pulled away with a wisp of curls dangling from her ears.

  She was the embodiment of a lady in every way.

  It took Alex a moment to remember the woman’s name. She recalled the story the papers had written about Lady Emma Honeysett a few years ago. Then she remembered that the woman had asked her a question and she responded, “I am well.”

  “Then don’t slouch, dear,” Lady Emma said, coming farther into the room. She was still smiling. “I can see we’ve much to do and with very little time, but no matter. I assure you that by the ball, you’ll be ready.”

  Alex stood, still gazing at her, and her eyes turned to Nash. “You asked Lady Emma Honeysett to teach me how to be a lady?”

  Nash held her eyes and said, “Yes.” What he didn’t say with words he said with a very stern expression—that Alex was not to offend the woman in any way. How Nash had met the lady was yet another mystery.

  Emma, seeming to understand where Alex’s thoughts had gone, said, “I assure you that whatever you gain from me will not embarrass you. Even our acquaintance doesn't have to be known if that is what you wish.”

  Alex's gaze turned back to the lady. Though the woman still wore a smile, Alex felt as though her words had been spoken about herself. It reminded her of her encounter with Justin’s sisters a few days ago.

  Two days, to be exact.

  In that time, Justin had only come by once, that first night when she’d not wanted to speak to him. Since then, she’d not even received a note. He’d likely moved on, already forgetting her. Who knew if she was still invited to the ball at all. Nonetheless, she’d prepare.

  And before her stood a woman not far from her own age who’d been a lady since birth. Never mind the scandal that had overtaken London two years ago. What Lady Honeysett had to offer would be pure gold, and Alex would take no issue with telling the world where she’d received her lessons.

  She smiled at Emma and said, “I’d be delighted for you to instruct me.”

  “Excellent.” The woman visibly brightened and then turned to Nash. “You may leave us, and do send a footman in an hour for dance lessons.” The woman had obviously been preparing for their lessons.

  Nash bowed, gave one last look to Alex, then departed.

  “Let us take a seat.” Emma moved toward the couch, and Alex watched as her body seemed to be lowered by the hands of angels into the seat, as though her fall was cushioned by clouds of air. Alex wasn’t sure she could mimic such polish but tried her best.

  Emma smiled and said, “Very good.”

  “I’m sure it was awful,” Alex said. “I felt silly doing it, like a well-trained circus elephant, sitting with all the grace of a beast.”

  Emma covered her mouth to suppress a laugh, her eyes squinting with amusement before she settled. “Nothing about you makes me think of something so horrible. But do be prepared to feel silly doing many things at first. Don’t worry, no one will notice if you control your expressions, and control your expressions you must. You have a very expressive face, Ms. Smith, and though I enjoy it, polite society will not.”

  “Are you not a part of polite society?” Alex asked before she could stop herself. She closed her eyes with embarrassment. “My apologies. I’m sure I’m not supposed to ask such things.”

  “You’re not,” the lady told her honestly. “At least not until we’re better acquainted.” She offered a smile before she spoke again. “I’ve managed to become accepted in some circles, but not many.”

  Alex imagined that the circles that did accept her were quite small. Lady Emma had become exiled for a crime that many of the Beau Monde were guilty of. The overuse of laudanum. Opium had ruined her life to the point that she’d been banned from parties and balls for years. It was only in the last few years that she’d heard rumors that the woman was finally sober. That news, of course, had not been printed in the newspapers, as the papers only liked to speak of tragedy. What had pushed Lady Emma toward her addiction, Alex didn’t know, and neither did the ton. She was only glad that the woman had found her way out before it ruined her beauty and what remained of her life.

  Still, she doubted any man would court her. She would likely die a spinster.

  “How do you know Nash?” Alex asked, not only wishing to understand the lady better, but also her own brother.

  Emma lowered her gaze but not her chin. Her chin never fell. “Nash has requested that I not tell you, though I can’t understand why.” She lifted her gaze and held Alex’s before she said, “But I will say that Nash saved my life.”

  Something in Alex settled at hearing that. Nash had saved a life, so whatever he did that the family was not privy to couldn’t be that bad, could it?

  “Now.” Emma grinned. “Let us start with some light conversation. I’ll admit you speak very well for a woman who grew up without a tutor.”

  “Best Homes have sponsors who pay for teachers. We learn to read and write, basic mathematics, and domestic skills. Also, my sister Rose and I enjoy the library. She’s employed there now,” Alex told her. “She’s probably read everything that’s passed through the door, but I've read more about French cuisine than anything else.” The library was probably the best thing that had happened for Rose. She’d been at the library so often that they’d offered her employment without her ever asking for it. She’d been there since before leaving Best Homes.

  Reading had become their escape from the orphanage; the stories had led Alex to dream of a better life and future. Yet never would she have dreamed that one of her parents was a lord, a viscount.

  “I’m glad for you,” Emma said quickly. “It must be wonderful having so much family about.”

  Alex grunted, a sound she knew she shouldn’t make.

  She thought Emma might change her mind if she’d lived with her brother, Chris, for the last few days.

  Then again, she thought Emma would enjoy spending an entire afternoon getting fitted with day dresses and more gowns than she’d ever need. Chris had told her they were ‘just in case’ before leaving to deal with ‘business matters’ which she still didn’t understand.

  And then there had been more fittings the following day as the seamstress had been able to alter a few complete dresses to match her body.

  Alex was currently in one of those creations, a white day dress with puffy sleeves that made her feel like a bird.

  Emma’s sleeves were also puffed, but her dress was dark and a color
Alex was told she couldn’t wear until she married. Emma had married, and her husband had died, thus the dark blue gown.

  Her greatest moments for the past two days had been when Chris had delivered the ledgers from the toy store. She had also managed to slip back to the orphanage to help prepare for the musical while speaking to the elder children about their plans once they left the orphanage. The latter was something that Alex did with a few other friends who had grown out of Best Homes—people who she trusted would not give away her location to the newspapers—and made something of themselves. However, both children and staff alike had had other plans for her. They’d heard the latest news to sweep London and had asked her a million questions, many of those questions surrounding the revered Lord Chantenny. Even some of the girls who were but fifteen had heard of the earl who didn’t take part in Society.

  These had been her only escape from the women and their needles.

  Alex wrinkled her nose. “I lived in an orphanage. I always wanted fewer people about. A moment of silence would have done me well. I suppose there was the benefit of never being alone when one got into trouble or the fact that just when you thought yourself mad, there was always someone else to prove that perhaps you’re sane after all… or at least not alone in your madness.” She smiled.

  Emma held back another laugh. “Oh, dear, Ms. Smith. I fear changing anything about you. You have your own style of charm. We’ll have to find a way to keep you the way you are while giving you simple refinement.”

  The words reminded her of words that had been similarly spoken to her by Justin.

  And yet, where was he now?

  “I read that you are to be escorted by Lord Chantenny. There will be many a lady to envy you.”

  “Do you know him?” Alex asked before she could stop herself. “My apologies. Is that another personal question?”