The Legend of the Earl

by Eleanor Meyers

  “Lord Chantenny.”

  He turned and stilled as Lord Tyrell brought over his wife and daughter. He’d only ever seen the daughter from afar, as the girl had been too young to be in Society when Justin had attended parties years ago.

  It seemed Miss Tyrell would be the first woman of the peerage he’d met in nearly five years.

  Lucky her.

  Though they’d never met before, he noticed how Miss Tyrell’s pale blue eyes widened slightly as she extended her hand. Her breath was rushed, and her shoulders tight.

  She’d heard about him, it appeared.

  This was the moment when Justin would usually walk away, claiming to be ill or to need air.

  Always, he did it for them, to keep the ugliness away from them, to leave them unblemished.

  Lord Tyrell stiffened his back and lifted his chin in an effort to appear taller. The whole family was small, though it suited them. “Lord Chantenny, I would like you to meet my daughter, Miss Harriet.”

  Justin lifted his hand and heard Harriet’s slight gasp as their fingers touched.

  Immediately, his hand seemed hot. He wanted to snatch it away, but instead he grasped it, probably much too tightly, and then forced himself to take his time as he leaned over to brush his lips over her hand.

  His stomach turned, and he had to fight back the urge to vomit as he pulled away. “Lovely to meet you, Miss Harriet.” He spoke faster than he’d intended, so he ended the statement with a smile.

  Tyrell’s daughter brightened and looked ready to leap into his arms. Instead she rocked on her toes before leaning back, her face warming before ducking away with shyness.

  She’d have a story to tell her friends in the morning. The Earl of Chantenny had finally touched a girl of blue stock. Justin only hoped that the girl didn’t think it was because he found her attractive.

  She was pretty, he would admit. Her hair was a dark shade of blond and her face round and skin pleasant enough, but she was but a babe to him.

  And besides, his heart already belonged to a woman he’d not seen for quite some time.

  Alex had disappeared in the kitchens to help the staff once the musical had gotten underway, with Reuben and the two guards following her. Justin had gone with her when they’d first arrived and had watched her work the kitchens like a drill sergeant preparing for war.

  Now, the scents from the buffet table called to him. So after a quick greeting to Tyrell’s wife and a conversation about the music, Justin excused himself and moved toward the food. The pleasant savory fragrances burned at his stomach, and his thoughts became more primitive, hunger overruling everything else.

  When was the last time he’d eaten?

  He lifted a slice of a dark and tempting meat pie in his hand, and it had barely touched his plate before he was taking some to his mouth.

  Pleasure was triggered on his tongue and traveled through him before coming out in a deep moan.

  “It’s the sauce,” a pleased voice whispered from behind a stone column and tree at the corner of the table. Alexandra peeked out before slipping behind the column and lush green branches once more.

  Justin moved in her direction and slipped behind the tree, joining her in the shadows.

  She was not to be out while the members of society roamed. He’d been there when Lady Charles advised this and had taken great care not to not give the woman a piece of his mind.

  “What are you doing out here?” he whispered.

  Her gray eyes looked darker without direct light, but just as stunning surrounded by her full lashes. “I wanted to see if everyone liked the food.”

  Justin took another bite from his plate and had to hold himself together in order not to moan again. “You made this?” he said.

  She nodded. “I started with a roux and added beef stock and a few seasonings before cooking the meat...” She used her hands as she continued to give him details as to how she’d prepared what would have been a simple pie in anyone else’s hands but hers.

  Justin had no clue what she was speaking about but was fascinated by how her eyes glowed with warmth and the brilliant smile that stayed through it all. Even her hands and those small fingers called to him.

  After realizing he’d finished the pie, Justin thought to get more… but then he thought to taste something else instead.

  His mouth captured her next word, and Alexandria leaned in and placed a hand on the back of his neck before she broke away again.

  Her eyes were closed. “Then you add the tomatoes in the end.” Her words came out in a flutter of breaths. “While the... sauce is still hot and... thickening.”

  He grinned and kissed her again. Her cheeks flushed, and it trailed down her neck. Justin’s mouth followed, finding her just as good if not better than the pie. Or perhaps she was like a fine wine and paired with the dish very nicely.

  She sighed and pulled away. For a moment, they did nothing but hold each other’s eyes, hers so warm and inviting.

  “I saw you greet that woman.” She said this with a small smile. “You took her hand.”

  His heart began to race, and he gave a slight nod.

  “She wasn’t right, you know,” she whispered, her hand sliding from his neck down to his chest, over where his heart pounded away. He was sure she could feel it beat, pulsing underneath her hand. It was hers to take, to hold.

  Even when she irritated him to no end.

  The ‘she’ Alex referred to was his mother. His mother always stood between them, even though she’d been dead for years and Alex had never known her. Would she never just accept him for what he was and let the matter go?

  He had a feeling she wouldn’t. She would chisel away at him until he broke and shattered into a million pieces, pouring his heart out before her in an endless river of blood.

  He’d thought the change in her swift. She’d been hot then cold, believing it best they remain apart, but without notice becoming hot again, and Justin felt as though the sun shone directly on him in that moment.

  He soaked it in, even though his heart knew it was pity that drove her back to him. She wanted to heal him, but what were her true feelings?

  He knew what they would be if she learned the truth, learned that he could not be fixed, that he could only portray a man who was mildly civilized.

  He took hold of her hand and kissed her fingers. “I’ll let you return to your duties.”

  “Justin.” Her eyes pleaded with him. Pitying him.

  He let her go, though it was hard, and turned away before walking back across the room. If she wished to continue in this way then they could very well continue as man and wife, because Justin was set on having her.

  * * *

  26

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SIX

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  “He won’t speak of it.” Alex gripped the borders of the window as the rain fell two days later. She’d been standing there since she’d seen Reuben leave moments ago. Reuben only remained at the house while Justin was there so he could protect her virtue, or whatever was left of it. Otherwise, her guards were protection enough from whatever threats lay outside the walls of Justin’s townhouse.

  She watched a blackbird fight the wind and rain and nearly topple over before it got its bearings, surging through the sky.

  Would the weather ever tire? It was terribly gray outside. How could one try and bring about happiness when the sky brought so much gloom?

  “I wonder if there is truly anything to speak of,” Lady Emma said from some distance again. The sound of china clinking and settling on a wood surface told Alex that the woman still sat on the couch. Today’s lessons had been on tea service, but Alex had already known how to do it. When one served food, one should also worry about its presentation. Alex had made the cakes that had been set out to accompanied the hot brew. She had also sent a maid up with a few for Selina and Lucy Ann to try. They were
for the tea service that would take place after the dinner that night.

  She’d been forbidden from cooking. Lucy Ann had almost had a fit when Alex had suggested it.

  In fact, Alex would never forget the woman’s words.

  “They’ll already try and see you as nothing more than a servant. Preparing dinner would not only give them fuel for the fire, but you might as well slap the flint to steel yourself.” Then she’d left the room in a huff.

  The cake, however, had gotten her a different reaction.

  “Give them flint, give them steel, but let them eat cake!”

  That had at least lifted her spirits somewhat.

  Actually, she and Lucy Ann had fallen into a heap of laughter and giggles, so that had given her yet another boost toward elation, but eventually, her mind had returned to Justin.

  He was in session and would not get out until late that evening, probably just in time for the dinner, if not before or after. He’d instructed them not to wait for him, as Parliament was known to last long, but when Alex had tried to speak to him alone at the door, he’d cut her off the only way that ever worked—with his mouth—and left.

  But not before saying, “Session isn’t so bad when I have you here to look forward to.”

  Alex’s heart had melted into her shoes and had she not been holding onto the door handle when he’d departed, she was sure the rest of her would have followed.

  Those words were almost enough for her to put her worries aside and simply take whatever he would offer. No one truly shared all their secrets, did they?

  Of course, Alex couldn’t think of any of her own, except perhaps the fact that she enjoyed her own cakes a little too much and indulged when she shouldn’t.

  She glanced over her shoulder, ignoring the two guards who stood against the wall—a habit that was becoming easier every day—and witnessed Emma finish yet another small cake from the tray. She only grinned at getting caught.

  Emma covered her mouth. “You really shouldn’t have made so many.”

  “I like to work in the kitchen when I’m upset.”

  “Turnips are always available. Try soup next time.”

  Alex laughed and moved over to the couch. “I’ll try a soup next time. Though a white sauce might work well with the turnips and perhaps some cooked veal.”

  Emma moaned and said, “If I lived with you, I believe I’d grow a by a full stone a month.”

  Alex smiled and turned at the sound of footsteps. The butler arrived and behind him stood two faces that brightened her day.

  She went over and gave Rose a hug and then Chris.

  “We don’t have long,” Chris told her. “I only came to bring you the ledger.” He presented the large book with one hand.

  Alex grabbed onto it with both hands, as though the book could very well save her life. The ledgers always worked to distract her. When she tried to take it, she was met with resistance and looked up at Chris.

  His voice was as plain as his expression. “I’ll start looking for another manager since there’s no way a countess can run a store.”

  Had his aim been to give her apoplexy, he’d aimed true. Alex would have gripped her heart had she not wanted the ledger more. “I can very well run a store and be a countess.” She was only glad that Rose and Emma had begun their own conversation on the other side of the room and weren’t listening.

  They’d met each other when Rose came to visit the other day.

  Chris lifted a brow. “Countesses don’t run stores. They run charities or committees.”

  Becoming a part of a committee almost made her stomach turn, t

  hough he was right.

  She couldn’t very well do both, could she? Run a store and be an attentive wife to an earl? And more so, Chris would never allow it. Though he ran a store, he didn’t like attention drawn to anything but the toys, especially anything that drew attention to himself. He’d never let her remain at her position.

  Besides, Lucy Ann would claim her to be slapping flint and steel once more.

  “He’s not offered for me again,” she whispered.

  “He will,” he said just as quickly.

  “How do you know?”

  Chris looked past her. “He’s already asked my permission.” Then he moved around her and started toward the table where the cake tray sat.

  Alex, for the second time that day, felt as though she would melt to the ground. She hated the way her brothers delivered messages. Still, Chris’ words made her happy enough to weep tears. “Were you supposed to tell me?”

  Chris shrugged and popped cake into his mouth, never caring to take a plate. Chris had a sweet tooth, which Alex had used as a secret weapon to get her way in the past.

  “Tell her what?” Rose asked.

  He finished a bite. “Justin asked for her hand.” Then he took yet another bite. The cakes would be done before he left, but Alex was unbothered.

  Emma gasped, and Rose squealed with happiness.

  “You’re going to be a countess!” Rose said as she quickly ran back over to Alex to give her another hug. “Oh, it’s so much better than a fairy tale!”

  Alex agreed, though she couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in her heart. She had no doubts that she wanted to be Justin’s wife. She only wished that he would trust her. But marriages had been founded on less than what they had. She was in love. That would be enough for now, wouldn’t it?

  She was getting married. There were so many new things to worry about. “Did you offer a dowry? I’ve saved so much over the years since you wouldn’t let me pay a bill. I could pay it.”

  Chris had finished the cakes and was now cleaning his hands with his handkerchief, slowly. His eyes narrowed on her as he pocketed it. “Keep your money.”

  “Did you offer a dowry?” she pressed.

  “Of course, I did.” He was glaring now, the color of his eyes becoming enriched with amber. His entire body became as still as stone and his look dared her to speak again.

  Emma started for the door. “Perhaps I should not be here for this conversation. I’ll simply… step away.” No one stopped her as she left, and Rose reluctantly followed.

  Alex hesitated as she stared at her brother. Chris could be quite scary when he wished to be. “Chris, you didn’t have to.”

  “I did.”

  “Well, surely… Chantenny didn’t take it.”

  He prowled toward her, and Alex lifted her chin, refusing to retreat even as he loomed over her, blocking what little light the lamps in the room had given off. He’d not hurt her. He'd never hurt her. Even when they’d been young, and she’d deserved it—broken some wooden contraption he’d been working on, spilled a secret in utter innocence, getting him into trouble more often than not—he'd never laid a hand on her.

  He wouldn’t now.

  But she could sense that he wanted her to think so. It was Chris’ way, how he kept himself at a distance.

  She was looking at the shadows of him that Reuben had spoken about, the ones that might always remain with all her brothers.

  “I have money, Alex,” he told her. “He took the dowry, and you’ll not say a word against it.”

  She pressed her lips together and knew that was that. She wouldn’t push him anymore. She knew to stop. So instead, she asked, “Would you give me away?”

  His expression softened and a second later, it softened even more. He nodded.

  She smiled. “Excellent, because you know there’s no one in the world I’d rather do so.”

  His mouth twitched, and he looked away.

  She saw it though. It was in his eyes. The smile that never touched his lips. Not anymore. Not in a very long time. Even Chris proved to have his own secrets. Perhaps it was the way of men to keep them.

  “Do you like him?” she asked.

  His gaze returned to her, and she was surprised when he reached up and touched the lock of black hair she’d left to hang by her ear. “I do like him, but if he proves not to be what I think he is,
then you’ll make a very beautiful and very wealthy widow.”

  He kissed her forehead and was leaving just when Alex understood what his words were implying.

  “Rose!” he called as he walked out the door.

  A second later, her sister’s light footsteps rang as she followed. She waved before slipping out the door.

  Emma returned to the room and stopped, her face full of concern. “Why are you crying?”

  Alex sniffed and smiled, unable to translate what she felt into words. Love, happiness, and a small amount of pain. She’d lived with Chris for years. Her heart was torn at the thought of leaving him. Rose would have to take her place to ensure that a part of Chris always remained human… more or less.

  At that moment, she prayed Chris would find something more, someone who would love him just as much as she loved Justin and more, if that were even possible. After the life he’d lived, he deserved it.

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  27

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SEVEN

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  He’d missed dinner.

  Justin’s carriage rounded the street that would bring him home. He leaned close to the window in wary anticipation. How one could be tired after sitting in a chair all day, Justin did not know, but he was. The speakers had gone on and on at length about some bill concerning tax increases. Having not gone to session completely sober in some time, he realized something vitally important today—h

  e did not belong at Parliament. He felt he did the Crown a great disservice taking part in votes and arguments he simply didn’t care about while the men around him fought their points with great passion and sense.