Good Earls Don't Lie

by Michelle Willingham

  There was a heaviness in Niall’s voice, and he added, “I watched my daughter die of hunger, and I couldn’t save her. I would do anything to save the rest of my children. Anything at all.”

  Perhaps that was true. But Iain no longer trusted the man. A desperate father might also resort to theft or murder if he had no one to help him.

  Before he could refuse, Niall inquired, “Will you be traveling to London as you’d planned, my lord?”

  He already knew what the man wanted, but he nodded. “We are traveling there in a week. Lady Rose and her family have agreed to help me find an heiress to wed.”

  Niall’s expression turned thoughtful. “Then you’ll be needing a valet or a manservant to travel with you.”

  Iain didn’t like the man’s assumption that he would take him back. “I think you should be on your way and find another employer.”

  But his former footman made no move to leave. “I’ve nowhere to go, my lord.”

  “You should have thought of that before you left me.” He kept his words cool, though he hadn’t missed the drawn look of hunger in the man’s eyes. “I’ve no need of your help now.”

  Niall’s gaze lowered. “I can’t undo the mistakes I’ve made. But there is another way I can atone for it.” Iain waited, and the man continued. “There are stories about your mother,” he said. “Stories that you should know before you go to London.”

  No. He refused to listen to more lies. Iain seized the man by his filthy shirt and shoved him back against the hedges. “Leave her out of this.”

  Niall’s expression held pity. “I know you’ve always wondered why she hated you. Why she never trained you to be the earl, only your brother.” He placed his hat back upon his head and bowed. “If you’re wanting to know the truth, I can tell you the reason.”

  Iain had no doubt that the man was lying. He’d already admitted that he would do anything for his family, and undoubtedly that included falsehoods. “Whatever it is you’re wanting, Niall, you’ll not get it from me. Go,” he ordered. “Our conversation is finished.”

  The man studied him and kept his voice low. “That may be. But what do you suppose will happen when they find out that you are not the heir to Ashton? That your blood is no different from mine. And the only reason you had a place to live was due to your brother’s mercy.”

  Lies, his brain warned him. And yet, his blood had turned to ice. He couldn’t let go of the feeling that there was something wrong. Michael had named him the heir, and all the tenants had accepted him—at least, the ones who had stayed behind.

  “Why do you think Lady Ashton never treated you like her beloved son?” His footman spoke in a whisper laced with bitterness. “I think you know the truth. You always have.”

  His instinct was to release his temper, blackening the man’s eyes and beating him until he stopped spreading lies. But the coldness within him was rooted in doubt. He had wondered if he was illegitimate, possibly one of his father’s by-blows. It was the only logical explanation for his mother’s hatred of him. But Michael had been vehement that he was Moira’s son, despite her behavior.

  He didn’t know what to believe.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, Lord Ashton,” Niall asserted. “And you ought to be knowing the truth before you present yourself as the earl.”

  Iain straightened and met the man’s gaze evenly. “There is no game. I am the heir to Ashton, and the earl. Your falsehoods will not change that.”

  “They are not lies,” his footman said. “But grant me a position with fair wages, and I will tell you everything I know.”

  “You’ve gone and pickled your brains,” Iain remarked. “I have nothing to gain by hiring you.”

  “But you have everything to lose.” Niall’s eyes glittered as he stared at him. “Don’t you want to know what happened to Lady Ashton?”

  He could ignore the man, but the offer did tempt him. It was possible that Niall had only lies to spread . . . but what if there was truth to his words?

  The man let out a heavy sigh. “I will return in the morning for your answer, my lord.”

  He wanted to tell Niall not to bother. And yet, he knew desperation when he saw it. He’d chosen the footman to come to England because the man had a family to support, and Niall had needed the income.

  But now, after he watched the man leave, he could only wonder what sort of threat his former servant posed.

  During the next week, Rose noticed that Iain seemed more on edge. He had a new valet, Niall, who was deferential and polite. But instead of being thankful for his servant’s return, Lord Ashton seemed wary.

  Ever since she’d taken her first steps, they had visited the garden each day. Rose continued to have Calvert carry her outside, in order to maintain the illusion of being unable to walk.

  But today, before Lord Ashton arrived, her sister approached the stone bench. Unhappiness lined her face, and Lily sat down beside her. “Rose, you cannot keep on meeting him in secret. The servants are already talking.”

  “I’ve done nothing wrong,” she protested.

  “I believe you. But it doesn’t look right.” Her sister glanced back at the house and asked, “Is he courting you?”

  “Not exactly.” Perhaps it was her own vanity, but she hadn’t yet told anyone in her family of her accomplishment. No, she wanted to keep it a secret, for as long as possible—at least, until she stood up in London and danced in front of everyone. It was a welcome daydream. She imagined how her family would exclaim their surprise and be overjoyed by the miracle.

  “Then why do you spend an hour with him in the garden each day? It’s scandalous.” Lily appeared worried, her mouth twisted in a frown.

  Rose answered her with a soft smile. “You needn’t worry. I am only teaching him about London society.”

  “In a garden with no chaperone?” Her sister lifted an eyebrow at that. “When you could easily do the same thing in the drawing room?”

  Her lips tightened, and Rose added, “He is helping me practice standing each day.”

  “Which, again, you could do in the drawing room.”

  She studied her sister and saw traces of redness in Lily’s eyes. No longer did it seem that she’d come here to lecture her about propriety. “There’s something else wrong, isn’t there? Is it Mother? Has she been giving away money again?”

  “I don’t think so. But I received a letter from one of Matthew’s friends. He was taken captive by the Sikhs.” Lily’s eyes filled up with tears, and she clenched her hands together. “I don’t know what to do, Rose. He’s over there alone, and no one can say if he’ll come back alive.”

  All she could do was reach out and embrace her sister. “We will pray for him. And in the meantime, you can write more letters. Perhaps when he is freed, he will know that you were thinking of him.”

  “I feel so helpless,” Lily whispered. When she drew back, she closed her eyes, trying to gather her strength.

  “Was there any word of James?” Her fear deepened when she realized that both of them could be captives.

  “He’s alive, so far as they know,” Lily answered. “But he went after Matthew to try and bring him home.”

  She gripped her sister’s hand. “Then we have to believe that he will. That both of them will come home soon.”

  A single tear dripped down Lily’s face. “In the meantime, Mother and Grandmother are forcing me to try on gowns and talking about all the gentlemen I’ll meet in London. I don’t want to meet anyone. I’m not going to marry any man. This is an utter waste of time.”

  “If you want, I will try to distract them,” Rose offered. Although her grandmother was spending most of her time on Lily, it might be that she could redirect their attention to her, if needed. No longer did she feel quite so averse to returning to London. Now that she had taken her first steps, there was hope for her future.

  The sound of footsteps crunching on gravel caught her attention. Lord Ashton was approaching them from the house, and Rose
wished she could warn him away. But her sister’s gaze narrowed upon the earl until he stood before them.

  “Good morn to you both,” he greeted them. “Lady Lily, this is a pleasant surprise.”

  Her sister sent him a false smile and nodded. “You’ve been spending a great deal of time with my sister, Lord Ashton. I hope you realize that the servants are gossiping.”

  He sent Rose a conspiratorial look. “Are they? I suppose they think I am intent upon debauchery and ruining your sister.”

  “Indeed.” Lily planted her hands upon her hips and waited for him to offer an excuse.

  “I told her that I was teaching you about London,” Rose interjected. “She can’t seem to understand why I wouldn’t do so in a drawing room with chaperones present.”

  He turned to Lily and met her gaze evenly. “Your sister is lying.”

  “I am not.”

  “Yes, you are. You know full well that not only am I forcing you to kiss me, but we are committing fornication in broad daylight. Which would not be proper in the drawing room.” He lifted his own eyebrow and shot Lily a dark smile.

  At that, Rose stood up and glared at him. Her knees were shaking, but she would not stand back and listen to this. Already her face was crimson at his insinuation. “Lily, don’t you dare believe his lies!”

  “Why? It’s only now becoming interesting.” But the faint smile on Lily’s mouth revealed that she didn’t believe him at all.

  “You are a wretch, when we’ve done no such thing.”

  He only winked, and puckered his lips. She couldn’t believe his audacity. “If I had a rake right now, I would beat you senseless with it.”

  “It’s a good thing you don’t.” He smiled again at Lily and said, “The truth is, I am teaching your sister to walk.”

  His confession deflated her spirits. Why would he tell her sister that when she wanted it to remain a secret? How could he ruin her surprise?

  “She’s made very little progress and has fallen several times,” he continued. “She did not want to alarm any of you. Especially the servants, who would accuse me of trying to harm her.”

  Some of her anger dissipated, for he’d not mentioned her steps at all.

  “Rose, no.” Lily urged her to sit back on the bench. “You’re going to hurt yourself. You’ve stood, and that in itself is a tremendous accomplishment. But walking?”

  “We have made an agreement,” Rose said. “Lord Ashton has promised to catch me before I fall on my face. And I, in return, am teaching him about the complexity of forks.”

  Lord Ashton joined in, nodding in agreement. “They are quite impossible. Why anyone would need three forks at any meal is wasteful, indeed. It’s grateful I am that your sister is helping me to navigate cutlery.”

  Lily glanced at Rose and then back at Lord Ashton. “Well. That’s not quite what I was expecting.”

  “And you understand why she does not want anyone to know about her lack of progress in walking,” he said gently. “Allow her to keep her pride. There’s no harm in trying. When I catch her, that is.”

  “Which you have done often,” Rose agreed. She lifted up her arms. “Now, if you would bring me into my father’s walled garden, I wish to attempt it again.”

  Lord Ashton lifted her into his arms easily. “I am at your service, my lady.”

  As he carried her toward the garden, Rose glimpsed Lily’s thoughtful expression before she folded up the letter she was carrying. Her fingers touched the necklace around her throat before she lifted her hand in a wave and walked back to the house.

  After she had gone, Lord Ashton asked, “Was that an acceptable lie?”

  “I thought you were going to tell her everything,” she admitted.

  “I know what this means to you. And it was only a white lie. I’ve caught you every time.”

  “So you have.” Her earlier bad mood was gone as she anticipated taking a few more steps today.

  He studied her face and remarked, “It’s good to see you smile, Lady Rose.”

  “I was imagining the look on my grandmother’s face when she sees me walk again.”

  Iain set her down upon the stone bench by the willow tree, and his hands lingered a moment. Rose removed her shoes, standing in her bare feet upon the grass. Although she could take a step or two in shoes, it was still easier walking barefoot. “Will you hold my hands while I practice walking, Lord Ashton?”

  “Iain,” he corrected as he walked toward her. He held out his hands, and she took them, balancing herself before she took one step.

  “Thank you, Lord Ashton.” No matter how he’d insisted, she refused to call him by his name. There was already too much intimacy between them with their friendship. And although she had allowed herself to succumb to the temptation of his kiss, she could not allow it to happen again.

  Carefully, she set one foot in front of the other, holding on to his hands for balance. He led her across the garden slowly, to ensure she didn’t fall. Once, she stumbled but caught herself again.

  “Are you looking forward to your travels to London?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “And now that you have new clothing, I am certain you are, as well.”

  Over the past week, the tailor had measured and fitted him for evening wear, clothing for paying calls, and everything a gentleman needed to win the heart of a lady. To any unwed maiden, he would be a dashing figure, an Irish lord worth pursuing.

  She wondered how many of the families knew of his past. Surely there were those who had met his father and were aware of how he’d died. Would the scandal follow him there?

  “I can’t be saying that I’m looking forward to London,” he admitted. An enigmatic expression crossed his face. “I am hardly a gentleman whom the ton would want to present to their daughters.”

  She shrugged off his worries. “Don’t be foolish. My grandmother and Lady Castledon will vouch for you.” In fact, it was more likely that the ladies would be intrigued by the earl they had never met. “I am certain many women will throw themselves at your feet.”

  “I doubt that will happen.” He sent her a crooked smile. “I cannot say that a penniless earl is attractive at all.”

  She was about to tease him but realized that he was in earnest. His expression held an uneasiness. And it seemed more than apprehension about a city he’d never visited. It was as if he truly did not believe women would want him for himself, as if he had no value.

  Rose considered what to say. If she complimented his looks, he wouldn’t believe her at all. Instead, she told him, “A man of kindness holds a great deal of value to a woman. Sometimes that means more than all the money in the world.”

  “Some would not call me kind.”

  She met his gaze with sincerity. “What you have done for me goes beyond kindness. I won’t forget it, Lord Ashton.”

  He offered his arm and kept the pace slow. Though each day had brought improvement, she had to lean heavily against him as she took a single step.

  “You need to be careful at these gatherings,” he warned. “Do not try to do too much, too soon; else, you run the risk of falling.” He sent her a sidelong look. “I will attend the same gatherings, and if you have need of me, I can lend my support.”

  “I should be most grateful for your assistance. Especially if you keep me from falling on my face.” The idea of walking again brought a sense of joy, mingled with fear of embarrassing herself.

  Ashton released her hands and took a few steps back. “Can you walk toward me alone?”

  “I will try.” She took a moment to steady herself and then took the first step. Although she walked with a heavy limp, nothing could suppress her smile. It took several slow steps, but eventually, she reached his side. “I fear I’m not very graceful. Rather like a wounded animal dragging herself across the ground.”

  “That will improve over time.”

  She wanted to believe it, but it might take months. “I had better not risk dancing. I would fall without question.”<
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  “You could likely manage to dance, if you wanted to. If you dance with me, I will never let you fall.”

  She believed him. When she met his gaze, she saw the quiet reassurance, and it softened a piece of her heart. Men would undoubtedly ask her to dance, for it was expected of her.

  And yet, she doubted if the risk was worth it.

  “Just try,” he urged. “Something slow. What if Burkham invites you to waltz?”

  He was right. If Thomas was there, he would indeed offer a dance. She didn’t want to refuse her chance to show him what she’d accomplished. Inwardly, she knew how unlikely it was that she would succeed. But here, in this garden, there was no risk at all.

  “All right,” she agreed. “We’ll try it.”

  Ashton took her hand, resting his other palm against her waist. He moved in a slow tempo, giving her time to pick up each foot in the dance step. But every time he attempted to turn her, her feet seemed to tangle together.

  “I’m so clumsy,” she apologized. “My feet won’t move the way I want them to.” She lacked the physical ability to keep the rhythm, and it heightened her frustration. “I don’t even know what I was thinking. No one waltzes this slowly.”

  He didn’t deny it, but his hand pressed lightly at her waist, turning her once more. “You knew it wouldn’t be easy.”

  “You’re right. And besides that, I only took my first steps a week ago. It could take months before I’m nimble enough to dance.”

  In answer to that, the earl lifted her up and held her body aloft while he spun her in the waltz step. The sudden motion caught her unawares, and she began to laugh. “You cannot lift me up in a ballroom, Lord Ashton. Please put me down.” Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, though the Irishman didn’t seem to care. He stopped spinning her, but held her up a moment longer.

  “Iain,” he corrected. But he did not set her down just yet. He kept his arms beneath her hips, and Rose was caught up in his green eyes. He stared at her with unveiled interest, and his dark hair framed a chiseled face. She could half-imagine him carrying her across the garden and laying her down against the grass before he kissed her again.