What a Wicked Earl Wants

by Vicky Dreiling

  “You were under no obligation to answer and neither am I,” he said.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You are not unaware of the conventions of polite conversation.”

  “I break rules to suit me,” he said.

  “You are a nonconformist.”

  “I conform when it suits my purposes.”

  “Even in parliament?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

  “Yes,” he said. He was only now aware of the tension in his shoulders. Now that the conversation had moved in a different direction, he felt easier. “I attend balls in order to mingle with my allies. I learn important information that I need to make political decisions.”

  She circled her finger round one of the draughts. “Surely you must negotiate sometimes?”

  “Yes, but only—”

  “When it suits your purposes,” she said, smiling.

  He grinned. “Exactly.”

  Something in her expression changed.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  She hesitated and looked at the board. “I have no idea whose turn it is.”

  Her hesitation spoke volumes. Too many people had given him the “you shouldn’t be alone” lecture. He never explained his reasons. They were his, and that was the end of it.

  She shrugged and said, “Shall we call it a draw?”

  “Very well.” He returned the dice to the cup.

  “I shall let you off the hook this time,” she said.

  Ah, she’d intimated he was welcome to call again. Of course, she wouldn’t have admitted him today if not for her son, but that was the reason he’d called.

  She looked up at the clock. “I fear my son is keeping you waiting much too long. If you must go, I will explain to Justin.”

  “No, I’ll wait. I wish to meet him.”

  She moistened her lips and rose.

  He stood.

  “I-I’ll just ring for a tea tray,” she said.

  He shook his head. “That’s not necessary.”

  She started straightening the game. When he reached to help her replace the checkerboard top, their hands brushed again. He heard her quick indrawn breath and met her gaze once more. The tension drew out. There was no use denying his attraction to her. It was an invisible force, one they were both trying to ignore. But he recalled the feel of her in his arms and the taste of her lips. Everything inside him wanted to pull her flush against him, but he’d silently sworn not to touch her again.

  There were multiple reasons he should steer clear of a woman like her, but at the moment, they flew out of his head. Damn it all to hell, she tempted him. He’d called to warn her about her son, but he ought to have ignored what he’d seen last night. Yet, it would have been dishonorable not to alert her.

  He mustn’t fool himself. There was something about her that made him want to be closer. He’d felt the sparks each time their hands had brushed. He wanted her, and the fact that he couldn’t have her—or shouldn’t want her—made matters much harder, figuratively and literally. Bell gritted his teeth. He would meet the boy and then have done with him and his mother. Bell’s very presence should make Justin nervous.

  But would it stop him?

  Bell knew he ought to leave. He’d told Laura what he’d seen. Now he must bid her adieu and forget them both. Neither she nor her son was his responsibility.

  Rapid footsteps sounded outside the door. Laura smoothed her skirts and turned.

  The drawing room door flew open. Bell recognized the lanky young man with wheat-colored hair. Justin’s flushed face and clenched fists stunned Bell.

  “Justin, may I introduce—”

  He loomed over his mother. “How dare you lock me in like a prisoner?”

  Bell didn’t shock easily, but the young man’s rude response stunned him. “How dare you shout at your mother,” he said.

  Justin turned toward him. “Get out.”

  “Calm down,” Laura said.

  Justin pointed at the door. “Get out or I’ll throw you out.”

  Bell folded his arms over his chest. “You can try, but you won’t succeed.”

  Justin strode across the carpet. When he stepped too close, Bell grabbed his arm, turned him around, and pinned the boy’s arms behind his back.

  When Justin yelped, Bell said, “I warned you.”

  Laura cried out, “You’re hurting him.”

  “No, I’m not. He’s only crying out for your benefit. Aren’t you?” he said.

  “Let me go,” Justin gritted out as he tried to pull away.

  “Apologize,” Bell said in a harsh tone.

  Justin struggled. “Never.”

  “Since you neither care for nor respect your mother, she might as well send you to your uncle.”

  “What?”

  “In fact, I can arrange to send you first thing on the morrow,” Bell said.

  “No,” Laura said. “Please stop this.”

  Lord, did she not know that he meant to scare the boy enough to get him to behave? “So what will it be, Justin? An apology or your uncle?”

  Justin was breathing hard. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Make it a proper apology.”

  “I’m sorry, Laura,” Justin muttered.

  “Speak in a sincere tone, and address your mother properly,” Bell said.

  “What?” Justin said too loud.

  “She’s your mother. Address her properly.”

  Justin was breathing heavily with obvious anger. “I apologize, Mama,” he said.

  Bell let him go. The young man whirled around with his hands fisted.

  “Stand down,” Bell said. “You know you were in the wrong.”

  Justin scowled and rubbed his arms.

  “Lesson one,” Bell said. “Never insult a lady, especially your mother. Lesson two. Never underestimate your opponent.”

  “I hate you,” Justin said.

  “You don’t know me.” Bell turned to Laura. “Lady Chesfield, I suggest we all sit and discuss this rationally.”

  Justin slouched in a chair and folded his arms over his chest.

  Bell took the other armchair and leaned his elbows on his knees. He realized that this was an opportunity for Laura to enforce her authority. “Your mother wishes to explain to you about the locked door,” Bell said. When he glanced at her, he saw approval in her eyes.

  Laura drew in her breath. “Justin, you failed in your promise to me again. I could not sit still, knowing that your uncle will take you if he hears you’re rebelling again. His friends are spying on you. So I took this measure for your own good. Reed will only open the door for you if you have obtained my permission. And even then, you must be truthful with me about your whereabouts.”

  Her son pulled a face. “I could just leave via the servant’s entrance.”

  Bell gave Laura a knowing look. “He doesn’t seem to care that he’ll have to spend the next four years with his uncle.”

  Justin shoved out of his chair. “No!”

  “Be seated,” Laura said, “or I’ll send you today.”

  When Bell started to rise, Justin winced and flounced back in the chair. Lord, he was a handful.

  “I cannot wait for the day I turn twenty-one,” Justin muttered.

  “Ah, yes, you will inherit a great estate, along with all the troublesome paperwork, repairs, tenants, and servants,” Bell said. “You will be required to make dozens of decisions every single day, and then when spring rolls around, you will spend hours listening to boring windbags drone on for hours in parliament. I bet you’re thrilled at the prospect.”

  Justin snorted. “You left out some of your more pleasurable pursuits.”

  Bell noted the satisfaction on Justin’s face and gave him a warning look. Then he took out his watch. “I’d better be on my way.”

  A knock sounded. Reed announced Lady Atherton.

  Everyone rose as the grand dame entered the room. “Oh, dear, I’ve interrupted,” she said.

  “You are very welcome,�
� Laura said.

  Bell bowed to her. “Lady Atherton.”

  She regarded him with an enigmatic smile and then turned to Justin. “It is such a pleasure to see you again, Lord Chesfield. Are you enjoying the season?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said in a wooden voice.

  At least he’d remembered his manners, Bell thought.

  “Please be seated,” Laura said. “I’ll ring for a tea tray.”

  Lady Atherton perched on the sofa beside Laura. “Do not bother, dear. I have news.” She smiled at Justin. “Although I fear Justin would find it all rather dull.”

  Bell figured Lady Atherton did not wish to discuss the news in Justin’s presence. He looked at Laura, but her attention was focused on her son. “Justin, you may be excused,” she said.

  He stood, bowed, and strode out of the drawing room.

  After the door shut, Lady Atherton exhaled. “I’m glad you’re here, Bellingham. Montclief called on me with the most astounding story. Well, of course I could not believe it. Perhaps he’d been nipping from the brandy decanter.”

  Laura moistened her lips. “What did Montclief say?”

  “He said the two of you were secretly engaged. Can you imagine that? On one day’s acquaintance, no less.” Lady Atherton shook her head. “He must have lost his wits.”

  Bell exchanged a look with Laura.

  Laura sighed. “Montclief meant to take Justin away. I tried to persuade him against it, but he refused to budge. He said that Justin needed male influence.”

  Lady Atherton touched her high purple collar. “It’s true?”

  “It was a necessary invention,” Bell said.

  “I assure you that we are not really engaged,” Laura said. “It was Bellingham’s idea to tell Montclief that we were keeping it a secret. For obvious reasons, we do not wish anyone to know about it.”

  Lady Atherton looked at Bellingham and then at Laura. “But he will expect you to marry.”

  “Montclief is only concerned about Justin’s wild behavior,” Laura said. “Once that is resolved, he won’t care. He never wanted responsibility for his nephew.”

  “I’m doubly glad I called,” Lady Atherton said. “Montclief is very suspicious of your engagement and believes that you are involved in a liaison with Bellingham.”

  “He warned us against it,” she said. “There is no need for alarm on that count.”

  Lady Atherton patted Laura’s hand and looked at Bell. “Of course, I know that you are a lady of strong moral principles. How Montclief could even assume otherwise is beyond my imagination.”

  Bell bit back a smile. Underneath Laura’s prim exterior lay a hot-blooded woman.

  “There is more,” Lady Atherton said. Then she told them about his feigned concerns about Laura’s conduct. “He arrived in a hired hack and claimed he was unable to remain in London because of the expense.”

  “But my husband left him property and a tidy fortune,” Laura said.

  “Does he release your son’s allowance in a timely manner?” Bellingham asked.

  “Yes, he’s always been prompt,” she said.

  “His financial problems may be recent,” Bellingham said.

  “Montclief may despise me, but I know he doesn’t want Justin,” Laura said. “If he’d really wanted him, he would have waited for Justin to come home that day he called.”

  The fine hairs on the back of Bell’s neck stiffened. He would say nothing to Laura, but privately he wondered if he’d underestimated Montclief. Bell resolved to make quiet inquiries about the man. He would hire someone to visit the village near Montclief’s property and see what he could dig up.

  Bell looked at Laura. “Out of curiosity, where does Montclief live?”

  “Sussex,” Laura said, “near the village of Goatham Green. Why do you ask?”

  “I just wanted to know how far away he lives from Hampshire.”

  “He never comes to Hollwood Abbey anymore,” Laura said.

  Long ago, Bell had learned to trust his gut feelings. He would rather err on the side of caution than discover he’d waited too late. But once again, he was getting more involved in her life. He told himself it was only an investigation, one that he would use to reassure her—and himself. The clock struck the hour, reminding him of an appointment. “I must leave,” he said.

  As the two women rose, Bell found himself gazing into Laura’s eyes. Belatedly, he realized that Lady Atherton was observing the exchange. He bowed and quit the drawing room. As he strode down the stairs, he vowed that this would be the last time he called on her.

  After Bellingham left, Laura sighed. “I am glad for his assistance with Justin, but Bellingham is very high-handed.”

  Lady Atherton smiled. “He is accustomed to ruling over everyone and everything in his sphere. It is second nature to a man like him.”

  “Phillip was never so willfully authoritative,” Laura said.

  “Your late husband was a different sort of man, but Phillip acted swiftly when he encountered injustice or cruelty.” Lady Atherton paused and said, “Speaking of the earl, you do realize that you’re both in a precarious situation.”

  “You are such a dear, but you must not be concerned. As much as I dislike the way Bellingham takes over, I admit he managed to curb Justin’s outrageous impulses today. You will shudder when I tell you that Bellingham actually held Justin’s arms behind his back to control him.”

  “Oh, my.” Lady Atherton unfurled her fan. “Alfred told me Bellingham takes after his ruthless forebears.”

  Laura thought that an exaggeration but said nothing.

  “It’s unfortunate that he lost all of his family when he was so young. He used to be carefree and sunny-natured.”

  Chill bumps erupted on Laura’s arms. “You told me they died. What happened?”

  “They succumbed to consumption. He’d been away at university and rushed home only to find they had already passed.”

  “How awful,” Laura said.

  “I heard he was in a very bad way, completely distraught. His friends took him away to the Continent.” She released a long sigh. “When he returned two years ago, it was clear to everyone that he had completely changed.” Lady Atherton put her fist to her heart. “I think he is damaged inside. Many think it is irrevocable.”

  Laura shook her head. “No, you must not say that.”

  “My dear, you were shocked when I told you he refuses to marry, even though all of his property will go to the Crown upon his death.”

  “It’s foolish,” she said. “Surely he believes his father would wish him to carry on the earldom.”

  “I do not know the answer,” Lady Atherton said. “No one has ever broken through his defenses.”

  Laura thought him entirely too bold and imposing, but without Bell’s help, Montclief would have taken Justin away from her.

  “His willingness to guide Justin is a hopeful sign,” Lady Atherton said. “It was very gallant of him.”

  Laura recalled the way he’d looked at her and the supposedly accidental touches today. Bellingham’s motives were not as pure as Lady Atherton believed.

  “He clearly doesn’t believe he needs anyone,” Lady Atherton said, “but perhaps the right woman will open his heart.”

  Laura said nothing, but she didn’t think his intentions involved hearts and declarations of love. He was the sort of man who kept a mistress. The sort of man a woman like her should avoid.

  Bell sat at his desk reviewing a letter from his banker. At the sound of a knock, he folded the letter and said, “Enter.”

  Griffith, his butler, stepped inside. “My lord, a man named Smyth has called.” He produced the card.

  “Please show him in,” Bell said, rising.

  Smyth entered and bowed. “My lord, I understand you are in need of my investigative services.”

  “I am. Please be seated.”

  Smyth sat on the edge of his seat. “My lord, how may I assist you?”

  “I wish to conduct an inve
stigation into a man by the name of Montclief. He is the guardian of a minor who will formally take control of the title of Viscount Chesfield in four years. For obvious reasons, I wish to conceal the investigation. I wish to gain insight into Montclief’s financial situation, the state of his property at Goatham Green, and to learn how he is perceived among the general populace. I need information about his friends and any other pertinent facts. Are you able to take on this investigation?”

  “Yes, my lord. I have conducted similar investigations numerous times and will provide both a verbal and written report upon conclusion of my findings.”

  Bell unlocked a desk drawer and produced a hefty purse. “This is for your expenses. Upon satisfactory conclusion, you will receive four hundred pounds. I might add that you should spare no detail in your report, however mundane it might at first appear. Send me preliminary reports as they become available. Do you have any questions?”

  “No, my lord. Your instructions are clear.”

  After Smyth left, Bell locked the desk drawer. He wanted to be prepared in the event Montclief became a threat to Laura and her son. Long ago, Bell had learned to trust his instincts, and the information he’d gleaned from Lady Atherton had made him doubly suspicious. The investigation might yield nothing of significance, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.

  Chapter Four

  The next evening

  Bell met Colin and Harry at White’s and ordered a bottle of brandy for the table. After Bell opened a gold case, he offered his friends a cheroot. They sat smoking in silence for a while. Bell’s thoughts turned to a fantasy of Laura in a bath. His blood heated as he imagined parting her thighs and exploring between the plump folds of her sex. He would make her come and then he’d lift her out and apply a towel while he licked water droplets off strategic areas of her slim body. That would require getting her naked and in a bath.

  The devil, what was he thinking? She was a proper widow and a vicar’s daughter, not his type at all. His type of woman was improper. She was willing to do anything as long as he showered her with jewels and ball gowns. She was skilled in the sensual arts and completely predictable. Just like his last mistress, Marguerite—boring.