The Earl's Complete Surrender

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The Earl's Complete Surrender Page 13

by Sophie Barnes


  “I’m sure it did,” Woodford told him dryly.

  Scarsdale’s eyes shot back toward Woodford’s face. “What are you implying?”

  “I think you know,” Woodford said. “You’ve been here before.”

  “The hell I have,” Scarsdale muttered. He tried to look behind Woodford again. “Who’s that with you?”

  “Nobody,” Woodford said. “As far as you’re concerned, I’m alone.”

  Bringing his lantern higher, Scarsdale moved in an attempt to circumvent Woodford, but Woodford blocked him with his arm, though not before the light fell on Chloe’s face. “Is this how you repay my kindness?” Scarsdale asked, his words falling like shards of glass as he looked toward Chloe, “By engaging in an affair with Woodford? The man’s a scoundrel, Lady Newbury!”

  “Take care, Scarsdale, or you and I will face each other again,” Woodford said, “and this time I won’t be so lenient with you.”

  Scarsdale drew back. “I’m not done with you, Woodford.” His eyes fell on Chloe once more. “Not by a long shot.”

  “You’ll stay away from her if you know what’s good for you,” Woodford said.

  “Is that a threat?” Scarsdale asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  They stared back at each other for a long moment like two roosters ready to fight for the hen. Chloe crept back a little, just in case it came to blows, but then Scarsdale turned on his heel and strode away, disappearing into the darkness.

  “Are you all right?” Woodford asked as soon as Scarsdale was gone.

  “Aside from feeling like a piece of rope in a tug of war? Yes.”

  “Forgive me if I overstepped. I wasn’t trying to lay claim to you—­I just wanted to discourage him from doing so.”

  “Of course.” His words were somehow of little comfort and it confounded her to discover that she would have liked him to show a deeper interest in her, especially after the kisses they’d shared. She could not expect him to do so however. He’d made it clear that he could not offer love or marriage. Reflecting upon her own emotions, she was troubled to find that her heart might not be as immune toward him as his was toward her.

  “Scarsdale is one of them,” Woodford told Hains­worth later that evening. “I’m certain of it.” Leaning over the billiards table, he aimed for one of the balls and took his shot, sending it straight into the opposite pocket. After seeing Lady Newbury back out into the hallway, he’d abandoned his search for the attic entrance in favor of sharing his thoughts about Scarsdale with the only man whom he knew he could trust.

  “You’re probably right, considering your run-­in with him a few days ago.”

  “Precisely, but as suspicious as that was, given that I’d just been chasing a man through the secret passageway only to happen upon Scarsdale the moment I exited it, I couldn’t actually prove that he’d been in there. That is no longer the case, especially when I also take into account the fact that he was a close friend of Newbury’s.” The mention of Newbury’s connection to The Electors had shocked Hainsworth just as much as it had James.

  “What will you do?” Hainsworth asked while Woodford took another shot.

  A red ball flew into a pocket at the far end of the table. “To take him out would be pre-­emptive. I need something more . . . something concrete with which to prove his involvement with The Electors.” He straightened, looking to Hainsworth for advice. The marquess had been like a father to him for the greater part of his life and James had learned to value his opinion.

  “Then I suggest you find the journal before he does,” Hainsworth said, tossing back his brandy and setting his empty glass aside. “Allowing it to fall into the wrong hands would be detrimental.”

  Chapter 11

  Two days later, James found himself standing in front of an arched window in the Thorncliff ballroom, still puzzled by the lack of access to the attic.

  “Woodford,” Spencer said, greeting him as he approached. “I don’t believe that I have ever had the pleasure of attending a ball where you were present.”

  “That’s because I generally make an effort to stay away.”

  “Ah, so you don’t enjoy dancing?”

  James allowed the corner of his mouth to slide sideways. “You know that I don’t.”

  “A pity, since the ladies are always in need of a willing and capable partner. The former is apparently a great deal harder for them to come by than the latter, or so my sisters have told me on many occasions.”

  “You don’t say,” James muttered as his gaze swept over the crowd. Silk gowns embellished with crystal beads shimmered and sparkled beneath the warm glow of the chandeliers. Jewel-­encrusted rings, necklaces and earrings, captured and released the light in dazzling flares of color while feather trimmed fans and hair ornaments tickled the air.

  Spencer said nothing for a while, until suddenly, “I plan to dance with Lady Sarah myself, and then probably with each of my sisters in turn. Chadwick is always a good sport as well—­has known my family since we were children and likes to stay on my parents’ good side.” He took a sip of the champagne he’d brought with him. “I don’t suppose I might convince you to make an exception about dancing? After all, I do have five sisters, Lady Sarah and Mama. Even with Chadwick, I must admit that I’d appreciate the help.”

  James felt his back stiffen. “I don’t believe I’d be doing any of them a favor by asking them to partner with me, Spencer. As it happens, dancing is one area in which I am not that accomplished.”

  “Well, that is unfortunate,” Spencer said after a moment of silence. “I’m not too concerned about my youngest sisters, you see. They never seem to have much difficulty staying on the dance floor as much as they wish, but Lady Newbury . . . this will be her first ball since her husband’s passing, so I would like to ensure that the evening exceeds her expectations. But if you’re against it, then—­”

  “I’ll consider it,” James said.

  “I think it will please her greatly if you do.”

  James slanted a look in Spencer’s direction. “In case you’re hoping to match-­make, I should warn you that I have no intention of marrying in the foreseeable future.”

  “Neither did I,” Spencer said, a smug smile tugging at his lips, “but that was before I came to Thorncliff. Oh look, here she comes now.”

  Turning, James’s eyes settled on the lady who drifted down the stairs at the opposite side of the room, her auburn hair piled upon her head in an intricate coiffure. Her figure was delicate, her skin a pale cream that stood in perfect contrast to the emerald green gown encasing her. A vision of regal elegance, Lady Newbury looked exquisite, and for the first time in twenty years, James actually allowed a genuine smile. It felt a bit strange at first—­that pull at the edge of his mouth, but as he gave himself up to it, it also felt incredibly liberating.

  “Good Lord,” Spencer murmured at James’s side, “I don’t think I can recall ever seeing you look happy. It suits you, Woodford.”

  James didn’t answer, his chest expanding as Lady Newbury made her approach with a smile of her own gracing her lovely lips.

  “Good evening,” Spencer said as she came to a halt before them and made a slight curtsey. Reaching for her hand, Spencer raised it to his lips and kissed her gloved knuckles.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” she said. She looked at James, her green eyes warm as they would be upon seeing a close friend, and it was all he could do to remember how to breathe.

  Steadying himself, he took her hand in his, bowed over it and kissed her knuckles just as flawlessly as her brother had done. When he straightened himself, he held her gaze, his chest rising and falling against his rapid heartbeats. “You look exceedingly lovely this evening,” he told her.

  “Thank you, Lord Woodford,” she said. Breaking eye contact, she allowed a moment’s perusal of him before returning her eyes to his face. �
��As do you.”

  Three softly spoken words that instantly heated his insides.

  “Will you partner with me for one of the country dances a bit later?” Spencer asked.

  “Of course,” Lady Newbury said, both looking and sounding delighted. “I’d be happy to.” She offered Spencer her dance card and he quickly scribbled his name.

  Returning the items to his sister, he gave James a meaningful look before saying, “I see that the rest of our sisters are just now arriving. If you’ll please excuse me, I would like to secure a dance with each of them as well.”

  “I fear I’m not very good at dancing,” James said as soon as Spencer was out of earshot, “but I’d be honored if you would dance this evening’s waltz with me.” It was the only dance he’d ever really learned, which was fine, since it was the only one that he had any interest in dancing with Lady Newbury.

  “You are very kind to offer,” Lady Newbury said. “Perhaps you’d care to make it official by writing your name on my dance card as well?”

  “Certainly,” James said. Accepting the card, he hastily wrote his name with the attached pencil.

  He’d barely managed to complete the task before Hainsworth arrived with a lady on his arm whom James did not recognize. “Lady Newbury,” Hainsworth said, “you look very fetching in that creation!”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Her curious expression suggested that she did not know the lady either.

  “May I present Mrs. Green?” Hainsworth asked. “Her husband was the American banker and financier, Mr. Julius Permont Green.”

  “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” James said, adding a bow.

  “How fascinating. I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone from America before,” Lady Newbury said. “May I ask which part of the country you’re from?”

  “My husband and I had a wonderful house in Connecticut, not far from New York, but I am not actually from there myself,” Mrs. Green said, her eyes shifting to James with distinct interest. Returning her gaze to Lady Newbury she said, “I’m actually from Yorkshire.”

  Lady Newbury’s eyes widened. “I would never have guessed.”

  Mrs. Green smiled. “I was an actress when my husband proposed and swept me away across the Atlantic. Changing my accent wasn’t difficult. In fact, I believe it came quite naturally.” She looked at James again.

  He frowned, not liking the obvious attention that she was giving him in front of Lady Newbury. “So you’re an actress?” Most of those present would not approve if they knew.

  “Not anymore.” A twinkle of mischief lit her eyes. “I’m now a widow worth over five hundred thousand pounds.”

  “Really?” It didn’t matter that she wore a silk gown or that one of the largest diamonds he’d ever seen, was dangling from her neck. Her commonness was evident in the fact that she either did not know or did not care that to speak of ones finances publically was considered extremely vulgar.

  Releasing Hainsworth’s arm, she moved closer to James who unfortunately had nowhere to escape to with the window directly behind him and a pillar to his left. “And yet I still haven’t managed to secure a partner for the waltz. I don’t suppose you’d care to oblige, my lord?”

  James looked to Hainsworth, who appeared to have no intention of coming to his rescue. On the contrary, he looked rather amused. Curse the man. “Unfortunately I have already asked Lady Newbury.” Mrs. Green’s expression cooled and a pregnant silence filled with expectancy followed until James felt he had no choice but to say, “Perhaps you would care to partner with me for a country dance instead?”

  Mrs. Green agreed, albeit with a bit of a pout, and James quickly signed his name on her dance card while Hainsworth secured a dance with Lady Newbury. Although she wasn’t looking directly at James, he couldn’t help but noticed that she seemed slightly put out.

  “Ah, there you are, Woodford!” an enthusiastic voice said. Turning, James spotted his hostess, the singular Lady Duncaster, who was hurrying toward him with two other ladies on her heels; one older and one younger. “Good evening,” she said as soon as she came to a halt before the group. She was dressed in a blue silk gown according to the latest fashion, her conflicting wig tilting slightly to the right while a massive pair of sapphire earrings dangled from her lobes. “I was just telling Lady Foxworth about you today and have offered to introduce you to her.” She gestured toward the elderly woman who stood to her right before greeting Lady Newbury, Mrs. Green and Hainsworth in turn.

  “My lord,” Lady Foxworth said, addressing James. “It is such a pleasure to make the acquaintance of a gentleman in possession of such fine attributes.”

  He offered Lady Foxworth a bow. “The pleasure is all mine,” he said, though he hadn’t a clue as to which fine attributes the lady might be referring.

  Beaming with pleasure, Lady Foxworth caught the arm of the young lady at her side and nudged her forward. “May I present my niece, Lady Mary?”

  “Delighted,” James said. He bowed again while Hainsworth followed suit. Lady Mary performed a perfect curtsey in return, although her averted gaze ­coupled with her quietly reserved movements suggested great timidity.

  “I understand that you are something of an intellectual,” Lady Foxworth said, drawing James’s attention back to the older woman.

  “Books are my passion,” James told her. “I cannot imagine passing a day without reading.”

  Lady Foxworth nodded. “I approve of your way of thinking. A man who seeks to pass his time quietly in the library is much preferred to one who seeks to gamble with his friends. Lady Mary is very fond of reading as well. She frequents the library most afternoons and prefers to spend her evenings in the company of books rather than accompany me to the theater or to social soirees. Isn’t that so?”

  Lady Mary nodded demurely.

  “Why don’t you take Lady Mary for a turn around the room, Woodford?” Lady Duncaster suggested while Lady Foxworth nodded with eager agreement, the two women completely ignorant of any disinterest on James’s part, it would seem. “I’m sure the two of you will enjoy the opportunity to discuss your passion for literature and all that it has taught you. In the meantime, I should like to have a word with Lady Newbury if you don’t mind.” She turned her attention on Hainsworth. “Perhaps you and Mrs. Green would be kind enough to escort Lady Foxworth to the refreshment table? I believe she’d like a glass of champagne.”

  “Of course,” Hainsworth said, offering both ladies an arm.

  Determined to do his duty as well, James followed suit and began leading Lady Mary on a tour of the room, impressed by how easily Lady Duncaster had managed them all to her own advantage. He glanced down at Lady Mary, noting that while her features weren’t as delicate as Lady Newbury’s, she was still quite pretty in an unsophisticated sort of way. Aware that it was his duty as a gentleman to engage her in conversation, he did as Lady Duncaster had suggested, saying, “Since it does appear as though we share a common interest, might I convince you to tell me about your favorite authors?”

  “I doubt my choice in books would appeal to you, my lord,” she told him softly.

  “Don’t be so sure. I have read a great many books on a variety of different subjects. Surely our choices in reading material must intersect at some point or another. How about Shakespeare, for instance? Have you read any of his plays?”

  She offered a hesitant smile. “I must confess that I am quite fond of his comedies.”

  “Ah! So you wish to enjoy an uplifting story, to laugh and to walk away from your book with a positive feeling.” She nodded, but said nothing further, so they continued for a moment in silence while he contemplated the next question. “Do you also enjoy non-­fictional work?” He eventually asked. “Books about other cultures or historical accounts of how ­people used to live, wars that have been waged over countries or perhaps a zoological book for a change?”

/>   She shook her head. “I’m afraid not.” Reaching the end of the room, they turned around and started back in the direction from which they had come while the orchestra began playing the opening of the first set—­a quadrille. Glancing toward Lady Newbury, James frowned when he saw that Scarsdale had approached her. Even though they were just talking, James couldn’t help but feel a sudden urge to intervene—­an uncomfortable sensation made more acute by his awareness of Scarsdale’s confirmed interest in Lady Newbury. To rush to her side, however, with Lady Mary in tow, would not be seemly.

  Moving at a measured pace instead, James made an effort to concentrate on what Lady Mary was saying—­a task that grew increasingly difficult when Lady Newbury accepted Scarsdale’s arm and allowed him to lead her toward the dance floor. James winced, while Lady Mary said, “Before departing on his travels, Papa gifted me with a book about Captain Cook’s voyage to the Pacific, no doubt because he thought I’d enjoy reading about life at sea in order to better envision Papa’s daily routine aboard a seagoing vessel.”

  “And?” James asked, curious to hear her opinion and thankful for the distraction that the subject provided.

  Lady Mary scrunched her nose. “I must confess that I eventually had to give up on it.”

  James couldn’t help but stare at her in surprise. “Why?” Something must have happened. Perhaps her copy had somehow gone missing. How unfortunate that would be.

  As it turned out, this was not the case. “I found the style quite tedious.”

  Tedious?

  James blinked. His mind had gone completely blank, save for one word that filled it to overflowing. Tedious. He could think of absolutely nothing else to say to Lady Mary following such a damning revelation other than, “I see.”

  And that was pretty much that. He danced the next set with her because it was the polite thing to do, but he wasted no more effort on conversation. Instead, he searched the ballroom for the only lady who held his interest. It didn’t take long for him to locate her. Standing slightly apart from the crowd, the bright green color of her gown, accompanied by the complimenting tones of her fiery hair, acted like a beacon.

 

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