Louise found her voice and replied clearly, able to keep the misgivings out of her voice. "I am twenty, my Lord."
The Earl raised his eyebrows in a comical gesture, then tottered over to a horse-hair stuffed divan wrapped in emerald green velvet. Then patted the seat next to him, beckoning Louise to come and sit next to him. She moved, her spine lengthened, across the room toward the foul-breathed aristocrat. The young women and black haired man joined them, seating themselves in the scatter of high back chairs in front of the divan.
"Well, Ms. Burbanks, welcome to my home. It is my feigned pleasure to introduce you to my ungrateful children. Standing there like king of the world is my scoundrel of a son, William Crewe. Those trollops glaring at you so hatefully, oh, yes, they hate you without even knowing you. They are my twin daughters, Camille and Denise. They are nearly eighteen and thankfully both are soon to be married."
He then turned to his children, "And this, family, is Ms. Louise Burbanks. Baroness Burbanks to be correct. And, this my dear, sweet offspring, is to be my new wife."
Louise watched the faces of the young people in the room and saw the shock flash across the young man's face while bitter hatred crawled across the two girl's features. She did not understand the enmity in the room, but determined to push it to the back of her mind. As the others turned their attention away from her, the Earl leaned in and began to speak to her of his tea trade.
Several hours later, exhausted from trying to remain attentive to her fiancée, the butler entered the room and announced that dinner had been served.
That first dinner would forever stand out in Louise's mind as one of the worst evenings of her life. She had been led to the grand dining hall on the arm of the Earl himself. He had swayed and hobbled as he walked, nearly falling into Louise twice, and finally had to be steadied by William from the other side. As William took his father's other arm, he brazenly winked at Louise as his gaze dropped to her décolleté; bare as followed the custom of the latest fashions. Louise looked away quickly; intent not to give the young man any attention.
They all sat at one end of the vast dining table, Louise on one side of the Earl, William on the other, and Camille and Denise next to William. The siblings all stared at Louise with different looks that made her completely aware that she was more than a little unwelcome. Almost immediately, the Earl started haranguing William about the rumors of his conquests of the countryside.
"Dammit all, man. If you are going to whore around, at least do so with the young woman who can bring something to the table! Bedding every milk maid and serving wench between here and Stonewall will only leave you with a lot of mouths to feed once you inherit, but no decent heirs of your own. Use your head, man! Not your loins!"
William sat back in his chair and squarely looked his father up and down. "Who said I wasn't wooing and winning over all the most eligible young maidens as well?"
At the implication, the Earl grew red in the faced and his jowls started to tremble and quake as he realized his son truly was a rake. He had no words for his son's admission so he changed tactics.
"I will not have you spending the fortune I worked so hard to collect at the gambling tables! What did you gamble away last night? Three pounds?"
"Four, father."
"Four!!!" The Earl began to shake and cough so hard the entire table shook as well. He lifted a goblet of wine and drank some but was so caught up in his rage at his son, that some of it spilled down the corners of his mouth and dripped onto his doublet.
William ignored his father's glare and leaned toward Louise who was trying her best not to feel caught up in the drama of this family of strangers.
"Baroness, please tell us, how is it you are at the mercy of a man like my father. Surely you have had your fair share of younger, more handsome suitors to chose from?"
His blue eyes bored into Louise's green ones. In the dancing candlelight, she saw actual curiosity, but she also saw intent, as though he were trying to determine how easy a prey she would be for him. She squared her shoulders, and sat up taller, meeting his gaze with cool disdain.
"I am sure, Master Crewe, that my prospects are of no import to your personal affairs."
The Earl slammed his hands on the table and harrumphed in satisfaction. He then turned his attention away from William who was smiling wickedly at Louise. The remainder of the meal Louise was forced to lean back in her chair in order to avoid the liquored breath of the Earl. She flinched every time he touched her with his sweaty hand. She tried her best to smile genuinely at his crass jokes and demeaning comments about his children. All the while, she could not help but notice that William seemed to have no control over his ogling of the servant girls, even resorting to pinching one as she tried to serve him his dessert.
As the meal concluded, the Earl excused himself to his study and left Louise with William, Camille, and Denise. The young ladies glanced at her with little interest and without a word left the room. Louise stood awkwardly not knowing which way to go. She did not even have an idea of where her room was. She turned to William who was watching her boldly with amusement on his face.
"You look flustered, my dear."
Louise tried to still her nerves and suddenly felt as though she were a hare caught in a trap.
"I, I think I should retire. It has been a long day for me."
William moved to stand in front of Louise. He was taller than her by a head, but as he stepped close, Louise was forced to tilt her head back. At the proximity, she grew even more nervous. She stepped backward and abruptly fell back into the chair.
William laughed mockingly.
"Come now, Baroness. You have nothing to fear from me."
"What do you mean?" Louise challenged as she pushed herself back to her feet.
"I mean, while you are certainly attractive, so long as you are spoken for by my father, I will not touch you. After all, I do have some principles."
Louise flushed at his bold statement. Not knowing how to respond, whether he was being truthful or simply trying to get her guard down, she met his gaze and saw he was laughing at her.
"You are a shameful man, Master Crewe."
William smirked at Louise, but offered her his arm.
"Come. I am sure we have been remiss in showing you where you will be staying. I will show you the way."
Louise reluctantly placed her hand on his arm. At her touch, William stiffened. He paused mid-step but said nothing and then continued on. He led the way up to the second floor without another word. Louise took the silence between them as an opportunity to look around the massive old house even though it was too dark to see very much. William led her down the right wing and passed several doors before he stopped. He opened the door and nodded into the room.
"This is your room, Baroness. I hope it meets with your approval."
Louise stepped forward, but William caught her arm and spun her to face him. He pressed her back into the frame of the door. He leaned close to Louise, so close she could feel his breath on her face, and the musky scent of him washed over her.
"Master Crewe, you said..."
"I know what I said." He whispered back. He stood close to her for what seemed an eternity, and Louise was certain he could hear her heart beating for she feared it would beat right out of her chest. She dared not meet his eyes, so she stared determinedly over his shoulder at a candle burning in its sconce. William leaned closer and breathed against her ear.
"What a prize that old fool has found himself."
Then he let go of Louise and stormed down the hall without another word. Louise sucked in a ragged breath and slid backward into the room. She closed the door and locked it. Without a thought about changing, she fell on her bed and sobbed herself to sleep.
Chapter Two
The following weeks went by slowly for Louise. The Earl, harsh, rude, and completely ignorant to her feelings demanded that she be at his beck and call, treating her more as a personal maid than his future wife. He acknowledged he
r fair looks, but he did nothing to try to get to know her or win her over. Louise was thankful for that. In her heart, she knew she would never love the man. She felt guilt that she was essentially using the old man, but then she thought of her dear Olivia and all her guilt immediately diluted, to be replaced with grim determination. She imagined that any mother in her shoes would do the very same thing.
So she spent the weeks acquainting herself with the large estate, the servants, the family, a little of the history, and waited expectantly for the Earl to put up the banners announcing their wedding date. When she was called into his study early one morning, she expected that he had finally set a date, and her heart skipped in anticipation. A date meant she was closer to bringing her Olivia home.
She stepped into the study and stopped in her tracks as she took in the wooden crates and trunks scattered around the room. The Earl stood near an opened container but noticed her enter.
"Ah, yes, you are here. Good." He motioned for her to take a chair.
"I have to leave immediately. I had a shipment leave India and it has been lost en route. I am catching a steamer to France and then will be traveling the route myself to see if I can determine where this blasted shipment has vanished. There's been some talk of pirates in the strait of Gibraltar. I'd be sincerely surprised if it's not being shared amongst the marauders as we speak!"
Alarmed, Louise sat on the edge of the seat, "I am to remain here without you?"
The Earl looked at her quizzically, "Well, of course. I cannot have some young clueless slip of a woman tagging along and slowing me down." He turned his back on her and she laughed ironically to herself as she watched him slowly maneuver around the study, his bulk making him slow and ungainly. Still, the thought of remaining in the house with his two ungrateful and malicious daughters and William, especially William, made her skin crawl with chills. As the color drained from her face at the ordeal she was about to face, the Earl looked at her and noted her expression.
"Buck up, woman!" he exclaimed loudly, "I shan't be gone long. I expect I will not go all the way to India. As soon as we find the lost shipment, I will return home. I trust you can act as keeper of the home, as you will soon have to at any rate."
Louise met the man's watery gaze and nodded her head firmly.
"Of course. I am certain I can do that."
The Earl smirked but he turned away.
"Very well, then," he said over his shoulder. "You may go about your business. I will be on my way within the hour."
Louise rose to her feet and left the study. She stopped in the doorway and looked back at her future husband. She pitied the man; he was not loved. Not even by his own children, that much was evident. Yet, in that moment, she was also thankful. At least she had Olivia. With the thought of Olivia in her mind, she purposefully moved away from the study with plans of how to use the Earl's absence to take a trip of her own.
Chapter Three
The Earl had been gone a day before Louise finally began the planning for her trip to London. She sought out Camille and shared her intentions to visit an old friend in London while the Earl was away. Louise had no friends in London, but she knew Camille would not know that, and two days later, after being careful to avoid William and his sisters as much as she could, Louise was on another coach bound for the bustling capital.
In the light of a bright, cheery morning she was let off on a street corner in a reputable part of town. She recognized the area from a visit she had made once with her Aunt, and she knew it was a good area to stop so the coachman would not let word get back that could endanger her prospects with the Earl. She stood on the side of the cobble stone street and waited for the coach to disappear out of sight. Then she hoisted her small carpetbag and gaining her bearings set to walking to the orphanage where Olivia was kept.
Louise walked for what seemed like hours. She passed elegant city homes, streets lined with fancy shops, and gradually made her way closer to the water. She could smell the salt of the Thames and hear the gulls and birds fighting for the scraps of fish and trash left over from the fishermen and tradesmen that loitered on the docks.
The streets became narrower and darker. The buildings less cared for. The people more unkempt. Their bold gazes were less friendly and most certainly hungrier. She knew they were not necessarily hungry for food either, but for anything that could make their lives better for even a moment. Pickpockets and thieves were dominant in the parts of the ghetto she found herself in. She held back the bile that threatened to choke her as she thought of the place where the orphanage sat. The very location was a testament to how little hope the children inside had of ever having a life of comfort and ease.
Suddenly, Louise found herself in front of a pair of heavy wooden doors wide enough that when they opened a wagon could pass through them. She knocked hard on the door and waited. After several minutes, a small peephole opened.
"Yes. What do you want?" a harsh masculine voice demanded.
"If you please, sir. I am here to see the director regarding a child."
"Name?"
"Baroness Burbanks."
The peephole slammed shut and Louise found herself staring at the wooden doors. She felt the eyes of the people roaming the street behind her, but she willed herself to keep her nerves and stare forward. After nearly ten minutes, the wooden gate creaked open and a miserly old man waved her through.
"Come on. I ain't got all day."
Louise hurried through the door and found herself for the third time in the damp and muddy courtyard of the orphanage. There were no signs of life. No signs of the happiness of childhood. Just mud from one stonewall to another. Blacks, and browns, and grays; a joyless palette for anyone let alone children.
The old man led the way and Louise followed close behind as he slid through the mud across the courtyard and to a heavy wooden door with an ornate leaded glass window. Louise knew that at one point, the orphanage had actually been the home of a notable tradesman, but when he died childless, he had given the home over to be an orphanage. Louise wondered to herself if this state of affairs was what that old man had envisioned.
She stepped inside and found herself on a thick red carpet, worn in spots from years of being uncared for. The old man led her to a room where the director, a severe looking woman with wire rimmed glassed and hair pulled back into a tight knot sat behind a sturdy, ancient desk.
The old woman rose to her feet, "We meet again, Baroness. Have a seat, if you will."
Louise took her seat on a rugged chair and folded her hands in her lap.
"What brings you here?"
Louise took a deep breath.
"Well, Madam, I am betrothed now. I wanted to start the paperwork to bring my Olivia home with me once I am wed."
The woman looked over her glasses at Louise.
"Betrothed is not enough to get the paperwork started, Baroness. You must have certificate of marriage for the state to allow your child to return with you."
"But..."
The woman raised her hands and grimaced at Louise. "I do not make the laws, Baroness. I do have to uphold them, however." she finished mattter-of-factly.
Louise had not expected to be turned away quite so suddenly and her head spun momentarily. In her confusion, she whispered. "Might I then see my Olivia? For but the briefest moment? Just so she knows her mother has not forgotten her?"
The woman narrowed her eyes at Louise. "You know I cannot allow that. It will disrupt her daily activities and will cause too great an emotional commotion."
Louise felt anger flare up inside her. "What you mean is it will disrupt the mundane chores you have set for her. It will mean you will have to actually show some sort of basic human kindness. Heaven forbid..."
"Thank you for your visit, Baroness. I look forward to the certificate of your marriage once the time comes." The woman rang a bell and the old man reappeared. She looked at Louise, a smug expression on her face. "Good day, Baroness."
Louise got to her
feet and stood trembling as she stared at the older woman. A thousand things ran through her mind, words she ached to say, but she bit her tongue as a single tear of desperation slid down her cheek. She turned on her heel and followed the old man out into the hall. In the hall, she touched the old man's arm.
"Please, sir, I beg of you. Would you please give this to my Olivia?" Louise held out a tiny doll made of fabric scraps that Louise had collected. "Would you please tell her it is from her mama?"
The old man took the tiny doll and stared down at it a moment.
"Which is your Olivia?"
Louise beamed at the man. "She is the little one with the blond curls. Curls so tight they bounce when she walks and plays."
The old man peered at Louise, "They do not bounce, for she does not play."
Louise fought back a whimper, and the old man sighed.
"All right. Follow me. I cannot let you talk to her and she cannot know you are here, but I will give her your gift and you can see that."
Louise nearly fainted from appreciation. She followed the old man down the hall to the back of the large building. He told her to move to a window as he stepped into the back yard where the orphanage kept its livestock. Louise looked out the window and saw the children tending to the chickens, goats, and rabbits. She noted the clothing, thin and threadbare, dirty and ill fitting. She moved her eyes over the children until she saw a tiny form crouching over a mud puddle. She saw the curls, but they were dirty and sagging from dirt and mud. She watched the old man walk up to the poor wretch.
Olivia stood up but kept her eyes on the ground. Her tiny little hands and face were covered in bites and sores from lice and bed bugs. Her hair matted in places and frizzy in others. Her little dress, which looked not bigger or better than a pillow case barely went past her knees revealing bruised legs with scabs and sores and bare feet positively blue from the cold.
Tears streamed down Louise's face as she took in her little angel, and she began to sob as the old man handed the small doll to Olivia. The look of joy on her child's face outshone all the dark and dismal surroundings. Louise turned away, unable to watch anymore and she fled down the hall, out the courtyard, and out of the orphanage unable to bear the childlike faith, hope, and joy on her small daughter's face even as she stood in the middle of filth and neglect. As Louise worked her way to a better part of town to catch a coach back to the country, her determination compounded.
Clean Regency Romance: The Earl's Temptation (The Pure Heart Triumphs Series Book 1) Page 3
