Never Entice an Earl

by Lily Dalton

  “Good-bye, Daphne,” Bamble said, gathering his belongings.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to London. I hope you understand, I am sorry about all this. Truly sorry, but it was the only way I could get him to forgive my debt.”

  “Who?”

  Bamble scrambled down the stairs and Rackmorton appeared to take his place.

  “Hello, my dear.” He climbed the stairs and joined her inside. “Are you ready to become my marchioness?”

  “You!”

  His hungry gaze devoured her, and a tremor of fear raced down her spine. If he was capable of scheming to this degree, and of kidnapping, of what else might he be capable? What did he intend? Behind her back she worked at the cord Bamble had tied on her wrists, stretching and tugging so as to loosen it.

  “I know. It’s a surprise. I apologize for the dramatics, but I feared you would never get into a carriage with me, let alone agree to wed. And I’ve ensured your…unfortunate distraction will not interfere. Raikes, yes, I know all about him, and the little dalliance you’ve shared. I saw your…dress there on the floor beside the bed, you see, just the merest glimpse of it, but it was such a distinctive color of blue. It took every ounce of my control not to kill him then, knowing it was you there with him under that sheet, but the others would have seen.”

  His eyes glinted with such fury, her fear only increased, but now for Cormack. Worry crashed through her belly, almost sickening her.

  “What have you done to Lord Raikes?” she demanded.

  He shrugged. “Don’t worry your pretty head over it. I only acted to guard what has been mine all along. And he deserved it after all, regardless even of you. At first we didn’t realize who he was. But, after he started snooping around, Bamble pulled out one of his books, a volume of Debrett’s, and that answered quite a few questions. He was that fellow, years ago, badgering his bettors and causing problems. The Duke of Rathcrispin was so furious with us all, for bringing down question upon his good name. Tragic thing about his sister. Honestly, I don’t know who was responsible for that particular scandal, but it wasn’t me or anyone else of whom I’m aware. Still, you might as well forget about Lord Raikes. He and his revenge plot are dead in a ditch somewhere in the country, far, far away.”

  No. She couldn’t live…she couldn’t exist if something had happened to Cormack.

  She fought off grief and calmed herself. She had to believe Cormack was still alive. At last, she worked her hands free of their bindings.

  She quietly suggested, “Very well, if marriage is what you want, let us return to London and announce our engagement to the papers in the typical way. We can plan a wedding. Please don’t deprive my mother—or yours—of that joy.”

  “Oh, God, no. Your family wouldn’t allow it, I have no doubt. I’ve seen the way they look at me, with dislike and, yes, even revulsion. I don’t know why, considering all I have to offer. Nonetheless, your protectors would step in. It’s what compelled me to arrange for this whole elopement. Given the circumstances, I knew Raikes would cause problems. He forced my hand, and I had to act.”

  Daphne, filled with fury, seized up her reticule from the bench beside her and, swinging it hard, struck him against the side of the head. “You will let me go.”

  He fell to the side, clasping a hand to his face.

  “Now that’s enough!” he shouted, reaching for her, lunging, his arms and legs securing her against the bench. “I had hoped to be a gentleman about this, but it appears I shall have to take you now, to ensure your compliance.”

  He grabbed at her skirts, and yanked them high—

  Just then, something darted into view outside the window. A rider on a horse? Daphne turned, losing sight of them.

  But Rackmorton plastered himself beside the open window, extending his head all the way out to see.

  “Damn it all to hell,” he bellowed.

  The rider—no, riders—appeared again. She recognized Cormack, his hair flying back from his battered face. He was alive. She had never been more relieved. And there, racing behind him, were Claxton and Havering as well! A flash of movement drew her attention to the opposite window, where Kincraig appeared on horseback.

  Suddenly, Rackmorton produced a pistol.

  “Careful!” she screamed, but Havering rode past, disappearing from his saddle with all the skill of a circus performer, to climb onto the driver’s roost.

  Twisting, Rackmorton pummeled the carriage roof, shouting. “Faster! Don’t slow down.”

  Daphne struck him with her reticule again, doing her best to knock the firearm from his grasp, but he shoved her back.

  In that moment, Cormack hurtled through the window, only half of him making it through. Rackmorton aimed, but she kicked at his hand and the gun went flying. The marquess didn’t hesitate, but did some kicking of his own, thrusting his heel against Cormack’s shoulders.

  Daphne screamed, terrified he would fall out and be trampled or run over by the carriage wheels, but with a powerful flex of his arms he dragged himself through—

  Rackmorton shoved at him, trying to force him back out. Cormack’s fist came round, finding satisfaction at the center of the marquess’s face, and his legs went sprawling. Daphne, remembering his crude threat, kicked him in the groin, and he screamed, rolling to his side on the bench, and falling in a ball to the floor. The carriage rolled to a sudden stop.

  Cormack slid all the way through the window to sit upright across from her, and demanded, “Are you all right? Did he hurt you? Did he—”

  “I am unhurt!” she cried. “How did you find me?”

  “We just followed the trail of destroyed books, and once we found Bamble, he spilled everything.” With a growl, he dragged Rackmorton through the door and down the stairs, to discard him on the grass at the side of the road. Havering had control of the horses’ harnesses, while Kincraig climbed down, dragging the driver behind him, and Claxton dismounted. Soon, they had all gathered around the man who had put into action a plan to abduct her.

  Cormack! She could not contain her joy at seeing him. Daphne descended the steps, and running across the grass, threw herself into his arms, pressing kisses onto his bruised face. “Your face. What happened? Oh, my darling—”

  He stiffened, and she realized the mistake of what she had done.

  “Interesting,” muttered Kincraig.

  She released Cormack immediately, and stepped back, looking between Claxton and Havering, who stared at her in wide-eyed dismay. “And you—Havering!” They all stood there, staring at her in silence. Knowing not else what to do, she flung herself into Fox’s arms.

  “My darling Havering. You saved me as well.” He stood unmoving in her arms. Peering up, she saw that he stared thunderously at Cormack.

  “Claxton? Kincraig?” she said weakly. “Thank you all.”

  Cheeks burning, she climbed back into the carriage and closed the door.

  But already day turned to night, and Claxton made the decision that they would send word to London that they had recovered Daphne unharmed, but out of concerns for safety and the dangers of traveling the road in the dark, that they would pass the night at the nearby inn. They supped in absolute silence, with Rackmorton fuming alone on the far side of the room, his back to them all. Daphne hadn’t known if words on Cormack’s behalf would help or hinder their situation. But each time she’d tried, he had silenced her with a glance.

  Eventually, the fire on the hearth grew dim, and Claxton quietly, but firmly, suggested she retire.

  “This way, miss,” the innkeeper’s wife instructed, leading Daphne toward her room. Rackmorton had been committed to a windowless room beneath the stairs, the door of which was just a few feet away, and he could not effect an escape without their knowing.

  Halfway up the stairs, Daphne turned to glance over her shoulder just in time to see Claxton level his gaze upon Cormack. “I believe you and I have something to discuss in private.”

  Havering muttered, “Dam
n you, Raikes.”

  Cormack nodded solemnly. “Yes. Yes, indeed we do.”

  Daphne burst out, her hands gripping the banister, “Did you ever stop to think that perhaps Lord Raikes is blameless, and that this is all my doing? That I seduced him?”

  “Quiet,” barked the duke, his eyes flashing fire. “Go to your room, and do not come through the door until morning.”

  She did not budge, but remained in that spot, defiant and mutinous.

  Cormack said to her in a quiet voice, “Daphne, you must do as Claxton says. Everything will be all right.”

  “But this is all my fault.”

  “Please,” he said.

  With a groan of frustration, she did as she was told.

  *

  Only when she was gone did any of them speak again.

  The duke turned his attention fully on Cormack. “Obviously a matter has arisen that requires immediate resolution. Do you dare deny that you have been intimate with my unwed sister-in-law?”

  Cormack closed his eyes and shook his head.

  Havering cursed. He stood against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw tight and furious. “I’d never have expected it of you, Cormack. To think I entrusted her to you. Implicitly. God, wasn’t I a fool? If her brother Vinson was here, he would drag you out into the yard and shoot you dead for dishonoring her so. So help me, I am tempted to do the same.”

  “I understand your anger.”

  He hated feeling as if he had disappointed these men, both of whom he held in the highest respect, but his foremost concern at the moment was Daphne, and that she not be hurt in any of this.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” said Claxton, with a lowering glare, “but I thought you were betrothed.”

  “Which makes this all the more sordid,” Fox growled. He broke away from the wall, to pace the length of the floor.

  Cormack chose his response carefully. “There is no formal betrothal, but rather an agreement that was intended to bring about the return of my family’s ancestral lands. The girl in question is but twelve years old. It is her father with whom I will have to contend, and I will do so.”

  The duke’s nostrils flared in displeasure. “Indeed you will. You will break this agreement, as discreetly as is allowed. Although it riles me beyond bearing that Daphne should marry a libertine who cared so little for her so as to seduce her. Your unforgiveable actions have left us no other choice.”

  How true the words were. Daphne was his choice. Even before he’d discovered her abduction, he’d known he couldn’t live his life without her. Hell, thinking back now, he’d known since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her. All this had been inevitable, and he could not find it in his heart to regret the result, though he abhorred the circumstance. He would marry her. He would give his life to keep and protect her. He just wished he could protect her now from even a modicum of shame. There was also the very real concern that she might not wish to marry him. She had always been so emphatic in that regard. Once they were alone, he would do anything in his power to persuade her.

  But in this moment, he had to persuade the two men who cared so deeply for her happiness.

  He said, “I would have married her regardless of your discovering our affair, once I persuaded her to agree. Make no mistake, I love her,” said Cormack emphatically. “And I know that she loves me as well, though she has not confessed it back. But I fear she will resist.”

  His Grace’s eyes narrowed. “If she loves you as well, then why would she?”

  “She has vowed not to marry, I am certain as some self-imposed penance for her father’s death.”

  “He is right, Claxton,” said Havering. “She has sworn it time and time again, that she has no wish to wed.” More softly, he added, “I think Raikes is right about the reason as well.”

  “She is stubborn and strong willed.” Cormack looked toward the stairs. “Mark my words. She will refuse me.”

  “She will not have that choice.” The duke exhaled through his nose. “You will undertake to obtain a special license tomorrow, as soon as we return to London. Do you understand? We will speak to Wolverton and Lady Harwick as soon as we return. You will accept full responsibility for all of this.”

  “I do,” he answered resolutely. “And I will.”

  *

  Daphne lay wide awake, listening to the silence of the inn, and wondering what had happened downstairs. In a rush of emotion, she had given them away. Now the duke would attempt to make Cormack marry her, in some misguided attempt to preserve her honor.

  A quiet tapping came at her window. Pushing up, she rushed to the glass to see Cormack’s face in the dark.

  “Cormack,” Daphne said, pushing the frame open to find him perched on a ladder. “I am so very sorry. To the bottom of my heart. I have ruined everything.”

  “No, you haven’t.” He reached inside and, with a warm smile that instantly calmed her racing heartbeat, took her hand. “The duke forbade you from passing through that door, but he didn’t say anything about the window. Come down, and take a walk with me. I’ll help you down.”

  When they had reached the bottom, he took her hand and led her toward the distant field.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just over there, on that hillside. I want to watch the stars with you.”

  She allowed him to lead her there, knowing that once there everything weighing on her heart could be said. Already from his demeanor, she knew what he would say. That he had agreed to marry her, as a consequence of their secret affair being discovered. But she wasn’t about to allow him to sacrifice himself and betray his duty to his family. Not for her, when she did not deserve such sacrifice.

  On the hillside, he spread his coat on a space of grass and, sitting pulled her down beside him, where they sat for a long moment in silence.

  In the darkness she could just make out the pale outline of wildflowers, and for a moment, she closed her eyes and remembered the dream where they’d made love in a field of blooms. But this wasn’t a dream, and she couldn’t imagine that he was anything but angry at her now for bringing this calamity upon them both.

  “Daphne, we’re going to be married.”

  She’d expected the words, but they still struck pain through her heart.

  “No.” She shook her head emphatically. “I refuse. You have an agreement to marry the girl so that you can obtain the lands your family lost.”

  “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

  “We were just supposed to have an affair! It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

  “I’m sorry about the way it all came about, but I’m not sorry it’s happened.”

  “I am. I have destroyed your dreams and broken my vow to myself. Don’t you understand, I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve a happily-ever-after?”

  “Why not, Daphne?” he said. “Please help me understand.”

  “I caused my father’s death with my selfishness, and I vowed that night never to fall in love. Never to marry. What point are vows, if they are not kept?”

  “What I don’t understand is how such a vow honors your father. How does that bring him back?”

  “It doesn’t, but, Cormack, my mother and father were so in love. More so after years of marriage than on the day they first wed. Not only did I shatter her happily-ever-after, I deprived my grandfather of his son and his heir, and my two sisters of their father. I owe my life to them. That sort of debt is never fully repaid.”

  He reached out and covered her hand with his own, twining his fingers between hers, and clasping it tight. “Your family does not expect that from you.”

  His gentle manner elicited the deepest feelings inside her, feelings she couldn’t even define. She desperately wanted him to hold her, but could see no alternative but to push him away.

  “Of course they don’t, but I made the promise to myself…because…because it was the only way I could live with myself.” She dashed away the tears from her eyes, but still,
they flowed, over her lashes and down her cheeks. “What good are promises to those you love, unless they are kept? You made a promise to your family as well—”

  “Then let us make new promises. Better ones, that honor those that we love.” Suddenly he seized her against him and pressed her back onto the soft ground. The fragrance of flowers filled her nose. His lips kissed the tears from her skin. “If your father was alive, I would ask him, no beg him, to allow me to marry you. But he is not, and so I ask you.”

  “Cormack, don’t,” she warned thickly.

  He kissed her hard, the power of his passion stealing her breath and her resistance.

  “Lands. Honor. Family. They are nothing without you.”

  His lips grazed over her cheeks, her eyelids and mouth in a pleasurable assault she found herself helpless to resist. She softened beneath him and wrapped her arms around his waist, wanting nothing more than to make love to him, here under the stars. But though her body surrendered, her heart still resisted.

  “Accept me,” he murmured against her skin. “Be my wife.”

  Yes. The word hovered on her tongue, but she refused her mouth permission to say it. She did not deserve this sort of happiness, not tonight, and certainly not forever.

  His hands touched her calves, her thighs, as he raised her skirts. Her body reacted, going liquid with desire, aching with a need so powerful she could only touch him as well, pushing his shirt up to smooth her hands greedily over her stomach and chest.

  “Say it,” he urged, lifting away to unfasten his breeches, and lowering again to kiss her. She kissed him back, moaning as he lowered himself between her thighs, hot and thick, where suddenly he stopped and rested his forehead to hers. “Please, Daphne, please…”

  “My love,” she whispered, though the word was barely a breath, moving beneath him, begging with her body that he make her complete.

  “You are my love, but that’s not good enough. I deserve more, as do you.” He breathed raggedly, touching her hair. “You demanded a secret of me, when I took you in my bed.”

  She stilled, listening not only with her ears, but with her heart.