by Amelia Grey
Probably because he was starving for a hearty meal.
“Luckily, I was able to squeeze in one more chair,” her aunt said, and then paused before adding, “Right beside you.”
“Why did you seat him beside me?”
“It was the easiest way to avoid upsetting my entire seating arrangements, of course. It would have been a nightmare of shuffling back and forth at the last minute if I’d tried to move anyone else.” She purposefully paused. “I’m thinking now perhaps I should have.”
“Why is that?” Katherine asked casually, though she was sure she knew the reason. She’d seen Lady Littlehaven bending her aunt’s ear with a prolonged conversation.
Her aunt looked at her with piercing green eyes. “Did you really exchange dinner plates with the earl?”
Katherine would bet her pin money that the Dowager Countess of Littlehaven was the one who’d spilled the tattle. Still, she asked, “Which one told you? Lady Littlehaven or Mrs. Henshawe?”
“Both.”
Oh dear!
There was nothing to do but admit to the breach in manners. “I’m sorry, Auntie. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but all I can say is that I offered the food to Lord Greyhawke before I thought about the consequences.”
“That is obvious, my dear. I did my best to smooth over your peccadillo by assuring them you saw a chip in the china and you simply couldn’t let an earl eat off a dinner plate that had been damaged. Why, the broken piece could have been in his food. Imagine what would have happened if he’d bitten down on it!”
Katherine laughed. “Auntie, how did you get so clever?”
“With age, my dear. There are not many things that haven’t passed by me at least once or twice. But I’m baffled as to why you would do such a thing. He had his own food.”
Her aunt was not only clever, she was curious. Katherine shifted her weight from her good leg to her cane. She didn’t want to be asked more questions about Lord Greyhawke. She had already been set upon by Melba, Madeline, and Penny twice tonight about the earl, and other ladies who stayed for coffee, too. Plus there was constant chatter in the drawing room about him and all the possible reasons he might have returned to Town after such a long absence. Most of the ladies were certain he’d come to London looking for a countess. Katherine had once again successfully dodged having to give any of them information about her discussions with the earl.
Lady Leola would not be so easy to evade.
“He had already finished his dinner and he still looked hungry,” she said, deciding the truth was the best answer.
Her aunt looked aghast. “Hungry? That’s preposterous. How does anyone look hungry?”
“Aunt Lee, I’m sorry. It’s done. Over. All I can do is ask that you forgive me.”
“Of course. That is not the issue here.” She reached up and patted Katherine’s cheek affectionately. “Knowing Lady Littlehaven as I do, I fear this incident will end up in the scandal sheets. And the duke will be asking me why you can get your name in gossip columns but not on a marriage license.”
Auntie Lee looked so stricken that Katherine felt truly repentant for her antics at the dinner table. But how could she explain that even though she knew it was wrong, she’d wanted to do it for the earl?
“I will just have to tell Uncle Quillsbury that gossip is part of finding the right man to make a match.”
“That will not satisfy the duke, my dear. Now, let’s go in. My feet are getting cold.”
“Auntie, may I stay out here for a little while? I know it’s chilly, but look how big and bright and beautiful the moon is tonight. There isn’t a cloud in the sky to shadow it. I promise I won’t stay too long.”
Auntie Lee didn’t look up at the sky. She studied Katherine’s face a bit more closely than Katherine would have liked. “Something tells me you want to stand out here in the quiet of the evening, look at that romantic moon, and think about Lord Greyhawke. Am I right?”
“He’s like no one I’ve ever met before,” Katherine admitted without fear of reprisal or teasing.
“That’s saying a lot, my dear, considering you’ve been in Society for more than two years now and have met every eligible bachelor in the ton and most of the Italian counts who are visiting London, too. I must confess, it never crossed my mind when I seated the earl beside you that he might be the first gentleman to prick that hard shell of yours.”
Did she have a hard shell? Yes, she’d rebuffed all the gentlemen who’d shown interest in her in the past, but she couldn’t do that anymore. She’d promised the duke she would make a match by the end of the Season.
“Or that you might find favor with the man,” her aunt continued.
Katherine was willing to admit to being interested in the earl. And once again, she wondered if she should add him to her list of prospects, even if he enjoyed dancing.
“The earl is very handsome and intriguing.”
“Indeed he is.”
“How well do you know him?”
“We’ve met, of course, but I don’t know him.”
“Did you hear gossip about him after he left London?” Katherine asked cautiously.
“Of course, my dear. We all did and we all understood.” She paused. “All right, stay out here and dream your dreams, enjoy your flights of fancy. I hope the real earl will measure up to whatever your imagination conjures tonight. Don’t stay out too long.”
“Thank you, Auntie. I won’t.”
While her aunt turned away and went inside, Katherine clutched her velvet wrap tighter at the base of her throat and walked a short distance down the stone pathway to get out from under the harsh glare of the lamp beside the door. She was thankful for the few minutes alone in the cold air. Perhaps she needed to clear her head concerning the earl.
After her unexpected brush with Lord Greyhawke’s hand, she’d had little to say to anyone. Thankfully, Mrs. Henshawe and Lady Littlehaven chose not to say anything to her about the breach in etiquette and carried the conversation through their buttery dessert and until Uncle Quillsbury signaled dinner was over.
Everyone knew what to do without being told. Gentlemen were to join the duke in his book room for brandy and the latest business and political gossip. The ladies joined Katherine and her aunt in the drawing room for coffee, port, and the latest Society chatter from the gossipmongers. And the main topic among the ladies had been Lord Greyhawke.
After the drinks had been poured, Katherine had been set upon by her friends to divulge her dinner conversation with the handsome earl. She managed to foil their attempts once again by insisting Lord Greyhawke spent most of the time talking to Lady Littlehaven and Mrs. Henshawe. Later, when Penny and Madeline cornered Mrs. Henshawe, they had to agree with Katherine. Once the lady had started talking, she talked only about herself and not the earl at all.
Katherine was definitely conflicted about him. It was odd. Though she hardly knew anything about him, she felt she knew him well. He created an uncommon mixture of feelings and emotions inside her. In the space of one evening and two separate meetings, he had stunned her, complimented her, and confused her. He’d made her laugh, made her remember, and made her want to know more about the thrilling, swirling sensations that swept through her when his hand touched hers.
Too, there was that unfamiliar fear that she couldn’t quite shake. Just because she thought the earl had felt all the wonderful things that filled her didn’t mean that he had felt the same things she had.
The front door opened and Katherine looked behind her. Her heart lurched and then began the enticing fluttering she always felt when she first saw Lord Greyhawke. He was walking out, swinging his cloak over his shoulders as he went. Looking at him from a distance, she could tell what a tall, magnificent, powerfully built man he was.
He didn’t see her standing halfway down the stone path until he placed his hat on his head and started down the steps. His footfalls slowed and he removed the hat that she’d just watched him don.
His ga
ze swept up and down her face. Katherine felt an unfamiliar sensation in her breasts, her lower stomach, and between her legs as his stride shortened the distance between them.
Chapter 9
This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers.
—The Merry Wives of Windsor, act 5, scene 1
“Miss Wright, is everything all right?” the earl asked.
“Yes, of course,” she answered, automatically tightening her hand on her cane. “Why do you ask?”
“Maybe because it’s well after midnight and you are standing outside alone.” He stopped in front of her and pretended to look all around the area with a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “You are alone, aren’t you?”
“Obviously, not anymore. You are here. And yes, everything is perfectly fine. It’s just that it’s such a lovely night, I wanted to enjoy looking at the sky before I retired for the evening.”
He stuffed his gloves into the pocket of his coat. “You should have brought a heavier wrap if you were going to do that. It’s more than chilly out tonight.”
She looked down at her black velvet shawl, which she held together with one gloved hand at the base of her throat. Her gown was thin, and her dainty shoes were not made for outside wear. Her toes and nose were already cold, but she’d let them go numb before she’d admit that to the handsome earl.
“It’s nippy, but not freezing. Besides, I didn’t plan to be out long. Auntie Lee just went back inside, and I feel quite safe standing a mere twelve paces from my front door. I’ve no doubt that should I be accosted by an errant footpad, there are several carriage drivers who would hear my screams and come running to my aid.” She hesitated and teased him with a suspicious expression. “So if you have any intentions of accosting me, my lord, you’d best dash them right now.”
Lord Greyhawke chuckled. “You will have no need of dozing drivers to aid you tonight, Miss Wright. I am many things, but not a fool. I have no doubt you could put me in my place should I try to force you to do anything against your will.”
“In any case, I would try.”
He took a step closer to her. “Then perhaps I should test your fortitude, Miss Wright.”
A smile touched the corners of her mouth. “I am woefully inadequate to match wits or challenges with you, my lord.”
“There’s not one sliver of truth to what you just said, but I appreciate your effort to try to make me think it’s so. No matter the subject of our discussion, you are a worthy opponent.”
His voice had been husky, low, and filled with compelling warmth. And again she wondered if he was feeling the connection to her that she felt to him.
“So our paths cross for the third time tonight,” she said.
He nodded once. “Do you think perhaps there’s something to that old saying ‘Third time is lucky’?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps for you, but I’m afraid my luck is about as nonexistent as forthcoming miracles.”
“I thought the same until I looked up and saw you standing out here in front of me.”
“I suppose it’s easy to see someone three different times at a small dinner party, my lord.”
“Small? Only you and your uncle would consider thirty people a small gathering for dinner.”
A sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh passed her lips. “Dukes have a way of doing even small things on a grand scale. Were you not enjoying yourself? Gentlemen don’t usually leave Uncle Quillsbury’s book room so early.”
His gaze left her face and he looked up at the night sky. She had the feeling he was remembering something, so she remained quiet.
Finally his gaze found hers and he said, “There was a time I indulged in spirits until I couldn’t drink anymore. Those days are behind me now. And I find I sleep better if I refrain from too much brandy at night. It was better that I take my leave.”
She was pleasantly amazed and heartened that he’d decided to give her a glimpse into his past.
“I’m much the same way,” she said as casually as he’d spoken. “If I drink more than one glass of champagne in an evening I usually get a headache, and I don’t sleep well either.”
“You know that’s because all those bubbles you drink go straight to your brain and start popping.”
She shook her head at his silly comment and loosened the tight clutch she had on her shawl. “I can’t believe you said that without smiling. It’s so unscientific it’s grossly outrageous and you know it. You will not make me believe that’s true, so don’t think about trying.”
He laughed for a moment, too, and then said, “All right.” He glanced down at the hat in his hands before fastening his gaze on hers once again. “We’ll change the subject and talk about something more serious. You looked wistful when I saw you standing near the dance floor tonight. What were you thinking about?”
She mouthed a silent Oh before saying, “Wistful? I’m not sure that’s true.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“Well, you are wrong. I’m not given to sentimental flights of fancy in that way.”
“Then tell me what you were thinking.”
Tell him what she was thinking? Not in a million years. She couldn’t tell him that she had a list of prospective husbands and she was looking at the gentlemen who were dancing, trying to decide who enjoyed the pastime and who didn’t.
“No, I will not tell you,” she said, and then gave a soft laugh. “You just don’t give up, do you?”
“It wasn’t threatening.”
“Maybe not to you.”
“It was a simple question.”
“It was a personal question, my lord,” she argued playfully. “After all we said previously about private inquiries, you have no compunction about asking me what I’m thinking. You have no qualms asking anything that crosses your mind, do you?”
“None whatsoever,” he admitted without arrogance, humor, or guilt. “That is how you learn things you want to know, Miss Wright. And I want to get to know you.”
“All right, then, my lord,” she said, feeling emboldened by his foray into the out-of-bounds abyss. She lifted her chin and her shoulders. “Fair is fair, as they say. If I answer one personal question for you, you must answer one for me. Agreed?”
She instantly felt a change in him. Doubt flashed across his handsome features. He wavered. She hadn’t expected that. He’d been so forceful in wanting to know about her, she thought he’d jump at the chance to quiz her no matter the price. Though she didn’t mind that he wanted to think about her proposal before accepting her terms. If he agreed, fine. If he didn’t, maybe he’d stop meddling into her past since he was so unwilling to give up a little of his own.
His gaze remained hard and fast on hers. “That’s a hard bargain to accept, Miss Wright.”
She stared back at him without flinching. “Take it or leave it. It matters not to me whether you are willing to make a sacrifice for what you want to know about me.”
She smiled confidently, happy with her tactic to show him no mercy. He certainly didn’t seem to be willing to show any to her.
He took so long to answer her, she was sure he was going to back away, but suddenly he said, “So it’s a challenge after all?”
“If you choose to look at it that way. I think of it as simply sharing a little about ourselves with each other.”
He frowned. “Sharing? There aren’t many things that I would be willing to share, Miss Wright.”
She sucked in a short chuckle, hoping to appear indifferent to his answer. “That has become quite obvious, my lord, and I completely understand your hesitancy.” But she remained firm. “Your call, but if you don’t ante up, then neither shall I.”
He nodded slightly. “In that case, Miss Wright, ladies first. What’s your question for me?”
He was constantly surprising her. “I’m impressed you want me to go first. Is it because you are a gentleman, or is it you have no fear that I won’t keep my part of the bargain?”
She waited in s
ilence for his reply. He seemed to sear her with his dark, penetrating stare. She was ready to give up getting an answer when he said quietly, “I’m not concerned about you keeping your promise at all. I’m worried whether or not I will keep my promise and answer what you ask of me if you go first.”
Chapter 10
I’ll smother thee with kisses.
—Venus and Adonis, 18.
At that moment, Katherine knew the lightheartedness of their conversation was at an end. And until that moment, she’d had no thought as to what she would ask. But from somewhere deep inside herself, she found her query. “So then, I’ll go first. Tell me, why do they call you the beast?”
His brows shot up. “The beast? That’s news to me. I didn’t know anyone did.”
That admission startled her. She had just assumed he’d know about the gossip that had swirled around the ton after his wife’s death.
A crisp wind blew a loose strand of hair across her cheek. And she realized she had grown not colder but warmer since the earl arrived. She dropped her hold on her shawl and brushed the hair behind her ear.
She met his gaze without flinching, but her voice softened as she said, “Rumor has it that you destroyed the inside of your house the night your wife and babe died. Is that true?”
His eyes remained calm and steady, but she knew her question troubled him when she saw that he swallowed hard. She was sure at that moment he was wishing he hadn’t made the pact with her. For an instant she thought about telling him not to answer, to forget about her challenge to him that they both should divulge a part of their past. But the words never emerged from her throat.
“That’s the second question you’ve asked, Miss Wright,” he said in a low voice.
With that she knew taking her words back would gain her nothing. She had to follow through with what she had started. “You had no answer for the first.”
He looked down at his hat and twirled it a couple of times in his hands before saying, “You know how to get the most out of a question. All right, the answer to your second is, yes.”
