The Earl of London

by Louise Bay

  “Goodnight, Mr. Player,” she said, trying to bite back a smile as she turned the key in the lock and went inside.

  I repressed a smile. She was just so bloody adorable. But thankfully, she’d not invited me to come in. I would have said no and hated myself for it. Or worse, I’d have said yes and hated myself for it.

  Either way, Darcy Westbury was a lose-lose situation. And I couldn’t help but wonder when I’d see her again.

  Nine

  Darcy

  It still didn’t feel quite right to be hosting people at Woolton Hall. My grandparents had been natural hosts. But I’d have to get better at it—the summer party would be here before I knew it. I straightened the last row of chairs in the dining room just as Aurora came in, carrying a tray of sandwiches.

  “Perfect,” I said. “Just put them on the table.” I’d pushed the dining table against the back wall to make room for the fifteen chairs I’d arranged in three rows. As well as the Woolton W.I. chapter, a number of other local groups had been invited along to listen to the speaker today.

  “What time are they arriving?” Aurora asked.

  “Any moment,” I replied. “But I think we’re ready.” I could have used a number of rooms at Woolton for the W.I. meeting, but this one wasn’t too big and held wonderful memories.

  “What’s the speaker talking about?”

  “The economy and whether or not we’re about to hit another financial crisis.”

  “Cheery,” Aurora said. “I think I prefer jam-making.”

  This was my opportunity to tell Aurora about Logan. We’d done our preparations and were ready for people to arrive. “I have something to tell you,” I said, straightening the tablecloth even though it was already perfectly straight. “About a guy.”

  Aurora wore a huge smile as if I’d just offered her wine and ice cream at the same time. “Are you dating someone?”

  “Gosh, no,” I said, removing an invisible piece of lint from the cloth. “But I did kiss Logan Steele and it’s no big deal. It’s not that I like him or anything, don’t get the wrong idea. It was just the circumstances and before I knew it, it just happened.”

  “Darcy, stop babbling.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “You absolutely should have. This is amazing news. When, where, how? Tell me everything!”

  I shrugged and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth.

  “Ryder and I ran into him when we were in London,” I explained. “He walked me home when Ryder headed off. It just kind of happened.”

  “I caught a glimpse of him in the farm shop the other day,” she said. “He’s very handsome.” She pretended to fan herself with her hand. “So, was it just a kiss?”

  “Of course it was.”

  She sighed as she twisted the corkscrew into a white wine bottle. “Shame.”

  “Aurora!”

  “Seriously, you need to get laid. How long’s it been now?”

  “Too long,” I mumbled, remembering the last time—I’d known I was going to end things with Henry, so it had been a little sad.

  “You don’t think I’m crazy?” I asked. “He’s a neighbor. And that article.”

  “Ignore the newspaper—you have to make up your own mind. And I think you’re crazy not to have slept with him.” She shrugged and began pouring wine into the glasses lined up on the table next to the sandwiches.

  “I’m not going to just sleep with every man I meet, Aurora—don’t act as if you’re sleeping with every guy you have dinner with.”

  “No, you’re right, I’m not, but I’m not having dinner with men that look like Logan Steele, either.”

  That was for sure—there weren’t many men who looked like Logan. Echoes of his hard body as he’d pressed against me, his firm grip and intense stare set goosebumps off over my skin.

  “I’m delighted for you.”

  “It’s not like anything else is going to happen. He’s not my type.”

  “Just relax about who is and isn’t your type and go with it. You should definitely fuck him, even if it’s to find out if he’s really hung as well as someone that good-looking should be.”

  I didn’t tell Aurora about the grinding. I was pretty sure he didn’t have a problem with penis size. Ego size? That was a different matter. “I just don’t think he needs me feeding his ego by being all into him.”

  “I’m suggesting you sleep with him.” She pulled out the cork with a satisfying pop. “You don’t have to fall in love. I know things have been tough. But you always cope with throwing yourself into work—protecting the Westbury legacy or something. Maybe try a different tactic. Have some fun.”

  Kissing Logan had been fun. And I found him interesting. I hadn’t given him enough credit. He was more than some wealthy idiot who was obsessed with money and success.

  “You think I’m the sort of person capable of just having a casual affair?” I’d half-expected Aurora to tell me I was being an idiot and men like that didn’t go for girls like me. The fact that she was so encouraging opened a door in my brain and allowed me to remember how perfect the kiss had been and how a second one might be even better.

  “You won’t know until you try. And what’s the worst that can happen?”

  “An STD?”

  “Use protection.”

  We laughed.

  “Maybe you’re right.” The press of his palms against mine, the scrape of scruff and the growl of his voice. Would I get a chance to feel it all again?

  Luckily, the doorbell chiming down the corridor distracted me from thinking about when I would see him next. How I’d shivered when he’d said I didn’t get to tell him when we were done. How I’d felt a little giddy as I’d said goodbye and gone inside. About how I wanted him to kiss me again. And soon.

  “Hello, Mrs. Lonsdale,” I said, forgetting my nerves at being hostess. “There are sandwiches, cordial, water and even some wine on the table.”

  “The perfect hostess, just like your grandmother.”

  Maybe I was spending too much time trying to be the perfect hostess, looking after Woolton, doing things I was supposed to do. Perhaps I should have a little more fun. It wasn’t as if I was about to marry Logan. But kissing him had been…nice, and doing it again would be nicer. Sleeping with him might be even better. It was just sex. Exercise. Endorphins. It wasn’t like I was going to fall for him.

  Everyone began to arrive and I went out into the kitchen to top up the cordial.

  “Darcy won’t be happy,” I heard as I nudged the door open with the tray of drinks that I’d brought through from the kitchen.

  “What won’t I be happy about?” I set down the tray and scanned the faces looking at me.

  “It’s about Logan,” Aurora said.

  Oh God, was he married? Gay? A serial killer?

  “You haven’t seen the plans he’s submitted, I assume?” Mrs. Lonsdale asked.

  “Plans?” I frowned.

  “He wants to open a nightclub in the village.”

  I burst out laughing. That couldn’t be true. We were a sleepy village in Chilternshire. It wasn’t a nightclub-going sort of place.

  “Well, not quite a nightclub,” Aurora said. “More of a private members’ club. A country retreat for people in the city who don’t have a place in the country.”

  Were they serious? This didn’t make any sense to me. “What do you mean?” Someone must have crossed wires. Why would he want to ruin his grandmother’s family home? The village where she’d clearly wanted to come back to?

  “He’s submitted plans to the local council to build on Badsley land,” Freida said. “Wants to create a bar and restaurant and some rooms—a small hotel complex for members.”

  My head spinning with a combination of disbelief and disappointment, I fell into one of the chairs. “But this is Woolton. He’ll ruin the place. What was he thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” Mrs. Lonsdale said. “Some people are saying it will be good to bring jobs to the a
rea.”

  “How can you say that?” Freida puffed out a breath. “This is the beginning of the end. If the Council allows this, then what next? Look at Kingsley. That used to be a beautiful village before they relaxed the planning laws.” Murmurings of agreement rumbled through the women. Kingsley had been almost as pretty as Woolton but now most of the locals had moved out as developers swooped in and bought up the village houses, ready to rent them out to tourists. A huge supermarket had opened just on the outskirts, attracting other chain stores in to replace the locally owned boutique stores. The soul of the place had been lost.

  “And what about the years of disruption before it opens?” Freida asked. “Have people forgotten how the Thompsons took three years to develop their place and that was just a house?”

  “And that beautiful countryside that he wants to build on. They’ll have to bring down trees that are hundreds of years old.” My childhood had been all about getting lost in Badsley’s woods all day with my brother, coming back with scraped knees and matted hair. Those adventures that Ryder and I had together had allowed us to be children, to live without worries. We built up our confidence after bearing the scars of our parents not wanting us during those days. And our grandparents let us play without concern. They knew we were safe. We didn’t have to worry about running into strangers. We knew everyone who lived locally. Would the children of Woolton have to be confined to their backyards?

  If the plans were in then Logan had been thinking about this since before he’d moved here. You couldn’t just shit out blueprints, they took time and planning. He clearly wasn’t just some nice guy who bought his grandmother’s childhood home so she could relive her memories. It had been far more calculated. Badsley was a business opportunity for him. Every time I thought I had him figured out, he fooled me again. No more. “Well, there’s no way the Parish Council will allow it. They have to preserve the village. They’ve learned their lesson from Kingsley,” I said.

  Mrs. Lonsdale raised her eyebrows. “From what I hear, Mr. Steele has been on a charm offensive. He’s been doing his best to tell Parish Council members all the benefits of the scheme. Employment. Putting Woolton on the map in a sophisticated way—”

  “We’re already on the map.”

  “We’ll have to band together. Form an opposition group,” Freida said. She was right. We would have to get organized if we were going to go against Logan who would have the best lawyers and consultants helping him. But right at that moment, it was as if I was paralyzed by disappointment. In him and in myself for kissing him. The fight had left me.

  “Darcy Westbury?” A tall woman in her thirties who looked as if she’d just stepped out of the city stood at the entrance.

  Swallowing down my sadness and frustration, I introduced myself to the evening’s speaker. “Yes. You must be Constance Reed. Welcome.” I smiled tightly. I’d never been very good at faking pleasantries. I took a deep breath, pushed down my devastation and tried for a more genuine smile. “We’re all very excited to have you here.”

  She looked slightly out of place with her blue skirt suit, patent heels and carefully made-up face, and exactly like the sort of sophisticated woman who’d look good with Logan Steele. I gritted my teeth at the thought of him and tried to distract myself as I ushered everyone to their seats.

  As much as world economics interested me, the only thing I could think about was how just a few minutes ago Logan had been a man I hoped might become my lover and now was someone who was set on destroying the place I cherished most in the world.

  Ten

  Logan

  As the sounds of the helicopter drew closer, I grabbed my jacket and keys. One of the perks of commuting this way was I could stay in the country on a Sunday night and still get into the office early on Monday. I glanced at my watch. I had an important call with China at ten, but I should just make it. I pulled the door shut behind me and headed toward the helicopter that had just landed.

  I ducked beneath the still-rotating blades and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a figure approaching over the lawns. I squinted through the wind and realized it was Darcy. I took a few steps toward her, the artificial breeze relenting slightly.

  I hadn’t seen her since our kiss last week. I supposed a part of me had wanted to run into her this weekend, but another part had been relieved I hadn’t. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d kissed a woman without fucking her. And although I knew that I shouldn’t be fucking Darcy, there had been something about our kiss that had left me far from satiated. I was used to deciding what I wanted and following through. But I couldn’t want Darcy. It just wasn’t practical. But something about that fact had rankled and left me irritated.

  I waved. “Hi,” I bellowed.

  As she marched toward me, her furious eyes came into focus. In one hand she gripped some papers, the other was fisted by her side.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she screamed. She didn’t slow down as she neared me. When she reached me, she shoved at my chest and I had to step back to stop myself from falling. What the hell was her problem?

  “What’s the matter?” I asked, completely confused.

  “What’s the matter? Are you serious?” she shouted, making herself heard above the noise of the helicopter. “You’re about to ruin this village and you ask me what’s the matter? You know full well what you’ve done.”

  I tried to focus on what she was saying rather than the way her hair lifted in the breeze, or the smear of mud on her left cheek. Neither one was adorable. I liked disciplined, glamorous women. Not screaming banshees.

  “Darcy, I really don’t have time for this.” I glanced toward the helicopter.

  “I bet you don’t. You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself or anything but money.”

  What the hell had her knickers in a knot? I didn’t have time to stop and talk to her. I had a meeting as soon as I landed followed by a jam-packed calendar, but I couldn’t leave her so…unhinged.

  She waved the papers in the air and shouted some more about how selfish I was, but I still had no idea what she was talking about and I wasn’t about to be late. Darcy Westbury would just have to come with me, but there was no way she’d agree to that.

  There was only one thing to do.

  Before she could ask me what the hell I was doing, I bent and tossed her over my shoulder. I kept my grip tight around her legs as I strode toward the waiting helicopter, Darcy kicking and screaming all the way. I tipped her into the interior of the Sikorsky, and followed as she scrambled to her feet and tried to open the door on the other side. “What are you doing, you maniac? You can’t kidnap me.”

  I pulled her away from the door and placed her into one of the eight seats. She continued to struggle until we started to take off and then she grabbed my arm, fear in her eyes, which at least meant I got the opportunity to fix her belt and mine.

  “Just calm down,” I said, sitting back in my chair.

  She narrowed her eyes. “I’m being kidnapped. Why would I be calm?”

  I gripped the armrests of my seat, trying not to laugh. “I’m not kidnapping you, for crying out loud. I just don’t have the time for you to shout at me in Woolton. You’ll have to yell while I go to the office. I have a meeting.”

  “Oh, you have a meeting. What if I have a meeting?”

  I sighed. “I thought you wanted to speak to me?”

  For the next few minutes I got the silent treatment.

  “I can’t believe you kissed me,” she mumbled.

  I was totally confused. “You’re angry because I kissed you?”

  “Given the circumstances, I want to cut your bollocks off.”

  “Have I missed something?” This girl was making my head spin, and not for the first time. “What circumstances? I thought we’d had a nice evening.” Kissing her had been phenomenal. The way she’d gasped as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was feeling. The way her smart mouth had yielded under my tongue. It hadn’t bee
n an ordinary kiss. It was the kind you carried with you your whole life, trying to find another that lived up to such promise.

  “But it was all a sham. You were just using me.”

  “It was a kiss. Using you, how?”

  “Just trying to soften me up before you dropped this fucking bomb.” She tossed the few remaining papers she had in her hand at me.

  I scooped the crumpled white sheets from my feet and recognized the planning application for the private members’ club I’d lodged. I’d planned to bring the glamour of London to the country and provide a country retreat for people in the city who didn’t want the responsibility of a second home. It would be the first business I’d ever started. The first one that I’d built myself.

  It was small but personal, and hopefully wouldn’t be too distracting from my day job. I needed this to prove to myself I could build something. The scale wasn’t important. And Manor House Club had been percolating in my mind for ten years. I’d seen how wealth and opportunity was concentrated in London—that’s where people who could provide opportunities and had wealth spent their time. My idea was to attract these people outside of London in the hopes that their wealth would seep into the community. That they would find and provide opportunity outside the city.

  “What has Manor House Club got to do with me kissing you?” I asked.

  “Well, presumably you were hoping to make sure I didn’t object to the planning. Otherwise, why wouldn’t you tell me? Especially when I was talking about how passionate I was about Woolton.”

  “Did it work?” I asked. I was being deliberately provocative, but this woman? She was equal parts beautiful and crazy.

  She just glared at me.

  “Look, I didn’t realize I had to give you a rundown of my five-year plan in order to kiss you.”

  “You’re an arsehole.”

  “Darcy, kissing you had nothing to do with these plans. Running into you was a complete accident.”