Earl of Carlyle (The Rogue Gentlemen Series Book 2)

by Angela Conrad

  “Then I will press myself into service,” Carlyle smiled, “if only to see Bristol squash his lips closed, Darlington’s back go up, and Lady Whistle snort with pleasure.”

  Why Indeed

  III

  “Sara, what did you think of them?” Audrey asked as she helped button her sister’s silk peach gown.

  Sara turned her head making sure Lady Whistle had left to dress for the evening after instructing them on proper etiquette, showing them the best way to arrange a fillet around their heads, and decrying that their gowns had no flounce but promising that her lady’s maid might add one if they wanted.

  When the newly hired lady’s maid left them alone as requested, Sara whispered. “I think both of them very young. Immature, perhaps is the better word. They seemed very shaken as if they’d expected us to have straw sticking out of our braids and mud on our hem. Both handsome, perfectly dressed, and cheerful when they saw us. I suppose that’s something. They clearly smiled a great deal.”

  “Yes, they all five seemed surprised that we were attractive young women,” Audrey giggled. “Their faces! As if they thought two old trolls were going to descend those steps.”

  “I imagine being forced into marriage when not really wanting it is a great tragedy for a gentleman of the ton. And they appear dashing enough, and we know they have a colorful past from all the hints uncle shared. Looking at Lord Darlington and Lord Bristol I cannot see a future with either…but I suppose there is one hidden there. We shall make the best of it, Audrey. We have to be successful you know. If we do not make connections with those two lords, and something happens to uncle, we would be adrift in dangerous seas,” Sara said seriously. “We would lose Summer Garden.”

  “I thought the earl and marquis very handsome,” Audrey confessed. “The Earl of Carlyle is too grand for me I know. Way over anything an orphaned daughter of a viscount could dream of having…and you are right sister, we must choose the two younger lords and hope that they will have us as uncle intended.”

  “Do you favor one over the other?” Sara asked.

  “Let me see, Lord Darlington I think for he’s got dark hair and eyes. I know you favor blonde gentlemen. Lord Bristol has curly blonde hair, a little taller…I will know more when we spent time with them. I would like the best horseman, someone I can ride with, race. Yes, I shall favor the finest rider,” Audrey said calmly as if choosing between a red or blue ribbon.

  “And I shall have the older of the two,” Sara smiled straightening her simple silk gown. “Now we must hurry down, we have kept them waiting long enough.”

  **********

  As the sisters descended the impressive stairs, the masculine voices at the other end of the hall quieted as if the whisper of silk slippers on the wooden floor had lulled them all into silence.

  Dressed simply in day dresses of soft peach and pink, the two Winston sisters’ pale blonde hair artlessly arranged softly about their heads by Lady Whistle herself, female voices stopped at the salon door entry and four anxious gentlemen stood to greet them.

  Lord Darlington was the first to speak after the exchanged greetings by saying, “Miss Audrey Winston, would you care to join me? I have a particular piece of poetry I’ve been writing and I would enjoy discussing one particular phrase.”

  “I can’t wait to hear it,” Carlyle muttered to his father causing him to grin.

  Audrey joined Lord Darlington passing very close to the earl and smiling up at him as if they both shared some special secret. Carlyle for the life of him could not understand why but he felt an immediate connection to her. He smiled back and inhaled the fragrance of lilacs.

  As Darlington read his original work, Audrey looked up into his dark eyes, a very sable brown, and studied every feature of his face. The straight nose, the generous lips, the early wrinkles around his eyes, the texture of his unruly hair as it fell carelessly over his brow, and she sighed. Was this the face she was to look upon for the rest of her life? Could she marry this stranger and be content? Audrey noticed the timbre of his voice, the way he moved his hand with his words as if painting a poem, and she grinned.

  When Lord Darlington finished, with

  And fare thee weel, my only Luve,

  And fare thee weel awhile!

  And I will come again, my Luve,

  Tho' it ware ten thousand mile.

  The Earl of Carlyle moved closer, grunted, and said, “That’s Robert Burns.”

  Darlington blushed and Audrey raised her delicate pale brow and said, “Yes, A Red, Red Rose. But still, so nicely read, Lord Darlington. With such a pleasing rhythm and expression to your voice. I enjoyed it very much.”

  Carlyle couldn’t help but notice how Darlington’s puffed up arrogance softened at her kind words. And as he nodded down at Audrey, a light seemed to enter his dark eyes.

  “You are all sweetness, Miss Winston,” Darlington said as if he’d never witnessed sweetness before in his lifetime.

  She reached out, patted the sleeve of his expensive frock coat, and gave him her most pacifying smile though Audrey responded unconsciously and naturally as if soothing a newly born foal. “Lord Darlington, I do appreciate a man who reads poetry, and your selection was just the thing. You and I have something in common already and I’ve barely walked through the doorway. How much we shall learn about each other in a fortnight.”

  Darlington grinned. The change of expression seemed to catch at Audrey and she grinned back. Carlyle felt as far from grinning as a parson looking at empty pews.

  “I wonder what else you two might have in common for I’ll wager that Miss Winston has never raced a phaeton in the park at midnight,” Carlyle said drily. His remark caused an unexpected reaction. Audrey surprised both gentlemen by laughing merrily and clapping her hands.

  “Lord Darlington, do you enjoy racing?” Audrey asked with a wink.

  “I confess, I do adore it,” Darlington replied marveling at her excited expression.

  Before the earl could stick another cold tong into a budding fire, the couple began an exchange of stories. Audrey spoke about her jumping course, the distance of the stream, the height of the hedge, and the way the stableman placed the logs. Darlington smiled broadly and described his racing vehicles, his high sporting phaeton, how it sat two, and could be pulled by two or four horses. When the subject of horseflesh entered this fast exchange, Carlyle stood silently amazed at the young lady’s knowledge of thoroughbred’s temperaments, her horse Star, a gift from her uncle, and all manner of details about training. The words, canter, trot to a full gallop, the right tension on the girth, and how to properly snap a riding crop without ever touching the animal’s flesh rang in the gentlemen’s ears like the laughter of angels.

  The more Darlington grinned the sterner the Earl of Carlyle appeared until Audrey smiled up at him and noticed his expression.

  “Lord Carlyle, don’t you enjoy racing?”

  Darlington howled like a young wolf and replied, “The earl here knows his sport though I haven’t seen him ride in a race. Carlyle is more the type of gentleman to sit in the stands with his cronies and smoke a cheroot while watching others risk their necks.”

  Never before, had the earl wanted to forcefully grab a throat and choke the words back inside a gullet than now. “I have raced on many occasion, I just don’t do it in Hyde Park with two tarts squeezed up on the perch beside me as you do.”

  Audrey gasped.

  Darlington frowned.

  And Carlyle wondered why in the hell he said that with such a biting tongue.

  Audrey blushed. If there was one thing she feared, it was marrying a man who flaunted his other women about town and embarrassed her in public. Audrey had a healthy measure of pride. Always adored and admired, she didn’t think she could be shamed and not feel it sorely.

  Audrey glanced over at her sister to see how she faired as Darlington said, “I have no right to ask, but I hope you will forget that last remark. I am now after meeting you, a changed man. I hope to
prove it to you soon.”

  Instead of calming the distressed look in Audrey’s large gray eyes, his words changed her bright eyes into storm clouds coming off a wild sea.

  I have no right to ask.

  I hope to prove it to you soon.

  A changed man.

  Unknowingly, Lord Darlington had uttered three of the rogue’s false phrases setting off alarm bells in Audrey’s head. She looked up at Lord Carlyle with a softened expression as if thanking him for injecting this warning into Darlington’s character.

  Lady Whistle was staring at their expressions as if trying to understand the Latin words above a church doorway. She noticed the happy smiles of Audrey turn to frowns and she worried that Lord Darlington must have stepped into some terrible puddle of improper speech. Fearing her relative might ruin the plans of the great marquis, she crossed her full arms over her chest and shook her head at Darlington as if in a warning. He ignored her, his annoyance aimed at Carlyle.

  As her sister, Sara smiled over at her, Audrey bowed slightly and walked away leaving the two gentlemen to view the seductive sway of her hips.

  “Hell’s fire, Carlyle, I thought I was here to marry one of these ladies. Why would you mention my tarts?” Darlington complained.

  “Why indeed,” Carlyle muttered, straightening his shirt cuffs, “why indeed.”

  Wading In

  IV

  Sara Rose Winston had a secret.

  She had no plans ever to marry. Though Sara had gladly joined in with their uncle’s plans of finding them both husbands, she had only pretended to agree to accept a husband for herself. Sara knew that Audrey would only try for a husband if she did too and so Sara was here playing the hand her uncle dealt her knowing she would fold that hand and never give her independence away to a gentleman.

  Sara liked to lead.

  She had a sharp mind with management and numbers, a talent for shaping people to her will, and a spirit that craved the reins to steer her own life.

  When she did glance up at Lord Bristol all she saw was a spoiled gentleman with little character. If she was bound to him for a lifetime, she knew she would go quite mad for already he was rubbing her nerves raw with his too-loud voice, his preening quick looks into an oversized mirror on the far wall, and his monopoly of the conversation as if his words were the only sounds to hold any weight.

  No, she would never have Lord Bristol if he owned half the world and controlled everyone in it.

  What Sara didn’t see was the Marquis of Sandshire’s fast grin. If she had, she would have caught the intelligent sparkle in his eyes, the admiration in his glance when he looked at her.

  Since entering the grand burgundy back salon, Sara had hardly been listening to Lord Bristol’s remarks or noticing the sharp blue eyes of the marquis resting on her. Sara had been watching her sister, Audrey. Her sister had been her world since the death of their parents and as the older sister; Sara functioned as protector, tutor, mother, and guardian of hearts. Sara was so busy trying to gauge Audrey’s expressions that when her sister suddenly joined her she jumped.

  “Audrey, you must hear all about Lord Bristol’s thoughts on cards,” Sara said with a quick wink to her sister. The Winston ladies played all manner of card games and knew their skill was highly admired back in the small village of Briar Way. “He mentions the robust and exciting play at his clubs in London, White’s, Brook’s and then oh yes, The Cocoa Tree and Almack’s.”

  “Oh, do you play whist? I do so enjoy taking tricks, perhaps poker, or even old-fashioned poque?” Audrey asked fluttering her eyelashes faster as Lord Darlington and the earl joined their group. “Do you bet against the House or each other?”

  “Watch out if you play whist with Audrey, she has extensive knowledge of all the technical jargon, she will lead you into confusion as she takes your last pound,” Sara said grinning at her sister’s quick blush.

  “Watch out for me?” Audrey laughed, glancing at each gentleman, she whispered, so that all of their heads leaned closer, “Beware, Sara’s level of concentration at remembering all the cards played is frightening.”

  “A woman tracking cards played? How preposterous,” Darlington laughed. “Can you imagine a lady remembering anything more than which drawer her ribbons are kept?”

  Both Winston sister’s heads turned so quickly that their necks seemed to swivel like a wheel on a sailing ship in dark waters.

  Missing the pool of quicksand in front of him, Lord Bristol replied, “Yes, what a fine whit you both have to try and spin such a tale.”

  Carlyle laughed under his breath at the lady’s expressions before saying, “Don’t sell their skills short until you are tested against them.”

  Both ladies shot him a grateful smile and the marquis said, “Carlyle and I remember a very talented lady at cards. She could fleece us both and did so on many occasions.”

  “Ridiculous!” Bristol guffawed.

  “How droll,” Darlington chuckled. “You all suppose you can pull the wool over our eyes as if we aren’t experienced, gaming gentlemen.”

  Sara, seeing Audrey’s pale gray eyes glaze over with annoyance answered, “Ah, and how clever of you two gentlemen to catch us telling tales. It’s a good thing we are not planning evenings of whist for poor Audrey and I would look quite foolish now trying to keep up to your level of play.”

  “Yes, thank our lucky stars, Sara that we didn’t carry it further and suggest playing for money. We might empty our purses in just a few hands,” Audrey said glancing up and smiling when she saw the expression on Carlyle’s handsome face.

  “Then tomorrow evening I suggest we all play,” the marquis said very straight-faced. “We will start out slow and simple with very small bets until the ladies feel comfortable.”

  Lady Whistle came out of her trance and clapped her hands, “How amusing.”

  “Capital idea,” Bristol agreed.

  “Most thoughtful,” Darlington said.

  “Charitable, father,” the earl said putting his hand over his lips. “You are all kindness.”

  For the first time, Sara really looked at the features of their host. His almost black hair, the intelligent sapphire blue eyes, his tall and imposing frame, and she seemed to have trouble breathing. Stepping back from him slightly she said, “Marquis, you tease us I think. Nevertheless, Audrey and I will accept your kind invitation and we hope you will show us mercy.”

  “As much as you deserve,” Sandshire said enjoying the blush on Sara’s pale cheeks.

  Conversation peaked and lessened like a merrily flowing creek working its way downhill. The marquis and his son stood back and watched the Winston sisters as they shot satire and sarcasm high over the young lord’s heads like arrows from their intelligent quiver. Their mockery was never cruel but subtle as the brush of a feature over a long throat. Pale gray eyes flashed amusement then winked often as the siblings asked much and gave away nothing.

  “And finding that particular shade of canary yellow for your phaeton, how clever of you to hire just the right carriage man,” Sara gushed hiding a yawl, “You could speak of it for days and still there would be more to learn about it.”

  “Exactly so,” Lord Bristol beamed. “Most ladies of my acquaintance would not appreciate the difficulty of searching through all those pigments.”

  “Then their loss, for if Claude Monet himself was standing here in person he could not explain it better,” Audrey said with a kind smile.

  “Who is that?” Lord Darlington asked rubbing the new bristles on his chin.

  “A local man no doubt. Darlington, you wouldn’t know the man if he painted the entire downstairs of Riverside,” Bristol laughed.

  Sara and Audrey both held their lips tightly and nodded.

  “I might know him,” Darlington flushed. “Is he a large man with carrot red hair?”

  “Why you’re just guessing and how are the kind ladies to answer but to agree with you,” Bristol replied.

  “They might disagree,” Da
rlington argued. “I would not hold that against them.”

  “How thoughtfulness flows like hot chocolate down the side of a blancmange a la vanilla,” Audrey said sweetly and the Earl of Carlyle let out a shout of laughter quickly hidden by a cough.

  “Speaking of desserts,” the marquis said on receiving a nod from his butler, “Our late dinner is served. Might I escort the ladies into the golden dining room?”

  “Let me!” Bristol said loudly.

  “I insist that I might be the lucky gentleman,” Darlington said louder.

  “Or perhaps we might be capable of walking from this room to another on our own,” Sara said a little too sharply.

  “Silly sister,” Audrey said quickly taking Sara’s arm, “You know I want to do it.”

  Both girls burst into merry laughter and all seven of them walked into the magnificent dining room in a little loose group like ducks walking into a pond.

  Lady Whistle took Sandshire’s arm and whispered up at him, “I believe they are all getting along swimmingly. The Winston sisters are delightful if a little too outspoken and I must say Bristol and Darlington are trying their best to appear intriguing.”

  “Are they indeed?” The marquis said sternly. “I see nothing but self-aggrandizing, outright bragging, and dull recitals of their affairs in Town. Both of the gentlemen have no talent for conversation. The Winston ladies do have a natural gift for both appeasing and enjoying them. Sara especially is quite the diplomate when she wants to be.”

  “I admire the spunk in young Audrey,” Lady Whistle confessed. “She reminds me of myself at her age.”

  Sandshire patted her hand, “I am sure you were the very replica. I wonder what my son is thinking.”

  The marquis looked back at his son and grinned and Carlyle silently mouthed, “I’m in love with both of them.”

  **********