Gayle Callen - [Brides of Redemption 02]

by Surrender to the Earl

  Robert hoped his request for Mrs. Blake to play hadn’t further distanced her from her family. It was simply that he’d been annoyed at seeing her relegated to a corner alone, like a dotty old lady.

  If she had wanted to show him her family situation, it was working. In less than twenty-four hours, he was already defensive on her behalf.

  And he was also full of regret that he’d brought up the subject of his brother, Neil. They were only two years apart, and they should have been close, but their father had been a firm believer in raising up his sons to be competitive. Their tutor had taken that one step further and set them against one another to “spark their competitiveness.” All it did was ruin their relationship, and made Robert retreat into his books. When Neil had died, Robert became the focus of their father’s fanatic need to control everything around him. And so he had to follow him around day after day whenever he was home for holidays, learning the man’s obsessive methods for controlling his estates, watching other men cower to his father’s bullying. Only one man could not be cowed, and that was a retired military officer who lived in their village. Robert would often seek him out to hear his adventures—which was probably why he bought a commission himself, when he felt himself turning into his father.

  Robert was glad when they arrived at the pond and the beaters had begun their work. Birds took flight, and he aimed and shot. Some men had a servant reload one gun while they shot another, but Robert reloaded quickly by himself. Birds plummeted from the sky, and dogs brought them back without taking a single bite.

  Several hours later, as they walked back toward the manor carrying bags of birds for the evening meal, Robert happened to glance down another path, and to his surprise, he saw Mrs. Blake walking with a plainly garbed woman. The sainted lady’s maid?

  Since he was already at the back of the small group of men, he simply turned down the path toward Mrs. Blake. She was far enough away that he had time to watch her move, still without the aid of a cane. She kept her head high, as if smelling crisp air redolent with recently picked apples and hearth fires.

  “I’m quite sorry my sister distracted you, Knightsbridge.”

  Robert turned his head to find Edwin Collins catching up with him. “Not a bit. I thought I’d say good morning.”

  “It was foolish for her to be out when we’re shooting,” Collins said, his breath huffing. “She could have been hurt.”

  Robert almost pointed out that she wasn’t anywhere near the pond, but he let Collins pull ahead of him and draw Mrs. Blake aside. The man spoke intently for several minutes, while Mrs. Blake’s expression remained impassive. The other woman, red-faced, looked off as if she wasn’t listening.

  At last Collins strode back toward his friends, pausing to give Robert a look. Obviously realizing he had no say in what Robert did, he only gave an impatient nod and strode away.

  The servant said something to Mrs. Blake, and her head came up quickly as he approached.

  “Forgive me, Lord Knightsbridge,” she said coolly. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “I heard nothing, Mrs. Blake. It simply looked like a brother and sister conversing.” But he knew he’d seen a warning. Apparently only Miss Collins was allowed to consort with their guests.

  She gave a grim smile. “That is kind of you.” Her expression eased and she turned her head slightly toward her servant. “This is my lady’s maid, Molly. Molly, the Earl of Knightsbridge.”

  It wasn’t often a woman introduced a peer to her servant; he admired that about her.

  Molly sank into a deep curtsy and her blush emphasized her freckles. “Good morning, milord.”

  He smiled at her. “The two of you make quite a sight on an early morning.”

  Molly bit her lip, even as Mrs. Blake asked dryly, “You mean like Punch and Judy?”

  He laughed. “Not at all. It is inspiring to see you out and about, without even a cane. I hope my admiration isn’t offensive.”

  “It is not, my lord,” she said at last, a faint smile curving her lips.

  “May I walk with you?”

  “You may.”

  He took her arm and placed it on his, and she seemed surprised.

  “I know you can walk unassisted, but there is something about an autumn morn with a lovely woman on your arm that a man can’t resist.”

  “You are a charmer, my lord,” she said, shaking her head.

  Molly fell behind them as they began to walk toward the garden, giving them enough room to speak privately.

  “You don’t need to treat me like this,” Mrs. Blake said at last.

  He glanced down at her in surprise. “Like what?”

  “Like you’re flirting with me. We both know you’re playing a part.”

  “I am so glad you see through to what you think I’m doing.”

  She gave a soft laugh.

  “This isn’t a part I’m playing, Mrs. Blake,” he said, his voice a bit more serious. “I wanted to get to know you and your family. I’m doing so, am I not?”

  “You are,” she admitted with obvious reluctance.

  “Do I make you uncomfortable—or cause you problems with your family?” he added, more to the point.

  “I am not uncomfortable—simply unused to being brought to people’s attention. There are some benefits to being invisible.”

  “Invisible,” he mused, keeping his voice light although he felt a stir of anger on her behalf. “I often wished to be so when I served in the army. It makes one not a target.”

  “Exactly. And now you’re home, taking up the responsibilities of the earldom, and I imagine you’re far more visible than you’re used to.”

  “Perceptive, Mrs. Blake. Then we have something in common.” They strolled in silence for a moment as they entered one of the garden’s gravel paths. The last daisies were dying, and other shrubbery had already been cut back. “Mrs. Blake, I mean no offense, but your husband never once mentioned you were blind. And I can see now he must have thought you quite the normal woman, regardless of your—”

  “He was ashamed,” she interrupted, her voice matter-of-fact.

  Not surprised, Robert said nothing, only gave her gloved hand a squeeze where it rested on his arm.

  “You don’t need to show me sympathy, sir. I knew he did not love me. He only wanted my dowry.”

  And he suspected she was eager enough to be away that she wasn’t too choosy.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She tilted her head as if she were looking up at him. “I hope I am not disillusioning you about your friend.”

  “I left England at a young age, and he was several years my junior. We only became more acquainted in the Eighth Dragoons.”

  “And that was only possible because of my dowry. It is how he purchased his commission. I didn’t know his plans until he left England the day after our wedding.”

  Robert frowned. “That is a tragedy. I regret you had to suffer it.”

  “I would not normally confide such private sorrow in a stranger, my lord, but you need to understand my dilemma.”

  “I am understanding more and more each hour.”

  “Good. Then I will ask you not to repeat my past marital difficulties.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Even with my family. My father warned me about Mr. Blake’s intentions from the beginning, and I didn’t want to listen. Reminding him of it only makes him repeat his warnings all over again.”

  “About men in general?”

  “About my suitability to marry. And though my father doesn’t believe me, I have taken my hard-earned lessons to heart. I don’t plan to marry again, ever.”

  She spoke so firmly, flatly, that he knew she believed it. And Robert couldn’t blame her. It must be difficult to make oneself vulnerable, and then be so cruelly rejected.

  “We all must react to our own lessons, Mrs. Blake,” he finally said.

  “Even an earl? I imagine that you’re permitted—anything.”

  She
sounded a bit intrigued, but he wasn’t going to satisfy her curiosity.

  “Even an earl.”

  They walked on in silence, taking the winding trails ever closer to the house, passing a fountain that sprayed a cold mist in the air.

  “My lord, do you still have dead birds on your person?”

  He shot her a glance. “I had forgotten.”

  “I had, too, until I smelled them.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll guide you up to the house, and then head for the kitchens.”

  “Do not bother yourself on my behalf, my lord. I’ll finish my walk with Molly, and see you at luncheon.”

  Robert watched in amazement as she turned back the way they’d just come and approached Molly. The servant murmured something, and they both took a right hand turn down another path that disappeared behind a vine-covered arbor.

  Robert stood still, considering his dilemma. There was no doubt that he had to help Mrs. Blake, but after the close way her family watched her, he was beginning to think her suggestion that he simply escort her away wasn’t going to work.

  After luncheon, Robert accompanied the rest of the gentlemen for target shooting out on the lawn, which he won. Dinner ended up being a more elaborate affair, with neighbors as guests, followed by card games in the drawing room. He rather suspected he was being put on display by Miss Collins, who’d thrown the event together and sent footmen scurrying all over the countryside with invitations that morning. Robert was no longer surprised when only a few of the guests knew Mrs. Blake personally, although most had heard of her.

  Since card games could not appeal to Mrs. Blake, she sat in a corner with an elderly woman, who kept up so much chatter that every time Robert looked their way, Mrs. Blake, though nodding politely, was never given the chance to speak.

  Robert didn’t need any more convincing. It was time to talk to Lord Collins. Would the baron allow him to simply whisk away his daughter? No. But Robert had another idea . . .

  When the last guest from the village had gone, Miss Collins retired and Mr. Collins led his friends upstairs. Robert stopped their father in the entrance hall.

  “Lord Collins, might we speak privately?” he asked.

  Mrs. Blake was just entering the hall from the back corridor. Her eyes narrowed as he spoke. There was no way to send her a reassuring smile. Realizing he was staring a bit too long, he turned and found Lord Collins frowning at him.

  “We can speak in my study,” Collins said, leading him across the hall to another door.

  His study was lined with books and deep leather chairs, and the occasional masculine knickknacks of rocks, animal skulls, and a mounted deer. Collins indicated a chair for Robert, then went around and sat behind the desk, as if he needed a barrier against whatever Robert had to say.

  But his expression was neutral enough as he asked, “Is something amiss, Knightsbridge?”

  Robert was so used to making a decision and then the necessary physical preparations, it had never occurred to him to prepare a speech. He would definitely need to brush up on that before Parliament opened after Christmas.

  “Collins, I came here with the intention of offering my sympathy to your daughter. I had heard a bit about her from Blake—”

  “You can’t trust a word that scoundrel ever said,” Collins said, frowning. “He abandoned my daughter.”

  “He did, though I didn’t know it. He spoke of her letters as giving him comfort, and in some ways, I think he was surprised by that.”

  The other man said nothing, only steepled his fingers together beneath his chin.

  “I’ve spent two days in Mrs. Blake’s company, and I’ve seen her courage, wit, and intelligence. I cannot express enough my admiration.”

  “What are you saying?” Collins demanded.

  “I wanted to inform you that I will be asking for Mrs. Blake’s hand in marriage tomorrow.”

  To his surprise, Collins began to chuckle, but it slowly died away as Robert didn’t smile in return.

  “You are serious,” Collins said in a flat voice.

  “I am.”

  “You have an earldom to lure any young woman. You’ve only just returned to England. And you want to choose the first woman you’ve spent time with—a blind woman?”

  “I returned two weeks ago,” Robert amended. “I met several debutantes in London, but most are in the country, I know. Your daughter is the first woman to fascinate me, and frankly, after nine years in the army, I’ve learned to trust my instincts.”

  “Her dowry went to Blake,” Collins said smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. “But Blythe has a fine dowry.”

  Robert ignored the mention of the other daughter. “Mrs. Blake told me how her husband took her money and betrayed her. I would never do that. I’ve resigned my commission. I have no need of her dowry. Surely you know that the Knightsbridge estates have been well cared for. But, sir, it is your daughter’s kindness and patience I value, not money. Her acceptance of her limitations, and the courage she shows every single day. The London debutantes want me for all the wrong reasons, my title and wealth. A mature woman like Mrs. Blake would best understand the moods of an ex-soldier.”

  Collins never took his eyes off Robert. At last he said, “I can’t allow this.”

  Robert arched a brow. “She is an adult, sir, a widow. You have no say.”

  “She is an invalid. Any court will agree she’s not capable of making her own decisions.”

  “She would testify on her own behalf and talk circles around any lawyer. You know that. And what will I be doing? I will be explaining to everyone in London about your resistance, and the way you treat her as your servant rather than your daughter.”

  Collins slammed his hands onto the desk, scattering papers. “I will not listen to such words in my own home!”

  “You won’t listen to the truth, you mean? I saw the local gentry tonight—most of them had heard of Mrs. Blake, but never met her. What kind of father keeps his daughter out of sight, simply because she’s blind? Is it catching? We both know it is not. Is there a stigma attached? She has been convenient for you to take advantage of, but that is over now. You have another daughter. I suggest she learn to manage a household, so that she is not a disappointment to her future husband.”

  Collins jumped to his feet, and Robert followed, unstretching leisurely, until he was a head taller than the other man. Collins looked up, hesitated, then pressed his lips together in a narrow line.

  “Have you already compromised my daughter?” he demanded. “Is that what this is all about?”

  “I have not, sir. I have done all that is proper. But even I did not expect to feel such a connection after only two days. Now on to the practical matters. My country seat is only a few miles away from the house she inherited from Blake, which is why we were in the same regiment. The Eighth Dragoons are a tradition in our parish. I will escort her and her lady’s maid there, so that we can live in proximity while the wedding is planned.”

  “That damned house—how did you learn of it?”

  “She told me, of course. We are able to speak freely with one another. I had not imagined a woman could understand me so well.”

  Robert realized that for the first time in a long while, he was using the weight of the earldom to have his way, and there was satisfaction in that—too much like the old, immature days of his youth. But he wouldn’t go back to being that spoiled young man who didn’t know how to treat people with respect. This supposed marriage was for Mrs. Blake’s benefit, not his own, he reminded himself.

  “Do we understand each other, Collins?” Robert asked. “I wish to have a cordial relationship with you, but not if you can’t respect your daughter.”

  Collins shook his head. “I have no choice, do I? But Knightsbridge, you are too full of yourself. She will refuse your proposal. She’s been badly hurt before, and that was by a man who took the time to court her. You? She’s too levelheaded to risk her future on a stranger.”

  “Then that
will be her choice,” Robert agreed amiably. He bowed to the baron and opened the door.

  A footman waited with several candleholders, offering one for Robert’s use.

  “Not just yet,” Robert said. “Please ask Mrs. Blake if she would speak with me. I’ll be waiting in the parlor.” He didn’t want her father getting to her first.

  Chapter 5

  Audrey hadn’t let Molly help her undress for bed. When she’d heard Lord Knightsbridge ask to speak to her father, her stomach immediately clenched and had been fluttering ever since. What was the earl saying? He hadn’t even answered her request for help yet.

  And then came a soft rap on the door, and she flung it wide.

  “It is Richard, Mrs. Blake,” said the well-trained footman. “Lord Knightsbridge requests your presence in the parlor.”

  “Now?” she asked in disbelief.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Very well, I’ll be down in a moment.”

  When she shut the door, she could hear Molly’s rushed footsteps, felt the maid clasp her arm.

  “Miss Audrey, what is this about?”

  “I’m not sure.” And that wasn’t quite a lie. Audrey hated to mislead her dearest friend, but her request of the earl was too important to speak of.

  No candles were necessary for her as she moved through the manor in the dark of night—although more than once in the past, she’d startled a sighted person. She hurried down the stairs, crossed the entrance hall, and entered the parlor.

  “Lord Knightsbridge?” she called.

  “I am here, Mrs. Blake. Please close the door behind you.”

  That was nothing an unmarried woman normally heard from a man. Forcing down a shiver of nerves, she did as he asked.

  “I’m seated on the sofa, Mrs. Blake. Come join me.”

  She moved forward cautiously, in case furniture had been moved as the servants cleaned. But they had all been well trained, and everything was where it should be. Lord Knightsbridge took her arm and guided her to a place beside him. It felt strange to sit so close when they were all alone. It had been almost three years since a man had showed any interest in her at all. She’d begged this one to help her—why could she not just hear his decision without feeling anxious?