The Beastly Earl

by Monica Burns

  "I will say this only once. You are never to enter the passageways again. Is that understood?" Ewan waited for their nods of acquiescence before he moved to his desk to put his affairs in order. Not bothering to look in their direction, he waved his hand at them. “I suggest the three of you go to your rooms and clean your appearance before Lou—Mrs. Morehouse sees you or there will be hell to pay for your adventures.”

  Ewan sat down at his desk and heard the soft breath of relief someone expelled. In the next instant, shoes slid across the floor as the boys raced from the room. He reached for a pen as they left, when a quiet sound whispered through the air on his blind side. With a jerk, he turned his head to see Wills staring at him with silent curiosity.

  “Yes, Wills?”

  “May I ask a question, my lord?” Ewan hesitated for a moment, before swiveling in his chair to face the boy.

  "What do you wish to ask me."

  “I heard my Uncle Sebastian say you served with the Black Watch.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that how you lost your arm?” The boy’s blunt question took Ewan aback for a moment before he smiled slightly. Where Charlie had his mother’s courage to stand up to someone, Wills had her blunt manner.

  “Yes. I lost it at the Battle of Omdurman in the Sudan.”

  “May I see it, my lord?”

  Ewan jerked at the question as the boy met his gaze steadily. Uncertain as to why he was even considering to agree to the boy’s request, he studied the black glove covering the metal, skeleton fingers. Ever since Louisa had acquired the habit of storming his study, he’d worn the glove simply to avoid her pity. Last night had reinforced how indifferent she was to his lack of a limb.

  Ewan's heart twisted violently in his chest at the memory of the pleasure and peace he'd found in her arms. He studied the child for a long moment. Wills and his avid curiosity would be gone from Argaty Keep by tomorrow. There was little harm in giving way to the child's inquisitive nature. With a decisive nod, Ewan slowly pulled the glove off his artificial hand. Wills stepped forward and peered closely at the metal fingers.

  “How do they work?”

  Enthralled, the boy reached out and gently touched Ewan's steel hand. Like his mother, the lad accepted Ewan's amputation as something perfectly natural. Knowing it was unlikely he would ever see the child again, he decided to satisfy the boy’s curiosity.

  Ewan slipped his good arm out of his jacket then slowly pulled his artificial limb free as well. Wills took the coat in a solicitous manner, and laid it on the chair close to the desk as Ewan removed his shirt as well so his artificial arm was fully exposed.

  Wills laid the shirt with the jacket then hurried back to examine the fully exposed infernal device attached to the stub of what remained of Ewan's arm. The boy's look of fascination reflected a curiosity and studious contemplation that surprised him. There was a thoroughness about Wills's examination of the artificial limb that encouraged Ewan `to indulge the child's inquisitive nature. With a small movement of his shoulder muscle, Ewan made the metal fingers close. A gasp of excitement escaped the child.

  “How did you do that?”

  “When I flex my shoulder muscle, it makes the fingers move.”

  “Where? Here?” Wills quickly circled Evan’s chair and moved out of visual range. A small finger pressed into his shoulder, and Ewan jumped slightly. “I’m terribly sorry, my lord.”

  “No apology. I was surprised nothing more.” Ewan shook his head as he turned his head to look at the boy. The rapt amazement on the boy's face made him smile slightly. “Watch.”

  Ewan flexed a different muscle in his shoulder and made the fingers relaxed. Wills made another sound of delighted astonishment. A second later, the boy’s small hand lightly traced the narrow leather strap down to where it connected with another strap designed to control the fingers.

  “I want to be a doctor,” Wills said quietly as he studied the artificial limb raptly. “Charlie wants to be a scientist, but Mama says he can’t. He has respon…respon—”

  “Responsibilities?”

  “Yes, that’s it. Responsibilities,” Wills said with a bob of his head as he continued to examine Ewan's artificial arm. “Mama says now that Papa is gone, Charlie can’t be a scientist because he has responsibilities as Viscount Westbrook.”

  For a moment, Ewan wasn’t sure he’d heard the child correctly. Stunned, he froze in his chair and stared down at the top of the boy’s head. As Wills continued his intense study of the prosthesis, Ewan took in the information Louisa's son had innocently revealed.

  Louisa was a viscountess, not a poor widow in desperate need of a position. Why the devil had she lied to him? He frowned slightly as he was forced to admit that she'd not lied to him outright, but she'd not clarified her status as a noblewoman. Anger whipped through him with lightning speed at the thought.

  Twice in one day he'd learned of a woman's deceit. Jaw clenched, he deliberately flexed his shoulder muscle to keep the child enthralled while he sought to learn more about Louisa, her social standing, and her family.

  “And your Uncle Sebastian, is he a viscount too?”

  “Oh no, he’s the Earl of Melton. But he's not reckless like the rest of my aunts and uncle Percy. It's why they're called the Reckless Rockwoods.” Still examining the artificial apparatus, Wills didn’t look up at him as he continued to share more about his family. “Everyone says Mama is the most reckless, but I don't think that's true. Mama says Aunt Constance is worse. Great-aunt Matilda isn’t a Rockwood though. She’s a Stewart. She lives at Callendar Abbey. Mama was on her way there when her wagon wheel broke.”

  Now stiff with outrage, Ewan gritted his teeth as he allowed the boy to continue examining the metal and leather device that loosely served as his arm and hand. A knock on the door made him turn his head as he ordered the visitor to enter. The instant Louisa stepped into his study, a bolt of lightning zigzagged through him at the sight of her.

  Wills's preoccupation with the metal device enabled Ewan to focus his attention on Louisa. Her mouth had formed the shape of an ‘O’ as her gaze locked with his before it dropped downward to his bare chest. A look of desire crossed her face as she lifted her gaze to look at him again.

  The moment their eyes met, she blushed slightly and her mouth curved in a warm smile. It disarmed him completely as his anger was pushed aside, and he allowed himself to bask in her smile if only for a few more precious moments before he did what needed to be done. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was or how much happiness she'd brought into his life and heart.

  What would she say if he told her about this morning's events? The answer immediately followed the question. She would be a lioness ready to do battle on his behalf. Although she'd never said it, he knew she cared little for the dowager countess. The thought made him long to go to her and seek solace in her arms.

  A split-second later, the anger he'd pushed aside broke free of its restraints. Under different circumstances he knew his anger would have been short live. He had a strong suspicion as to why she'd deceived him, but he needed to cast that aside and use her deception as the means to send her away. It meant he needed to use every bit of his rage from this morning's revelations to bolster his anger for the battle to come.

  Tension hardened his muscles, and in subconscious movement of his shoulder, he made his metal hand flex again. Wills uttered a sound of delight at the movement, completely oblivious to the fact his mother was in the room. The sound made Louisa jerk her gaze to the boy, and annoyance crossed her lovely features.

  “William Wallace Morehouse. You were given specific instructions not to ask his lordship any more questions about his arm.” A glance at the boy revealed Wills had come to a rigid posture of attention.

  “The boy was honest in expressing curiosity," he said coldly and deliberately paused as he narrowed his gaze at Louisa. “Unlike others who are far more deceptive as to their real intentions, Lady Westbrook.”

  The moment he ad
dressed her by her title, Louisa jerked in surprise then grew pale as apprehension swept across her features.

  “I can explain—”

  “An explanation I would like to hear right now.” Ewan narrowed his gaze at her, and she bobbed her head quickly then looked at her son.

  “Wills, go to the schoolroom. I expect your lessons to be completed by dinner.”

  “But Mama—”

  “Go.” The curt command made the child wince, but he nodded with obedience, then hurried toward the exit.

  “Close the door behind you, Wills," Ewan said quietly. "I wish to have a private word with your mother.”

  At his instructions, Louisa jumped, but didn’t move as the door closed behind her son. For the first time since they’d met, there wasn’t an ounce of defiance on her face. Uncertainty was the only thing he saw.

  “I’m waiting, Lady Westbrook,” he grounded out between clenched teeth.

  “My brother said Ross needed me.”

  “Your brother.” A loud snort of condescending disbelief escaped him.

  "Yes, my brother," she snapped as her defiance returned. “Caleb died in the same fire as my husband. He’s visited me several times since I arrived at Argaty Keep. He’s the reason you found me that night on the moor. I was ready to give up and die, but he wouldn’t let me.”

  Ewan slowly rose from his chair and closed the distance between them. The apprehension he’d seen a minute ago was gone. In its place was the usual spirited rebelliousness he’d come to expect—even enjoy. That she'd managed to divert his attention from the matter at hand so easily added fuel to his anger.

  “What makes your brother think Ross needs you,” he sneered.

  She drew in a sharp breath as he stopped a foot away from her. Ewan glared down at her as he fought to ignore the sweet scent of roses mixed with orange blossom filling his nostrils.

  “It wasn’t just Caleb who said Ross needed me. The an dara sealladh showed me how unhappy he was.”

  “The lad was not your concern.”

  “The an dara sealladh and my brother made Ross my concern.” She leaned forward and returned his glare. “And if you’d take a moment to let that sink into your half-witted brain, you would agree that he’s blossomed since I’ve been here.”

  “That is not the point.” Ewan scowled at her unable to deny what she’d said. “You lied to me, Lady Westbrook."

  "I did not lie to you."

  "You presented yourself as a woman on the brink of destitution.”

  “And would you have agreed to employ me as Ross’s governess if you’d known otherwise?” Louisa’s hazel eyes flashed with anger as she silently dared him to disagree. Unable to deny the point, Ewan remained silent, and Louisa rolled her eyes in disgust. “I didn’t think so.”

  “That doesn't change the fact that you deceived me.”

  “Well, if you expect me to apologize for doing what I believed was the right thing to do, then you can wait until hell freezes over.” The defiant words made him grit his teeth.

  “What other lies have you told me, Louisa?”

  “Nothing.”

  Guilt flashed across her face before she tipped her chin up in a mutinous manner. The instant he narrowed his gaze at her, she averted her gaze and nibbled at her bottom lip until it grew dark from the abuse. It aroused the temptation to run his thumb across the plump spot to soothe it. Self-disgust snaked through him at the way she could so innocently distract and entice him without realizing she was doing so.

  “You're lying to me again, Louisa.”

  “I haven’t lied to you about anything.” She winced, and he expelled a harsh breath, and she looked away from him again. “At least not really.”

  “Not really? Then I shall rephrase the question. What is it you’ve kept from me?”

  Hesitation furrowed her brow, and he leaned forward in an attempt to intimidate her. The effort failed miserably as he drank in her sweet fragrance, while her full, rosy lips formed a mutinous pout that heightened his need to explore the heat of her mouth as he'd done last night.

  He swallowed hard as her rebellious expression softened and her hazel eyes became almost green in color. The desire he'd seen on her face moments ago returned. In seconds, his entire body was shouting with the need to pull her close and never let her go. God almighty, the woman was part witch, part sídhe.

  “Tell me, Louisa,” he snarled as he fought not to act on the primal urges twisting his muscles into knots until he was hard all over.

  “I know Ross isn't your son," she snapped.

  Ewan took a quick step backward to stare at her in stunned silence. Tension tightened his body even further as he froze stiff and rigid before her. She knew he wasn't Ross's father. He wasn't sure why he should be surprised. Deep inside, he'd always known she knew the truth simply because of the an dara sealladh. The powerful strength of her gift of sight was unlike anything he'd ever heard about or seen. It had been irrational to think she wouldn't discover the truth.

  Louisa's gaze didn't falter as her rebellious expression softened and became one of remorse. The regret and pain on her features emphasized how much it troubled her to have revealed she knew his secret. Intuitively, she'd understood his anger and humiliation at Agnes's betrayal. In a way, he was relieved she knew the truth. Every time she'd witnessed him berating the boy, his shame hadn't been simply at his own lack of fairness to the child. Last night had revealed how much Louisa's opinion of him mattered to him.

  "I only know he's not your son, Ewan, nothing more."

  Soft and gentle, Louisa's voice wove its spell over him as she took a step forward, and her sweet scent filled his nostrils. The moment her palms pressed into his chest, he was lost. His need to find solace in her arms, if only for a moment, made him shudder. In a swift movement, his good arm wrapped around her waist to pull her close. Without protest, she melted into him as he captured her mouth in a hard kiss. It was as if she'd always been a part of him.

  Heat barreled through him, as he tasted the fiery sweetness of her mouth. His entire body ached with the need to possess her utterly just as he had last night. A soft murmur vibrated out of her as she pressed her body deeper into his.

  Every inch of him cried out for her, and even with her held so tightly in his arms as she was now, he knew it would never be enough. He would always feel this need to hold her close, hear the sound of her voice, or simply see her walk into a room. The thought made him stiffen against her as he realized the hell he was about to descend into. It would make his existence unbearable for the rest of his life. God help him if the an dara sealladh showed her anything to use against him.

  Louisa gasped softly in surprise as he roughly pushed her away. The moment he did so, she reached out to touch him. With a jerk, Ewan retreated even further from her. The battle about to ensue would test him unlike anything he'd experienced in the Sudan. The more space between them the better. With stiff movements, he retrieved his shirt, and roughly pushed his artificial arm through one sleeve.

  "I have decided to send Ross away to school, so your services will no longer be required. You will pack your things and leave here tomorrow morning, my lady." Ewan's harsh words were followed by a wounded cry behind him. He ignored the way the sound lashed at his heart.

  "My—" She drew in a sharp breath before her anger became a whip lashing at his back. "You intend to punish Ross because I deceived you?"

  The outrage in Louisa's voice didn't surprise him, but it was the fear and pain running beneath her words that sliced into him like the sword that had taken his arm and eye. Ewan viciously shoved his good arm through his shirt sleeve, and fumbled with the buttons.

  "I'm not punishing Ross. I am leaving Argaty in a few days and will not be back for some time. The boy will be best served by going to school."

  "You're leaving—why?" she demanded. He knew better than to hope he could dodge Louisa's real question, but he needed to at least try.

  "Why? Because if there's one thing I've learne
d since your arrival, my lady, it's that the lad deserves better from me than he's received to date. Ross will do better at school than here in this cold, miserable place."

  "You know perfectly well that's not what I mean. Why are you leaving Argaty Keep? Is this about what happened between—"

  "Last night has nothing to do with my decision."

  "Please credit me with some intelligence, Ewan," she exclaimed with the fire and spirit that had endeared her to him from the beginning. "What other reason would you have for making such a hasty decision?"

  "Believe what you like, my lady, but last night did not factor into my decision," he said tersely.

  "And you call me a liar." The accusatory note in her voice made him stiffen as he slowly turned to face her. Her expression was filled with a passionate anger, as she scowled at him. "The least you could do is be honest with yourself, if not me."

  "Have care with your words, lass. Honesty is the last word you should use with me," he snarled as he began to lose his foothold on the slippery slope he stood on. The woman was far more intuitive than he liked.

  "Do not threaten me, Lord Argaty. I've battled my own demons for a long time, and if you think I don't recognize someone else struggling with theirs then you're mistaken."

  Ewan's muscles hardened with tension at how easily she could read him. Hands on her hips, her glare silently challenged him to deny her words. She easily stood her ground against him as if she were a full-blooded Scotswoman. Her stance said she was a force to be reckoned with and was unwilling to give way to him without a fight.

  She was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen in his life. He wanted to sweep her up into his arms and accept the strength she would offer him without hesitation if he confessed his heart to her. It was wishful thinking.

  Even if Gilbert wasn't an immediate threat to her and the children, he would still send her away knowing he no longer had anything to offer her. It would have been difficult enough to burden her with a man less than whole, but at least he would have had a home to offer her. Now there was nothing. When he didn't answer, the pleading look on her beautiful face made him want to groan in helplessness.