Attracted to the Earl

by Bronwen Evans

  Mathis was excited. “Your idea of importing Merinos was brilliant, my lord. As you can see the merino wool volume is up, and although our flock is still small, these fifty sheep account for almost two-thirds of the income from the whole flock because the wool is of such quality. It’s almost as valuable as gold.”

  The time Guy spent in Spain fighting was not a complete waste. He had noted the quality of the Spanish merino wool and through his contacts had been able to secure a few sheep. He planned to breed more.

  “Your brother would be amazed at the revenue this purchase has generated.”

  “Thank you. Sir Joseph Banks has a few rams we could use for stud purposes. I shall write to him.”

  Mr. Mathis frowned before leaning forward and pointing to another report on the table. “What about these numbers? Do they raise any concerns?”

  Mr. Mathis was pointing to a parchment on his left. “I am not concerned. The number of fields to put to hay should be sufficient. We still have some left from last winter.”

  Mathis simply nodded. Guy had remembered the order of the parchments on his desk perfectly. Now all he had to do was fool Patrick Neville. His smugness ended the minute Mathis pulled a ledger out of the satchel at his feet and opened it to a page. “I was just wondering if you could have a quick glance at these numbers. I’d love your opinion.”

  Where the hell was Kit? Late again. This is the exact situation Kit was supposed to protect him from. Bloody man had his head full of Dora.

  Could he mop his brow without Mathis noticing? He reached for the ledger and pretended to peruse the page. Think! What could he be asking about?

  Before he could form any coherent thought there was a knock on the door and he took the opportunity. “Come.”

  Abigail stepped inside and her smile died when she saw Mr. Mathis. “I’m so sorry, I can come back when you are not busy.” Her words petered out as he sent her a pleading look. Why he had no idea, as he didn’t want her to learn of his stupidity, but could he trust Mathis either?

  “I’m sure Mr. Mathis won’t mind waiting if you need my attention for a moment.” Mr. Mathis had risen to his feet, his face a shade of red, and said, “Of course. I can wait.”

  “What can I do for you, Miss Pinehurst?”

  She hesitated, looking between the two men. Confusion marred her features. “I…that is…I thought I’d let you know that Rose was told of your accident and looks forward to a visit on another day.”

  “Thank you. Is that all?”

  “Well,” she was wringing her hands, “I was wondering if I might have a private word regarding the forest, but it can wait until later.”

  “No. Stay.” He had jumped to his feet and startled both Mathis and Abigail. He beckoned Abigail closer. “Mr. Mathis just needs my opinion on this,” and he pointed to the ledger on his desk, “and then my attention is all yours.”

  He watched as Abigail leaned over and read the ledger. Please say something that gives me a clue…Sweat was now running down his back and he could feel a drop sliding down his cheek.

  She glanced back up at him and smiled. “I think it would be a lovely idea.” She bestowed a smile on Mathis. “The tenants’ wives will have somewhere cool and safe to leave the children while in the fields harvesting.”

  He breathed deeply. He knew what the ledger was showing. It was detailing the costs of constructing shelters near the three large paddocks that grew hay. Once the hay was cut, the women would rake it on a daily basis so it dried properly, often taking the children with them. It was hot work. He didn’t know what the cost was but he didn’t care. He would provide his tenants with a safe and happy working life.

  “I agree. The women could probably work longer too if they have a chance to cool down and not have to worry about the children either. I approve.” With that he closed the ledger and handed it back to Mathis.

  Mathis rose and excused himself, leaving the room bathed in silence as Guy stood looking at Abigail and wondering how much she had ascertained about his use of her reading the ledger.

  He moved over to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy and noticed his hands shake as he poured the fiery liquid. That was a close call. If Abigail hadn’t been there to help him…“Your sister is taking up a lot of Kit’s time.”

  Abigail was standing at the window, looking down at the garden below. She turned to him and he indicated with his hand if she would like a drink. To his surprise she said, “A small brandy would be nice. I’ll talk to Dora if she is disrupting Mr. Hunter’s time.”

  He walked to stand beside her as he handed her the glass. He took a long sip as he looked down at the garden below and pondered about the way his life had turned out. He silently drank a toast to Reginald, who he missed greatly. He had barely seen his brother over the past ten years. The last time was when Guy had been injured in battle. He loved his brother and would gladly have died in his place. He looked at Abigail lost in her own thoughts. Was she thinking about the fiancé she’d lost? Why did all the good men die young and bastards like his father lived to a ripe old age?

  “Kit is a very good man. I believe he has honorable intentions toward your sister. She would be a very lucky young woman to win the heart of a man like him. Also he has very secure employment and I plan to bestow a significant sum upon him when he weds.”

  “Why? Why are you so generous with Mr. Hunter?”

  “He saved my life numerous times in battle and has been of great service to me when I was suddenly thrust into this role.”

  “I’m sure you saved him numerous times as well. I’ve heard that is the way in the army.” She twirled the amber liquid in her glass. “You are lucky to have such a loyal friend. I was on my own, looking after Dora, for most of my life. When we were barely surviving in London, friends were a luxury most could not afford.”

  This was the first time she’d talked about her upbringing. “How did you survive when left alone at such a young age with Dora to look after?” He saw her shoulders flinch and she took a large gulp of brandy. The memories were obviously hard.

  “Molly. Molly was working for Mrs. Wakefield, who had set up a place for young unmarried mothers to get help. She took pity on me having Dora alone, and they let me stay too. Then I started helping out with the children and Mrs. Wakefield noticed me and sent me to her school for girls. I enjoyed art and she helped develop my drawings and found me my first benefactor.”

  “We all need someone to help us at some point in our lives.” When he’d left home he’d lost Reginald’s help but gained Kit’s. He thanked God for watching over him most days. He would not have survived without Reginald or Kit.

  “What did you wish to see me about?” He motioned Abigail to take the chair by the fire. It wasn’t a cold day but the sun did not penetrate the room. He would hear what she wanted and then he’d see if he could arrange a liaison for tonight. He wanted to see if she had a knife on her person, and he needed to see what kind of blade it was.

  He watched with surprise as she downed the rest of her brandy on a shiver. She placed the glass on the table, reluctantly letting it go. She took a deep breath.

  “I think you are hiding that you cannot read.” She turned and looked directly in his eyes as she said it. “I’m not sure, but a few things lead me to believe you have a problem with your letters.” She rushed on. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of but it explains a few things.”

  He did not blink or take his eyes off her. “What does it explain?” He barely got his words out through his clenched jaw.

  “Why Patrick Neville asked me to find out what you were hiding. I can’t quite understand why not being able to read is such an issue. What can he do with that information?”

  They call anger hot, fiery damnation, but his veins turned to ice. “So you are in my house under false pretenses.”

  She shook her head and held her glass out to be refilled. “No. I am very anxious to find and draw the Ghost Orchid. That was always my intention. However, Mr. Patrick Nevil
le is distantly related to Lady Calthorpe on his mother’s side. When he heard I was coming here, he waylaid me in Haxby.”

  “What did he threaten you with?” The idea of Patrick getting his hands on Abigail made black spots dance before his eyes. It was only a slight movement but he caught her hesitation. “Or is he paying you.” For some reason his chest hurt at the idea of a monetary incentive, especially as it looked like she might be involved in Patrick’s new idea of trying to kill him.

  “That insult is uncalled for.” Her eyes flashed with anger and hurt. “If you must know, he threatened myself and Dora. For a woman like me Patrick Neville is a powerful man who can literally make Dora or me disappear.”

  “Why tell me this now.” Was it because she’d guessed they were investigating his accident this morning?

  She took a gulp of brandy as if for courage. “Because I have been thinking about your tumble from Bolton this morning. I think there is more to it.”

  Think or know. Had she gut the girth?

  She continued. “Brodie was going to saddle Bolton and then,” she rubbed her forehead, “and then the gelding at the back of the stable began kicking and Brodie left. I saw a man loitering in the entrance of the stable and assumed he was a groom and asked him to saddle your horse.” She looked up with tears welling in her eyes. “I heard the men below stairs talking and saying that it wasn’t an accident. I can’t stand by and see Patrick Neville hurt you or your family.”

  Guy studied her and her distress seemed to be real. That’s how it happened. There are strangers on his estate.

  Her glass sat empty again and she twirled a handkerchief between her hands. “I risk a lot telling you this so I am hoping you will protect us against Patrick. He’s capable of anything. If anything happened to Dora…”

  “What will happen to Dora?” a determined voice asked from the doorway.

  So engrossed in their conversation, neither of them had heard Kit arrive.

  “Has someone threatened her?” Kit asked, striding into the room.

  Chapter 12

  Abigail sat in the drawing room with Dora, Molly having taken herself off to bed after their quiet dinner. The women had eaten alone. It would appear Molly was correct. Dora was completely infatuated with Mr. Hunter. Her sister had not stopped talking about the man the entire evening.

  Abigail inwardly scoffed. She could hardly sit in judgment. Her head was full of Guy—the man she found herself decidedly attracted to. Ordinarily that would not be a problem. She knew her place. Just the thought of her reputation being tarnished and losing her respectable employment was enough to douse any flames. But Guy was different. She’d already gone too far and now Patrick was arriving and suddenly she felt dirty—and petrified.

  “I don’t think you have listened to a word I’ve said over the past five minutes,” Dora complained.

  Abigail quickly put a smile firmly in place. “I have too. Mr. Hunter quoted, by heart, your favorite poem.”

  Dora eyed her suspiciously. “Is everything all right? I mean, twice you have been out with his lordship and he’s come back injured. It would appear he’s very accident prone.”

  What were the men up to? They had asked her to leave while they discussed what she had confessed. As she’d closed the door of his study behind her, she could hear Guy calming Mr. Hunter over the threat to Dora. It would appear Kit did have very strong feelings for her. Abigail wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Dora was still young, and Kit was the first man who had turned her sister’s head. Was it simple infatuation or true love? Abigail was actually more worried Dora, who may not know her mind on the subject of love, having little experience, would hurt Kit.

  Before she’d left the study, Guy swore they would be safe as long as they remained here at his estate. Would that still be the case when Patrick revealed all her secrets? Would they still be welcomed? Would she still be asked to teach the ladies drawing? Would Guy still look at her as if she wore a halo when he learned the truth of her background? Not even Dora knew about that. Only Molly. Molly had been at Mrs. Wakefield’s when she had first arrived, beaten, bruised, and starving.

  She hadn’t even had a chance to find out how it was Guy could not read, or how Patrick could use that knowledge. She sat up straight and slapped her forehead.

  “Abigail?”

  Perhaps this was not the secret Patrick alluded to. Did that matter? “I’m tired. It’s been another exciting day.” She stood. “I want to get away to the forest early tomorrow so I shall go to bed.”

  “I think I’ll stay reading here for a bit.”

  She looked at Dora. “You could read in your room.” Dora didn’t say anything. Abigail sat down on the arm of Dora’s chair. “Do we need to have another talk?”

  “No. Definitely no.”

  “I know what it’s like when you can’t think because you’re giddy with joy over a man.” She did. When she’d met Scott her world changed. “Just take a breath every now and then before you make any decisions, or before you do something you feel could compromise you.”

  “Kit would never do anything to hurt me.”

  Abigail smiled and pressed a kiss to Dora’s head. “I’m more concerned you might hurt him. He’s older than you. I think he is serious about you, yet you are so young—”

  “But what if he is the one and I let him get away? How did you feel when you met Scott? Did you know right away?”

  Abigail squeezed into the same big chair as Dora and wrapped her arms around her. “It was not love at first sight if that is what you are asking.” Mainly because she was so ashamed of her past, and she could not marry anyone unless they knew the truth, so she’d never considered the risk to her reputation and livelihood worth getting involved with any man—until Scott. “Scott grew on me like a prickly rosebush that suddenly flowers and draws you in. It gave us time to learn what we needed to know about each other. A slow burning fire that gradually grew into roaring flames.”

  “Do you still miss him?” Dora asked softly.

  “Not as much as I did. Now I simply remember the wonderful times we shared.”

  “Do you think you are ready to meet someone else?” Dora’s question sounded loaded.

  “Maybe.”

  Dora plucked at the skirt of her gown. “His lordship seems a nice man and he’s so handsome.”

  She looked at Dora. “You do know that nothing good could come of a relationship with him. I’m so below his station the idea of marriage is laughable.” The ideals of the young. Those in love believed anything was possible. “Besides, one budding romance is enough for the Pinehurst women. What are your feelings for Kit?”

  Dora closed her eyes and laid her head on Abigail’s shoulder. “I like him but I don’t know if I love him. He’s so handsome, kind, funny, but a bit intimidating. He’s lived such a diverse life and I feel so naïve and sheltered. How did you know you loved Scott?”

  “I guess I realized the depth of my feelings for him when it was obvious I wanted to be with him every minute of the day, and the thought of living without him was unbearable. I wanted to live with him, bear his children, and love him with all my heart.”

  Dora was silent for a moment. “I feel like that for Kit. I want to be in his company as much as I can. I love making him laugh, and the idea of leaving Argyle House and never seeing him again makes me want to weep.”

  “From what I’ve seen I think he feels the same way. His lordship told me Kit is well provided for and he is not opposed to the match. We will be here for at least another month so don’t rush.” She hoped they would still be here, but she did not know what would happen now that she had told the truth. “Take your time and enjoy your courtship. Just not too much!”

  Dora hugged Abigail. “You’re the best sister I could ever have.”

  Abigail simply hugged Dora tighter before rising to go to bed. But she had one stop on her way. She wanted to find Guy. What had the men decided? Would she and Dora and Molly be safe here or should they leave firs
t thing in the morning before Patrick Neville arrived?

  All the way up the stairs toward Guy’s bedchamber she wondered how she could elicit his empathy. He was a kind man. She knew it was scandalous going to his room but the men had not been in the earl’s study when she passed.

  When she reached his door she swept the corridor with her gaze; no one was about. She didn’t knock but simply lifted the latch and slipped inside. The room was dark, only the low burning fire in the grate. She stepped farther into the room, cocking her head to listen for any sound of Guy’s presence. Hearing nothing, she sighed and decided to move to the bed to sit and wait for his return.

  As she neared the large four-poster, Guy whirled from within the heavy velvet drapes surrounding the bed, pinning her against the bedpost, manacling both her hands above her head. His bandaged but naked chest pressed her against the hard wood of the bedpost and his sandalwood scent filled her nostrils.

  It happened so fast, she’d not had time to react, but sensing his iron strength, coupled with feeling trapped, brought dark memories flooding back and on instinct her knee rose, connecting solidly with Guy’s most vulnerable bits. He crumpled to her feet on a gasping groan.

  Oh, dear. She probably shouldn’t have done that but it was a reflex action. “I’m sorry, but you frightened me.”

  He was still groaning and whatever he was muttering she couldn’t make it out and given how his eyes gleamed, fierce and pale, it was likely a good thing. Her body started as she realized it wasn’t just his chest that was naked. He did not have any clothing on whatsoever.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this to you twice in one day, but just take deep breaths through the pain.”

  His grunt told her she should apologize again.

  “I only came to talk with you, you didn’t need to grab me like that. You frightened me half to death.”

  “Christ, woman. There is a man out there trying to kill me, and you crept into my room.” He narrowed his eyes at her like a man planning vengeance, so she took a step back. “Oh, no, you don’t,” and before she could scream he’d grabbed her ankle and pulled her down on top of him. “I want to know what you are doing in my room.”