Attracted to the Earl

by Bronwen Evans

  Kit was desperate to do as she said but his loyalty to Guy made him hesitate. Just then Guy entered carrying two sets of freshly polished Hessians.

  “I suggested Kit go and be with his wife and I’ll help you with your packing.”

  Guy smiled. “I tried to tell him that Giles would help me but he insisted.”

  Kit snorted. “Giles, while a very good butler, is no valet, but I shall leave you in Miss Pinehurst’s capable hands. I’ve done most of it already.” Kit walked to hug Guy. “It will feel strange not going with you. I can’t remember the last time we were not under the same roof.”

  “You wouldn’t be under my roof even if I were not leaving. You have your own family now.”

  The two men looked at each other and Kit shook his head. “I never dreamed I would have such a life as this. I’m so happy I could burst. Thank you. It was a lucky day when I met you.”

  “No. I would never have been able to manage my command, or this house, without you. It is I who should thank you.” He crossed the space between them and the two men hugged. They stepped back and Kit clapped Guy on the shoulder. “Go and beat Patrick at his own game. Once Bedford is trustee Patrick is defeated.”

  Abigail cleared her throat. “I think Guy should go to court. I think he should fight Patrick’s suit and keep hold of an estate he is perfectly capable of running.”

  The jovial air turned stale and cold. Kit looked at her and said, “Do you know what that will entail? What Patrick will expose?”

  “Of course. But Guy has fought all his life to show how he can survive and thrive without an ability to read or write. He deserves to have his day in court to prove it. Otherwise Patrick still wins.” She looked at Guy. “Deep down inside you know I am right. I can’t let you sign away the right to run your estate. My reputation cannot be the cause of you not fighting for what is right and just. You’ve never surrendered in your life. Please do not start now.”

  Kit ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “She’s right. While I would do anything to protect Dora from the hurt of what will be revealed, she also does not want to be the cause of you losing the running of your estate. She does not want the world to think you are incapable. For it is a lie. And we have always fought for the truth.”

  She pressed on, stepping forward and taking Guy’s hands in hers. “I can’t bear to think of Patrick winning. He will continue to spread his lies, and unless you go to court, you will not have a platform to refute him. His Grace told me you can win, if only you’d fight. He will get statements from many important people, testifying to your intelligence. The doctor can testify to your injury from the fall, and we can show that the girth was deliberately cut—that it was an attempt on your life. Point out that the only person who benefits is Patrick and since he has not killed you he wants to take what he cannot get any other way. His Grace has proof of Patrick’s indebtedness. You can build a case that will destroy Patrick once and for all.”

  Guy cupped her chin and pressed a kiss to her lips. “But it will also destroy you. And I want to marry you very much. More than I want to let the world know I’m clever enough to be a success without the help of the Duke of Bedford.”

  She slapped his hand away. “I won’t marry you if you do this. I won’t be the cause of you losing everything you’ve battled for. I just won’t.” She meant it too.

  And he saw the truth of it, for Guy cursed and began to pace the room. She saw the pain in his eyes. Her declaration meant that either way she would never marry him, for how could he marry her once the truth of her upbringing came to light. The pain in her chest almost took her to her knees, but she knew what she did was the right thing for everyone.

  He stopped and looked at Kit, hoping he would agree with him but instead Kit said, “She speaks the truth. You deserve to be in charge of your own estate. You deserve for the world to know the successes you have are yours alone. If Abigail is brave enough to fight then you should be too.”

  Guy slumped to sit on the end of his bed. “Bloody Patrick. He’s ruined everything. Why does it have to be so hard?”

  She knelt at his feet and rubbed her hands up and down his thighs. “Both of us know how hard life is. Both of us have fought for the lives we have now—our fight was for life over death. There will always be battles. Always evil to defeat. If I had not risked leaving my mother’s brothel at the age of only thirteen, with a newborn baby, I would not be here with you now, and I would never have known such joy. Something worth having is worth fighting for.”

  A tear slipped from his eye. “I’m fighting for you—for us.”

  “There will always be us. Just not the ‘us’ you hoped for, but we both knew that was a pipe dream. Well, I did. You just didn’t want to listen.”

  “I love you,” he whispered. “So much.”

  “I love you too. I always will.”

  He drew her into his arms and kissed her passionately. She heard Kit leave and shut the door. He finally broke the kiss and said the last thing she’d expected. “Come to London with me. If you are with me I can take on the world.”

  “I would go anywhere with you, my love. Into the fires of hell itself if I had to.”

  Chapter 20

  Guy wondered if his decision to contest Patrick’s challenge was worth this pain. He was sitting in the Duke of Bedford’s townhouse dining room having dinner. He was staying at his townhouse, while Alex had kindly offered to have Abigail stay at his house with him and his wife, Hestia, for appearances’ sake, and also to lend his support to her. But once the truth came out would the duke’s endorsement be enough to save her from scorn? Alex risked his reputation but would not turn her away.

  No wonder Abigail was too scared to be seen in public. She sat so straight in the chair opposite him he thought her a statue. She’d barely touched her meal, or said a word to anyone. She looked like a lost lamb waiting for the fox to strike.

  Since arriving in London four days ago, she had not stepped outside the duke’s house. The confident woman he met the day she stood in his entrance hall looking like a drowned rat had disappeared. He barely recognized her. He wished he could reach across the plates and chandeliers to squeeze her hand, but not here, not in front of Baron Eldon.

  Hestia, Her Grace, Alex’s wife, had been an angel with Abigail. She’d been kind to her even though she knew of her background. It was obvious though that both Hestia and Penelope, Lord Clevedon’s wife, intimidated Abigail. Yet with his mother she had been fine. It was different because they were the same age as her, and knew of her past. These women had grown up in a world she could barely imagine.

  Alex had thought it a grand idea to invite Baron Eldon, the Lord Chancellor, for a small private dinner. Could Guy’s cravat feel any tighter? Alex would introduce him to Eldon and they would try and impress upon the baron that Guy was indeed a capable and sane man. Guy would confess his inability to read, but not until the end of the dinner. He wanted to prove to the baron during the meal that he was an intelligent and engaging man.

  As far as Baron Eldon was concerned, the meal was going well. The baron’s wife sat on Guy’s left, and Alex’s wife, Hestia, was on his right. Around the rest of the table was Alex, Stephen, and Stephen’s wife, Penelope. Abigail sat between Stephen and Alex as if the men were there to shield her from attack. Hestia had arranged a whole new wardrobe for her as soon as they had arrived. He watched as Penelope gave Abigail an encouraging smile. The women tried to include her in the conversation but Abigail merely gave monosyllabic answers.

  Every once in a while, she shot him daggerlike looks. She had not wanted to come to the dinner, but he refused to hide her away as if she were a dirty secret. She looked stunningly beautiful. She looked like a countess, his countess, if she would only not be so stubborn. He longed for this nightmare to be over so he could move on with his life. Yet Abigail was his life.

  The meal had finally come to an end and Hestia rose and signaled that the ladies should take their leave. Suddenly, the sweat
began to drip down his back. This was when the men would start talking about the case.

  No sooner had the ladies left than Baron Eldon said, “While I appreciate the invitation to dinner, Your Grace, I cannot help but think it has something to do with a case Mr. Patrick Neville has approached me about, especially as the Earl of Argyle is here too. I believe Patrick is your cousin, is he not, my lord?”

  “He is indeed.”

  “I am struggling, after meeting you tonight, to understand the basis of Mr. Neville’s case. Can you enlighten me as to why he would insist that you are incapable of running your estate? With the duke obviously standing by you, I would think Mr. Neville would have more sense.”

  Guy looked at Alex and he nodded his encouragement. Guy took a sip of his brandy and decided honesty was the best policy. “I think my cousin has overspent, and I believe he thinks that when he becomes trustee he will be able to steal from me. In addition, someone tried to kill me a few weeks ago. They cut the girth on my saddle, and I came off my stallion. Luckily there was no damage except for a few cracked ribs, but I could have broken my neck. There is only one person who benefits should I die without issue.”

  Eldon swore. “Mr. Neville.” He raised an eyebrow. “But you have no proof.”

  Guy confirmed with a nod.

  “How on earth does he think he’d win any case he brings? Is the man mad?”

  “Yes,” said Alex under his breath.

  Before Guy could answer the question, Stephen, who had been walking around the room, handed him a book. Guy recognized it. It was the one from his library. It was Daniel Defoe, but Robinson Crusoe not Moll Flanders. He smiled. This had all the hallmarks of Abigail.

  Stephen said, “If you will indulge me for a moment, Lord Eldon. Argyle, I have marked page twenty—why don’t you read it to us.”

  If Abigail were here he would kiss her, and he would not care who saw.

  He began to read. He could remember the story as if Reginald had read it to him only yesterday, and for one moment his voice hitched as he silently thanked his dead brother. He read three pages before he stopped.

  Baron Eldon said, “It is a wonderful book. May I ask why Lord Clevedon asked you to read it?”

  Urgent knocking at the door stopped him from answering. “Forgive the intrusion, Your Grace, an urgent missive has arrived for Lord Clevedon.” The butler brought forward the silver tray. “Shall I wait for a reply, my lord?”

  Stephen opened the note. His eyes widened as he read. He slapped the note in his palm. “No. There is no reply, thank you.” He turned to Baron Eldon. “It appears all of this is a moot point. Patrick Neville’s body has been found in Seven Dials, knifed through the heart. They think he died sometime earlier this evening.”

  Which gave them all an alibi.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Argyle, although I imagine this is somewhat of a relief.” Eldon rose. “Shall we go and join the ladies. I believe the duchess was going to partner me in a game of whist.”

  Guy sat frozen in his chair as the men followed Eldon from the room. Patrick was dead. Who? Why? It took him only moments to acknowledge he did not care. It was over. His secret was safe, but more importantly Abigail’s secret was safe. Who else would go looking this closely at her background? The Duke of Bedford would give her a new family history and it would take a very courageous man to contradict a duke.

  He could marry her and live with her at Argyle House for the rest of his life, away from prying eyes. He could not wait to tell her. Just then the door opened and Abigail was there by his side, kneeling at his feet. “Clevedon told me the news. I know I should not be so happy about a man’s death, but oh, my God, I could dance a jig. It’s over. Your estate is safe.”

  “I can’t really believe it. I want to go and see the body just to make sure this is not a dream. I can’t help but wonder who killed him.” He pulled Abigail up and onto his lap, hugging her tightly.

  “I suspect given the type of man he was, it might be a long list of suspects.” She pressed a kiss to his face. “Thank God we had Baron Eldon here for dinner. No one can accuse you of killing Patrick.”

  Guy closed his eyes, holding Abigail tightly, and he silently vowed he was never going to let her go. Finally he whispered in her ear, “How would you like to go home tomorrow and find that elusive Ghost Orchid?”

  “Really? You don’t want to stay and go to fancy balls and meet young debutantes?” He loved the jealousy riding her response. “You’re quite the eligible bachelor, according to the number of invitations Penelope told me have been sent to your townhouse.”

  “I miss you in my bed,” was his only reply before he took her lips in a drugging kiss. He pulled back on a groan, his erection straining his trousers, and he hoped no one came to find them for at least the next few minutes until he got his hungry body under control.

  He held her close. “Marry me, Abigail. Marry me and damn anyone who learns of your background. Alex has already begun getting papers and leaking a fabricated background that Stephen, one of England’s most accomplished spies, has drawn up. You told me life was a risk and we are both risk takers. Our lives are proof of that. Take another risk and put your heart and well-being in my hands. They are safe hands, because I love you.”

  “Your mother…”

  “My mother will approve. Especially if I point out that it keeps my secret safer.”

  “Guy?”

  “Yes, my love.” He held his breath, willing her to be brave. As brave as she’d been all of her life.

  “Take me home to Cambridgeshire,” she whispered.

  “You haven’t answered me.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. “Yes, I will marry you. I love you so much I can’t quite believe you want me as your countess. Some might say you’re an idiot for proposing to me, but I think you’re the smartest man I know.”

  He laughed joyously as he stood with her in his arms and twirled for joy.

  “Can we go now, tonight?”

  He wasn’t surprised at her question. Abigail wasn’t comfortable here, and he didn’t care if she ever was. He didn’t need London. He couldn’t care if they never left Argyle estate again. “That would be a bit rude to our hosts. I want to thank Bedford and Clevedon, and it would be safer traveling in the daylight. Tomorrow. Is that soon enough?”

  “I suppose I can wait one more night, but it will mean another night without you in my bed,” she pouted.

  “But this time I’ll have you all to myself in the carriage. What on earth will we do on the journey home?”

  “I’m sure my clever husband-to-be will think of something.”

  “Oh, I have it on good authority he’s very clever, for he wants to marry you.”

  He gently lowered her until she was standing on the floor. “Let’s see how brave you really are. We are going to join the others, and I will be telling them you have had the good sense to become my wife.”

  He took her hand in his and together they went to join their friends. Guy was walking on air. He’d never been so happy.

  * * *

  —

  The following morning Guy directed his carriage to Bedford’s townhouse to collect Abigail. He had slunk from her bedchamber early in the morning, so he’d had very little sleep, but his body hummed with happiness and he couldn’t wait to get her home and make an honest woman of her.

  He arrived to find Abigail ready. She had many more trunks than what she came with. Hestia had rallied her seamstress to come to the house, since Abigail refused to go out shopping. She was dressed in a beautiful emerald velvet travel gown that brought out the vibrant green in her eyes. As she pressed a kiss to his cheek in greeting she whispered, “Did you notice it hooks down the front.”

  His groin immediately responded to her teasing and he was even more impatient to get under way.

  Hestia moved forward to hug him. “Don’t be a stranger. Please bring Abigail to visit, even if it’s at our estate rather than in Lond
on. I like her. She’s a lovely woman. You are very lucky.”

  He hugged her back. “Thank you, Hestia. What you’ve done for her, welcoming her into your home, accepting her, I will never forget it. I owe you a huge debt.”

  “That is what friends are for. Thank me by bringing her to visit.”

  He nodded, too choked up with emotion to say more.

  He shook hands with Bedford. “I’ll keep an ear out for any scandal about Abigail, but I believe Stephen’s cover is deep enough no one will ever learn the truth.”

  “I don’t care if they do. I am so proud of her and all she’s accomplished. Quite simply I love her.”

  “Before I married Hestia, I didn’t think anyone could love me. The things I’d done while a captive of the sultan…well…Abigail’s past is no more scandalous than mine, and yet I’m a well-respected duke who is loved by a wonderful woman. I learned it’s all about how we view ourselves, not what others think of us that matters.”

  “Very true. If I had listened to my father, believed what he said, and if I had not had the love of my brother and Abigail, I would not be standing here today.”

  “Go home, get married, and be happy.”

  “I intend to.” He led Abigail out to the carriage, and was just about to hand her into it when a young urchin came out of nowhere, barreling into her, almost knocking her to the ground.

  “Cur sorr’, my lady,” and then he was off before Guy could cuff him about the ears. “Are you all right, my love?” he asked. “Check your reticule in case he was a pickpocket.”

  “There is nothing of real value in it, merely some hairpins and a brush.” But she opened it and gave a gasp.

  “Is something missing? I’ll send one of Alex’s servants after him.”

  She shook her head and looked at him in wonder. “No, he put something in my bag,” and she drew out an envelope.

  He handed her into the carriage and climbed in behind her, slamming the door on the noise and smells of the London streets. He knocked on the roof and the carriage lurched forward. Finally, they were on their way home.