The Earl’s Dangerous Passion (Historical Regency Romance)

by Ella Edon

  Derby growled and turned back to Rebecca, who practically threw herself on him.

  “Lord Derby!”

  Derby grabbed her wrists and set her away from him. Then he stepped back and started rolling down his sleeves. He was only just realizing that he was in a state of undress.

  “Get my jacket, will you, Dobson?”

  “Very good, my lord.”

  Dobson headed back into the study while Derby finished adjusting his shirt. Rebecca giggled and tapped him on the shoulder with her fan.

  “You don’t need to dress in front of me, my lord. I’m going to be seeing it all soon.”

  That made Derby nauseous.

  “I prefer to be dressed properly for everyone, Miss Colburn.” He was relieved to see Dobson come back out with his jacket, which Derby slipped into quickly. “What do you want?”

  “I wanted to have a look around the estate.” Rebecca waved at the gardens around them, smiling at him. “And I thought, seeing as it’s your home, you might want to escort me around. Make sure I didn’t get lost.”

  Derby would prefer that Rebecca got lost and out of his hair. He buttoned up his shirt collar.

  “Nobody’s leaving the house today, Miss Colburn. Not even us. We can stay within the immediate grounds, but that’s about it. No further than that.”

  Everyone had to know of the murder by now. Servants spread things around the house so fast Derby could barely catch his breath. Rebecca had to know about it, and she had to know that nobody could leave. It was common sense. Everyone was under suspicion right now, or someone else could become a victim.

  From the way Rebecca was pouting, she did know, but she just didn’t care.

  “But you’re the lord of the house,” she whined. “You can do what you want.”

  Derby stepped close to her. He shouldn’t have felt any satisfaction at witnessing Rebecca take a step back.

  “I’m sure you’re all torn up about the murder of the Marquis of Merseyside, Miss Colburn,” he said coldly. Rebecca flushed. “He was a friend of mine, and I want to know what happened. Everyone is to stay within the confines of the house and the gardens by my orders. Now, if I were you, I’d go to your room and wait there. Or go and converse with someone who wants to listen to you.”

  Rebecca’s face was still red as she backed away. For once, she actually did, as Derby told her without any arguments. Tossing her curls over her shoulder, Rebecca spun on her heel and stalked off. Helen Colburn blushed and shuffled from foot to foot.

  “Forgive my niece, my lord,” she said as she looked at the floor. “She’s very determined and very young. It’s not easy for her to understand.”

  Derby felt pity for her. The woman had to deal with a lot. He put a hand on her shoulder.

  “I have no ill will against you, Lady Maudlin. Just keep your niece out of my way if you can.”

  Helen nodded and scurried away. Derby let out a heavy sigh and turned away. That wasn’t as painful as he expected. That was one less thing to worry about.

  For now.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Amy was not looking forward to this. As soon as she had got back inside and was heading up to her room, one of the maids came hurrying to her and said Lord Hartley wanted to see her. This was something Amy had been trying to avoid. She did not want to speak to her father, and she certainly didn’t want anything to do with her stepmother.

  He would have pestered her until Amy gave in and went to him. Then there would be a scene, and her father would make her feel two inches tall. It was easier to face him now than have to deal with it later on.

  Squaring her shoulders, Amy went to her father’s private rooms. Hopefully, it would just be Hartley and not Beatrice. Amy was not going to have a conversation with that woman. She was working on Amy’s last nerve. Hartley had to know that.

  There were times like this that Amy wished the man she had known when she was a little girl was still here. He had been a loving, caring man, and it had all gone wrong by the time Amy turned six. It was not what Amy had expected in her life. The old Graham Hartley wouldn’t be forcing her into a marriage with a despicable man who was not marrying her for love and was willing to control her by violence, if necessary.

  A loving father would not do that to their daughter.

  Taking a deep breath, Amy knocked on the door, entering when bid. Hartley was in the sitting room he and his wife shared, reading a book by the window. He looked up as Amy came in.

  “You wanted to see me, Father?”

  “Come in and close the door, Amy.”

  At least he was alone unless Beatrice was hiding in her bedroom to pounce. Amy shut the door and headed across the room. Hartley put his book aside and stood, brushing down his trousers as he cleared his throat.

  “Lord Leicester has just come to see me, Amy. He says he’s been trying to talk to you all day, but you’ve been avoiding him.”

  Amy sighed, putting her hands behind her back.

  “I think after what he did to me last night, you shouldn’t expect me to be in the same room as him, never mind talk to him.”

  Hartley narrowed his eyes.

  “He is your future husband. You can’t turn your back on him.”

  “He is not my future husband, and yes, I can.” Amy gripped her hands together, feeling her nails digging into her palm. “He attacked me and showed no remorse over it. All you could do was stand there and watched as he abused me. Even if I had agreed to marry him beforehand, I certainly won’t after that.”

  Hartley’s jaw tightened. His face was starting to go red. Rubbing his hands over his face, her father turned and walked to the window before turning back.

  “Amy, you need to realize that you can’t be in my household forever.”

  “I don’t want to be in your household at all!” Amy shot back. “But you could at least give me a decent husband.”

  “You mean someone like Lord Derby?” Hartley snorted. “Not a chance. Lord Derby is not an option.”

  “Why not? Because he’s not someone you chose? You didn’t have control over it, or over him?”

  “You watch your tongue, young lady,” Hartley growled. “Being the Countess of Leicester will give you the stability that you deserve for a woman of your standing.”

  That had Amy barking out a laugh. That was a joke. Being the Countess of Leicester would make her a laughing stock. Everyone knew what Lord Leicester was, and no one would go near him now that `his reputation had got around. Amy would be seen as a stupid little fool.

  “Being the Countess of Derby can give me that stability as well,” she pointed out. “And he’s never raised a hand to me. He wouldn’t do that. I will not marry Lord Leicester, and you can’t force me.”

  “Yes, I can. I am your father.”

  “And I’ll argue all the way.”

  Hartley bared his teeth as he advanced on her. Amy stood her ground but braced herself, ready for the slap. Her father looked ready to put his hands on her. And, indeed, Hartley did reach out as if to grab her, but his hand stopped just in front of her face, trembling as it clenched into a fist.

  “You need to stop being so childish, Amy.” His voice was tight. “Only children argue back.”

  He was not listening. Again. Amy wanted to cry. She blinked back the tears as she glared back at him.

  “You’re impossible,” she hissed.

  “Then the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, did it?” Hartley stepped away, turning his back on her. “Lord Leicester wants to talk to you. You go and speak to him. Now.”

  Amy didn’t want to speak to Leicester. Even if he apologized for his behavior, she wouldn’t accept it. The man was false; it was clear to see. It was just a shame that Hartley didn’t see that himself.

  Her father had gone back to his book, crossing his legs in his chair as he hummed to himself. To him, this brief conversation was over. In Amy’s mind, it was far from over.

  She stormed out, slamming the door behind her for good measure.


  * * *

  Amy stumbled through the house. She didn’t know where she was going, and she didn’t care. All she wanted to do was get away from the man who was turning everything upside-down for her. Amy knew as soon as they left Derby’s estate, they would marry her to Leicester as planned, and Amy was terrified.

  The man was not a suitable husband. He was abusive and vile. How anyone found him attractive had to be mad. He was seen as a rake, and women knew exactly what he was. Everyone in Society knew. Hartley had to know, and yet he was prepared to give his daughter to the Earl.

  Amy hated her father. He just would not listen. She was sure within a year, she would be dead or close to, and Amy would lay it firmly at her father’s door.

  Getting to the bottom of the stairs, Amy tripped and almost fell, only to be caught by strong arms that came out of nowhere. Her rescuer steadied her on her feet, and Amy looked up to see Dobson looking down at her. His arms were still around her, and there was a strange look in his eyes as he stared at her.

  “Dobson.” Then Amy realized he was still holding her, and she stepped back, adjusting her dress sleeve. “Forgive me; I didn’t know you were there.”

  “I noticed.” Dobson was still watching her closely. “What’s happened?”

  “I…” Amy swiped at her face, aware that tears were making an appearance. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s hardly nothing if you’re crying.”

  Amy said nothing. She and Dobson got on well, and she liked him, but this wasn’t exactly something she could tell a servant about. Her own maid, maybe, but not Dobson. Amy jumped as Dobson took her hand, gently tugging her towards the back of the house.

  “Come with me.”

  “What?” Amy was so startled that she ended up following him. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Dobson’s hold on her hand was firm, but she could have slipped out at any time. And yet she didn’t. She allowed Derby’s valet to lead her out via the side door and through a gap in the hedge. They entered a small open space, enclosed by the hedge. Amy stopped and stared. She had never been in this part of the garden before. There was a beautiful blossom tree in the middle, surrounded by a rockery at the base of the trunk. There was also a bench up by one of the hedges. It was a small, private area. Intimate and quiet.

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s somewhere that the last Lord Derby used to come to when he needed a quiet place to think, to get away from it all.” Dobson walked over to the tree, giving it a bow before touching the branches. He looked back at Amy. “He planted this tree when he created this space. In memory of his wife.”

  It was a beautiful spot. Amy approached the tree, touching the trunk.

  “I never knew about this place.”

  “It’s a private place for Lord Derby as well. He doesn’t talk about it much.”

  “Does he come here as well?”

  “Not as often as he once did. The man is practically tied to his desk nowadays.”

  “It’s a shame.” Amy walked around the tree. “It’s a lovely space. Nice and quiet considering how close it is to the house.”

  “It certainly is.” Dobson ducked under the branches, coming to the other side as Amy made her way around. “Why were you crying, Miss Hartley?”

  Conversing with a servant about something like this was dangerous. Servants talked. Even Clara talked after Amy told her things. Much as Amy adored her maid, there were certain bits about her private life that Amy didn’t want broadcasted. But Dobson wasn’t that. Derby had described him as someone he could confide in. The valet didn’t disclose any secrets.

  Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, which he handed to Amy.

  “It’s not silk, but it will do.”

  “Thank you.” Amy dabbed at her eyes, swallowing back the tightness in her throat. “I think you know the reason why I was crying.”

  “Your impending marriage to Lord Leicester?”

  Amy snorted.

  “Or so-called marriage.” She turned and stomped over to the bench, sitting down with a huff. “No matter what I say or what I do, Father is determined to make me the Countess of Leicester. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He has to see Lord Leicester is completely unsuitable. I can’t understand his reasoning.”

  Dobson stood nearby, hands clasped behind his back.

  “It sounds like Viscount Hartley wanted someone to keep you in line once he hands you over. Someone like him.”

  “I’ve come to that conclusion myself.” Amy twisted the handkerchief in her hands. “He must really hate me if he wants to have me marry an abusive man.”

  “Sometimes, men think their decisions are the best for everyone. It takes a man willing to swallow his pride to realize that they’re not the be-all and end-all of everything, that we shouldn’t take his word as gospel.”

  Amy stared at him. It was rare to find a man of Dobson’s standing who spoke so wisely.

  “I can see why Derby speaks about you in such high regard after a statement like that.”

  Dobson grinned.

  “He’s called me some interesting names as well, but they’re not names for your ears.”

  “It can’t be worse than what I’m thinking about my father right now.”

  Dobson threw back his head and laughed. He really was a handsome man. Any young servant girl would be falling over herself to get his attention. Dobson approached her and sat beside Amy, being careful not to sit too close.

  “You really do love him, don’t you?”

  “Leicester?” Amy balked. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

  “I meant Lord Derby.” Dobson didn’t blink. “You love him.”

  There was no denying it. The man was far too observant, and Amy didn’t want to lie to him. She nodded as she looked at the ground.

  “I do love him. I have for years. And I know he’s never said it in return, but I know Lord Derby loves me.”

  “It’s difficult for Lord Derby to admit anything,” Dobson said. “He’s only just coming to terms that he loves you. You just need to give him time to express it out loud.”

  “He’s already expressed it to me with his actions. Derby’s not the type to mess around with my feelings.” Amy bit her lip when she saw Dobson raise his eyebrows. She wasn’t about to explain that. “I just wish Father would realize that.”

  “I understand.” Dobson chuckled. “Maybe you two could run away to Gretna Green. Then you won’t have to bother with getting consent. Get him out of your life as both of you want.”

  Gretna Green. Just beyond the Scottish borders. Amy had heard several stories of couples running away to get married up there as they didn’t have the same laws as England. Once you were married, there was nothing anyone could do about it, as far as Amy was aware. The thought of running away and eloping sounded very tempting. Amy decided to mention it to Derby.

  If he ever proposed to her.

  “Father’s not going to agree to our match, is he?”

  Dobson sighed and shook his head.

  “From what I’ve seen, no.” He took a deep breath, seeming to choose his words carefully. “Listen, I know I’m just a servant, but I like to think I’m a good listening ear. I know Lord Derby well, so if you need to complain about anything, and that includes my master, come find me.”

  Amy hadn’t had an offer like this before. Not from one of the servants. It was the kindest thing she had been given. Leaning over, she kissed his cheek.

  “Thanks, Stuart. You’re very sweet.”

  Dobson was staring at her with that strange expression again. Then his face went red, and he looked away, clearing his throat. Suddenly, a loud bellowing had the valet jumping to his feet.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  * * *

  Amy looked up to see Leicester standing in the gap in the hedge. His face was tight with anger, hands clenched at his sides. The man looked like he was about to burst a b
lood vessel.

  Dobson reacted almost immediately. As Amy stood, he moved to put himself between her and Leicester, almost squaring up to him. Amy didn’t want a fight, and she didn’t want Dobson in trouble. She touched his arm.

  “Go back into the house, Dobson.”

  “Miss Hartley,” Dobson glanced back at her, “I will not leave you…”