An Earl for Edith

by Tammi Lee Bird

  Miles had been floored. He’d never questioned her intentions, had thought she felt the way he felt when he held her in his arms and kissed her. He quickly learned she loathed his large stature and plain features. A common boar she’d called him more than once. He’d tried to change her mind. To woo her anew after their newlywed trip to Brighton, but every attempt he made to gain her favor only increased her contempt.

  Miles poured himself a glass of port and drank it down. He didn’t want to think about Louisa anymore. She was dead and gone. Now that he had his freedom, he wouldn’t waste it on another wife. Perhaps he’d wait until the Wilsons arrived to see if they were still planning on forcing him together with Miss Wilson. There was a slight chance that they would let the matter go and move on to an easier target. Yet his bank accounts were so flush with coin that there weren’t enough gentlemen around who could sway them away.

  He poured himself another glass and sipped it carefully, not wanting to wake in the morning with a pounding headache. A noise came from the corridor, a bump of two objects colliding, followed by, “Ouch!”

  He recognized his daughter’s voice, picked up his candle, and found her rubbing her toe outside his room. “What are you doing up, Gracie?” he asked.

  “I had a bad dream, Papa. I went to your room to find you, but you weren’t there,” Grace’s voice quivered. Her shoulders were shivering and she looked positively frightened.

  “Come here, lambkin,” he said, opening his arms wide to receive her. She ran to him, and he could feel her trembling in his arms as he picked her up. She’d grown several inches of late and was heavier than he remembered. She was growing up too fast; he could hardly believe she was a seven-year-old. “What sort of bad dream would upset my perfect angel?”

  “I had a new mother, Mrs. Jacobe.” Grace grimaced. She’d never gotten along with the vicar’s wife who loved to point out others’ flaws and scold them into repentance. “She was with me every day and kept telling me how to stand and talk, and she used a willow branch to whip me when I was bad.”

  “Well,” Miles said thoughtfully, “that does sound like a nightmare. But you do know that I cannot marry Mrs. Jacobe because she already has a husband. So, she cannot become your mother.”

  “True.” Grace smiled for one glorious moment, then frowned again. “But you could marry someone else even worse than her.”

  “Who’s worse than Mrs. Jacobe?” Miles was curious.

  “Miss Thornton, for one. She giggles at everything and smells like she fell in a lake with both fish and flowers.”

  Miss Thornton was a spinster, who worked so hard at attracting a man, she did the exact opposite. She was nice on the surface, but rude and snippety when she thought no one was paying attention. A forced marriage to Miss Wilson would affect Grace’s life as much as it would his own. He couldn’t even imagine how much a bad marriage would hurt his little lambkin’s spirit.

  Miles kissed Gracie’s cheek and set her down, his mind made up. Tomorrow he was going to do the dishonorable thing. His shoulders stiffened, and he began to pace. His father would turn over in his grave if he knew what Miles was about to do. But as long as it was for his Gracie, he could do worse than bet a rake he couldn’t get a lady to kiss him.

  “Take my hand, and I’ll guide you back to your room. You won’t have any more bad dreams because I will never marry someone you do not approve of, lambkin,” he assured his daughter. She smiled up at him, her blue eyes free from worry. As she walked her dark curls bobbed up and down, curly as a little lamb. Grace was his heart and joy, and she deserved a mother who loved her.

  Blast it all! Mother was right. He should remarry, if not for his own sake then for her. Maybe in another year or two he could start looking for a woman who would be sweet, kind, and biddable. Someone who wouldn’t care if he didn't love her as long as she had a title and a daughter to dote on. Provided such a mythical sounding creature even existed.

  Miles tucked his daughter into bed before making his way back to his own room to sleep. His thoughts kept him awake for most of the night, so when he awoke the next morning his head was pounding and his eyes were heavy.

  Archibald Lancaster arrived around noon. His blond hair had a hint of curls and his pale cornflower blue eyes were framed with thick lashes. He looked like a dandy with his striped waistcoat and inexpressibles so tight that Miles couldn’t even imagine wearing them during a long day of travel. It would have to be deucedly uncomfortable.

  “How was your journey?” Miles asked.

  “Long, and I couldn’t help but wonder why the infamously reclusive Earl of Camden wanted to speak with me. I am devilishly hungry though, so before we get down to the business at hand would it be possible for me to break my fast?”

  “Of course.” Miles sent a maid to the chef and escorted Sir Archibald to the dining room. Within minutes the food arrived and they both partook. Once they were both sated he guided his guest to a private room where they could talk without being interrupted. He started the conversation by pouring a glass of his best brandy, he handed the glass to the baronet and said, “What I am about to tell you is in the strictest of confidence. Should I discover that you’ve spoken of this to anyone, anyone at all, I shall do my best to ruin you.”

  “Go on, Camden. I’m intrigued. I hope whatever interesting thing you have to say will lessen my ennui,” his guest replied.

  Miles told Sir Archibald of his encounter with Miss Wilson and her mother and explained that he wanted to make sure her heart was not set on marrying him. “I have one of the best stables in the country,” Miles said. “If you can kiss Miss Wilson within the month and take her interest away from me, you can pick any of my horses to take home with you. Excluding Amadeus; my father bought him for me as a present.”

  “His lineage is also worth more than my estate. Lud sir, why even without Amadeus your offer is astounding. I’ve heard of your horses’ fame even out in Derbyshire. It is an offer I cannot refuse, but at the same time, I can’t help wondering what is wrong with Miss Wilson. Does she have spots?”

  “No, her skin is clear.”

  “Then why are you willing to ruin your reputation?”

  “If I marry again, it will be my choice. I will not have a woman forced upon me. Now stop stalling. Are you in or are you out?” Miles asked.

  “I’m debating. I feel like the stakes aren’t high enough. The young lady has her sights set on an earl, and she might not be willing to settle for a reprobate like myself. Not all ladies are willing to fall for a handsome face. Should the lady manage to kiss you before I can kiss her, then the lady should win the bet and the horse.”

  “She doesn’t even like horses. Besides, I can’t give such a generous gift to an unmarried woman without people talking. I’d be forced to marry her.”

  “Precisely. If I win the bet, you’ll be off the marriage hook, but if I lose the bet, you pay an even greater fine. Even if the woman doesn’t like the horse, I’m sure she’ll love the title that comes with it, Countess.”

  “Why would that make the bet better? Doesn’t that decrease your odds of winning?”

  “Yes, but life isn’t just about money. I have a feeling that the next few months will be very entertaining. And that will make this little gamble worth risking my reputation for.” Archibald Lancaster smiled, and his perfectly chiseled features looked dangerous.

  “You lack any sort of ‘good’ reputation. You’re a well-known cad already.”

  “Yes, but most ladies still think me redeemable. I think it has something to do with my dimples. Women love the way they look when I smile. Are you up for the challenge, Lord Camden?”

  Miles thought about his options. He was already trapped, and at least the bet gave him an out, but he needed better odds. “I’ll agree on one condition. If she doesn’t kiss either of us in the next month the bet is off, and it has to be a full kiss on the lips mind you,” he reiterated, remembering how quick she’d been to accost his cheek.

  “Mak
e it two months and you have a deal.” Archibald reached out his hand and Miles took it and shook it. There was no going back now.

  Chapter 5

  Edith Wilson stared at herself in the mirror. She’d just returned to Aunt Margaret’s townhouse after the Westchester’s ball, and even though she was dead tired she still looked presentable, almost lovely, with the new dress and what remained of the artfully applied makeup that enhanced her features without making her look like a trollop.

  Madam Poullard had discovered her complexion was best in bold, rich colors and while she couldn’t wear dresses made entirely of red or dark green, she could use them on the trim of her gown. While most of the material was cream, the edges and lace were a vibrant green that made her skin glow and complimented her eyes.

  If only the dress could have given her the courage to talk to strangers. Today had been her third ball since coming to London, and even though she’d danced almost half the night away, not a single gentleman had asked her to dance a second time or talked to her for more than a minute. Most of her dances, in fact, had been with old acquaintances of her aunt’s who were much older than herself, and quite a few of them had been married men. Now it was well past midnight and she was reviewing the evening in her mind from the comfort of her room. Her problems started when they entered the crowded ballroom. She froze the moment she saw all of those people. She wanted to run away. Edith did not enjoy being close to that many strangers.

  Edith washed her face as poor Gretchen yawned over the nightdress she held. “If I knew how to get out of this gown on my own, I wouldn’t have woken you, but there are so many strings and buttons that make it impossible for me to remove without help.”

  “S’fine, miss,” Gretchen yawned again. “It’s my duty to help you, and it’s not your fault that London folk stay up so late.”

  This time Edith covered her mouth to hide a yawn. The ball was probably still going on even now. How anyone could dance that long she’d never know, but she was happy to sleep. Tomorrow was another full day as they had plans to go to a musicale at Lady Addington’s. Edith couldn’t help sighing in relief as Gretchen released her stays. Once she was dressed in her night things, Gretchen turned to leave, but before she closed the door she said, “There’s a letter for you, from your mother, on your nightstand. It came in while you were out.” With her duty done her maid closed the door and left Edith alone in her room.

  Edith was curious about Mama’s letter. She grabbed her letter opener and quickly held up the simple note.

  Dear Edith,

  I hope you are enjoying London. Please do not give my half-sister my regards as they are anything but warm, unless she has been able to convince you that you should come to Avonview Manor for the Camden ball. We leave tomorrow without you, yet I wished to give you one more chance to reconsider and meet us there. If you have no beau or prospects, come. I want only what is best for you and that is a rich husband.

  -Sincerely,

  Minerva Wilson

  Annoyed with Mama, Edith crumpled the letter and blew out her candle. She would reply tomorrow with a short letter explaining that her decision had not changed. Though she was curious about Avonview, was the place as lovely as it sounded? With all of his money, it would either be amazingly cozy and charming, or glaringly ostentatious. Luckily Edith was tired enough that she was able to put Mama out of her mind and fall fast asleep.

  The next morning was a beautiful day, and she was able to convince Margaret to go riding with her in Hyde Park. The place was crowded with people, but Edith was able to enjoy herself and live in the moment. Another pair of riders caught her aunt’s attention, and Edith watched as Margaret waved down a set of strangers. “Why, hello Lady Cowper, Lady Bradshaw. What a pleasure it is meeting you here this morning,” Margaret said.

  Edith straightened her back and tried to still her hammering heart. She’d heard so many different things about Lady Cowper and didn’t want to disappoint one of Almack’s patronesses. “It was too beautiful a day to stay indoors,” Lady Cowper said.

  Aunt Margaret nodded. “Yes, I completely agree. This,” she said pointing to Edith, “is my niece Miss Wilson. I would love to introduce her more formally to you over tea.” Another hopeful woman with a young daughter in tow was waving at Lady Cowper. Everyone wanted her attention and the Lady, while only a few years Edith’s senior, was eager to be off.

  “I’m free on Thursday next. Send me a card and we’ll have a chat.” With that said, the Lady turned to greet someone else.

  “I cannot believe you just talked to Countess Cowper! Felicity will scream when she hears about this. Mama wasn’t able to get an invitation to Almacks, and Felicity was truly crushed.”

  “But I am not your mother. I am a baroness, and when I get you a voucher to Almack, your mother will be livid.”

  “Why don’t you and Mama get along?” Edith asked. She’d wanted to find out earlier but had been afraid of making Margaret angry.

  “My mother died when I was a baby and my father remarried a few years later. My step-mother was very beautiful and kind to everyone but me. She hated the reminder of her husband’s first wife. Minerva was spoiled from the moment she was born, and she was so lovely that I had a hard time keeping a beau. Fighting over men wasn’t the true problem, though. When my step-mother passed away, she left me her wedding ring.”

  Aunt Margaret lifted her left hand, and on her ring finger was a beautiful rectangular step-cut emerald surrounded by six diamonds. “I think she was sorry for not treating me kindly when I was young,” Margaret explained. “ Minerva was furious. She’d always wanted her mother’s ring and felt I had no right to it. She asked me for it, but I refused. She was the only mother I ever knew, and I was touched she left the ring to me.”

  “Surely the two of you can reconcile, you’re family.”

  Margaret smiled softly and turned her horse around. Edith followed and listened as her aunt said, “We were never close, and sometimes it can be fun to have a rival. Someone who fights with you at every turn. No, we are long past the point of being friends, but I would like to spend more time with you and your sisters. Perhaps next year, if you haven’t found a match yet, Lucy could join us in London for the season.”

  Edith was happy to hear her aunt would be willing to sponsor her again. She’d always assumed this season would be her only chance at finding a husband. That didn’t mean she could relax and just have fun, though. She needed to work as hard as possible at finding and attracting someone she would be willing to spend the rest of her life with.

  Miles watched as another carriage pulled up the long drive to Avonview and wondered, not for the first time, if this was the vehicle carrying the Wilsons. A third of Mother’s guests had already arrived and Miles was tired of waiting. He wanted to see Miss Wilson’s face when she first saw the handsome Sir Archibald. If she let her admiration for his fine features show, he’d be less unsure of himself. The past few weeks had been torture, and he had a hard time thinking of anything but Miss Wilson and her conniving mother.

  He walked down to the entryway. As host, he tried to greet every guest as soon as they arrived. Hadley was expertly ordering the staff to carry luggage as he took the new guests’ coats. Miles recognized Mrs. Wilson immediately. Her blond hair and blue eyes were the same as he remembered. Miss Wilson, on the other hand, had either changed completely into a younger and more beautiful person, or wasn’t present at all. There were only two people entering the house with Mrs. Wilson: an older man he could only assume to be Mr. Wilson and a very young and charming scamp with dark ringlets whom he assumed was Miss Wilson’s sister. Where was the woman he’d waited for over the last month? The one who’d kissed him on the cheek and who he later hit with a door. Miles greeted Mrs. Wilson and she promptly introduced him to her husband and Miss Lucy.

  “I was expecting your eldest daughter to come with you,” Miles said. “When will Miss Wilson be arriving?”

  Mrs. Wilson was about to speak when her hus
band put a hand on her shoulder then turned and said, “Edith is in London for the season. We decided it was past time she had her chance to shine. Which is why she won’t be coming.”

  His surprise must have shown on his face, for Mrs. Wilson put her hand on his arm in a consoling manner. “She has a childish notion of finding a love match. I told her to be realistic, that with her face and fortune she’d never find such a partner, but she didn’t listen to me.”

  Mrs. Wilson’s words made him irritable. Her daughter didn’t have any spots or blemishes, and she wasn’t ugly. It was no wonder Miss Wilson felt unattractive when faced daily with the beauty of her sister and pettiness of her mother.

  It wasn’t until after Miles sent the Wilsons to their rooms that he realized the implications of what he had done. He, Miles Stirling, had bet a veritable rake to woo and kiss an impressionable young woman whose only desire was to find love. If she wanted to force him into marriage, then Miss Wilson would be here now, not dancing in London. As if called from his thoughts, Sir Archibald appeared as if from nowhere. “I heard that Miss Wilson is in London enjoying her season. I’m sure you’ll be very sorry to hear I have been called away by urgent business and therefore cannot stay for the ball.”

  “No, if Miss Wilson is not here, then the bet is off.”

  “I’m terribly sorry to tell you, Camden, that her being here was not mentioned in our little scheme. No, the bet is on, and I am leaving to go and see Miss Wilson about a horse.” Sir Archibald gave a large wicked smile and winked at Miles as he left. Miles’ hand instinctively formed a fist. The desire to clock the dimples off of the man was strong, but he knew better than to give in to such irrational thoughts.