The Earl’s Wicked Seduction (Historical Regency Romance)

by Ella Edon

The market was just as much fun for Grace the second time as it had been on the first. Since all of her family had worked at Northcliff, they had been allowed to eat whatever was left over in the kitchens and there was always simple soup and bread if that was not enough. She had never really had to shop for food or other goods – the head cook had kept all procurement for the kitchens under jealously guarded control – and she found that she was enjoying getting the hang of it now.

  At least, it kept her occupied and not thinking of Adam every moment of every day.

  This time, as she had promised her mother, she came back with an entire pound of mutton that was only a little dry and tough, along with a dozen fat potatoes. As a special treat for John and Noah, she'd found a bargain on four small pieces of sugared ginger.

  All of it was tucked away in her basket and she was about to leave the marketplace to return home, when a tall form caught her eye, but he was walking up from the river side of the market and not from the street.

  Once again, it was Adam, tall and straight, even though he still walked with a limp. He stood, smiling at her with his flat cap pulled down over one eye. "Good day to ye, Miss Miller," he said, standing under a tree right at the edge of the marketplace. "How's your marketing today?"

  After what had happened the last time, Grace felt entirely off balance upon seeing him again. It was not so much that she feared he might kiss her again . . . but more that she feared he wouldn’t. As a respectable woman, who was very seriously searching the marriage market in Birdwell – such as it was – that was not the sort of thing she ought to be thinking of.

  Blushing only a little, Grace managed to meet his hazel eyes. "The marketing is quite fair today, Adam. My basket is nearly full."

  "Ah, so I see, so I see. Thread and button, a fine piece of mutton!"

  "Indeed." Grace finally smiled. "But where is your pony car?"

  He laughed, and then began walking back towards the way he’d come – back towards the river. "No pony car today. It's their day of rest. And that is lucky for you and for me because I'm about to show you the transport that I did use today."

  "But – there is no road back here – how did you – " Then Grace stopped, blinking, and looked out at the river.

  Pulled up on the shore, was a small white boat. "What a pretty boat!" she said, walking over to it. "It looks quite new, or at least newly painted. Any boat I ever saw always looked quite worn and greatly used."

  "Most do," he agreed. "But this is indeed a new boat. It belongs to Worthington, and much as I was with Woodlark, I’m charged with trying it out and seeing how it goes. Wouldn't want the quality gentlemen and ladies to get their feet wet, you see."

  Her eyes widened. "Do you – do you think you might get your feet wet in that boat?"

  Again, Adam laughed, seeming genuinely amused. "No, Miss Miller, I don't. I'm sure it will do just fine and there’s really no danger of it sinking. In fact – " He stood in front of her and took her hand. "In fact, I am so sure of its seaworthiness, that I am inviting you to test it with me."

  "To – test it?" She glanced at the little boat again. "Well, I should – I should be getting on home – my mother – "

  "Only a short journey, I promise you. The day is far too lovely for you to spend trapped indoors. You wouldn’t make me test the boat with only meself for company, would you?"

  The truth was, that Grace had never been in a boat in her life and she wasn’t sure she should tell him that. No doubt. he would think it was very strange that an ordinary country girl had never once had occasion to ride in a little boat.

  "It would be so lonely for me, floating down the river all alone," Adam said. "I should enjoy your company much more than I'd enjoy my own."

  When she hesitated, Adam stepped right in. "Good! I knew you wouldn't leave me to such loneliness. Give me your basket – that's it – and come right over here. I'll help you to get in."

  Adam took the basket and held her very firmly by one hand. Very awkwardly and hesitantly, Grace stepped into the very small boat. "That's it," he said, steadying her as she stood on the boat's floor. "Now, step over the center bench – that's it – and sit down there in the back, across the stern."

  The floor felt quite solid as Grace stepped over the bench and sat down in the back. Maybe this would not be so bad after all. Adam handed her the market basket, pushed the little boat off of the shore, and stepped in himself.

  She immediately clutched the sides of the boat as it rocked and swayed, and it seemed that the bottom of it had turned insubstantial, now that it was floating on the water. Adam merely sat down on the bench and took up the oars as casually as taking up a pony's reins.

  Grace shook her head and wondered what she was getting herself into. For the second time, she was leaving the safe confines of Birdwell and all of its people – including her family – and heading south of town with Adam Wheeler.

  Though the market was still busy and everyone seemed to be concerned with their own purchases and their sales, it was quite possible that someone may have seen her get into the boat with Adam and drift away.

  As she looked at him, sitting across from her in the boat, pulling the oars with his strong arms and broad chest to send the little boat on its way, Grace forgot about everything else. It was becoming easier each time to do that . . . and though she knew she should be appalled at the thought of letting her family down, all she could see was Adam smiling at her with the promise of another adventure.

  The little boat glided down the Feathering River and was soon well out of sight of anyone in town.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Many Small Secrets And One Shocking Discovery

  In the warmth of the late afternoon, Grace sat in the back of the little white boat and watched as Adam let the soft current of the Feathering River carry the craft downstream. Occasionally, he would give the oars a pull to keep the boat moving at a steady pace, or use one oar to straighten its course, but for the most part, all they had to do was drift along and enjoy the filtered sunlight behind the soft clouds and watch the pretty countryside.

  Grace tried to look around at the sights on the banks because if she didn’t, she would do nothing but stare at Adam. The road leading out of Birdwell did run alongside the river, but was far enough over that it wasn’t likely that their little boat would be noticed.

  All along the river, there were cottages with well-kept gardens and sheepfolds and chickenyards and hog pens. Farther in the distance, there were open, grassy fields with small dots that were either horses or cattle – it was too far to tell.

  But it was the most beautiful of days, late enough in the spring that the grass was entirely green and the trees had most of their new leaves . . . and everywhere, there were flowers and blossoms and the sweet scent that they brought with them.

  Adam rather abruptly turned the boat and aimed it towards the shoreline, giving the oars a couple of hard pulls and sending the nose of the little craft up onto the grass. He stood up and got out, reached for Grace's hand, and helped her step onto the riverbank.

  It was good to be back on dry land again. This was a very pleasant spot, with thick grass along the banks and a line of shady trees sitting a little farther back. Yet Grace found that she had enjoyed the boat ride more than she'd thought she would.

  "I almost wish we could go farther," she said shyly.

  Adam laughed. "Well, we could, but we are nearly to the ford," he explained, glancing downstream. "I would have to drag the boat through the ford. And I think I'd rather just sit here in this little spot for a time, before we must return."

  At the mention of the ford, Grace blushed and looked away. Never would she forget the way he had kissed her while they sat in the governess car, letting Woodlark drink from the cool water.

  "Of course, of course," she said quickly. "Oh! There are swans here! How lovely." A few of the large white birds lazily paddled by on the water and then hopped up onto the shore a little way down from them. "It's perfect," Grace whi
spered, and wondered how she could have been so fortunate to have a life that included days like this.

  Adam reached into the boat again and took out both a small parcel and a folded blanket. Then he reached for Grace's hand and led her back beneath the trees, to a sheltered spot that would be difficult to see from either the river or the road.

  "Sit down," he said, spreading out the blanket on the grass under the trees. "I was at the market today, too, just before you arrived." He took out a couple of items thickly wrapped in paper. "Here is newly roasted chicken, boned and salted; a couple of boiled eggs; two small apricots, first of the season; and some of Mrs. Branch's gingerbread to finish with. It isn't much, but I think it will do for an early supper."

  Grace looked at all the rich food with something like shock. The amount of roasted chicken alone that Adam gave her, spread out on the heavy paper beside the boiled egg and the precious apricot, was nearly as much as food as she might have in three days at her home. And there was still a sweet to finish it off!

  She could hardly bring herself to touch it, thinking of how far all of this would go for three adults and two growing boys.

  Adam started in on the roast chicken and the eggs. "I actually prefer plain food," he said. "Just plenty of salt is all I need. And these eggs! Just the same." Then he seemed to notice that she was not touching her serving.

  "I must apologize for the tableware," he said, laughing a little. "No time to bring plates or any silver, I'm afraid."

  "Oh, no, no, it is not that," she said quickly, and wrapped up all of her food in the layers of paper. "Would it be – that is, may I take mine home and try it a bit later? I am just not hungry right now. Though it all looks very, very good!"

  She realized that he had paused in his eating and was just gazing at her. "Why, that would be more than fine, Grace," he said quickly. "Whatever you like. I didn’t ask if you were hungry before we left, so the fault is entirely mine! Though I do insist that you take my gingerbread and apricot. I have eaten all of my other food, and so you must take these for me."

  He wrapped up the fruit and the dessert and handed them to Grace. Slowly, she reached out and took the parcel from him, putting it with her own re-wrapped food. "Thank you. It was very kind of you to bring all of this out here just for me."

  Again, he looked at her as though he'd never seen her before, and then smiled gently. "You are more than welcome. I hope you like it. The gingerbread, especially, is a favorite of mine, ever since I was a boy."

  She smiled politely, wondering if he could tell that she had never tasted gingerbread in her life.

  "Now, then," Adam went on. "Since we have a bit of time before we must return, I'll ask you to tell me a bit more about yourself. I know a little, of course, but you must tell me more."

  Grace was instantly on her guard, knowing she would have to be very careful about what she said – because most of it was going to be a lie of one kind or another. But she was in this too far to turn back now.

  "I will make you a bargain, Adam," she said, though in truth, she was bargaining for a little time to think. "I will tell you a little more about myself, if you will tell me a little more about yourself."

  "Oh, a bargain, Miss Miller? Well, I suppose that's fair enough." He set aside the papers, cleaned his fingers on a handkerchief from his pocket, and then settled down to think. "I’m the youngest son of my family. I had three older brothers, but they did not live past their infant days. My father is gone, too, some years ago. My mother is my only living relation."

  "I see," she said quietly. "So much loss. I am sorry to hear of it."

  "Now, now," he said briskly. "It was long ago. And my mother is well and I enjoy her company."

  "Does she live with you?"

  "Why – she – " He paused as though thinking about what to say, which seemed a little strange to Grace. "She does, when I am back in London. When I’m not, there are servants who live in. She’s well cared for."

  "Then I am glad about that."

  He nodded. "I thank you. But it is lonely with just the two of us." Adam gazed out at the swans resting on the banks. "I envy you your family, Grace. Your young brothers are such fun. They will grow into fine young men, I'm sure of it."

  There was sincerity in his voice, and it warmed her heart. "It seems to me that we do have a few things in common. We have a liking for horses and picnics and country life, more than grand balls and society. And – it seems we share a love of family."

  Adam cocked his head and smiled at her. His face seemed to relax as though some façade, some wall he kept up, had at last been lowered. "I do believe you’re right," he said quietly, and continued gazing at her.

  Grace stared back at him, lost in his hazel eyes and at how the wind ruffled his soft brown hair as it fell over his forehead.

  Suddenly, there was a hoarse honking sound and commotion near the shore. Grace jumped as one of the big white swans chased another one away, and then all of them jumped into the water and continued on their way downstream.

  Both Grace and Adam burst out laughing. "I suppose one of them made a rude remark to the other!" Grace said. "I'm glad the company here is much more agreeable.”

  Adam grinned, looking a little mischievous. "So it is. But now it's your turn, Miss Miller. I know you that you have family here in Birdwell. You have two young brothers who seem very fond of you, an aunt and uncle who run the feather shop in town, and a mother who lives with you and your brothers out at Applewood Cottage. Do I have all of it right?"

  "You do, you do," she said, laughing again. "Life is work, of course, but we are very glad to have such a pleasant place as Applewood where we can live."

  "You’ve not been in Birdwell for long. Where did you live before coming here?"

  "Oh." She paused. "We lived in a little place far to the north. It was, ah, family land, you see. But when my father – died, not long ago, we were very fortunate to have Aunt Betsey and Uncle Leonard offer us Applewood Cottage to rent at a – at a very good price. So, my mother and I care for the boys, and I help my aunt and uncle at their shop whenever I can."

  "That does sound very good for a family arrangement. Do you like living so near the town? It sounds like you were farther isolated before now."

  "We were. You are right about that. But I do like Birdwell and our cottage very much. I know how lucky we are to have so much. All of us are grateful. Very grateful."

  He moved closer to her, still trying to hold her gaze, but Grace nervously looked away and folded her hands. "Why, Adam – you have not said whether or not you will attend the next assembly ball!" she said, hoping to distract him a bit.

  It seemed to work. Adam sat back a little and looked out towards the river again. "That has yet to be decided," he said at last. "Most likely I will be working that evening as the earl's coachman, of course, as I was before."

  "Though we know the earl has something of a dislike for such occasions," Grace said. "Perhaps he will again stay away."

  Adam shrugged. "Even if he doesn’t go, he may again loan out his carriage to the Clarkes as he did before. Then I will be driving them again."

  "I see."

  Then he looked closely at her with his eyes twinkling. "Though I promise you, Grace— If I’m not needed to drive, I surely will attend."

  She smiled, and this time only shrank back a little, when he leaned forward and took her in his arms. "But enough talking, Grace. You look so very pretty today, with your dark hair moving in the summer breeze . . . you need no artifice, in spirit or face or dress . . . I am so glad to have found you."

  Before she could respond, Grace found herself lying back on the blanket with a cushion of soft grass beneath it. Adam lay at her side, holding her close, and she could feel the great strength and warmth of his body against hers.

  She closed her eyes. She almost felt she might faint, for her body seemed caught between excitement and melting heat. Then Adam leaned down and kissed her, and the entire world faded away into floating darkness
.

  Never would she have thought that such a strong man could be so gentle. His mouth was as soft as a butterfly's wings . . . and it made her want more, and more.

  Time seemed to stop as she reached up and kissed him in return. This was far more than the polite kiss on the hand that she had sometimes seen proper men do for proper ladies. This was something special and true, and far more meaningful than empty hours spent at beautiful parties and fancy balls.

  In some distant part of her mind, she knew that she was going to be forced to choose between helping her family and her intense and growing love for a simple coachman.

  It was all both wonderful and terrifying.

  She didn’t know how much time went by. Grace was only aware of Adam's hands running across her body and of his gentle lips on hers.

  Suddenly, he sat up.