Page 14 of Dare to Tempt an Earl This Spring (Wedding Fever #1)

T he next day, Ashley awoke with the single-minded determination to get that trump card, her heart, back in the game. And getting to the bookshop had been easier than Ashley anticipated. Once she’d confirmed that Linsey was out on his morning ride—which would last roughly two hours—she demanded a carriage be readied. Many things could be accomplished without question, she realized, if done with confidence. Therefore, after she had demanded with confidence, the stable hands had scurried to prepare her drive into town.

Truthfully, she hadn’t felt all that confident. Her fingers had trembled even as she held her head high.

She had half expected Linsey to leap from a stall and prevent her escape—ahem—excursion, of course. She wasn’t a prisoner, even if she felt shackled already.

Linsey would no doubt question her later. She had alluded to keeping city hours, but she also required a riding habit. It wouldn’t be long before he discovered she didn’t have one. That, too, would require some creative explanations, wouldn’t it?

She plucked a book from the shelf and flipped it open to a random page. So far, none of the books had offered any helpful riding tips. They were going riding, and though she knew the basics—how could she not, having learned from her father at a young age—she hadn’t ridden in years. She lacked confidence now, which, ironically, was the very thing she was there trying to find in a small stuffy shop, with a rather small selection, compared what she was used to from Regent Street.

“Find anything you like?”

Ashley froze, lifting her gaze to meet the sharp, hawkish eyes of a familiar face—the Duke of Paisley. He stood so close, she immediately caught his scent, and an uncomfortable itch spread across her skin. He smelled exactly like the chickenpox tincture she remembered from years ago. She suppressed a shudder.

“Your Grace,” she greeted, forcing a smile. “What brings you to the bookshop?”

“I saw you enter and became curious,” he replied smoothly. “Linsey did not accompany you?”

That’s because he doesn’t know. She wondered if the duke had guessed as much. He seemed the sort of man who saw far more than he let on and merely asked stupid questions to lull you into security. Snake.

She tilted her head, smiling. This, at least, she excelled at—facing opponents with hidden intentions and eyes that revealed nothing. But his eyes. There was something unsettling in them. A flash of something that didn’t fit the moment. He might be a shapely man, but there was something chilling about him that overshadowed the glint of handsomeness at first glance.

“I didn’t wish to disturb him,” she said.

“Is that so…” Paisley rubbed his chin with his shiny gloved hand.

His tone made her instantly wary.

“Yes,” she lifted her chin a notch. “His morning ride is most precious to him.”

He nodded, his gaze dropping to her hands. “What book are you looking for? Perhaps I can help you search for it.”

Ashley froze. She couldn’t very well tell a friend of Linsey that she was looking for a book about horses! She shut the book she still held in her hand and placed it back on the shelf. “I’m merely browsing.”

He just smiled, observing her, like a hawk who had spotted a rabbit.

“Well, then,” she said, stepping back. “I shall be on my way.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No need.” The quicker she escaped this awkward moment, the better. Every instinct told her to leave. And Ashley usually trusted her instincts. It was only with Linsey that she dared to be stubborn.

He lazily leaned against the bookshelf. “Are you sure? It’s dangerous for a lady to be alone.”

Dangerous? In the countryside? She nearly snorted. The only danger I sense is from you. She paused. Wait. Did that mean it was dangerous in the countryside?

Focus, Ashley.

She forced her smile wider. “Rest assured, I can handle myself perfectly well.”

He laughed suddenly. “Funnily enough, I believe you, my lady.”

“As you should, Your Grace.”

His head tilted, his eyes narrowing. “Why did you agree to marry Linsey?”

The question was so abrupt, Ashley blinked. “I beg your pardon?” Why on earth would he ask her such a thing?

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t wish,” he said, shrugging casually.

“It’s not about whether I wish to answer. It’s whether or not it’s your business.” She eyed him coolly. “And why do you care?”

His smile deepened, though it held no warmth. “Do you know why he asked you to marry him?”

Ashley narrowed her eyes. “Can you ask me that without knowing why I agreed?”

“Point taken.”

“Why are you so interested, Your Grace? Concerned for your friend?” she asked, testing the waters, knowing it couldn’t be that simple. But his reaction would speak volumes.

“More confused than concerned.”

Ashley arched a brow. What was he getting at?

He must have noticed her suspicion, for he said, “Weren’t you attached to Jordan Critton? The third son of Baron Critton—”

“What?” Her heart plummeted to her shoes.

He knew.

He knew about Jordan.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Their attachment hadn’t been a secret, but it also hadn’t been formally announced. The fact that the duke knew and had said nothing to Linsey was…odd.

Very odd.

So odd that she took a step back.

“From your reaction, I take it Linsey doesn’t know.”

Ashley forced herself to gather her composure, squaring her shoulders. “What is there to know? I’m engaged to Linsey, not Mr. Critton.”

“Didn’t Critton have a wager with Linsey?” Was that a question or a threat? One couldn’t know from Paisley’s tone.

“I cannot say. Men never talk to women about such things.” Good job, Ashley. You said that with a straight face.

“Has there been much talking since your first dance at Almack’s?” Paisley gave her a condescending look that made her blood boil.

“The appropriate amount,” she snapped. Raising her chin, she turned to leave, not willing to give him a second more of her time.

But the duke moved swiftly, taking a large sideways step to block her path. “The conversation is not finished.”

“It is.” Ashley’s voice was cold, sharp. She knew how to be curt when necessary and never shied away from giving a man exactly what he deserved. And the duke certainly deserved no more of her time.

“You dare cut me?”

Ashley glared at him. His eyes held no good intentions. Unlike a certain earl. Her thoughts turned suddenly to Linsey—honorable, stronger, kinder.

And much more handsome.

“Ashley?” A deep voice echoed through the bookshop, confusion lacing her name. “Paisley?”

Ashley whirled around, her eyes widening at the man now standing in the doorway. Linsey. His gaze was narrowed, dangerously, at both of them.

Speak of the devil…and he shall appear.

Ashley had never felt such relief in her life.

And such trepidation.

*

He never imagined a throb could spread so widely through his chest. Thomas didn’t know what to think at the sight that met him after he entered the bookshop. When he returned from the post, after he’d sent the Archbishop of Canterbury a note, though he didn’t expect his family friend to deny him a special license, he thought a note with his seal could smooth the path since he hadn’t had time to visit him in person while in London. He thought of that word again: elopement.

He should have insisted on eloping.

Was Lady Ashley truly in cahoots with Paisley as Seb had alluded? It couldn’t be. And yet the sight of them standing side by side. Conversing in hushed voices…

No, do not lose your calm.

Calm and steady, just like facing two wild stallions.

Thomas strode over to the pair with long, purposeful steps and took a wide stance next to her, extending his arm. “Lady Ashley,” he said more firmly. The breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding escaped in a soft rush when she placed her gloved hand in his.

Her fingers squeezed his lightly.

Was that a squeeze of thanks? He glanced down at her and caught a fleeting vulnerability behind the bold exterior she presented to the world—to him. It was a crack, but enough to show there was something more beneath her composed facade. Something more delicate. Had Paisley said something to her?

Could that be it?

They weren’t in cahoots, but Paisley wanted to win the wager.

His eyes narrowed on the man.

“Linsey, what a coincidence to see you on such a lovely morning,” Paisley drawled through a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes “Shouldn’t you be training a racehorse or taming another—”

Thomas’s jaw tightened. “I could say the same about you, Paisley. It’s rather magnificent to run into you in town, in a bookshop…with my lady. Lady Ashley.”

He felt her head whip to him but didn’t take his gaze off Paisley, whose grin widened. “Ah, a mere coincidence, I assure you. When I saw your Lady Ashley enter, I thought you wouldn’t be far behind.”

Bastard. Thomas barely restrained the snarl curling in his throat.

He suddenly knew for certain; Ashley was not in cahoots with this man. Paisley had approached her with no good intention.

Paisley shrugged, his eyes flicking back to Ashley. “I was hoping to catch up with you, perhaps discuss inventory…”

Thomas’s back stiffened, his gaze locked on the duke. “We’re done here.” His tone left no room for argument. He cast one final look at Paisley, silently promising to settle things later.

Paisley’s parting shot stung like a hornet’s sting. “Does she know she’s risking her reputation for a man who might not give her the life she expects?”

Thomas’s stomach churned.

What the hell was Paisley on about?

Was he purposely trying to provoke him with nonsense? He looked down at Ashley, but her chin lifted slightly higher. He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze, letting her know he wasn’t shying away from this fight.

“Don’t expect a wedding invitation,” Thomas bit out, his hand pressing against her lower back. “Let’s go.”

Ashley nodded. Her entire posture screamed good riddance , and she followed without a backward glance.

“I’ll have to come back and finalize our transaction!” Paisley called after them.

Thomas flinched but didn’t stop. Damn that man. He didn’t take his wager lightly, but if Paisley thought he’d allow Paisley to chase Ashley away from him…

I’ll ruin him before that happens.

A wager was a wager, but approaching his bride?

Should he just ask to be let off? No, Paisley would never let him off and would only take grim satisfaction in his plea. And it was matter of honor. Plus, Paisley was not like Thomas, who had recently let a man off a wager after he had fallen to his knees before him in a pitiful sight.

“Mark my words, Thomas, your racing mares will be mine!”

You’ve already gambled your pride away, Paisley. I’m not going to forfeit my birthright to satisfy your idiotic gambling habit.

And certainly not Ashley.

“Let’s go,” he said and led Ashley away, gently tugging her hand.

Thomas slammed the door shut behind them with a sharp crack that echoed through the street. He led her around the corner, toward the stables, his thoughts racing.

Thomas felt the slight tug on his arm, a gentle resistance that slowed his steps. Ashley’s hand was warm in his, yet there was a hesitance in her grip, fingers loosely entwined with his own. As they moved down the narrow path, he noticed the soft scuffing sound of her feet against the gravel, a deliberate reluctance in each step.

He glanced at her. Not even the bright morning sun covering her in a crown of light could match the way her presence illuminated everything in him. The soft, silky ringlets escaping her coiffure framed her face in a halo of gold, making her look almost ethereal. Had he always found her this beautiful?

His thoughts spun in a swirl of poetic nonsense, and he cursed himself for it. He was hopelessly falling. Especially when she smiled up at him—those eyes, the same startling blue as the dress that clung to her figure in all the right places—he was lost.

Completely, utterly lost.

Until now, Thomas had regarded Ashley as suitable, agreeable, and—most importantly—available. A match that made perfect sense on paper. But right at that moment, something shifted. She wasn’t just suitable. She wasn’t just agreeable. She was a prize, a treasure he hadn’t realized he wanted so badly.

I truly fancy her .

He’d never been sentimental about his feelings, but realizing the depth of them in a bookshop, after catching her in the company of another man, felt like a cruel joke. Why hadn’t she told him she was going shopping?

She’s not a captive, Thomas . But still…

“Linsey?” Her voice cut through his thoughts, soft but pointed.

He suddenly stopped. “My apologies. Did you want a book from the bookstore?”

She shook her head.

Lady Ashley was more than he had ever hoped for, and he vowed, then and there, to protect her at all costs. What’s more, in her presence, he felt a sense of completion, a promise of a future filled with shared adventures.

He nodded and marched on. Her strides matched his now, but her voice softened. “Though I may be a mere transaction, my legs aren’t as long as yours.”

Thomas stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. “That…” he trailed off, searching for the right words. “Don’t take what he said to heart. You are not a transaction.”

Ashley glanced up at him, her posture resolute, but her eyes…her eyes told a different story. “But I am,” she said quietly. “Let’s not pretend otherwise. So are you, strictly speaking. However, our start is our start.”

Our start is our start.

He couldn’t deny that. In fact, he loved that.

And that cursed Paisley. He’d ruin the mood, but damn it, he wanted her to see his sincerity, his hope for their future. His hope for them.

“Ashley.”

Her gaze flickered with hesitation. “What he said about—”

Thomas stepped closer, cutting her off by placing a finger over her lips, his voice low. “Forget what Paisley said. Don’t pay him any heed.”

“But…” Her lips parted as if she wanted to say more, but the words didn’t come.

“No buts,” he said with a soft smile. “You promised me a ride.”

He would get her to his horses, bring his two loves together and away from Paisley.

No matter what.