Page 22 of Dare to Tempt an Earl This Spring (Wedding Fever #1)

H ow he managed to bathe and dress for dinner, he didn’t remember. Only that it was as fast as possible so he could get back to his Ashley. There were guests at his table and yet Thomas snuck a glance at her, still in a daze.

The crystal chandeliers cast a warm, honeyed glow over the dining room, illuminating the finest—if slightly outdated—china that adorned the long mahogany table, one of the many family heirlooms. His heart thrummed with a wishful intensity. He wanted to reach across the table, take Ashley’s hand, and lead her through every part of his world: the castle, its heirlooms, the history within its walls. If she would be his wife, he wanted her to have free rein over it all—his household, his fortune, his heart.

His body…

From where he sat at the head of the table, Ashley to his right, if he inched his leg forward a bit, he might touch her slipper. His composure was a thin mask barely holding back the storm inside. He could still feel her lips, taste her passion, and the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. Every breath drew him back to that moment, the memory of it throbbing through him like a rhythm he couldn’t escape. He dared not look at her too closely, yet he was painfully aware of her presence beside him, her gaze fixed firmly on her plate, her cheeks touched with a damning shade of crimson.

He suppressed another sigh and willed his member to stay hidden under the napkin on his lap as the first course was served.

The first course, a velvety cream of mushroom soup, was placed in front of him. He stared at it blankly, unable to muster an appetite for anything that wasn’t Ashley. Every flicker of her hand, every shift of her posture stirred a need in him, one that clung stubbornly to the quiet yet consuming wish she might share the same hunger for him.

He tugged at his cravat.

He glanced at her again, yet all her attention was trained on her soup. Her friends, Charlene and Sera, kept exchanging glances, their expressions sharp and vigilant, as though they could decode all the unspoken nuances between him and Ashley. It was the kind of silent looks only women seemed capable of, one that always left men feeling slightly adrift.

Sebastian, who sat at the other end of the table, glanced between him and Lady Ashley, arching a brow. “The Ascot is upon us soon,” he said, drawing all eyes to him.

Thomas sent a silent thanks to his friend.

“Prinny himself will be there, along with Baron Gregory Stone and many other illustrious figures,” Sebastian declared, his voice rich with enthusiasm. “The carriages are being prepared as we speak, and the entire staff is bustling about.”

The word “carriage” seemed to strike a nerve in Ashley. She blinked rapidly, her lashes fluttering as though to cool the crimson that had crept up to her cheeks.

He bit back a grin, half-tempted to let her know that he was thinking exactly the same thing. How was he supposed to concentrate on small talk when every breath he took was filled with her scent? Beneath the table, his hand hovered near hers, fingers inching forward. The anticipation was almost unbearable, and when his fingers finally brushed hers, she withdrew quickly with a heated look that could have melted iron.

He chuckled, and when all eyes turned to him, he cleared his throat. “Indeed, the Royal Ascot promises to be quite the spectacle.”

“You’re uncharacteristically subdued tonight, Thomas,” Sebastian noted, lounging at the opposite end of the table. “Normally you’d be chattering on about the Ascot uninterrupted.”

Thomas’s gaze flicked to Ashley, whose color deepened under the scrutiny. “Just…not very talkative tonight,” he murmured, his voice trailing off as he sent a brief glance to Ashley, sipping her soup.

“Lord Cambridge,” Charlene said suddenly, eyeing the marquess with mock suspicion. “Is the Ascot really the pinnacle of British tradition or just an excuse for everyone to gather and make fools of themselves over hats?”

“Oh, it’s both, my lady.” Sebastian grinned, sweeping his arm out as if explaining something grand. “Picture it: the pageantry, the prestige, the unspeakable hats. It’s like every good story—a bit of honor, a bit of embarrassment, and a lot of horse smell.”

Ashley, quietly setting her spoon down, mumbled, “And bets, lots and lots of bets.”

Miss Sera cleared her throat. “Let us ladies stick to hats.”

Lady Charlene nodded. “Do I need something positively daring? Or do I go for understated charm?”

Sera grinned. “The Ascot is all about standing out. If your outfit is too understated, no one will remember a thing about you.” She caught Thomas’s eye, adding with a playful wink, “And if there’s one thing our Ashley knows, it’s how to make an impression.”

Sebastian chuckled, casting a fond glance at Ashley. “Ah, yes, she certainly does. She’ll fit right in, no doubt.”

Ashley returned his smile. “You mentioned the carriages were being readied?”

Sebastian nodded. “Yes, we leave in two days.” He turned to Thomas with an arched brow. “I thought you’d have been informed.”

Thomas cleared his throat, his voice a touch gruff. He offered a sheepish smile. “My apologies. It slipped my mind.” Like so many damn other things.

But he could still make it right, in his own way. If his luck held and he won at Ascot, he could return not just with the thrill of victory, but with something real to offer her. An actual ring and a name for the new foal— her foal.

He would gift her Lady Ash.

Sebastian’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Well, it’s only natural for one’s thoughts to scatter in the face of marriage, I suppose. Have you set a date? Your birthday is in a month, no?”

Thomas glanced a warning look at his friend. “We’ll set a date after the Ascot. Hopefully, I’ll have word of our special license by then as well.

Thomas resisted a smile, glancing at Ashley as she politely fended off Sera’s questions about dresses and hats, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. More than a grand affair, he thought, his heart thudding. This was about more than tradition or titles. This was about the future he was ready to build—a future he could almost taste, and one he wasn’t about to let slip through his fingers.

After their moment in the carriage, he sensed she wanted it as much as he did.

So, why did a sliver of unease settle right in the pit of his stomach?

*

After dinner had been cleared and Ashley had managed to not even drink the wine, so uneasy was her stomach, Ashley ushered her friends into the drawing room with an urgency she hadn’t felt since the day she’d heard the Earl of Linsey had come to London in search of a wife. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as she shut the door firmly behind them. The men’s casual chatter about the Royal Ascot had unearthed a plan she’d all but forgotten: the scheme to sabotage his victory, a scheme left in Maddie’s daring hands.

“The race!” Ashley blurted, her voice barely contained.

Sera’s brow crept upward. “Yes, what of it?”

Ashley leaned closer, her tone dropping to a whisper. “Maddie! Have you forgotten ? She’s going to slip Linsey’s jockey some sort of sedative or other to keep him off the track!”

“Oh,” Sera murmured, appearing utterly unfazed as she adjusted her skirts and glided toward the cherrywood table. “That.”

Charlene crossed her arms, her brow creased. “Why are you so frantic? Don’t tell me…” Her eyes widened. “Dear heavens, Ashley, you have grown that soft on him?”

“I knew it,” Sera said. “I knew it was much deeper than you expressed when we arrived.”

Ashley’s cheeks flushed. “We have to call it off,” she insisted, ignoring the insinuation.

“Call it off?” Sera shook her head, pouring herself a glass of port. “Impossible. Like your Lord Cambridge said, the race is only two days away, and Maddie is heaven knows where by now. We can’t reach her in time.”

“She’s right, Ashley,” Charlene added, though her voice was tinged with regret. “The only way to prevent it now is to track Maddie down ourselves.”

Dear Heavens! What happens if they fail?

No.

You can’t think that way, Ashley.

They wouldn’t fail. They would attend the race, stop the plan, and Thomas would never be the wiser. If he didn’t win, it wouldn’t be because of her. They’d find Maddie before any damage was done.

Ashley exhaled sharply, pacing the room. “We’ll have to go to the Ascot and deal with it then. We can intercept Maddie there and put a stop to this madness before anyone’s the wiser.”

Charlene touched her shoulder reassuringly. “You’re in deep with this man, aren’t you?”

Her heart panged at the question, and she swallowed. He’d not gotten as deep as she longed and yet the feelings for him had spread wider than she’d admit. “It’s not about that—at least not entirely,” she replied, though her voice lacked its usual conviction. “There are too many things that are not as they seem.”

Her own feelings included.

Sera handed her a glass of port. “Nothing we can do tonight. We might as well enjoy ourselves.”

Ashley took the glass and downed it in one go, earning two raised brows from her friends. She poured herself another, hoping it might ease the knot of guilt twisting inside her. How was she supposed to enjoy a dark cloud hovering over her head? “This whole ordeal, this thing with Jordan,” she muttered. “It’s brought me nothing but trouble.”

“And yet, it brought you to the earl, too,” Sera observed, watching her closely. “Tell us, how did he win you over?”

Ashley started, caught off guard. “Does it matter?”

Charlene’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Only that you’ve gone from determined revenge to something else entirely. It must have been quite a shift.”

Ashley hesitated, searching for the right words. How had he won her over? She couldn’t isolate a single thing. It was everything, all at once. Their conversations, his quick wit, the ease between them, even the small sarcastic jabs. It was his smile, the warmth in his eyes when he spoke of his horses, and his maddening, impossible way of thinking.

Just him. Simply… him.

“Ashley, speechless?” Charlene teased. “Now, that’s truly remarkable.”

Ashley threw her friend a look, lips quirking. “I’m not speechless. I’m thinking.”

Sera tilted her head with a knowing smile. “Isn’t that precisely what ‘speechless’ means?”

“Thinking in silence,” Charlene chimed in with a grin.

“Exactly,” Sera said, barely hiding her amusement. “But please, don’t let us interrupt. We’re fascinated to hear about the man who unraveled our Ashley.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Well, since you seem so eager…he just, well, he just feels right.”

Everywhere. In her heart and body.

Sera chuckled, swirling her port. “That’s rather sweet for someone who once declared revenge was her sole purpose in life.”

“Don’t remind me.”

This was what a person got who set out for revenge it seemed. She didn’t even want to imagine what Thomas might think if he ever learned why she approached him. Would he resent her? His reaction made her grasp at anything other than confessing. But, the fact remained, the Duke of Richmond already knew, so it was just a matter of time before the earl discovered the truth.

She had to beat the duke to an admission.

And what better time than after averting this current crisis with the races. Once his horse took to the tracks, she would confess to why she approached him, Jordan, and ask him about the wager. And then to hope against all hopes their chances weren’t ruined.

Because, despite all odds, she had fallen in love with the man.

Deeply, and dangerously so.

“In any event,” Charlene murmured. “We’ll just have to ensure Maddie doesn’t succeed in ruining your beau’s race and that will be that.”

“Save the day in silly big hats.”

“Perhaps mine should be large enough to conceal a catapult for emergency measures,” Sera suggested, feigning seriousness.

“Or maybe a feather stole for dramatic flair!” Charlene chimed in, waving her hands theatrically.

“Just remember,” Sera said with a grin, “if we need to make a hasty escape, hats off to the fastest runner!”

Ashley smiled gratefully, her determination rekindling. “Ascot it is, then. Linsey will never know a thing if we have anything to say about it.” She looked between her friends, a spark of renewed purpose lighting in her breast. “We’ll find Maddie, set things right, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll find the courage to tell him the truth.”

The words echoed in her mind, mingling with the thrill of the plan. Whatever happened, she would face it all, consequences be damned.