Page 7 of Falling for the Earl (Improper Ladies #2)

S tone walls enclosed Lord Dorchester’s magnificent Mayfair mansion, which nestled in a lush garden filled with bright spring flowers. In the drawing room, Lucy sipped tea from a delicate floral cup while seated on a cream satin armchair opposite Lady Sarah and her mother, the Dowager Countess of Dorchester. Somewhere Lucy had never expected to find herself, even in her wildest dreams. She should have felt like a fraud. But Lord Dorchester knew the truth about her and could have refused to allow his sister to befriend her if he wished, and despite that, she was enjoying herself too much to care.

Lord Dorchester’s footman had taken a note to Aunt Mary and Mr. Beaufort had driven Lucy and Lady Sarah in his carriage to his lordship’s home. After which, disappointingly, Lord Dorchester and Mr. Beaufort had disappeared into the library.

Lucy felt the dowager countess’s gaze upon her and straightened her back. Was the elegant lady aware of the lie? Lucy must not think of it, or her hand would tremble. She carefully replaced her cup on its saucer. She was acutely conscious that she did not belong among these people. But Lady Sarah was so warm and reassuring, drawing Lucy into the conversation by recalling the sight of a very fat man on a small horse riding down the Row.

“ Sarah !” Lady Dorchester frowned. “You should not make fun of people.”

“But, Mama, he was whipping the poor horse.” She grinned at Lucy. “Miss Kershaw rode up to him and chastised him.”

The dowager countess turned to Lucy, eyebrows raised, no doubt thinking she lacked manners. “Sarah tells me you grew up in Bath, Miss Kershaw.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Do you still have family there?”

“Only my father.”

“I seem to remember meeting the Marquess of Berwick some years ago. The Kershaws hail from the far north. Might they be relatives of yours?”

Lucy tensed, fearing exposure. “Yes, they are distant relatives.”

The dowager countess nodded, then rose from her chair. “I’ll rest, Sarah, and take luncheon in my room. I’ll leave you to entertain your guest. Good bye, Miss Kershaw.” She nodded to Lucy and, looking thin and rather fragile, drifted from the room, her shawl trailing from her shoulders.

Lady Sarah watched her mother with concern darkening her eyes. “Mama has been unwell,” she said in a low voice. “She keeps better health in the country. Hugh wished for her to remain there and allow him to chaperone me. She should rest after our sojourn to Bath. But she does enjoy a little social life.” She stood. “Will you stay for luncheon?”

“My aunt will expect me at home,” Lucy said.

“No matter. We’ll send a message advising her of it.”

Why was Lady Sarah so intent on having her here? Perhaps it was because, as a new debutante, she lacked friends in London? It seemed difficult to believe. “Then I should like to have luncheon with you. Thank you, my lady.”

Lady Sarah pulled the bell rope.

Lord Dorchester and Mr. Beaufort joined them at a long table in the formal dining room. The walls in the room featured Delft blue floral wallpaper and swags of gold damask at the windows. Gilt-framed mirrors and paintings hung on the walls, and an impressive crystal chandelier hovered overhead.

Lucy enjoyed their company. Lady Sarah and her brother traded quips, talking about growing up in Kent, fascinating Lucy, and making Mr. Beaufort laugh.

“Bragging about your prowess as a mountaineer, you climbed the apple tree to fetch me the best apple, then fell and broke your arm.” Lady Sarah’s eyes filled with mirth.

“The branch broke.” His lordship cocked an eyebrow. “Such gratitude,” he remarked, but a smile tugged at his lips.

The brother and sister were obviously on very good terms. It made Lucy wish she’d had a sibling, but her mother had died before the family had grown any larger, and her father had never remarried. He had loved Mama dearly and put flowers on her grave every Sunday after church. How she missed him. Was he well? If he had lost money at card play, his spirits would plummet.

The spread surpassed the usual offerings at her aunt’s table. A platter of salad, cold meats, and chicken plus a selection of breads, cheeses, and exotic fruits. At the conclusion of the meal, footmen served aromatic coffee in the drawing room.

Lady Sarah put down her coffee cup. “Shall we play a game of shuttlecock?”

“On a full stomach?” Lord Dorchester leaned back in his chair, a hand on his flat stomach.

She grinned. “Sorry. I forgot you were almost in your dotage.”

“Right. I’ll partner you, Miss Kershaw,” her brother said promptly, nodding at Lucy. “I require your help to teach my impertinent sister a lesson.”

Lucy tried not to be nervous as they filed out into the spring sunshine. Servants set up the net on the small lawn. She had never played the game, but she’d certainly give it her best and hope not to disgrace herself.

Lucy quickly picked up the rules and discovered she had an aptitude for the game. After Lady Sarah had missed a shot, Lord Dorchester and Lucy were winning. Keen not to let her partner down, she lunged for the shuttlecock when it sailed over the net. She stumbled on the uneven grass and thudded down onto her bottom.

Lord Dorchester was at her side in an instant, concern in his eyes. “Are you all right, Miss Kershaw? You haven’t turned an ankle?”

“No, my lord,” she said, silently rebuking herself for her clumsiness.

His arm around her, he helped her to stand. His warm, clean male sweat and musky cologne lingered before he moved away. She was certain her face glowed like an oil lamp, and she took several quick breaths.

Lord Dorchester turned to the footman standing nearby. “Bring a glass of lemonade for Miss Kershaw.”

Lucy shook her head. “Really, I’m perfectly all right.”

“You look a little flushed,” Lady Sarah said. “A cool drink will help. Please bring lemonade for all of us, James.”

As Lucy apologized to Lady Sarah for spoiling their game, she caught the lady’s expression when she glanced at her brother. Shocked, Lucy recognized the gleam in her eyes as satisfaction. Was Lady Sarah attempting to bring her brother and Lucy together? But why? Did she not approve of his betrothed? Might she have heard the gossip about the inheritance and considered the supposed heiress a suitable bride for her brother? Lucy’s stomach twisted at the thought. But she could have been wrong. There was really no way of knowing why she’d been welcomed as if she were one of them.

The footman returned with a tray of lemonade and offered it around. Lucy sipped hers, glad of the cool drink. She wanted to hold the glass against her hot cheeks. It was a sunny day, but a fresh spring breeze stirred the leaves of the trees in the garden. “I must return home before Aunt Mary sends someone to find me.” She smiled shakily and returned the empty glass to the footman’s tray.

“I’ll take you,” Lord Dorchester said promptly.

“Yes, take good care of Miss Kershaw, Hugh,” Lady Sarah said. “A maid will accompany you. Shall we go in, Mr. Beaufort?”

“I’d best be getting along too,” he replied.

“Yes, of course.” Lady Sarah’s smile looked forced. “A footman will bring your carriage around.” It made Lucy regret having spoiled their game.

“I’ve enjoyed the day, and the company.” With a smile that rested for a moment on Lady Sarah, and a small bow, Mr. Beaufort left them.

Lucy considered him attractive, although somewhat restrained, and it was obvious Lady Sarah thought so too, for she was clearly disappointed that he hadn’t joined her, as she watched him climb into his carriage.

“Shall we see you at the Williams’ card party on Thursday?” Lady Sarah asked.

“I’m not sure of my aunt’s plans,” Lucy admitted. “But I hope to.”

“Do try to come,” Lady Sarah said as the carriage appeared. Lord Dorchester settled Lucy and the maid, whose name was Annie, into it, leaped aboard and took up the reins.

The matched pair of grays moved in unison over the cobbles as they continued down to Hyde Park Corner through the leafy Mayfair streets, past carriages and pedestrians in fashionable attire.

The traffic grew heavier, and they came to a stop as carriages, coaches and wagons tried to make their way through the narrow streets, the pavements crowded with pedestrians some of whom bravely attempted to cross the road.

As the carriage inched forward, they were held up again by a crossing sweeper.

Lord Dorchester turned to her, his blue gaze sweeping over her, the reins held lightly in his large, capable hands. “No discernable effects from your fall?”

She brushed her habit skirts. “Only a small grass stain and wounded pride.”

He laughed, then met another snarl in the traffic ahead as they entered St. James’s Park caught his attention. “Nonsense. You played very well,” he said when he turned back to her.

The difference between Aunt Mary’s townhouse and the earl’s mansion was considerable. Lucy must not forget that he came from a different world. Lucy glanced at his noble profile as he guided the horses around a sedan chair. She still couldn’t fathom why they had included her in their circle of friends, but she feared both Lady Sarah and her mother believed she was an heiress. There seemed no other reason. The truth of her simple upbringing in a small house with only two servants would surely shock them.

“Do you know of a Mr. Rattray?” Lucy hoped to learn more while in his company. She might not get the chance again.

He turned to look at her, his dark eyebrows raised. “I do, but not well. Why do you ask?”

“I think he plans to marry my aunt. I must confess I don’t like him, although I cannot say why.”

“There’s not much known about him, as he hails from Scotland,” he said. “Would you like me to find out more about him?”

She smiled, feeling foolish. “No, thank you. I am probably being unfair to him. And I could not interfere. My aunt seems lonely. I want her to be happy.”

He pulled up outside her aunt’s townhouse, tied off the reins and sat for a moment, looking at her. “You’re a sympathetic soul, Miss Kershaw.”

She flushed under his scrutiny. “Actually, my father says I’m too outspoken.”

The warm expression in his eyes couldn’t possibly have been desire.

His gaze drifted to her mouth and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her, her pulse thudding. Surely, he wouldn’t kiss her with the maid looking on. While she wanted him to with all her heart, she knew it was wrong. He was betrothed. But the impulse was so strong, she feared if he did, she would not push him away.

She held herself still as he trailed a finger along her jaw, then with an intake of breath, turned away and the moment passed.

He jumped from the phaeton and came around to her. Reaching up, he lifted her down. For a moment, she stopped breathing as her breasts brushed against the hard wall of his chest. A hot tingle shot through her nipples. He placed her on her feet and stepped away. Very much aware of him, Lucy couldn’t look up, fearing what she would see in his eyes would echo her feelings. He belonged to another and there was the scandal hanging over her head. If anything happened between them, she could only hurt him as well as herself.

She sensed the strength in him, when he clasped her hand to help her negotiate the step and walked with her to the door.

He rapped the door knocker, then stood back from her and cleared his throat. “I must apologize to your aunt for keeping you so long.”

“No, please don’t bother,” she said, her voice sounding strained. Aunt Mary would read too much into it. It would be hard enough for her to make light of her friendship with Lady Sarah, as it was. If her aunt suspected an attraction existed between Lord Dorchester and herself, the fuss it would cause! Lucy would be forced to return to Bath.

She watched the play of emotions on his face, mirroring hers, then he turned swiftly away. “Good bye, Miss Kershaw.”

“Good bye. And thank you,” she called after him. Her heart still beating too fast, she remained to admire his lean, athletic body as he jumped effortlessly back into the phaeton. He turned his magnificent horses in a neat half circle and continued back along the road. Lucy felt a little shaky. As if something monumental had happened. If he had kissed her, it could mean only one thing. He wanted her for his mistress. She wasn’t sure how she would have responded. Being with him made her feel safe, despite her common sense telling her there was no such thing as safety and certainly not with a man about to marry someone else. She considered being a mistress beneath her and hoped he would never ask her. It would ruin her good opinion of him.

As she entered the house, the clasp of his long-fingered hand lingered, warm and strong. Would she see him again? It had been wonderful to spend those few hours with him and Lady Sarah. But this only made it harder to forget him when faced with the harsh reality of her past, which must soon catch up with her.

In low spirits, Lucy entered the drawing room, and saw her cousin Anabel seated on the sofa with a box of chocolates in her lap. A pretty, plump young woman with a round face, light-brown hair, and blue eyes, her gaze sharp as she greeted Lucy.

Lucy sat beside her. “How nice to see you at last, Anabel. Where is Aunt Mary?”

“Mr. Rattray has driven her to the park,” Anabel said, taking in Lucy’s clothes. “You are wearing my old habit. The material is of excellent quality, but the military style will go out of fashion now the war had ended.”

“I am grateful for it, Anabel. Thank you.”

Anabel popped a chocolate between her small, rosebud lips. “That blue is better suited to someone with blue eyes,” she said as she chewed. “You would look better in green.”

Lucy resisted asking her if she had an old green one to offer.

“I was often told how flattering blue was for my coloring,” Anabel continued. “My new habit is sky-blue and the very latest fashion. Although I rarely ride since I married.”

“I am looking forward to meeting your husband.”

Her cousin’s mouth pulled down in a sulk. “Howe is always very busy. He’s in parliament, you know.”

“Yes. I did…”

“He’s very much respected.”

“I’m sure he is.” Lucy rose, anxious to bring this uncomfortable conversation to an end. “I must go up and change.”

“You missed luncheon. I came expecting to see you.”

“I’m sorry.” Lucy forced a smile. “I went riding with Lady Sarah Fairburn and Lord Dorchester in Rotten Row and had luncheon with them at his home.”

“How fancy,” Anabel said flatly. She stood, and ordering the skirts of her pink-and-white-striped morning gown, crossed to the mirror over the fireplace. She peered into it, wiping chocolate from her mouth with her handkerchief.

“We can talk more when I come down.” Lucy waited for an answer at the door.

Still at the mirror, Anabel said, “I doubt I’ll be here. I’m going to Bond Street to buy a new bonnet.”

Lucy smiled. “Trying on hats is fun.”

“What is Lord Dorchester like?” Anabel asked as Lucy opened the door.

Everything in a man a woman would wish for. “Kind, and generous.”

“He must be,” Anabel called after her. “To have invited you into his home.”

Rolling her eyes, Lucy shut the door and climbed the stairs, thinking how much nicer Jane was than her sister. But something was amiss with Anabel. She’d looked quite miserable when her husband’s name was mentioned.

Lucy put a hand on her chest to slow her breathing. Love made one so vulnerable and often seemed to cause heartache rather than happiness. She frowned and tried to tamp down her impossible attraction to Lord Dorchester.

*

When Hugh arrived home, his thoughts remained on Miss Kershaw. Her fresh, lily of the valley scent, how her curvy body had felt beneath his hands at the park when he’d assisted her onto her horse. And again while driving her home. How her eyes had gazed into his, seeking advice. That he desired her was no surprise. But the force of it was. Being close to her set his blood afire. Hugh wanted to gather her into his arms, to kiss her lush lips and chase the worry and uncertainty from her eyes. While he couldn’t do that, he did intend to make inquiries about Mr. Rattray, whom he felt sure was not as he appeared.

When he walked into the house, Sarah hovered in the hall. She smiled brightly at him. “A pleasant day, was it not?”

“Indeed.”

She followed him to the library. “I find Mr. Beaufort interesting. He has lovely manners.”

Hugh fought not to smile as he opened the library door. “He’s a genuinely decent man. Come in and have a glass of ratafia.”

Once he’d poured their drinks, he sat and turned the subject to Miss Kershaw. “You seem taken with her, Sarah.”

“I like her very much. She is not top-lofty at all for an heiress.”

“Where did you hear that bit of gossip?”

She frowned. “A woman at the ball told me. Why?”

He groaned inwardly. It appeared the gossip had spread through London. “It’s merely a rumor. I doubt it’s true, as Miss Kershaw herself denies it.”

“Oh.” Sarah shrugged. “I still like her.”

“Good.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And you do too, do you not?”

“There is nothing to dislike,” he said cautiously.

“You were keen to drive her home,” she said with a sly smile.

He handed her the glass of ratafia and turned back to the sideboard to pour himself a glass of Madeira. “Should I have asked her to walk?”

She laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“Miss Kershaw is comely, and being betrothed doesn’t render a fellow blind.”

As Hugh took a seat, his sister frowned. “How are things between you and Miss Ashton?”

“Not as good as I would like. I have a problem I’m not sure how to deal with.”

“What is it?”

Hugh contemplated whether it was a good idea to disclose what he had witnessed. It was not something he would have done previously. He had never expressed his feelings openly. He thought that his emotions were less intense than most people’s because of his upbringing. Gentlemen were taught from an early age to appear aloof from unruly emotions. And while he had sought out women he’d found attractive, he’d never developed deep feelings for any of them.

He and Miss Ashton had been neighbors since childhood. Could he have let her down by failing to pursue her passionately? Had a vicar answered her need for more than Hugh had been prepared to give?

It was surprising, but since meeting Miss Kershaw, his views on life seemed to have changed. She’d given him a glimpse of what might be. And he would very much like to have it for himself.

Hugh pushed those unsettling thoughts away. It didn’t matter what he might come to feel for Miss Kershaw with her passionate soul. He had to at least attempt to win Miss Ashton’s affections and accept their marriage as his future.

As he considered telling Sarah, he finished his wine. She could exhibit sound good sense. And she was the only one he could discuss this with. They needed airing, for doubts had crept in. Was he wrong about the scene in the church? Had he understood Miss Ashton and the vicar to be closer than they actually were?

“The vicar?” Sarah looked astonished after he’d described what he’d seen. “It sounds odd to me that she would undertake such a task. It’s my understanding that older or married ladies arrange the flowers for the church.”

“Miss Ashton denied anything occurred. But if she cares for the vicar, it explains her reluctance to come to London for the Season.”

“What about her parents? Wouldn’t they urge her to make her debut?”

“She is to attend the queen’s drawing room in July. But I suspect Sir Phillip and Lady Ashton prefer her to remain in the country until then. Her mother is keen for her to live close by. And if Miss Ashton comes to London, who knows what might happen?”

“What a mess.” Sarah raised her glass to her lips. “You should extricate yourself from the betrothal. Since you were never involved in the decision, it wouldn’t be seen as unethical. Besides, few people in London are aware of it. There may be vague rumors, but you’ve made no official announcement. And Miss Ashton has yet to come out.”

“But what would happen to Miss Ashton should I renege on the promise made between her father and mine? Her parents will be furious, not only with me, but also with her.” He shook his head. “It would not be honorable.”

Sarah shrugged. “She can marry her vicar. Not everyone is well suited to handle a countesses’s responsibilities.”

“If only it were that simple.” Hugh finished his wine and put down the glass. He must talk to Miss Ashton. Convince her they would be happy together, although he had yet to convince himself of it. “If Mama is well enough to remain in London as your chaperone, I’ll drive down to Kent.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “This conversation with Miss Ashton is long overdue.”

“I’m sure Mama will be pleased, should you tell her. It will relieve her, in fact. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she gets plenty of rest.”

Hugh nodded. “I’ll leave the day after the Williams’ card party. You can attend that party with me.”

Sarah’s eyes brightened. “I may play cards?”

“Yes, but don’t lose all my money.”

She glared at him. “I intend to win.”

“Not so easy among those seasoned players.”

“Ye of little faith,” she scoffed.

He wondered what Miss Ashton would have to say. She had denied anything was wrong. But it hadn’t been a forceful denial. Would she wish to continue as before? Or was she prepared to be honest and work with him to end it? Her parents must take into consideration her chance for a happy future, as well as his.

Hugh gritted his teeth. It had never been his wish to enter into an arranged marriage. While he must produce an heir at some point, love was the only reason to tie oneself down for life to one woman. And he’d prefer the freedom to choose her himself.