Page 6 of Loving an Earl (Widows of Mayfair #1)

P ulling Lilly into his arms and rubbing her back as she sobbed into his chest had Edmund rethinking his knight-in-shining-armor behavior. Part of the reason he’d been cruel to her when they first met at Langford Manor—a reason he was only beginning to admit to himself—was that when she’d turned around and faced him for the first time, he had instantly wanted her. And he’d taken out his anger on her for his own inappropriate feelings.

He’d stayed in the country for so many months not just because there was work to do there, but because he’d been afraid to see her, knowing she was living in London with Emmeline. But he’d known he couldn’t stay away from London forever, even though he also knew he would run into her at most society functions throughout the Season. He’d vowed to himself he would do everything in his power to stay away from her, knowing all the while it would be impossible. And holding her warm, soft body in his arms now broke down his resolve to keep his distance. Her hands gripped the front of his jacket as though she never wanted him to let her go.

He fought the urge to hold her even closer when all he wanted to do was pull her tight against his body and kiss her until neither of them had breath left in their lungs. The last thing she needed was to feel his desire for her after what the duke said, and he had an inkling the duke had said more to her than she’d admitted. The blackguard had a reputation as being a brutal, sadistic fuck. Rumor had it he’d seriously injured more than one courtesan while playing his sexual games. But being a duke had its advantages. Since these incidents happened in brothels, people looked the other way. What was one less working courtesan?

Well, he would never get close to Lilly again. And if he did, Langford would call the duke out. It didn’t matter if duels were illegal; they still took place. And it would be worth risking the Regent’s wrath to keep her safe.

It took him a moment to realize Lilly wasn’t sobbing anymore. She stepped back from him, wiping her eyes with her gloved hands. “I’m sorry I cried all over you. I’m not usually a watering pot.”

He smiled into her lovely green eyes sparkling with unshed tears. He touched her cheek with a hand he was shocked to see trembling when he wiped away the tears she’d missed. “Don’t apologize.”

Losing himself in her eyes, feeling a pull he did not fight, he lowered his lips to hers and found nothing but air. She had stepped aside and was glaring up at him with a fury he had not yet seen in her expressions.

“If you meant to kiss me, then you are no better than the duke,” she cried out, her face red with anger, her eyes glaring like daggers. “I thought you said you were my protector!” She picked up her skirts, and exited the room, leaving him staring after her.

What the bloody hell ? He smoothed down his jacket, tugged on his cuffs and straightened his cravat. She was absolutely right to throw his words back at him. He’d tried to take advantage of her at a vulnerable moment—it was beastly and completely inappropriate. Perhaps he should spend time finding her a husband instead of lusting after his uncle’s widow.

When he entered the ballroom and found Blackstone standing alone, he inquired, “Where did the ladies go?”

Blackstone cocked a single brow. “You tell me. They took their leave quite suddenly. Care to elaborate on what caused the lovely countess, flustered and blushing, to insist they leave posthaste?”

Edmund huffed and hated himself even more when he felt the heat from his neck rise up his face. “Nothing.”

“You are a terrible liar.” He smacked him on the back. “Let’s go to White’s. I’m angry at you. I was enjoying my time being standoffish with Emmeline.”

*

At a dim room in the back of White’s, Edmund and Blackstone sat on comfortable chairs in front of a blazing hearth drinking brandy. Edmund stared into the swirling amber liquid in his glass. Nerves refused to let his hand be still, so around and around the glass and liquid went.

“Never has a man found the answers inside a glass of spirits,” Blackstone said as he stared at him.

“Don’t be so sure about that.” He stopped swirling the glass and took a healthy swallow. “Before you interrupted me, I believe I saw my future... bleak and lonely.”

“You are in a mood tonight, my friend. What’s bothering you?”

Edmund glanced around the room, making sure they were still alone. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “Besides the fact that I lust after my uncle’s widow?”

Blackstone chuckled and Edmund glared at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to find humor in the situation. But there’s no reason you can’t pursue the lady.”

“She hates me.”

His friend swung his head to him, his eyes alight with curiosity. “Do tell.”

“First, there’s how abominably I behaved toward her when we met last year. Then tonight—let us just say I pressed my advantage. Wrongly.”

“So that’s why she marched up to Emmeline and me in the ballroom, flushed and her eyes intent on murder, demanding to leave at once.” Blackstone downed his drink in one gulp. “A fine pair we make. I lust after the beautiful widow of one of my dearly departed friends, and you lust after your uncle’s widow. What did we do to bring the wrath of the Fates down upon us?”

“Here you two are,” Caldwell said as he dropped into an empty chair that one of White’s attendants pulled forth in a hurry. “Whisky, please.” A drink in his hand, he held it up. “Here’s to the London Season.” He took a deep pull and relaxed back in his chair. “Why the long faces?”

“We are a wicked lot. We are.” Edmund signaled the server. “Just leave the bottle.”

Caldwell lifted his brows, eyeing them both. “Speak for yourselves. I’ve never been wicked a day in my life.”

“Oh, come now.” Blackstone held up his empty glass and signaled Edmund to hand over the bottle. “You are the worst of us. At least Edmund and I lust after widows. You lust after... hell if I know. We have been away from London for so long that we’ve lost our touch.”

“Widows?” Caldwell asked, his brows raised. “What widows do I know?” He smirked. “Yes. I remember now. You, my friend Blackstone, have always desired Emmeline for yourself. There’s nothing standing in your way now. Aiden would be glad to know she found an honorable man—one who loves her.”

“I can’t entertain the thought. Besides, I have no honor,” Blackstone said with a frown. “If she ever found out the truth, she would hate me. I need to keep her at a distance.”

“As for Edmund.” Caldwell shrugged his shoulders. “What widow? Your uncle’s?”

“How did you...” Edmund choked out the words.

“I didn’t, just a guess.” Caldwell eyed his drink. “I’m feeling left out. Is there not another lovely widow to be had for me?”

The three gentlemen chuckled, none with lightness in their heart.

*

Aunt Vivian slept on the ride home. Emmeline sat across from her, lost in her own thoughts, which suited Lilly just fine. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened. But, she realized, she also wanted to confide in her. What was wrong with her?

Later, lying in bed, unable to sleep, she welcomed the knock on the door and the voice whispering. “Lilly. Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad,” Emmeline said as she entered and shut the door behind her. Without being invited, she crawled onto the other side of the bed, sitting up against the pillows. “I can’t sleep. Tell me what happened. Both with the Duke of Westport and Langford. Because I knew something had happened when you stomped into the ballroom demanding we leave. Not to mention the blush on your neck and face.”

Rearranging herself, Lilly sat up, leaning against the headboard, and sighed deeply. “I did not stomp. I was hurrying. Anyway.” She ran her fingers down her plaited hair, checking the ribbon keeping it secure. “The duke is a terrible man. He said lewd things to me and asked me to be his mistress.”

Emmeline inhaled deeply and said, “Sorry, I should’ve warned you. He did the same thing to me once.”

Lilly glared at her. “Why didn’t you say?”

“By the time I thought of it, he was asking for the dance.” She made a noise in the back of her throat that resembled a growl. “He is a wicked man. I feel bad for the duchess.”

“Don’t.” Lilly huffed. “She put the idea in his head.”

Emmeline stared at her, her mouth open in a wide O . “She didn’t.”

“I assure you she did. She told me so herself. I could almost feel sorry for her, except that she sent her depraved husband after me.”

“I’m shocked.” Emmeline paused, fluffing the pillows behind her back. “But at least that explains Westport. What about Langford?”

Langford. “He took me into an empty room to comfort me after dancing with the duke, which I might add, seems unlike Langford, but apparently he saw that I was upset. I cried all over his clothing while he vowed to protect me. Then he spoiled everything by trying to kiss me. What a hypocrite.”

Emmeline sighed. “The fool. I’m sorry your first ball didn’t go perfectly. And as for Langford, he is behaving unlike himself, now and last year—not at all like the Langford I used to know. I will hope he may yet come to his senses and improve.” Emmeline hugged her. “I’ll leave you to get some sleep. The good news is, we get to do all this again tomorrow. It’s sure to be better.”

Lilly closed her eyes, trying to sleep, but every time she did, the Duke of Westport’s face and Langford’s face flashed back and forth; she had to pop her eyes open to make the visions disappear. Struggling to keep her eyes wide open, she wondered if one could sleep that way.

*

As Lilly made her way to the morning room for breakfast, the sun shone in through the windows, putting a smile on her face. They’d had nothing but cold and rainy weather since the year began. If the weather held, perhaps they could take a ride in Hyde Park later in the day.

She fixed a plate with coddled eggs, sausages, and toast. With the help of a footman, she sat down at the empty table. Immediately, a hot cup of chocolate was placed in front of her. No sooner did she wonder what was taking Aunt Vivian and Emmeline so long to rise than they both entered the room. Aunt Vivian was chatting about last night’s ball, and Emmeline was smiling, making Lilly wonder what had made her cousin so happy this morning.

“Did you stop in the hall and see the flowers on the entry table?” Emmeline queried as she fixed a plate.

“I went through, but I never looked around. My stomach was growling something fierce, and all I could think about was eating. Why?”

“There are several bouquets of flowers and cards on the table. Blackstone sent me beautiful white roses with a card. He’s coming during afternoon tea.” She looked at Lilly and smiled. “There are also yellow roses and a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers, both cards addressed to you.” Emmeline produced the cards. “This is the roses card. Open it first.” Her eyes were wide with excitement.

Taking the card from Emmeline with trembling hands, she was afraid to find out who the roses were from—probably from the debauched duke. She broke the seal but didn’t recognize it, not that she would recognize any seal but the Langford one. Reading the card, her brows drew together as she tried to put a face to the name. “It’s from the Marquess of Hollingsworth.” She’d been introduced to several gentlemen last evening, but none were memorable other than the Dukes of Westport and Blackstone. “He will be calling on me today. Did I meet him?”

Emmeline and her mother exchanged looks. “He was in attendance last evening. You weren’t introduced to him, but obviously, you caught his eye,” Emmeline said. “He is thirty-five, most handsome, wealthy, and well-liked. His father recently passed, and he has inherited the title. I remember him well from my very first Season. All the debutantes vied for his affections. He stayed far away from them. I can only surmise he is hunting for a bride and an heir now that he’s inherited his father’s title and estates.” She paused and frowned. “I would be remiss if I didn’t mention there were rumors about him several years back. But the details are unknown to me and nothing came of it. At least, I don’t think so.”

“But why should he call on me?”

“Besides the fact you are beautiful?” Aunt Vivian added to the conversation.

“I suppose.” She broke the seal on the second card. A seal she knew well this time. Her insides shivered.

My Dearest Lilly,

Please forgive me for last night. There are no excuses for my behavior. I will call upon you today to discuss a list of suitable gentlemen seeking brides. I think it’s for the best.

Your Humble Servant,

Langford

“The pompous man,” she said out loud with a huff. “It’s from Langford. He’s calling on me today to discuss possible husbands for me. Does he think he can just marry me off?”

“No, my dear, of course you are entitled to your own choice,” Aunt Vivian’s soft, placating voice resonated in the modest room. “I’m quite convinced he means well. As his uncle’s widow, he feels responsible for you. You are still so very young. I’m sure he means to advise you so you aren’t taken advantage of by a fortune hunter or a man unworthy of you. He’s doing his duty to his uncle.”

“There’s no need. I can take care of myself. Make choices for myself.”

“This is your real first time in Society. I’m appalled to say there are members of the ton— gentlemen and ladies both—who would have no scruples in ruining you or taking advantage of your na?ve, young self.”

“I have both of you,” Lilly contradicted.

“Yes. You have us. But even ladies with protective families have fallen.”

“Enough, Mama,” Emmeline said. “She is a widow, and you know the rules are relaxed for her. Besides, I will be with her at all times. And Lilly is smart. Her father and Henry taught her well, as have we.”