Page 7 of Loving an Earl (Widows of Mayfair #1)

D aisy helped Lilly prepare for her afternoon visitors. Lilly chose a pretty, soft-blue muslin day dress with matching slippers and wrap, should she get chilled. Daisy prepared her hair in a simple coil with several wisps dangling on either side of her face to soften the look. Knowing she wouldn’t get any more presentable, she went down the stairs to the drawing room to find Emmeline and Aunt Vivian sitting and awaiting the day’s callers. Lilly sat beside Emmeline on the dark-blue settee, which perfectly complemented her dress. Emmeline wore a lovely shade of pink, and Aunt Vivian wore deep green and a fashionable turban in the same shade.

“I’m nervous,” Lilly said to them as she adjusted her skirts and then clasped her hands together on her lap. “I’ve never received visitors, unless you count when I received friends and villagers to my father’s house or Henry’s. This is different.” So very different. She had never been so nervous in all her life. Well, excluding her wedding night. Or perhaps when she met Edmund for the first time...

The butler, Harrison, entered the room and announced, “His Grace, the Duke of Blackstone. The Earl of Langford.” After the formalities and greetings were concluded, the gentlemen sat in two of three chairs facing the settee. Aunt Vivian sat in a chair next to the settee.

Lilly didn’t know how she felt seeing Langford today after crying all over him and his near kiss at the Westport ball. She would admit, though, he looked handsome in his dark-brown riding clothes. Her fingers fluttered to her lips and her cheeks warmed as she thought about their almost kiss. Her eyes glanced at him and she found him staring at her intently. His expression was unreadable. Immediately she lowered her gaze and her traitorous heart beat a fast staccato.

“Did you like the flowers I sent?” Langford asked her as he tugged on his cravat.

Was he nervous? “Yes. I love wildflowers. I used to pick them all the time in the fields near Langford Manor.”

“Indeed. They are plentiful there. Do you miss Kent?”

Her heart pained at thinking about growing up there. “Yes. I spent my entire life there until Henry died. I can’t help but miss it.”

“I’m sorry. You can stay at Langford Manor, you know. I will be living in London for the most part, now that I have the estate business in hand. You can have the manor all to yourself if you’d like.”

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she blinked them away. Why was he being nice to her? “Thank you. It is good to know I can visit at any time.”

The tea tray arrived, and thankfully, Aunt Vivian offered to serve. Lilly didn’t think her fingers would work. She could hardly take the cup and saucer handed to her without them clattering. Instead of risking drinking her tea, she placed it on the low table in front of her with more clattering. Lilly sat perched on the edge of the settee, mindful of her posture, and nibbled on a sweet biscuit, hoping someone would speak so she wouldn’t have to continue conversing with Langford. She wasn’t used to him being kind or thoughtful and it was unsettling to her.

“How lovely you look today, Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” said Blackstone as he sipped his tea. The cup was swallowed by his large hands.

“Thank you, Your Grace. The weather is warm today. We are going to take a ride in Hyde Park later.”

“Langford and I were just discussing that on our way here. Our horses could use the exercise.” He nodded his head and smiled. “Perhaps we will see you.”

His gaze shifted and lingered a moment on Emmeline. How Blackstone looked at Emmeline with his haunting green eyes almost had Lilly swooning. Except they were haunting in a sad and vulnerable way. What must Emmeline be thinking and feeling? She glanced at her to find Emmeline studying the duke.

The butler returned and announced, “The Marquess of Hollingsworth.”

As greetings and, in her case, introductions were made, she studied the newly arrived gentleman. Emmeline had spoken truthfully when she said he was handsome. He stood tall, filling out his brown and tan riding clothes quite well. He had chestnut, wavy hair and kind, chocolate-brown eyes. When he took Lilly’s hand and bowed, his smile was devastating. She had the feeling many ladies had swooned when they’d found themselves the recipient of that smile. She could see at a glance he was the very definition of a rakehell, and she had best lock up her heart.

Hollingsworth sat, his hat dangling from one hand. “It’s nice to see you, Blackstone, Langford. Congratulations to you both on your inheritance. But also condolences on your losses. It’s been a long time since you both graced London with your presence. Do I understand you are back to stay?”

“Yes.” Blackstone also held his hat. “I won’t be sailing off to the West Indies or anywhere else.”

“Neither will I,” Langford added. “Caldwell will handle most of the traveling. Although Blackstone and I will spend plenty of time at our warehouse, no doubt.”

“You three have a gold mine in that company of yours. Too bad I didn’t have the foresight to have invested with you.”

Did the Marquess’s words mean he was short on coin? Was that why he was calling on her? Did he need to marry a wealthy woman, such as herself, or a debutante with a large dowry because his coffers were empty? Lilly hoped not because, honestly, he intrigued her, rakehell or not.

Although he had no knowledge of her trust from Henry. Nobody did but her and Mr. Beauregard. Not even Langford knew. So technically, as far as anyone knew, the only money she had came from the earldom. She was not a rich woman in her own right. He could not need to marry for funds if he was calling on her.

After the proper visiting time was over, Lilly found herself sad when all three gentlemen bid farewell. Langford never broached the subject of a husband for her, thankfully. After their conversation when he’d first arrived, he became quiet and serious for the remainer of his visit. But she knew it was only putting off the inevitable.

“My, the marquess certainly is a handsome devil,” Aunt Vivian said with a blush. “If only I were twenty years younger.”

“Mama!” Emmeline gasped. “What a thing to say.”

“I speak the truth. What did you think of Hollingsworth, Lilly?”

Before she could respond, she smiled and felt her cheeks warm. “He is definitely the most handsome man I’ve ever encountered. But I wonder if he has a serious bone in his body, as his eyes shone with amusement the entire time he was here. And I got the feeling it wasn’t just for our benefit. He enjoyed getting under Langford’s and Blackstone’s skin with his jesting.”

Emmeline’s eyes studied her, and Lilly squirmed under the scrutiny. “I have heard there’s more to the man than just another pretty face and affable personality. I think he would be perfect for you.”

Lilly didn’t know about that. She could see herself spending time with him, getting to know the real Hollingsworth. “I hope he calls upon me again.”

“He will,” Aunt Vivian said confidently.

*

“Who do you think Hollingsworth is interested in?” Blackstone queried as he and Langford entered the crowd in Hyde Park on horseback.

Edmund frowned. The answer to that question was very much on his mind. “We should have asked.”

“And look jealous?” Blackstone laughed. “Are you out of your bloody mind?”

“Perhaps he called upon Lilly, and with any luck, he will propose, and I will no longer feel responsible for her. Or anything else for her. I could wipe my hands clean of her, knowing he would be kind to her. I can get on with my life without her haunting my dreams at night.”

“I don’t think that’s what you want. Think very carefully before you encourage this match. Remember the rumors from years past?”

Damn Blackstone for his intuition and his memory. Of course it wasn’t what he wanted, but helping her find a match was the right and honorable thing to do. He would bury his lust and desires for Lilly. Perhaps he would take a mistress to help slake his need. And bloody hell, he’d forgotten about Hollingsworth and the rumors surrounding his sexual preferences. Perhaps he wasn’t the gentleman for Lilly after all. Hollingsworth had never refuted the rumors, but they were never proven true, either. He could still be a good match for Lilly. Only time would tell.

“Rotten Row is a crush today. If we go at this slow pace, we’ll never make it around the park until midnight.” Blackstone complained. He led his horse to the right of the path, his eyes and his horse’s nose trained ahead.

“Tell me you are not looking for Emmeline?” Edmund eyed his friend who looked agitated sitting stiff and tall in his saddle.

“What if I am? Not that it matters. She deserves someone better than me.”

“You could just bed her and get her out of your system,” Langford suggested.

Blackstone’s head whipped around, and he glared daggers at him. “If I weren’t on horseback, I’d punch you for disrespecting her.”

Langford had never heard his friend so cross. “Apologies.”

“How would you like it if I spoke about Lady Langford that way?”

How would he? “Point taken—you’re right. Do you see them?”

“No.” He glanced over his shoulder and watched as Blackstone grimaced and mumbled something under his breath. “The blackguard! Here comes Hollingsworth sitting like a peacock on his mount. So help me, God, if he’s after my Emmeline...”

Edmund was shocked at Blackstone. He looked positively ready to murder someone—that someone being most likely the marquess. Edmund told himself that he hoped Hollingsworth was interested in Lilly for his friend’s sake, but it was a lie and the pain in this chest proved it. It would be even worse, though, if Hollingsworth’s affections were for Emmeline. He’d hate to see his friend lose Emmeline to another man again, regardless of what Blackstone said about being wrong for her. If it hadn’t been for their friend, Fitzpatrick, Blackstone and Emmeline would have been married ten years now.

When they’d been wet behind the ears and all of nineteen, both Fitzpatrick and Blackstone had fallen hard for Emmeline, who was eighteen at the time. There were times Edmund had worried for their friendship. As the Season had progressed toward summer that year, Blackstone had eased off when he witnessed how much Fitzpatrick loved her. They’d married that autumn and had four wonderful years together before the tragic riding accident took Fitzpatrick’s life. Another six years had gone by now, and Edmund thought it was high time Blackstone made his move and married the woman he’d never stopped loving.

Hollingsworth caught up to them. “Gentlemen.” He tipped his hat. “May I join you?”

“Only if you tell us which lady you are interested in,” Edmund said, causing Blackstone to snort. Edmund looked at Blackstone and shrugged one shoulder. He had to ask. He hated seeing his friend twisted up in knots.

The marquess chuckled. “Perhaps I was merely paying a social call with no ulterior motive.” He looked at both men with a grin Edmund wanted to wipe off his face with a slap from his gloved hand.

“If we weren’t in public . . .” Blackstone threatened.

Hollingsworth chuckled, not the least bit bothered. “If you must know, I called upon the countess. And please tell me you both are not vying for Mrs. Fitzpatrick’s favors. We don’t need history repeating itself.” He had the nerve to look concerned as though he really cared one way or another.

“No,” Blackstone said, his posture now relaxed and a grin on his face.

Good for him. But Edmund’s insides jumbled up like someone was scrambling eggs. Deep inside his mind, he knew this could be a favorable thing. Hollingsworth would make Lilly an advantageous match, sans the rumors—rumors he should set aside some time to look into, just to be sure.

“You have my permission to court her.” Bloody hell, had he just blurted that out before he’d genuinely convinced his heart, mind, and body it was the proper thing to do?

Hollingsworth laughed. “I don’t think I need it. She is a widow, after all.”

Edmund glared at Hollingsworth, daring him to question him again. “She is my uncle’s widow, therefore my responsibility. Forget her status as a widow and treat her as a debutante. She is, after all, only nineteen, and I will not have you ruining her reputation.”

“For the love of God,” Hollingsworth snapped. “She’s been married. She’s not innocent. Don’t you think that allows her certain freedoms?”

“Normally.”

The marquess didn’t look happy, but he huffed. “Fine.” His features softened and he looked at Blackstone. “I wouldn’t wait long before making your intentions known to Mrs. Fitzpatrick. I heard several gentlemen discussing her last evening, and nothing they said involved marriage. Since you both have been out of the country, I’ll let you in on a secret—there’s been a wager on the books at White’s for several years now on how long it will take to get her into someone’s bed.”

Blackstone growled.

“Relax, Duke, I don’t believe she has looked at any man since Fitzpatrick died. I think she’s been waiting for you to come to your senses and return to England. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He lifted his hat, turned his horse around and rode off carefully picking his way through the crowd.

“That was enlightening,” Edmund said as Hollingsworth rode off.

“Where the hell are the ladies?” Blackstone looked livid. “And when I get my hands on that blasted book at White’s, I’m tearing those pages out and tossing them into the fire. Nobody will ever win that bet because the point will be moot. No bet will exist. I’m a bloody duke now, and nobody will dare question me.”

*

“Do you see them?” Emmeline asked Lilly as they rode in an open-air carriage. Their driver went along slowly behind other carriages and riders on horseback.

“No, but I caught a glimpse of Hollingsworth.”

“Hmmm.”

Lilly felt herself blush. “Don’t hmmm me. It was an observation, nothing else.”

“I’m positive Blackstone said he was riding this afternoon. Perhaps we missed them,” Emmeline said as she moved her head from side to side, scanning the park.

“I have never seen or heard you pout before. You sound like a five-year-old.”

Emmeline leaned back and sighed. “If you were nearing thirty and considered to be back on the shelf you would be desperate to hurry Blackstone along, too.”

Lilly took Emmeline’s hand in hers, hoping to help soothe her worry. “I’m sorry. Perhaps you could take the reins, so to speak, and give him subtle hints. Although, by the way you looked at him today, he’d have to be blind not to notice your affection for him.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“Yes and no.” What did Lilly know about anything related to matters of the heart, courting and letting one’s feelings for another show? What right did she have to think she was knowledgeable to advise Emmeline? She giggled. “I’m the last person who should be telling you anything. I know nothing. Listen to your heart and observe him. If I’m wrong about him and his feelings for you, I’ll eat the feathers on my hat.”

They both giggled.