Page 5 of Surrender to the Earl (Brides of Redemption #2)

Audrey retrieved one of her embossed books from a shelf and began to read.

The letters were large and raised, but she still had to move her fingers across slowly.

Though she’d read this one many times, embossed books were expensive, and she didn’t have easy access to her money.

Usually Molly read aloud to her from the library, and the two of them had enjoyed exploring the world of books together.

Blythe’s unending silence saddened as well as frustrated her, and at last she had to speak. “You sound like you’re enjoying yourself with Edwin’s shooting party, Blythe.”

“I am.”

At least she’d answered, even if her voice was clipped and angry.

“I thought the guests seemed to take pleasure in the meal.”

“Trying to earn a compliment, Audrey?”

Audrey sighed. “I was making polite conversation, which might be all I ever have with you. It makes me sad.”

Blythe made no response, and for the millionth time, Audrey wished she could see her expression. They suddenly heard a door being thrown open, and a genial burst of laughter from the men as they crossed the entrance hall.

The men swept into the room in a rush of exuberance, their very presence a powerful wave of maleness Audrey had never experienced.

She was usually asked to retire to her room when her brother had company.

But not this time. She had Lord Knightsbridge to thank for that.

She was able to experience all their deep voices, the many scents of cologne and perspiration, the movement of air as if the young men couldn’t stand still in anticipation of their hunt.

Someone bumped her leg, and she heard a young man say, “Forgive me, Mrs. Blake,” in a voice so loud Audrey almost reared her head back.

Mildly, she answered, “Apology accepted, sir, although next you might try apologizing for the assault on my ears.”

When chuckles swept around her, it was a little dizzying to imagine so many people in places she couldn’t predict, couldn’t see.

Someone sat beside her, and the cushions angled down from the weight. She balanced herself carefully.

“Interesting book, Mrs. Blake.”

Lord Knightsbridge, she thought, relaxing. “It is, my lord, one made especially for the blind. You can feel the letters, if you’d like.”

He did so, his fingers light across the page, but beneath the book, she could feel the faint pressure of them trailing across her thighs.

It made her shiver, and she pressed her lips together.

What was this? Such a strange sensation.

The others continued to converse; it was reassuring to think no one watched them.

“It is good to know you have access to the world of books,” he said.

“I am fortunate to have a lady’s maid who will read for hours on end in the evening. Right now, we are studying the countries of Africa.”

“Ah, you are a scholar.”

Her cheeks felt hot—was he actually making her blush? “No, I am not so talented.”

“What else do you do to pass the time?” he asked, then added, “If you do not mind telling me.”

“I don’t mind honest curiosity, sir,” she answered.

She wet her lips, knowing that how she portrayed herself would influence his decision.

Conversely, his behavior would influence her as well.

“I love to walk. I’m out every day with my maid, to strengthen my health and enjoy the air.

I ride as well, although I sometimes need to be guided. ”

“Sometimes?” he echoed.

The surprised amusement in his voice wasn’t condescending.

“My gelding, Erebus, knows his way about the estate, as do I.”

“Erebus,” he echoed. “Greek god?”

“Excellent memory, my lord. The god of darkness.”

“Aah,” he said, and the amusement was back. “Shaped like mist, not a man. Appropriate. Please continue with your pastimes.”

He was well read. She liked that. “As for indoor amusements, besides reading, I can crochet and knit. We all know how important needlework is to a lady,” she added dryly.

He laughed, and more than one conversation died.

Suddenly, Blythe spoke up in the silence. “So what are you two discussing that is so amusing? Do share!”

Audrey was surprised to feel a gentle understanding for her sister.

Blythe also knew what it was like to worry about the future.

She had been out for three years now, and though she’d turned down several inappropriate proposals, a good match had not presented itself.

Blythe no more wanted to grow old in this house than Audrey did.

Whenever Audrey grew angry with her sister’s impatience and temper, she tried to remind herself of this.

“We are discussing needlework, Miss Collins,” Lord Knightsbridge said.

Someone guffawed.

“I myself used to have terrible hobbies for a young future earl,” he continued.

“Oh do enlighten us, my lord,” Blythe urged.

“I thought myself quite the scholar and intellect.”

“But you became a soldier,” Blythe countered. “Would that not make you an outdoorsman in your youth?”

“My father would order my brother to drag me from my books to the archery field or fencing match.”

“Surely your brother had your best interests at heart,” Edwin said with hearty good cheer.

Audrey could imagine him giving Blythe a playful elbow to the side, but not her, as if it would be cruel to have fun with an invalid.

“Oh, my brother had more than my best interests—he was very competitive, being older than I.”

“But you are the earl,” Blythe said, confusion in her voice.

“My brother died at fourteen. Now, Miss Collins, do not look so sad. It was a long time ago, and I’ve since thought my brother has enjoyed watching me from above as I stumble from mistake to mistake.”

So he has had other grief in his life, Audrey thought. Perhaps that was where his compassion began.

“Maybe your brother has guided you as well,” Blythe said. “You were a captain in the army, yes? And you have the look of a man at ease in physical pursuits.”

Audrey found herself trying to imagine what Blythe saw.

Audrey knew something of men after all, even though she’d only had a wedding night before her husband had abandoned her.

At first she’d thought herself lacking when he’d so quickly fled, but after a time, she’d realized he’d been a selfish man who cared little for her or making her feel at ease on their wedding night. She’d been a virgin, after all.

But she remembered what he’d felt like through his nightshirt, thin and bony, awkward with his hands on her body. He could not be a representation of all men. Lord Knightsbridge must look quite the dashing figure in comparison, if Blythe’s reaction was any indication.

Not that she cared. The earl could be a hunched troll and it wouldn’t matter, as long as he helped her. And then he could go away, because she was done with men, done with being under their control.

“I do enjoy outdoor pursuits now,” Lord Knightsbridge admitted. “And I’ve been known to be an accurate shot. I imagine some of you here should fear my abilities.”

There was laughter and answering challenges, so … manly to Audrey, thrilling in a new way. It was wonderful to participate like this, all because of his lordship.

As conversations began again, Lord Collins asked Blythe to play the piano, and soon her cheerful melody provided background.

Lord Knightsbridge murmured, “I do believe I must speak to others now, Mrs. Blake, or be accused of monopolizing you.”

“I understand, my lord, but you are patronizing me. We both know all believe I’m monopolizing you .”

“And we know it untrue,” he murmured.

To her surprise, he lifted her gloved hand and brought it briefly to his mouth, so briefly she might have imagined it. Her fingers started to tremble, and she berated herself for a silly fool.

“You are a flatterer, my lord,” she said, shaking her head. “I give you permission to go flatter someone else.”

She heard his chuckle, felt the rush of warm air as he rose, and then she was alone at her end of the sofa.

Listening to Blythe play, she heard the occasional wrong note that came from not enough practice, but overall, she thought her sister had improved.

Blythe joined her voice to the music, and it was sweet and pretty.

Audrey hoped many of the men looked upon her sister with interest.

Soon Audrey deemed it time for refreshments, so she walked to the bell pull and rang it, waiting patiently for the footman to appear. She ordered coffee and tea for her brother’s guests.

“No, no, I can play no more,” she heard Blythe say in a teasing voice. “My fingers will need time to recover.”

“Then let us hear your sister play,” Lord Knightsbridge said, his deep voice once again bringing all conversation to a standstill.

Audrey was caught standing alone, feeling almost adrift in surprise. She could sense their eyes on her, and her imagination made them all look wide-eyed with shock or revulsion or morbid curiosity.

“I don’t think …” her father began in his big blustery voice.

“But I heard her this afternoon when I arrived,” Lord Knightsbridge smoothly interrupted. “Mrs. Blake plays as beautifully as her sister. You have very talented daughters, Collins.”

Audrey couldn’t refuse the earl, for it would be poor manners, but she wasn’t so certain this was a good idea. When she hesitated, not knowing who was between her and the piano, someone took her arm. She stiffened.

“It is only your proud brother,” Edwin said, speaking tightly as if between gritted teeth.

Did he think she was ruining his shooting party?

Or distracting attention from Blythe? Audrey straightened in anger, allowing him to lead her to the piano.

Sitting down on the bench, she tried to clear her mind, the better to choose a selection.

She panicked for a moment, never having been asked to perform for guests.

At last one of Chopin’s romantic piano ballades came to mind.

As she hesitated, she remembered how long it had taken her to memorize it, note by note, with help from her mother. Those were such good memories.

She began to play, and let the pleasure of the music soothe her nerves and quench her unease. Only when she was done did she realize that everyone had remained silent throughout. A burst of warm applause made her bow her head with happiness.

She almost felt like a normal woman. But she wasn’t—not yet.