Page 2 of The Marquess and the Earl (The Unlikely Betrothal #3)

Chapter 2

G eorge Knox, the Earl of Knox, was expected to do his duty to his title and his estates. He would marry, sire children, and ensure his estates prospered. That was what he had been raised to do. That was what his father had demanded of him. His father always demanded perfection in his only son. The sole heir to the earldom and the only one who could carry forth the family lines, else the estate would fall into the hands of some distant cousin. He had heard those words more times than he could count.

Even though his father had been gone for a few years now, he still heard the man’s voice in his head. George wasn’t like the other gentlemen. He had never enjoyed or excelled at sports. He wasn’t all that great at riding a horse but did so passably. He didn’t enjoy gambling or talking about bedding women, either. All faults for which his father hadn’t hesitated to call out and chastise him about.

Only a perfect English gentleman would be acceptable, and that was what his father attempted to force him to be. George was made to practice his riding until his skill improved and forced to exercise to achieve the build his father expected in the Earl of Knox. His father even dragged him to brothels as soon as he was of age, encouraging him to “sow his oats” as the man put it. All of it was tiring, and not what George had wanted for his life. But the words of his father were still hard to overcome, even though the man no longer walked the earth.

He glanced down at the pretty young lady before him. She would suit his father’s requirements if he were still here to check them off the list, one by one. Her hair color wasn’t fashionable, but it suited her. She was also known to be on the quiet side, but his father would say that would make her a biddable wife who would do as she was told. Not that he had any desire to control a woman in such a way, or anyone, for that matter.

George did his best to listen to the young lady with feigned interest when he felt as if someone were watching him. The notion sent a chill through his body. He dared to turn his head to see if he was correct and found the most intriguing man watching him. At least he believed he was watching him. It was possible he could have been looking at Lady Lily.

But then he caught the man’s gaze, and he couldn’t look away. His green eyes shone like gems from where he stood across the room. His hair was a deep chestnut and looked as if it would be silky soft to the touch, and he was tall, with muscled broad shoulders. His chiseled jaw clenched, leaving George with no clue why the man was watching him.

He had been unable to look away, but thankfully, the man turned from him and greeted their host.

“Don’t you agree, my lord?” Lady Lily said before him, attempting to capture his attention.

He swallowed. “Um…yes.” Although, he hadn’t the foggiest idea what he had just agreed to.

George’s body shivered again, and he fought to keep from looking for the man with the piercing green eyes.

“My lord,” their host said from his right. He hadn’t even realized she had approached them. “My lady.”

“Please allow me to make my friend, Lord Demming, known to you both. Marquess of Demming, this is the Earl of Knox and Lady Lily.”

George looked at the man beside Lady Ockham and had to force himself to maintain a steady pace of breathing .

“It is a pleasure to meet you both,” the man said coolly, his voice a rich baritone. He bowed over Lady Lily’s hand and then gave George a respectful nod. He thought he detected something mischievous in the man’s smile, and it did things to him. Things he didn’t wish for others in the room to notice.

“You as well, my lord,” George said, attempting to sound just as unfazed as the god in front of him appeared to be.

“Hopefully, I shall get to know both of you better during the house party, as I am sure we will partake in many of our hostess’s activities together,” the man said, appearing to speak more to George than to Lady Lily, which he knew was a ridiculous notion.

“I look forward to it, my lord,” the young lady said from beside him. George was thankful for her response, allowing him a few extra moments to gather his wits.

Thankfully, dinner was announced, and everyone paired off to take their seats in the dining room. George did his best to focus on his meal and not look around the table. He was worried if he did, he would stare indefinitely at Lord Demming. He wasn’t sure why he was so intrigued by the man, but he was completely infatuated with everything about him. If he thought he could ask someone about Demming without arousing suspicions, he would, if only so he could construct him as accurately as possible in his dreams.

George had known for a long time that he didn’t have the same urges as most men of society. If he wasn’t certain before his father took him to a brothel, his inability to rise to the occasion with a naked woman attempting to take him into her mouth only confirmed it. He paid the woman extra not to tell his father, or anyone else, for that matter.

He attempted the same act multiple times, determined to will his body to comply and enjoy the pleasures that a woman should be able to give his body, but it was no use. It certainly wasn’t because he didn’t want to come. He did very much, and he had from his own hand countless times.

George was almost certain he’d have a far different reaction to a man, given that his cock hardened from certain gentlemen who had caught his eye. He resorted to stroking his own shaft in response because he didn’t dare to explore such a notion in actuality. It would be a risk to the title and his family’s name.

He knew men like him existed, but it was well known that such a thing wasn’t accepted in their society. Being with a man romantically was a crime punishable by death at the worst and social ruin at the best .

Given the bulge he sported in his breeches in the middle of dinner from the thought of the man seated a few guests down from him, it only continued to prove his theory, although the timing of the realization was unfortunate.

He had never been more thankful for the security of the large oak table and his napkin in his lap to shield him. He had the duration of dinner to control his urges and rid himself of the telling ridge between his thighs so he wouldn’t embarrass himself in front of the entire party.

His father’s words crept into his thoughts again, and that did the trick. The rest of dinner passed with him listening to the surrounding chatter and partaking in the conversation when he was spoken to.

The ladies departed, leaving the gentlemen to drink their port. George found himself even more uncomfortable in only the presence of men, always worried he might have a reaction to one of them. It happened from time to time when he noticed a gentleman he found appealing. His concern heightened with the intriguing Lord Demming so near to him.

Unable to help himself, he glanced over at Demming, who was in conversation with Ockham and Onslow. As if the man knew he was at the center of George’s thoughts, Demming cast him a sideways glance from behind a sip of port. George thought he saw him grin, flashing a glimpse of his pearly white teeth before responding to something Onslow said.

“I hear you are courting one of the ladies in attendance,” another man said from beside him. He turned his head, completely removing Demming from his line of sight, which was probably for the best.

“Perhaps,” George said, responding to Viscount Alexander Callan. “Lady Lily’s father put it around that we are courting, but I hardly know the lady. I merely discussed the notion with him.”

“I suppose a house party is a splendid opportunity to remedy that. I hear there is to be a Pall Mall tournament tomorrow.”

George fought the urge to groan. There was nothing he detested more than yard games. Well, that wasn’t true. He could probably think of less appealing things, but he certainly hated them. He wasn’t any good, and he could hear his father’s disdain in his head when he could never hit the ball straight.

If he had any say in the matter, he would be a spectator, even if it meant he had to come down with some unexpected illness.

“Indeed,” George replied, deciding that was the most agreeable response to give. He took a swig of his port, hoping that would end the conversation about such activities .

Finally, Ockham announced his desire to join the ladies. He was famous for the love match he had with his wife and spent very little time without her by his side. From what George knew of the lady, she was among the most spirited in society. He found he liked them both a lot. They seemed like the kind of people that if they knew of his interest in partners, or his assumed interest rather, they would be just as accepting. But he would never know for certain, so he would take that secret to his grave.

When he entered the room, he sought Lady Lily. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do. The upside to everyone in attendance believing that he was courting the woman was that the other young ladies steered clear of him, opting for gentlemen who appeared more available than he did. A small victory he was most grateful for.

“Are you enjoying the company of the other ladies?” he asked, reaching her side.

“I am, my lord,” she replied. “It seems none of the gossips and more discerning members of the ton are in attendance.”

With an overdramatic flair, he patted his chest. “Well, that is quite a relief.”

She laughed at him. “You jest, but it is. I might even have an intellectual conversation without being called a bluestocking. ”

“What is it you are most interested in discussing?” he asked, finding that he was interested in her response.

“I mentioned earlier how I love reading and the theatre. So I always enjoy the opportunity to discuss those topics.”

“And do you have a favorite play?”

“I can recite most of Shakespeare’s plays by heart. I’m not certain I could select a favorite of his,” she replied. She continued talking about it, but that nagging shiver captured George’s attention.

He became distracted from their conversation when he noticed Demming by himself by the window, gazing into the night. He swirled his drink and then brought it to his lips. George took far too much notice of the way his mouth opened to pour the rich brown liquid into it.

“If you will excuse me,” he said, almost certain he rudely interrupted whatever she was saying. “I am going to take in a bit of the night air.”

He didn’t wait for a response and started towards the double doors that led to the terrace, closing them behind him when he stepped out. Drawing a deep breath of the cool air, he hoped it would cool his heated skin.

“Hiding from your young lady?”

George closed his eyes, his entire body aware of who had appeared behind him. He stepped closer to the railing of the terrace if only to shield his lower body .

“Not at all, my lord,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Just enjoying a bit of this beautiful evening.” He glanced up as he had always enjoyed the beauty of the night sky. “The stars are on full display.”

Demming joined him at the railing and looked up. “You are right about that. It’s a perfect night for stargazing. Oh look, a shooting star.”

“Am I to believe that you make wishes on stars?” George would find it hard to believe that a man of Demming’s looks and stature would do something so frivolous.

Demming turned his head to look at him. “Indeed, I do.”

“Perhaps I should make a wish that I can get out of playing Pall Mall tomorrow.”

Demming laughed. “Not a fan, I take it?”

George shook his head. “Hate isn’t a strong enough word.”

“Well, I shall do my best to help you avoid it, even if I must sacrifice myself to ensure no young lady is without a partner.”

George grinned at him. “Then I shall be in your debt.”

He waved him off. “Not at all. You can just cheer me on from the sidelines.”

“You have a deal,” George said .

Demming extended his hand for them to shake on it. George hesitated but grabbed it. The electricity from the man’s touch reached every cell in his body. He had never had a stronger urge to lean forward and press his lips to another’s as he did to the full pout of the handsome man before him.

He feared he had held the man’s hand too long and pulled away. “I should return. Lady Lily might wonder where I have gotten off to.”

Given his lack of composure and his telltale physical reaction to Lord Demming, he bypassed the salon and retired to his chamber for the evening. He’d need to have far better control over himself tomorrow. Lord Demming was not for him.