Read Engaging the Earl Online

Authors: Diana Quincy

Engaging the Earl (9 page)

“No, thank you. I don’t wish to discommode you. I only stopped by to return Lady Katherine’s animal to her.”

Kat had to restrain herself from running down the stairs to keep him from leaving, but she managed to proceed at a discreet pace. “Thank you.”

Vera bounded over to her, wagging her tail in lavish, wide swishes. Kat laughed and bent to welcome the dog, allowing her to lick her chin.

“Really, Katherine,” her mother admonished, her distaste clear on her face. “You mustn’t let her do that.”

Kat gave Vera’s ears a vigorous massage before standing upright and flashing Edward an amused expression. “There’s no harm in it. She’s showing me her affection.”

Edward replaced his hat atop his head. “Now that you two are successfully reunited, I shall take my leave.”

She didn’t want him to go. “Are you certain you won’t stay for refreshment?”

His answer was interrupted by Vera’s whine as she scratched at the front door.

“John,” her mother called to the footman standing sentry in the foyer—all of the footmen were called John no matter their true Christian name—“do take that creature out before she marks up the door.”

“I’ll do it.” Kat seized the opportunity to be alone with Edward. “I’ll walk the earl out. I could use the fresh air.”

Her mother flashed a troubled look between the two of them. And for a moment Kat worried she would forbid it. But then she said, “Very well. Do take Fanny with you.”

“This is folly,” Fanny hissed after they donned their pelisses and hurried down to join Edward.

“I would have a care if I were you,” Kat retorted, unwilling to be deterred. “You might not approve, but bear in mind that Lord Randolph could one day be your new master and the true folly would be for you to cross him.”

Fanny answered with a humph, and all three set out with Vera in tow, Fanny trailing behind. Edward held Vera’s leash in one hand and offered Kat his opposite arm, which she took, happy to have at least this limited physical contact between them.

“You must put any idea of an arrangement between us out of your mind,” he said in quiet tones. “It is for the best.”

“I have decided to tell Laurie I am crying off at the Hobart’s house party in a sennight.” She knew Edward had been invited to the house party Toby and Bea’s mother planned to hold at their country estate. “Will I see you there?”

His arm stiffened under her hand. “No, you most certainly will not. I beg you to reconsider this nonsense.”

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. Her course was set now. She would see it through. “After I cry off, Laurie can retire to his country estate instead of returning to Town to face the scandal. By the time the Season begins in earnest and he returns to take up his seat in the lords, the uproar will have abated.”

He halted, his face set in hard lines. “We enjoyed a childhood infatuation and nothing more. I will never court you. We will never marry.”

“You are not unmoved by me. I felt it when you kissed me.”

“Physical desire is not love.”

“I will also stay in the country,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “And once my parents become accustomed to my new situation, I hope you will come and visit.”

“I most certainly will not.”

“We shall see.” She took the dog’s leash from him. “We should go. Come, Vera.”

The animal bounded over, nosing up against her thigh. Kat turned to leave, but felt a sudden tug on the leash after she’d gone just a few steps. She turned to find Vera planted by Edward’s side.

“Well, how do you like that?” he said with clear amusement.

“One would think you were her master.” The irritation roiling in her chest at Vera’s blatant defection immediately gave way to a realization. “Perhaps the animal already knows what fate has in store.”

“I don’t take your meaning.”

“Vera seems to understand that you are soon to be her new master.”

His face darkened. “You don’t stop.”

“Exactly right.” She handed Vera’s leash to him. “You would do well to give up the fight.”


The unbearable stench invaded his nostrils, the smell of blood and rotting flesh turning his stomach. Rand stumbled away and struggled not to spill its meager contents when he caught sight of the flies buzzing around the pile of severed limbs. All the while, the soldier’s singing played over and over in his mind:

I thought I heard the Colonel crying

March brave boys there’s no denying

Then the other sound joined in, the unrelenting back-and-forth rhythm of sawing. The soldier’s voice grew shriller, yet he continued on.

Cannons roaring—drums abeating

March brave boys there’s no retreating

Love farewell

He went toward the sound. Something dropped with a heavy thud at his feet. Another severed arm. His shoulder hurt like the devil. He rubbed it, but found an empty sleeve where his arm used to be.

Rand shot up to a sitting position in the dark, sweating and disconcerted, his breathing fast and shallow. The stale smell of cheroot smoke thickened the air, replacing the awful stench of rotting flesh and bone. It took a moment for him to comprehend he was in his bed in the mausoleum on Grosvenor Square and not at a wartime field hospital.

His sudden movement alerted Vera, who’d been asleep beside the bed. She pushed up on all four legs and faced him, her tail held up high and still, as if she were standing sentry. Lightheaded and dazed, he tried to remember why the animal was in his bed chamber.

Agonizing pain clenched his chest and the uncontrollable shaking began. Cursing, he lay back down, curling into a fetal position. There was nothing to be done for it. He’d experienced enough of these episodes to know there was no preventing them. A curtain of terror bled over him, his vision dimmed. He couldn’t breathe.

And then everything went black.

Chapter Seven

“Get down from there! Shoo before I feed you to the horses!”

His valet’s irritated voice pierced the blackness. Something both rough and delicate lapped at Rand’s face. The unmistakable scent of dog’s breath closed in on him.

“Down, you mangy creature. Get away.” Burgess’ voice moved closer. Rand dragged his heavy eyelids open to find Vera’s snout at very close range. Standing over him on the bed, she paid his valet no mind and concentrated on licking his face repeatedly.

Perspiring and shaky, his heart slamming against his chest wall, Rand placed his hand on the animal’s head to push her away in a gentle manner. She allowed it, jumping off with a bark and coming to an alert sitting position on the floor by the bed. Her tail swept back and forth in slow, wide wags, and she regarded him with an expectant expression.

Then it occurred to him what had happened. “Bloody hell. I had another episode.”

“Indeed,” Burgess said in his crisp fashion. His clothing, slightly askew as though he’d dressed in a hurry, was the lone sign anything out of the ordinary had occurred. “Brandy or a smoke?”

“Both.” He pushed to a sitting position, wincing at the throbbing pain in his shoulder. Rubbing the tender spot, he trailed his hand down his arm to reassure himself the limb remained intact. “How long this time?”

Burgess handed him a brandy and cheroot, pausing to light it for him. “Considerably more abbreviated than the last time.” He paused, contemplating the question. “A few minutes at most.”

“Son of a bitch.” Rand threw the brandy down his throat all at once.

Burgess reached for the decanter again. “More?” Still disconcerted, Rand nodded. “Speaking of bitches, that one there” —Burgess tilted his head in Vera’s direction— “refused to be dissuaded from lapping at your face as though it were a sweetmeat.”

He emptied the glass again and handed it back to the butler. Coughing, he swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “No more brandy.” He dangled his hand off the side of the bed and Vera came right to it. Standing on her hind paws, she balanced her front legs against the bed frame and nudged her furry head up under his hand. “Good girl.”

The animal wiggled her body with happy enthusiasm. He petted her more vigorously, in the playful way he now knew she preferred. “Did I put the fear in you, girl?”

Burgess moved about the chamber, straightening the clothes Rand had draped across a chair when he’d undressed before bed. Even though the valet had comfortable quarters commiserate with his status as the household’s highest placed servant, he still slept in the simple valet room just off the master’s chamber. Rand suspected it was so he could be close at hand during these moments of crisis.

“Did I say anything this time?”

“Nothing particularly distinguishable.” Burgess threw a few logs on the flagging fire in the hearth. Picking up a poker, he coaxed the flames into a burst of renewed energy.

 ”You’re lowering yourself to tend the fire rather than leaving it to an underling.” Rand spoke in a wry tone. “My episode must have been very bad indeed.”

“Not to worry.” He propped the poker carefully back into its stand. “There are plenty of other tasks I can assign on the morrow to remind the lower servants of their place. There’s no sense in waking the entire household.”

Other than Elena, only Burgess knew of these blasted episodes. He’d been on hand since the first one, not long after Talavera. Although the occurrence of the bouts had dwindled in the two years since Rand had given up his commission, they still struck occasionally with no forewarning.

He massaged behind Vera’s ears. The animal practically sighed with pleasure as she rested her chin on the edge of the mattress. Rand’s heartbeat slowly restored itself to a more normal rhythm. “I suppose I needed this particular episode to slam some sense into my addled mind.”

“Beg pardon?”

He took a deep drag on his cheroot. “I was beginning to contemplate giving you the mistress of the house you’ve been haranguing me about.”

Burgess turned to give him his full attention. “Indeed?”

“This episode reaffirms that it would be folly to take a bride.” Pressure bore down on Rand’s chest at the thought of what he must do. “I can’t in good conscience subject a wife to this madness.”

The valet tilted his head. “Who was the fortunate lady, may I ask?”

“You may not. Suffice to say, I must put an end to her fanciful notions of marriage.”

“I imagine any lady who would release you so easily isn’t worthy of your affections.”

“I fear you might be correct.” He exhaled, blowing smoke high into the air, remembering Kitty’s kind tolerance of the pensioners. “If I explained this madness to the lady, she’s liable to stay out of guilt or misplaced duty.”

“Or an abundance of affection.”

“What sort of drivel is that?” he said more sharply than he intended. “Don’t tell me there’s a romantic soul hidden under all that starch.”

“Perhaps you should relay the truth and allow the lady to make the choice.”

“No.” He spoke in hard tones. “I will never allow that. She deserves better.” The irony of it tasted bitter on his tongue. He’d left her all those years ago because he hadn’t the consequence to take her to wife. Now, despite being in possession of both a title and a tidy fortune, he was even less worthy of her.

“Drivel indeed,” Burgess said in a low tone, more to himself than to Rand.

“What was that?” Rand demanded, even though he’d heard perfectly.

“Nothing at all. Do you want me to put that creature out?” Burgess approached Vera with obvious distaste. “It’s liable to keep you awake.” Vera’s body vibrated with a low growl when the valet got too close.

“She seems to have taken an immediate dislike to you.”

Burgess sniffed. “The feeling is mutual.”

Rand patted the bed and Vera hopped onto the mattress, settling down beside him. “Leave her with me.” He ran a hand down the length of the animal’s body. Stroking her soft coat settled him somehow. “I could use the company. I doubt there’ll be any more sleep for me this evening. Why don’t you return to your bed?”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Rand scowled. “Perhaps Vera could be persuaded to bite you in the arse every time you call me by that blasted title.”

“Perhaps,” said Burgess disappearing into his valet chamber, “my lord.”

Rand settled back against the pillows, running one hand over Vera’s prone form while contemplating the distasteful task that lay ahead. Leaving Kitty to join the war had been agony enough, even when he’d had every intention of returning to reclaim her. This time, he meant to end their association for good. He must find a way to persuade her to abandon her notions of a romantic reunion between them. In short, he needed to do something unforgivable.

Taking a long, slow draw on the cheroot, a plan of how to put Kitty off him forever formed in his mind. Now he just had to find the courage to follow through with it.


“Look at Laurie. He has the most well-formed body of any man I’ve ever seen,” Lexie said with an audible sigh of envy. The tangle inside Kat’s stomach tightened into a hard knot. The three women had set up near the lake to watercolor for the afternoon. She looked into the distance, across the lake, where the men were fishing. Laurie stood at the edge with a pole in hand, his strong legs braced apart, his blond hair catching the sun. Soon she must tell him the truth. Normally, she’d do anything to avoid hurting Laurie. Except give up Edward.

“And have you seen many men’s bodies, Lexie?” Bea asked in a teasing manner.

Keeping her gaze on the men, Lexie twirled her sable brush into a fine point. “Since Laurie is taken, I’ve set my sights on Lord Randolph. He’s a little bit on the thin side, but still cuts a fine form.”

Pushing her brush around aimlessly on the cold-pressed paper, Kat pretended to concentrate on her watercolor. What was Edward doing here? He stood by the bank, not far from Laurie, with Vera at his feet, conversing with Toby and some other gentlemen guests.

The last time they’d spoken alone, in the park, he’d planned to decline the invitation to the Hobart’s house party. She smiled to herself. Perhaps he’d missed her.

Lexie’s gaze remained on Edward. “He isn’t the handsomest of men, but his title more than makes up for what he lacks in looks and charm.”

“I think he is quite attractive,” Bea said. “In a hard sort of way.”

Lexie winked. “That mistress of his seems to have no problem handling him.”

Bea gasped. “Lexie!”

Lexie waved her off. “What? Everyone knows the Amazon is the earl’s ladybird.”

Kat swallowed away the instant jealousy that gripped her throat. She’d forgotten about the Spanish strumpet. Surely, Edward would give up his mistress once they married. He had to.

Any hopes Kat harbored of putting the Maid of Malagon out of her mind were firmly dashed a few hours later when the Amazon made an unexpected appearance as the guests gathered before dinner. Resplendent in a royal blue gown that showcased her bountiful breasts, she appeared on the threshold of the salon with her jet-black hair styled high atop her head, making her appear even taller.

The air whooshed out of Kat’s chest. “What is she doing here?” she whispered to Bea.

“Isn’t she divine?” Bea watched Elena with a frankly admiring expression on her face. “I convinced Mother to invite her.”

“And she agreed?” Kat said incredulously. “Surely she is not considered respectable?”

“She has the prince regent’s admiration on account of her wartime valor, so she is now invited everywhere.”

Well. That hardly seemed fair. The woman flouted convention at every turn and was still accepted everywhere, while all other females had to follow society’s rigid strictures or risk being cast out permanently. Kat couldn’t even walk alone in the park without courting ruin, yet the Amazon could go to war and have carnal knowledge of men and
still
be widely admired?

“Are you well, Kat?” Lexie asked. “You seem a little flushed.”

Kat flashed Lexie an angry glare before remembering to mask her true feelings. “It is a little warm in here,” she said in a bored tone.

“Hmmm,” Lexie said. “I thought perhaps your thoughts were on the Maid of Malagon.” Kat’s heart froze. Had she been so obvious? She was usually a master at masking genuine emotions; even Laurie rarely had an inkling of her true thoughts. “After all,” Lexie continued, “when she is about, you no longer command the entire room as you are so used to doing.”

“Oh, do be quiet,” Bea said. “Kat has already landed the Season’s most eligible bachelor. What does she care for the attentions of other gentlemen?”

A hush fell over the room, drawing their attention back in the direction of the Spanish woman. Kat forgot how to breathe when Edward stepped in beside Elena wearing unrelieved black formal wear with a royal blue cravat, which exactly matched the shade of Elena’s silk gown.

“Well, perhaps not the most eligible bachelor.” Lexie stared at the couple. “After all, an earl is higher than a viscount.”

Kat struggled to maintain a neutral expression despite the awful thought forming in her mind. She’d thought Edward had come for her, his future wife, but what if he’d been unable to stay away from his mistress? The color of his cravat could not be a coincidence. It was as if he’d purposely dressed to complement the gown worn by his mistress and wanted everyone to know it.

She watched Elena smile at Edward with a confidence that suggested she knew she belonged at his side. Edward’s stern expression relaxed as he bowed over his mistress’ hand, touching his lips to the gloved surface.

“She’s a bold piece, that one. Not that I care,” Lexie said with a mischievous smile. “I do not require fidelity in marriage, so long as it comes with a title.”

A heavy ache throbbed in Kat’s chest. Obviously, Edward not only intended to keep his mistress, he planned to flaunt her openly at society affairs.

After supper, the men rejoined the ladies not long after being left to their port. Laurie and many of the other men went off to play cards. When Edward slipped out of the room, Kat seized her chance to have it out with him. He moved ahead of her at a leisurely pace, which made following him remarkably easy. He wound his way down the corridor and around a corner until he came to the solarium and slipped inside. Kat melted back into the shadows when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Servants it seemed. After they’d passed her, she emerged from her hiding place and followed Edward into the solarium.

The room was dark and steeped with the tang of citrus fruits. A long row of windows faced out onto the manor grounds. A deep-throated, feminine chuckle reached Kat, and she had no doubt who it belonged to. She maneuvered around the lemon plants until she caught sight of them.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” the woman asked Edward in that throaty voice of hers.

“Definitely.” He pulled Elena’s body up against his and kissed her with almost violent passion. The Spanish woman did not seem to mind. From what Kat could tell, she participated fully in the embrace.

The Amazon sighed when he kissed a trail down her neck. “Do you like that, my love?”

Throwing back her head, Elena drew Edward’s head against her. “
Sí mi amor. Si
.”

“You are so lovely,” he murmured against the woman’s throat. “So lovely.”

Kat stood frozen in place, unable to fully believe the wretched scene playing out before her: Edward’s lips on that woman’s skin, the terms of endearment, his breath heavy with arousal.

Elena’s fingers went to the placket of Edward’s pants. “Come,
mi amor
. I want you now.”

The full horror of witnessing Edward in the act of copulating with another woman slammed into Kat. Before she could stop it, an indecipherable utterance of shock and dismay escaped her lips, reverberating through the air like a clanging bell. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she watched Edward pull away from the Amazon to look in her direction.

“Kat?” Comprehension moved slowly across his face when he recognized her. “You shouldn’t be here.”

What had she expected? Remorse? Chagrin at being caught in a blatant act of betrayal? Some expression of guilt? Instead, his face wore a polite expression, his voice almost nonchalant, as though he hadn’t been pawing his mistress right before her eyes. She saw his hand move to his placket to assure himself that his privates were not exposed. Thank goodness they were not. “I beg your pardon for disturbing you,” she said, her tone edged with irony, hating how shaky her voice sounded.

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