To Tempt an Earl (9 page)

Warm chocolate with heaps and heaps of
sugar.

And a splash of milk.

It was more of a dessert than anything else,
but Bethanny could think of no better way to begin the day than
with something sweet.

"Miss? You're awake early. Did you not sleep
well, then?" Molly asked kindly as she laid down the tray.

"Actually, I slept quite well." Bethanny
offered her maid a welcoming smile and reached for her
chocolate.

When the first hint of flavor touched her
lips, she closed her eyes, relishing the texture and sweetness.

"Since today is your at-home day, miss, which
dress would you prefer? The blue or green?" Molly asked as she
withdrew two garments from the wardrobe.

"The blue… I think." Bethanny's eyes darted
from dress to dress as she peeked over her cup of chocolate.

"Very good, miss. You're sure to have quite a
few callers today, it being the day after your debut and all. I
heard it was quite smashing!" Molly's hazel eyes danced with
excitement.

"It
was
quite the crush," Bethanny
answered kindly.

"And would a certain lord have asked you to
dance, miss?" Molly's eyebrow arched in question, a teasing grin at
her lips.

"Perhaps."

"Oh! I knew he would, miss! You're far too
lovely for any gentleman to not be begging for a dance! Was it all
you were wishing?" Molly turned aside from the dresses and happily
strode to her mistress, beaming with joy.

"Oh, Molly!" Bethanny grinned. Placing her
chocolate on the small table just past the fire, she spun in a
small circle. "We waltzed, Molly! A waltz! Can you believe it? It
was delightful! Even now, I break out in gooseflesh simply thinking
about it!"

"A waltz!" Molly echoed with delight.

"Yes! But…" Bethanny's joy was quickly
turning to a worry. "However, we… did meet earlier… and he didn't
recognize me."

"Well, you have done your fair share of
growing up, you have." Molly nodded.

"Yes, well… I don't think he was pleased that
it was me." Bethanny bit her lip.

"Oh? And why are you thinking that, miss? I'm
sure he was thrilled!"

"No, you see… he… he seemed quite… shocked
actually, when he discovered who I was."

"Shocked by your beauty, miss." Molly spoke
confidently.

Bethanny shook her head then bit her lip. How
she loved Molly; her fierce loyalty was a rarity and all the more
reason for Bethanny's friendship with her maid. That loyalty also
made Molly utterly trustworthy, but Bethanny dared not speak about
the kiss out loud. She wanted it to be a delicious secret, one that
was only shared by one other person. Graham.

"I do believe he found me… pleasing to
behold. However, I
think
, no, I
know
he was unhappy
because… well… you see, while he didn't know he was speaking with
me earlier, I knew it was him. And I didn't say anything about who
I was, even though I knew he didn't recognize me," Bethanny
confessed.

"Oh." Molly furrowed her brow and quirked her
lips. "Then we'll just have to change his heart a bit, won't we?"
She grinned mischievously. "Your cap's still set on the gentleman,
is it not?"

"Oh yes," Bethanny spoke reverently.

"You're a smart one, miss. He might have
gotten his manly pride prickled a bit when he realized you were
quicker than he, but I suspect that he'll come around, given the
proper encouragement." Molly shrugged and went back to the
dresses.

"Encouragement?"

"Well, yes, miss. With your beautiful
coffee-colored hair and those bottomless brown eyes, I doubt he's
missed what a beauty you are. Add to that your kind heart and smart
wit, he'll not be able to resist. Besides," Molly smirked a bit
before schooling her features into a polite smile, "he's not going
to forget you, that's for sure. And that, miss, is half the battle
already won."

"Why in the bloody hell do I have to call on
her?" Graham was not in the mood to argue with his sister. In fact,
he wasn't in the mood for anything other than swiping the French
brandy from his study and drinking till sleep found him.

Because he hadn't slept a wink last
night.

Not even a bloody minute.

Because each time he'd closed his eyes, she
was there. Her deep brown gaze seared through him, igniting a
passion he really wished would remain inexperienced. So, he'd open
his eyes and stare at his ceiling, or the wall, or the fire —
anything that would get his mind off her. Yet everywhere he looked,
he'd grown bored with whatever it was he been gazing at — though it
wasn't shocking. How interesting was a wall, really? He'd relived
their kiss, which in turn, had reminded him of the soft press of
her body against his, the warmth of her lips caressing his own, and
the
flavor
.

Heaven help him, he couldn't forget the
flavor.

It was honey and champagne.

It was desire and surrender.

It was unlike anything he had ever sampled
before, and like an addict he was already craving more.

But that was exactly why calling on Miss
Bethanny Lamont was a very bad idea.

"Bloody hell."

"You've already said that… much as I wish you
wouldn't. What is it that has you in such a foul mood this
morning?" his sister commented sternly, her gaze scrutinizing him
in a way that made his feet itch with guilt.

That was the rub. He
did
feel guilty.
Guilty, because he hadn't recognized her. Guilty, because even
after he had realized just who she was, it hadn't changed the fact
that he'd wanted her.

Badly. And still did.

And finally, he felt guilty because he'd been
asked by his best friend to look out for her. When, in actuality,
all he'd wanted to do was compromise her so that she'd be his.
Which, in turn, would betray his best friend. And possibly cause a
duel, and he'd be the one who deserved the bullet.

"Edward?" his menace of a sister asked
impatiently.

"I'm tired."

"You're not
that
old."

"I
feel
that old," Graham replied,
sitting and resting his head against the back of the chair.

"All the more reason for you to marry this
season then. Am I correct? I never thought I'd see the day when my
baby brother was too tired to chase a skirt."

"See here!" Graham's eyes blinked open
rapidly, and he stood.

"No, no, you're right. You're simply getting
on in years. Why, to be honest, I was thinking the very same thing
last night."

"Pardon?" Graham asked skeptically, his
expression turning to a deep frown.

"Last night," his sister hitched a shoulder,
"when you were dancing with Bethanny. You did seem quite…
fatherly."

"WHAT?" Graham felt his jaw drop.

"You were quite… stoic. I've never seen you
act in such a way with such a beautiful woman. My only answer was
that you felt decidedly paternal."

"Damnation."

"You're quite vulgar this morning. I'd thank
you not to curse any more, my—"

"If you say
ladylike sensibilities,
I
might lose what breakfast I ate." Graham rolled his eyes.
"Father-like? Paternal? I don't even know what to say."

"I was simply offering my observations." His
sister shrugged slightly then raised her hand and examined her
gloves.

"Paternal."

"You're repeating yourself again."

"I can't quite believe you said it."

"Of all the things I've said in my life…
this
is what you cannot get over? Truly?" Her eyebrows shot
up in shock and derision.

"Actually… yes," Graham grumbled.

"Then one must deduct from your response that
your inclinations toward the girl went an opposite direction." A
grin began to tip the upper corners of her mouth, a grin all too
familiar to Graham.

He had been played. By his sister.

And he didn't think the morning could get
worse.

"I have no idea what you're implying." He
strode to the fire and tugged on his cravat.

"You might be dense, but you're not stupid,
Edward. She
is
a very beautiful young lady."

"Who I supposedly have paternal feelings
for," he mocked, his face twisting in a sneer as he glanced to
her.

"Or decidedly unpaternal feelings… perhaps
the feelings of a potential suitor?" she asked, a delighted gleam
in her eye.

Graham wanted to poke her in that blasted
eye.

"Have you lost your mind?" Graham spun and
faced her, calling her bluff and hoping he hadn't exposed just how
close to the truth she was.

"No, I'm quite certain I'm in full possession
of my faculties. You, dear brother, are the one I'm
questioning."

"I, how could, why…" Graham took a deep
breath and turned away from his sister.

"Sputtering always implicates you, Graham.
You might as well admit it." His sister shrugged.

Shrugged,
as if what she was implying
wasn't damning. Or potentially ruining of a lifelong
friendship.

"I admit nothing," Graham spoke through
clenched teeth.

"Admission is not necessary for it to be
true."

"I still do not see why I must pay a call on
her this morning," he replied after a moment.

"Uncomfortable with the topic at hand? Is a
change in conversation necessary? Hmm?" His sister's gaze narrowed
in delight as her lips bent into a knowing grin.

"Actually, if you remember, that very
question was the first that began this whole demented
conversation."

"Demented? I fail to see how that adjective
applies." She raised her chin a notch.

"Demented. Dear sister, most conversations I
partake of that include you often include that very adjective."

"I'm insulted," she huffed.

"But not shocked." Graham grinned.

His sister's eyes narrowed, and if the two
siblings had been younger, he no doubt would have seen her stomp
her foot and growl. However, her irritated expression fazed into a
knowing one.

Graham knew that expression. Whatever she was
thinking was not good.

At least, not good for him.

"You're afraid," she challenged.

"Of what?" Graham scoffed.

"A deb."

"That's… you mean to say… I cannot… won't
dignify that statement with a response." Graham sneered and turned
away.

But stopped when his sister began
clapping.

"Pardon?"

"I'm applauding you," she replied as he
turned an annoyed glare to her.

"For? Or dare I ask?" he replied tightly.

"You finished an entire sentence after your
stammering. You've come quite a long ways. I know how difficult it
must be for you to lie about something so… delicate."

"I—I—" Graham sputtered, fully exasperated
and furious.

"Don't choke, Graham. After all, if you're
not
afraid, why so adamant? And yes, I do believe delicate
is the correct word for this subject, or
woman
." She took a
few steps forward, her smile fading into concerned pinch in her
brow.

Bloody hell, it was the look of pity.

Anything but pity.

"I want to see you settled. You yourself even
said this was the season. There's no way you didn't notice the
girl, Edward. I watched you. I saw your expression. Don't let a
little bit of age difference and an irritable duke stand in the way
of what could be life-changing."

"I have no idea as to what you are
referring," Graham replied succinctly, biting the words as they
came from his mouth.

Wishing that it truly was as simple as his
sister had said. But she hadn't been there when Clairmont had
confided in him. And even though his sister knew him well, she
didn't know him
that
well, and if she did, she certainly
wouldn't be suggesting that he pursue the purity of Bethanny
Lamont. No, she'd be protecting her
from
him. That knowledge
alone was enough to remind him of his place, of his necessity in
staying away from her.

But oh, if she didn't tempt him, then nothing
in this world ever would.

"I appreciate your sentiment. Truly. However,
all is not as you expect, dear sister. You might think differently,
but you are not omnipotent, and in this, you are mistaken." Graham
bowed, turned on his heel, and left.

His sister's silence echoed louder than
anything she could have ever said. She'd known he was lying, just
as easily as he'd known the lie himself. And if he'd known she'd
never believe him, why had he done it?

The truth was far more frightening than the
possibility of admitting his feelings. Because the truth was, he
wanted
to lie to himself, but the problem with lying to
oneself is that one never truly believed it.

Even if one wanted to.

Graham called himself
ten kinds of fool as he handed his card to the butler while he
waited outside the duke's residence. He hadn't even planned to make
a call. It all had started out as a walk to clear his head, and
being near Hyde Park had necessitated that very park be the one
he'd ambled through. However, after that amble, his clarity of mind
had not improved, so he'd continued walking, and had found himself
across the street from the duke's residence.