How to Wed an Earl (8 page)

He narrowed his own eyes with impatience. “I’ve come here to marry Penelope, and I intend to do exactly that.”

Dr. Walker stared into his glass. “I confess I’ve become quite worried about her,” he whispered after a moment. “The men in the village are too ignorant to recognize her wonderful qualities.” He gave Lucas a speculative look. “Her defense of you in the drawing room encourages me. If you’re here to do your duty, my lord, I won’t stand in your way. Polly needs a husband. She deserves to have her own family. She can’t go on living this way for long.”

“She doesn’t seem to agree with you, sir, but I’ll change her mind if you’ll let me.”

The other man turned, glass still in hand, and started to extend his other hand. “Well, that settles that then, don’t you think?”

“Not entirely,” he said, rising to his feet as well. “There are some things I would like to know, sir, if you would be so kind as to answer my questions.”

Dr. Walker’s gray brows rose in astonishment, but he nodded and dropped his frame on the faded green wingback chair adjacent to the settee.

Lucas watched the doctor sit down and get comfortable before walking to the hearth to stoke the fire, which had nearly died down. “I would like for you to tell me what you know of the current Baron Maitland,” he said in a no-nonsense voice as he concentrated on prodding the fire with a poker. “Why has he not provided for Penelope and her mother? One would think Penelope’s father left some provision for them in his will.”

“None whatsoever, my lord.” Dr. Walker sighed. “I know Edmund Maitland was your father’s friend, but the truth is he rarely visited Eleanor and his daughter while he was alive. He spent his days in London and died in a carriage accident with his mistress when Penelope was ten. We started calling her Polly after I married her mother, to make the transition to her new life easier.”

His hand stilled in the act of putting the poker away. “And the current baron? Is he in residence at the moment?”

“I think he is,” Dr. Walker replied. “He’s been known to ignore the London Season and stay in the country sometimes. Are you planning a visit?”

“I doubt there is any need to visit the baron,” he said with cool satisfaction. “I’m content to let sleeping dogs lie for a little bit longer. He will hear of the wedding soon enough.”

“Then why were you so concerned about the baron?”

He turned to face Dr. Walker. “Because I believe Penelope’s father, with the current baron’s help, deliberately hid my fiancée from me when my family’s fortunes took a downward turn.” He knew his smile was cold. “It will be interesting to see Maitland’s reaction when he finds out I’ve married his niece, after all.”

“Well, this news comes as no surprise. I daresay Polly’s father was a coward for trying to weasel out of the betrothal contract. Then again, he lived his life trying to weasel out of a lot of things, don’t you know, including being a husband and father.”

Lucas inclined his head in a respectful gesture. “From what I have learned since coming here, I owe you a great debt of gratitude, Dr. Walker. You have raised Penelope and treated her as your own.”

Dr. Walker grinned. “With all due respect, Ravenstone, I believe your debt of gratitude is a mite premature. Polly hasn’t agreed to marry you yet.”

“She will,” he promised.

Penelope sat in the library, watching Ravenstone eat the last of the scones Gertie had brought in along with the tea.

She’d eaten a fair bit of the scones herself, but with the plate empty, she lost her only excuse to delay giving Lucas the invitation Papa had ordered her to extend before her stepfather left this morning on his rounds. Whatever Lucas and her stepfather talked about in this room last night, it had obviously swayed Papa to the earl’s side.

There was nothing for it but to forge ahead. It would be better to get it over with, before they left for their walk in the village green. Yet Penelope found herself delaying once more. “Were the scones to your liking, my lord?”

Ravenstone leaned back on the settee, his eyes as dark as dueling pistols, glinting in the light from the window as he watched her with what looked like amusement. “They were very fine, nymph.”

“
Nymph?
”

“Mmmm,” he said thoughtfully. “You remind me of a forest nymph, my dear. I thought it the first time I met you. Even more so today, actually. Your ice blue gown calls to mind a clear sky on a winter morning in the woods.”

It irritated her that he called her “nymph” and “my dear,” as if he assumed their relationship had developed to a level where he could casually use affectionate nicknames. The thrill she got from the way he called her those endearments irritated her even more.

She clasped her hands in her lap and studied him, noting his elegant coffee-brown coat and trousers that hugged his powerful build as he lounged on her settee. He looked exactly as she had imagined he would all those years ago. Tall and proud, with features as fierce as his warrior ancestors. Everything about him screamed strength, power and control. She couldn’t see how people ever thought of him as “Raving Ravenstone.”

Surely, the epithet had more to do with his mother than Lucas himself. Penelope could only imagine what it had been like for him, raised by a mother famous for her extreme mood swings. How had it felt when she locked herself in her room for days, attacked by her frequent bouts of melancholia?

What had it been like to have a heartbroken widower of a father suddenly taken from him in a hunting accident, leaving a boy in charge of a dwindling estate and a two-year-old girl?

No wonder Ravenstone held onto his control with ruthless discipline. Many of the things that happened in his life had been beyond his control, including their betrothal.

Her smile was sad when she replied to his comment. “I am no nymph, my lord. I’m merely an ordinary woman trying to make the best of things that have been handed to me.” She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Which brings me to the reason I invited you here before we go for our walk in the village green.”

Penelope raised her head to meet his midnight eyes. “I am to tell you that Papa would be delighted if you were to stay with us here in Highfield Manor for the duration of your visit. We are, after all, engaged. I am sure you will find your accommodations here much more comfortable than The Mucky Duck.”

The look of smug satisfaction on his face made her add her own conditions. “You are, however, to keep in mind that we have a set budget for things such as food, candles and firewood. I doubt Papa thought about that when he invited you to stay with us.” It was difficult to keep a straight face when his dark brows met in dismay. “We will, of course, need to ration our resources — eat smaller meals, use fewer candles and such — to make certain the entire household gets to have those necessities.”

“You are enjoying this, are you not?”

She sat just a little bit straighter on the settee. “What do you mean, my lord?”

He made a gesture that encompassed the whole house. “Being in charge. Do not worry, nymph, I will make a contribution toward my lodging.”

“You don’t have to do that, sir.”

“And you don’t have to call me ‘sir,’” he stated in a voice typically reserved for announcing royal edicts. “I am only six years older than you are, and yesterday you called me Lucas. Considering the kiss we shared, I think we are past titular ceremony, don’t you?”

She tried to hide the blush his words brought by brushing imaginary lint from her skirts. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

“Very well, then.” Heavens, she didn’t know how much longer she could talk without addressing him as anything at all.

It was disconcerting how he seemed so at ease discussing their kiss, as if the topic were on the same level as the weather. For him, kissing must be so commonplace that it was nothing more significant than the state of atmospheric humidity. An attractive, titled gentleman would have no shortage of women volunteering to kiss him.

She frowned. Her lack of experience and his obvious amusement was making her edgy.

Still, for the next few days, this enigmatic man would be courting her. His blatant masculinity made her feel very feminine; she might as well enjoy it. She just had to remember to keep her heart in check, because she had no intention of letting him break it again.

“Are you ready to leave?” she asked. “It’s good to be visible at this time of day, when the village is at its busiest.”

“Why do you want to be on display?”

“I told you, it’s best if people saw us together. When we break the betrothal, they’ll assume it’s because our personalities didn’t suit, not because we hated each other on sight.”

“And once they see us together, your stepfather’s creditors would be more amenable to extending the loan repayment schedule,” he stated flatly.

Penelope started. Astonished, she caught his predatory look. “What did you say?” she croaked.

“You heard me,” Lucas drawled, openly relishing her chagrin. “Did you honestly think you’d be able to hide your little secret for long? That I wouldn’t figure it out?”

She squirmed beneath his intense gaze. “I planned to tell you about it.”

“When?”

“After the loan’s been repaid,” she confessed.

Lucas chuckled at her admission of guilt, but he refused to relent. “How long have you been using my name to delay the repayment process?”

“Not very long.”

“Define ‘very.’”

“Six months,” she bit out, deciding there was no reason to dissemble further. “If it makes you feel any better, my lord,” she continued when she noted the earl’s self-satisfied look, “using your name wasn’t my first choice. I originally planned to claim I was engaged to a bold, virile, honorable shipping magnate whom I would marry upon his return from the high seas.”

Lucas frowned.

She gave him a dazzling smile. “However, to my unbearable consternation, I remembered I was already betrothed to
you
. I, therefore, had no alternative but to adapt my story to the known history of my life.” She shrugged. “It would have been more exciting to be the pretend fiancée of an adventurous shipping magnate, but I suppose one can’t have everything.”

“You do realize I could sue you for this,” he warned.

“You do realize I had little choice in the matter,” Penelope shot back. “I never meant for your lordship to be inconvenienced by my scheme. How was I to know you’d come galloping to Bouth?”

“I’m pleased to find you didn’t mean to cause any inconvenience,” he replied with sarcasm. “But the deed is done, and my name has been bandied about without my consent. Thus, I’m afraid I have to insist we modify our bargain’s terms.”

“What did you have in mind?”

His smile was thoroughly wolfish. “In return for participating in your scheme, you will agree to let me court you, and you will seriously contemplate accepting my suit.”

Penelope blinked. “That’s it?”

Something akin to pride lit his eyes. “Yes, nymph, that’s it,” he confirmed, his voice gentle, light. Caressing.

She stood up abruptly. “Well, that settles it then. If you would kindly wait here, I’ll go upstairs to fetch my pelisse, and we can leave for our walk.”

It was time to put on a show for people. A show — nothing more — but she vowed it would be the best one this village had ever seen.

• • •

Penelope was not oblivious to the looks the gentry were giving her and Lucas as they promenaded through the village green that afternoon. Everyone smiled at her, as always, but their gazes would skitter to the earl and then dart away.

For heaven’s sake, she knew he had a reputation, but it was silly for people to act as if they expected him to explode into a fit of temper without any provocation.

It had been much better this morning, when they were going through the shops, buying supplies for Highfield Manor. The merchants did not care who bought their wares as long as they had enough blunt to pay for their purchases, and they were very happy to entertain the business of someone who looked like he could buy the entire shop.

Lucas’s presence did make it harder to bargain, however. Mr. Wilkes, the butcher, had taken one look at the earl and gave her full price for the meat order. “Well, if that doesn’t butter the crumpets,” she muttered to Lucas as they left the butcher’s. “Your presence is making the merchants less flexible with their prices. The meat cost me a third less the last time I visited here.”

A corner of the earl’s hard mouth curved into a half smile. “My apologies, nymph. Had I known you had a reputation for bargaining in these parts, I would have dressed in my jarvey attire.”

She looked up at him with a hopeful expression. “Do you really have simpler clothes?” She paused. “Oh, I see. You find this funny. Well, laugh away, but don’t blame me when we run out of candles before the week is through because your presence made the tallow more expensive.”

“Since I seem to be the reason for driving the prices up,” he murmured as he nodded his head to acknowledge a villager who crossed their path on the pavement, “it is only fair I shoulder the fee for the supplies purchased while I lodge with your family.”

She gaped at him, overwhelmed by the generosity he was showing to an unwanted fiancée’s stepfamily. “We are not destitute, my lord. I assure you, I manage our accounts very well. I would not have agreed to invite you to stay with us if I could not find a way to afford it.”

The look of amused indulgence disappeared from his eyes. “Call me Lucas.”

“Lucas,” she said softly, noting that the muscles in his arm relaxed under her hand. “I do not want to cause you any more trouble than I already have.”
And I won’t let you bribe me into marrying you
, she added silently.

“It’s no trouble.” He stopped walking and turned her to face him. “I have neglected my duty to you for two decades. Let me make up for it by making it easier on you and your family while I stay with you.”

“But — ”

“Penelope,” he said in a quiet but firm tone as they started walking again. “If you do not let me pay for these purchases, I will make the orders myself and have the bills sent to me.”