Undressed by the Earl (9 page)

David’s hands curled into fists. It wasn’t his concern, nor should he care what happened between the young woman and the viscount. But seeing the notorious rake flirting with her made him want to snatch her out of harm’s way. Amelia deserved better. She couldn’t see that it was all a game to Lisford.

And damn it all, he didn’t want her to lose her heart to a man who would only destroy it. Not when he could save her.

“Margaret will be delighted to see you.” Amelia greeted Lord Castledon after the footman escorted him inside the parlor. She hadn’t known if the earl would attend the party or not, but she was glad he’d come. He had also brought a gift for Matthew, and from the shape of it, Amelia already knew what it was—a hobbyhorse. It was wrapped in brown paper with a bright ribbon. The footman accepted it from the earl and took it over to the table of gifts.

Secretly, Amelia believed that she could conjure a true love match between Lord Castledon and her sister. Margaret and he had both had their hearts broken. Wasn’t it logical that they could get on with their lives together? She was convinced of it.

The earl stood at the edge of the room, as if not wanting to intrude. Once again, he was wearing black. Though it had been many years since his wife had died, it seemed that he’d never bothered to change out of mourning garb. That would have to change if he intended to seek a new wife.

“Do you own anything other than black?” Amelia whispered beneath her breath while standing beside him.

His mouth tilted at one corner. Leaning in, he kept his voice low. “No.”

“You really ought to visit a tailor,” she murmured. “Your clothes are gloomy. It will be far easier to catch a woman’s attention when you don’t resemble an undertaker.”

“But I never have any difficulty finding attire that matches,” he pointed out. “I’m told that black suits my features very well.”

“If you intend to remain in mourning, yes.” She let out a sigh and added, “Buy a dark green waistcoat. It would make a good start.”

“And here I thought you’d ask me to wear orange.” His sardonic look caught her unawares, and she suddenly felt small beside him.

Her skin tingled with awareness of how he’d whispered in her ear. Goodness, but he was tall. She smiled up at him, but it was a way of hiding the sudden rush of nerves. It made little sense at all, why she would feel anxious around this man. But when he stared back, her imagination shocked her as she wondered what it would be like to kiss this man.

Amelia had never been kissed, though she’d seen her sisters kissing their spouses when they thought she wasn’t looking. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of Lord Castledon’s mouth upon hers.

No. Absolutely not. Clearly she hadn’t eaten enough breakfast, and it was addling her brain.

If there was any man’s lips she ought to be imagining, it should be Lord Lisford’s. She shut her eyes a moment, clearing the thought away. She’d already chosen her potential husband, and it would never be a man who was still besotted with his dead wife.

“Next month, you can try orange.” With that, she led the earl over to her aunt Charlotte, who was watching over her five-year-old son, Matthew. The boy was nearly bouncing with excitement, and he chattered unceasingly with his aunts and uncles.

“You’ve met my aunt, Lady Arnsbury, I know.” Amelia stood back while the earl dutifully greeted her aunt Charlotte. His eyes passed over the other guests, who were all family members. Her parents were there, along with her sisters. The Duke of Worthingstone stood behind his wife, Victoria. Their three-year-old son, Christopher, was eyeing the table of gifts as if he believed they were for him.

It was blatantly obvious that Lord Castledon was the only person there who was not family, and he sent her a pointed look. Amelia refused to feel guilty about it. Here, among family, Margaret would be less worried about what other people would think. She might be more willing to loosen up some of her rigid rules and show the softer side of herself.

Besides that, their family knew how to have fun. And fun was something that Sir Personality-of-a-Handkerchief had not enjoyed in a long time.

“Why don’t you go and play
The House of Virtues
with Margaret?” Amelia suggested. Her sister sat at a nearby table with the linen game board and tin pieces. She’d been trying to teach Matthew how to play, but he’d abandoned it after five minutes.

“I haven’t played that game since I was a child,” he countered. “I think I’d rather stand back and watch.”

Of course he would. Amelia sighed, for this was going to be a greater challenge than she’d suspected.

“You are not here to be a wall hedge,” Amelia reminded him. “That’s not the reason you were invited.”

He sent her a sidelong glance. “And here I thought I was meant to enjoy myself?”

She stopped, realizing that in her quest to bring her sister and the earl together, her meddling was transforming her into a shrew. Which wasn’t her intent at all.

Amelia forced herself to soften her tone. “Of course, I want you to enjoy yourself and get to know my family.” She smiled, trying to make him see. “But I don’t want you to feel left out, either.” The more he remained outside the others, the less likely it was that she could engage in matchmaking between Margaret and him.

His blue eyes locked upon hers, as if he were trying to see past her carefully laid plans. At last, he nodded. “Only if you come with me.”

She let out a sigh. “I don’t think you need a chaperone in a room full of people, Lord Castledon.”

“Either you play with us, or I don’t play at all.” He crossed his arms and regarded her like a man who had nothing to lose. She didn’t know why he was forcing the issue, but he was leaving her with no choice.

“We play for wagers,” Amelia cautioned him. “And we cheat all the time. You’ve been warned.”

He offered her his arm as they walked toward Margaret. “I thought your family was honorable.”

“Not when it comes to children’s games. Prepare to be beaten soundly.” He was going to regret cornering her like this. Amelia brightened at the thought, but the earl’s hand moved to the base of her spine when they reached her sister.
It means nothing
, she told herself. But the fleeting touch was enough to scatter her thoughts.

“Margaret, we’re going to teach Lord Castledon how
The House of Virtues
is truly played,” she began, taking a seat across from her sister and thereby forcing the earl to sit between them.

“Are you
trying
to frighten him off, Amelia?” Margaret sent her a dismayed look. “I’m certain he has little interest in a children’s game.” To the earl, she added, “There’s no need for you to endure it, my lord.”

Her sister was not helping. Didn’t she realize that this was their way of getting to know one another? Amelia sent her a dark look, but Margaret ignored it.

“I am intrigued by the promise of rampant cheating,” the earl said. “Rest assured, Miss Andrews, I am quite capable of keeping up with the pair of you.” The earl sat down and reached for the teetotum. “Shall we spin to see who will go first?”

“No, the youngest goes first,” Amelia said, snatching it out of his hands. She spun the teetotum, and when it landed on a one, she promptly rotated it to a four.

“That was a one,” the earl pointed out. “I saw it.”

She sent him a brilliant smile of innocence and was rewarded by a faint look of discomfort in his eyes. “It looked like a four to me.” Then she passed it to Margaret, who spun a six.

The earl’s teetotum landed on a two, but he didn’t adjust the number. Instead, he rested his palms on the table, studying the board the way he would an enemy. His piercing blue eyes narrowed upon the embroidered linen game board, as if forming his strategy.

Amelia held out a handful of tin tokens. “Which would you rather be? The knight, the dog, or the maiden?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Not the maiden.”

“The dog it is!” She beamed at him, just as he stole the knight from her hands.

“A valiant effort, Miss Andrews. But the game has only begun.” The sensual tone of his voice made her mood shift. There was a hint of a smile on his face, and she wondered if he was talking about more than this children’s game. Sometimes the earl could be deceiving, revealing only what he chose to convey. His clothing was impeccably neat, and his dark hair was combed back so that it contrasted against his skin. Amelia found herself wondering what it would be like to rumple that hair. She suspected that behind his polished exterior was a wilder man, one who
didn’t
obey rules.

Or perhaps that was only her imagination. So often, he hung back from everyone else, content to be alone.

Margaret handed the tin dog to Amelia, and the game began. But with each move, Amelia sensed that the pair was plotting against her. Every once in a while, her sister would exchange a look with the earl, one that suggested she knew something Amelia didn’t. There seemed to be an unspoken conversation happening between them.

Although the pair of them likely intended to cheat in order to win the game, Amelia didn’t mind. If it meant losing this match to make her sister smile again, it would be worth it.

But when Amelia made her next move, she saw the earl’s eyes upon her. A shiver rose up over her skin, and she couldn’t stop her pulse from quickening.

He was staring at her, and she shifted her piece forward too many squares.

“I saw that,” he remarked.

“No, you didn’t. I’ve heard that men often need spectacles as they get older.”

Margaret let out a sigh. “You mustn’t let her bother you, Lord Castledon. She’s
always
like this, and I have to live with her.”

Amelia steepled her fingers and flashed the earl a bright smile.
Not for long, if I get my way.

David couldn’t remember the last time he’d played a game with so much cheating. Amelia had openly moved her tin piece too many squares forward, and when he’d corrected her, Margaret had subtly moved her own piece.

They were like wolves, taking turns attacking their prey.

Amelia’s face was flushed, and she bit one edge of her lip while she slipped a glance at him.

“Don’t,” he warned.

Her foot brushed against his as she put her game piece back where it had been. The gentle nudge was meant to be playful, but he froze at the touch.

Now he was beginning to wonder why he’d come here at all. Margaret Andrews might be the woman he was meant to get acquainted with, but it was her sister who was provoking stronger reactions.

He didn’t need or want Amelia Andrews in his life. David pushed back his chair, creating a physical distance between them, and he decided it was time to end the game.

Margaret and Amelia had begun writing down wagers on a scrap of paper, pretending to keep score.

“What exactly are we wagering?” he murmured beneath his breath. It was bad enough that they were playing a children’s game. Gambling was even more inappropriate.

“Oh, anything.” Amelia shrugged. “Sometimes we wager for favors.”

He wasn’t certain that was a good idea. Even more disturbing was that his mind was conjuring the vision of favors from Amelia, not Margaret. A light flush came over her cheeks, as if she’d read his wayward thoughts. “What sort of favors?” he asked.

“Not
that
kind,” Margaret chided him.

“Sometimes we wager for confections,” Amelia said. “If I lose, I’ll buy Margaret a sugared plum. Or if she loses, she’ll loan me one of her gowns.”

“What if I win?” he suggested.

Margaret set down the teetotum, her expression worried. “I suppose we could buy you a sugared plum, if you wish it, Lord Castledon.” From the tension in her posture, he sensed that she was wary of the direction of their conversation.

“I don’t care for sweets,” he said.

“You don’t like sweets?” Amelia was aghast. “What sort of a man
are
you?”

He gave no explanation, but kept his expression neutral. “You could buy a doll for my daughter, or a toy, if you’d like.”

At that, Margaret relaxed. “Higher stakes, then.”