Wedding Night With the Earl (17 page)

And to dance!

Could he?

Could she?

After all these years, should she defy the commands of her aunt, uncles, and all the physicians who’d looked at her leg and throw down her cane and try to live without it?

Lord Greyhawke made her think and say and do things that no other man had come close to even tempting her do. But what was she to do with all these pent-up feelings of dancing and womanly desires that he’d stirred up inside her if he wouldn’t come to the balls and parties and make himself available?

Chapter 16

You are not wood, you are not stones, but men.

—Julius Caesar,
act 3, scene 2

It was the most nondescript building on London’s most fashionable street. The Heirs’ Club. It didn’t have the notoriety, the membership, or the reputation of the older, prestigious White’s, but it had an exclusivity that neither White’s nor any other gentleman’s club could boast. No gentleman could join unless he was titled or an heir to a title.

Adam stood on the pavement in front of the door to the famed club, waiting, as he always had, for his friend Bray to arrive and gain him entrance, but this would be the last time. In all his years of coming to the club, Adam never thought he’d be a member. With Bray, he’d never needed to be. After today, he would be a member and could come and go as he wished.

While in his twenties, when he was often a guest at the club, Adam was third or maybe fourth in line for the title of Earl of Greyhawke. Inheriting it wasn’t something that ever crossed his mind. And even now, it wasn’t that he wanted or even needed to join, but Bray and Harrison wouldn’t rest until he did.

The Duke of Drakestone had always been his voucher past the stiff-lipped attendant who guarded the door as if the king’s diamond-encrusted scepter were held inside. Unlike Adam and Harrison, Bray had been born an heir. Though his admittance into the elite club hadn’t been easy for him to come by when he came of age. And Adam and Harrison were the main reasons.

The three of them had met at Eton. All were tall, strong, and capable of most anything for their young age, and they had done plenty that was foolish and often dangerous, too. They excelled at whatever they did and seldom had to put in the same amount of study time as most of the other boys at the school, which left the trio with time and an eagerness to do the things they enjoyed. That usually meant getting into trouble with the headmaster and Bray’s stern father, who had been a hard taskmaster.

Years ago, the three of them had almost caused a rift in the membership at the Heirs’ Club. Some of the oldest members didn’t want Bray to join because they knew he’d invite Adam and Harrison to join him there—often. Which he did. With little chance of Adam and Harrison ever being an heir, at the time, most of the members didn’t want the well-known troublemakers in their quiet, respectable club.

No surprise to any of them, Bray’s father, who was a powerful duke himself at the time, had remained silent on the matter, but Bray had an older friend who’d stood up for him, and the disgruntled members had been forced to back down. So even though Adam, Harrison, and Bray had enjoyed their raucous game of cards complete with ribald jokes, loud, salacious songs, and an abundance of fine brandy when they were at the stilted Heirs’ Club, they’d managed to stay just under the threshold of getting kicked out onto the street and told never to return.

The brisk wind whipped around Adam’s neck and he lifted his collar, wondering how long he’d been waiting for his friends. Either he was early or they were late.

He tipped his hat to a couple of older ladies who walked by. He shifted his weight and looked up and down the street. No sign of Harrison or Bray. The door to the club opened and he nodded to the gentleman who walked out as he passed.

“Lord Greyhawke.”

Adam looked up to see the old attendant, who’d managed the door ever since he’d been coming to the club with Bray, smiling at him. The man had never had a pleasant expression for him.

“No need to stand out in the cold. Come on in and have a drink while you wait. I’ll tell the duke you’re inside.”

That was a big change. Adam had never been allowed entrance before Bray arrived. But then, he’d never been an earl when visiting the club, either.

He handed off his coat, hat, and gloves to the man and then made his way to the taproom. From another part of the club, he heard the sound of billiard balls smacking together, followed by muted laughter. Someone was either very good with a cue stick and getting the accolades he deserved, or he was very bad and getting punished with laughter.

Adam smiled to himself and followed the direction of the hum of chatter down the corridor and into the taproom. He couldn’t help notice that several of the patrons looked up at him and the room slowly fell silent as he entered. Their reaction didn’t surprise him. No doubt the members still considered him the wild youth he was a few years ago and, as always, every time he entered they wondered if this would be the time he disturbed the peace and quiet of their respectable club.

Except for the Duke of Quillsbury’s dinner party, he hadn’t been to a public gathering since arriving in London. Though it wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about attending the evening parties. He’d even wanted to when he’d first arrived. What he hadn’t expected was to gaze into sparkling green eyes and be mesmerized by a young lady who refused to dance with him.

Ever since that first look, his feelings for Miss Katherine Wright had taken root, and against all his efforts they were deepening. There was something about her that gave him a warm, contented feeling when he thought of her. And after his stint on the cold northern coast, it was damn hard to deny himself someone as intoxicatingly sweet as Miss Wright.

Adam asked for ale as he passed the bar and picked out a table in the far corner to sit down. He hoped Bray and Harrison arrived soon. He didn’t want to have time to sit and think. When he did, it was usually Miss Wright he was thinking about.

He’d been tempted to attend the parties the last couple of nights just so he could see her. It had been difficult, but he’d managed to resist the enticement to go. Seeing her in the park had convinced him he needed to keep his distance. Knowing that he wanted to see her made him realize he didn’t need to see her. And that was the very reason he was declining all invitations. He hadn’t come to London looking for a young lady to bewitch him with her charms, and she was very close to doing that.

“Who am I trying to fool?” he whispered. She wasn’t close to bewitching him. She had. All he thought about when he looked at Miss Wright was that he wanted to make her his. But that could never happen.

After spending his days trying to make sense out of ledgers and documents, he’d been filling his nights reading the history of the Greyhawke legacy. Since he was never supposed to be the earl, he hadn’t been schooled on the extensiveness of the entailed property or what the first Earl of Greyhawke had done to receive the peerage from the king.

Another thing Adam wouldn’t allow himself to think about was his two best friends’ wives being in the family way. He was happy for them. Bray and Harrison needed sons; they deserved sons. But their wives’ upcoming time wasn’t something he wanted to hear about.

He was also spending more time with Dixon each evening, teaching him how to play chess. The lad seemed to have a keen aptitude for strategy, which kept the pastime from being boring. Reading and the games had kept him occupied so he wouldn’t change his mind and go to the balls.

As soon as the server set his tankard down, Adam saw Bray walk in.

“I know I’m late,” Bray said after they had greeted each other and he had taken the chair opposite Adam. “I thought Harrison would be here by now, too.”

“I just arrived myself. For the first time, the attendant at the door offered to let me come inside rather than have me wait outside for you. Perhaps that’s why I feel like everyone is looking rather strangely at me today.”

“I don’t think any of the members of the Heirs’ Club would be happy to hear one of the staff had left an earl outside in the cold. But it could be that others are looking at you for another reason.”

“Do they still believe that our presence is going to somehow tarnish this sacred club?”

“That is probably a good bet, too, but that isn’t what I’m talking about either. Did you read
The Times
today?”

“No,” Adam said on a laugh. “I’m still trying to get through years of account books and documentation, trying to familiarize myself with the Greyhawke estates and businesses and how they work.” Bray looked a bit serious, so Adam added, “Why?”

“I take it, then, you haven’t seen the scandal sheets or any of the gossip columns today?”

Damnation, Adam didn’t even want to think about that. He had a feeling he knew what Bray was talking about. He grabbed his tankard by the handle and took a drink, then replaced it on the table before saying, “If I had time to read the news, the latest tittle-tattle wouldn’t be the first section I’d go to. I can assume by the expression on your face that I’m mentioned in at least one of them.”

“All of them, actually, according to Louisa. I took her word for it. And you weren’t mentioned alone.”

That confirmed Adam’s fear. He shifted in his chair. “I expected as much. What did they say?”

Bray motioned to the server for a drink. “That after most everyone had left the Duke of Quillsbury’s dinner party, you were caught holding Miss Wright in your arms.”

“Hellfire,” he whispered.

“So it’s true?”

“Yes, it’s true,” Adam said, swearing again under his breath. “But I was carrying her because she had fallen. I had picked her up.”

Bray remained silent, his features stoic.

“You don’t believe me?”

“No, no, I do,” Bray said, leaning back in his chair as the server placed a tankard of ale in front of him. “If you say it, I believe it. You have no reason to lie to me.”

“She uses a cane, you know.”

“Everyone knows,” Bray said dryly.

“I assume her walking is unsteady at times. The truth is, I don’t know why she fell. Maybe it was because she was on uneven ground.”

“So she was outside when she fell?”

“Yes.”

“With you?” Bray asked.

“At the time. Yes. And just so you know, her uncles were quite pleased I picked her up and carried her into the house. Unfortunately, her uncles weren’t the only ones who saw me do that. Three other gentlemen were also there.”

“Obviously one of them decided to talk about it.”

Adam leaned over the table. “If I knew which one, I’d—”

“Do nothing,” Bray cut him off. “That would only stir up more gossip for the two of you, and it sounds as if you have more than you can handle for now.”

“More? Why do you say that?”

“One of the scandal sheets wrote something outlandish about you and Miss Wright exchanging dinner plates at the duke’s table. What kind of madness will the gossipmongers come up with next?” Bray paused. “You didn’t, did you?… You did.”

“It’s a long story and best told when we’re old and gray and have nothing better to talk about. That is not important, but she really fell.” And he was still trying to figure out why, when by all he could tell from watching her, she could probably walk without that cane if she tried.

Adam took a long drink from his tankard. He wondered how Miss Wright was handling this debacle. She was the strongest young lady he could remember ever meeting, but no young lady would be immune to the horrors of having gossip spread about her.

“I believe you, but why did she fall?” Bray asked.

“I don’t know. And that is the truth. Was there anything else written?” Adam asked cautiously.

“Wasn’t that enough?” Bray’s eyes narrowed. “What else could there be? Wait a minute. You didn’t kiss her, did you?”

Oh, yes!

Adam remained silent.

“Tell me you didn’t kiss her. And at the duke’s house.… You did. You probably kissed her right under his nose.”

“On her front lawn,” Adam said, knowing there was no use denying it to Bray. They had been friends too long to try to hide anything from him. “I’m surprised that wasn’t mentioned. Somehow they seemed to have heard everything else.”

“If you kissed her on her front lawn, you can probably expect to see that in the scandal sheets tomorrow.”

Adam didn’t even want to consider that possibility.

“Were you trying to leg shackle yourself?”

“No,” Adam insisted.

“Were you trying to ruin her reputation?” Bray pressed him again.

Adam stiffened. “You know better than to even suggest that. I wanted to kiss her, so I did. That is all there is to it. A simple kiss.”

Maybe it wasn’t so simple.

“Perhaps you should have at least waited until the second or third time you saw her before you kissed her.”

Waited? He wished he hadn’t done it at all.

He couldn’t explain it, but Adam felt as if it were the third time he’d seen her. They’d had three separate meetings and conversations over the course of the evening. And by the third, he felt as though he’d always known her, that they had been waiting for the right time to kiss.

“What are you going to do?”

Adam studied over Bray’s question. “There is nothing for me to do. The truth is, she fell. I picked her up. Her uncles believe that. She can weather this,” he continued, but he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself or Bray. “Her uncles were happy I was carrying her, and I suspect His Grace can quiet the ton if he so chooses.”

“And what about next time?”

“What?”

“You know what I mean. What about the next time you kiss her? And don’t try to tell me that you have decided you are no longer interested in her.”

Oh, there was interest all right. All he was thinking right now was that he wanted to see her and make sure she was all right. He wanted to know that she was handling the gossip the way she handled her “unusual gait,” with strength that said,
This will not defeat me
. She didn’t appear to be the kind of young lady who would hide from Society at the first sign of gossip.