Wedding Night With the Earl (3 page)

Pharaoh hadn’t been as accommodating. Adam had to keep the dog close to his side. The new surroundings and activity of so many strangers in the house had him either barking or pacing for most of the day. Adam kept thinking he’d have time to take the restless Pyrenees for a walk, but that hadn’t happened.

One good thing about coming back to London as the new Earl of Greyhawke was that Adam didn’t have to go back to the house he’d shared with Annie. He knew he had to do something with the property one day, but not right now. Learning that as Lord Greyhawke he had a well-staffed house in Mayfair waiting for his arrival made his decision to return to London a bit easier to shoulder.

When he’d arrived yesterday, Clark, the butler, and Mrs. Goodstone, the housekeeper, had stared at him as if he’d come from a strange part of the world. He guessed that to some extent, they were right in their assessment of him. His best commoners’ clothing didn’t come close to the quality of a poor nobleman’s frock, let alone the finery of a prosperous earl. Adam had pulled his hair back in a queue like a proper gentleman, but by the expressions on the servants’ faces, it did little to alleviate their fears that the earldom had been commandeered by a common mischief maker. Which was the main reason he’d sent for a tailor right away.

He could have told them that he was more shocked than they were about the turn of events. Bearing the title of earl wasn’t the way he’d envisioned living out his life. But now that he had accepted the role, he would be a good and proper custodian of the earldom and guardian for Dixon.

Now the solicitors and tailors were gone and the day was late. Lamps and fires had been lit, and the house was quiet once again. But there was one more thing Adam wanted to do before he poured himself a much needed glass of port. He had to take Pharaoh for a long walk, and it would probably be good for Dixon to get out of the house for a while, too.

Adam closed the ledger he’d been studying and placed the quill in its holder. He was about to push his chair away from his desk when Pharaoh started barking from the front of the house.

At the cottage, Adam would have ignored such an outburst from his dog because he often barked at squirrels, rabbits, and other small animals that roamed the land. But because Mrs. Goodstone and the other maids were still wary of such a large dog in the house, Adam rose from his desk to investigate.

Before he made it across the room, he heard familiar male voices and laughter join the barking. His steps lightened. Rounding the doorway, he saw Bray and Harrison standing in the vestibule. Pharaoh jumped on first one and then the other as they patted his head and shoulders and rubbed his back. The quiet butler stood to the side, looking mystified by the merriment taking place.

Adam smiled at the sight of them. Shortly after Mr. Hopscotch’s visit, Adam had penned short messages to both his friends, saying he would be returning to London but his arrival date was uncertain. He should have known they would be keeping watch for him.

“How did you two blackguards know I was in Town?” Adam asked, walking down the corridor toward them. “I only arrived late yesterday afternoon.”

“Don’t you remember, my friend?” Bray said as Pharaoh continued to jump up on his chest, demanding attention. “There are no secrets in London.”

“And keep in mind there are no hiding places, either,” Harrison added as Adam shook hands with him and clapped Bray on the back, greeting them both warmly.

It was always good to see his childhood friends. Adam had never told them, but he’d appreciated their visits to Yorkshire to see him the past two years. He knew they feared they’d be intrusive, but they hadn’t been. They’d been welcomed. He didn’t think he’d ever let them know that, and he should have.

“Pharaoh, down,” Adam said as the tall, strapping men tried to shrug out of their coats and gloves and give attention to Pharaoh, too. The dog woofed and jumped on Adam, wagging his long, sweeping tail excitedly. “Sit, Pharaoh, sit,” he said, and rubbed the Pyrenees’s head when he quickly obeyed.

“It’s been too long, Adam,” Harrison said. “It’s about time you decided to come back.”

“And I’m damn glad you did,” Bray added, clapping him on the back again. “I wasn’t looking forward to that long, cold ride up to the north country this spring.”

“Now you don’t have to,” Adam answered. “Come into the drawing room where there’s a fire. We’ll have a drink.”

The coats were handed off to Clark, and the three men and Pharaoh walked into the drawing room. Harrison and Bray settled into the comfortable wingback chairs that faced a settee. Adam strolled over to the side table to pour three glasses of port. He heard his friends talking in low tones and looked up. Bray was leaning toward Harrison and seemed intent on whatever he was saying.

“What are you two whispering about?” Adam asked, replacing the stopper on the decanter.

“Nothing,” Bray said quickly, and sat back in his chair.

“It didn’t sound like nothing.” Adam picked up the three glasses between his two hands and started toward them. “I’d say that one of you is looking to pick a fight with me and that the other is wisely trying to talk him out of it.”

Harrison chuckled and took the drink Adam offered. “We’ve certainly done a lot of that in our lives, but not today. Bray was just saying that now you’re in London we must get you down to the Heirs’ Club so you can officially apply for membership.”

“Yes,” Bray agreed, and took his glass. “But Harrison thought it might be a little too soon for you to do that.” Bray looked at Harrison. “He knows I think the sooner the better.”

“Then once again, I bow to you being the duke and knowing more about this than I do,” Harrison said, and lifted his glass in a mock salute to Bray. “Let’s just go ahead and do it right now.”

Adam had no reason to doubt what they were saying, but the two men seemed oddly uncomfortable with each other. “No. Wait a minute,” he said, lowering his frame into the blue velvet settee. “While it might be good for you right now, it’s not good for me. It’s been a hell of a day. Not only that, as you can see I don’t have proper clothing yet. I would like to take my time and settle into London quietly, if you don’t mind.”

Harrison threw another glance in Bray’s direction. “He needs more time. We’ll take it slowly.”

“Good,” Adam said. “I want to be able to walk through the door of that club and order a drink without having Bray by my side, but it won’t be today or tomorrow.”

“Why don’t we make the Heirs’ Club your first outing in London?” Harrison asked. “We’ll meet there whenever you—”

Harrison stopped, and Adam looked behind him to see what had caught his friend’s attention. Dixon stood quietly in the doorway, twisting his hands together and looking at them curiously. Like Adam, he had been fitted for new clothing, but today he was still dressed as a commoner.

“Perhaps there’s something you need to tell us first,” Harrison said, raising his brows in surprise.

“I might as well.” Adam motioned for Dixon to come into the room. When the boy stood beside Adam, Adam turned to his friends and said, “Your Grace, my lord, may I present Master Dixon Greyhawke. Dixon, the Duke of Drakestone and the Earl of Thornwick. My oldest friends.”

The lad bowed low, rose, looked up at them, and said, “Pleased to meet you, Your Grace, my lord.”

Harrison and Bray put down their glasses, stood up, and greeted Dixon, who promptly said to them, “I’m going to be as tall as you are one day. My mum said I would be.”

“I suppose she was right,” Bray agreed.

“How old are you?” Harrison asked.

“Five,” Dixon said, displaying the fingers on one small hand for them. “I’ll be six before year’s end.”

Adam knew his friends were curious about Dixon, but Adam couldn’t talk freely in front of the lad. He excused himself and went to find Clark. He asked the butler to have a footman go with Dixon and Pharaoh for a walk in the park. Adam then returned to the drawing room, made himself comfortable on the settee again, and picked up his glass of port.

“So tell us about the boy,” Bray said.

“He arrived at my door little more than a month ago with a man by the name of Mr. Alfred Hopscotch.”

Bray and Harrison looked at each other, and Adam asked, “You know him?”

“The Prince’s emissary who takes his job very seriously,” Harrison said, then took a sip of his drink.

“We’ve both had encounters with the man for different reasons,” Bray added. “We should have known he would eventually get around to seeing you about something, too.”

“He’s a difficult man to say no to.”

“We know,” Bray and Harrison said at the same time.

“So tell us who Dixon is and why he is here with you in London,” Bray said.

“I’ll make this short. He’s my cousin and next in line for the title, and thereby my heir.”

Bray and Harrison exchanged uncomfortable glances again.

“Maybe you should settle back with your drink and tell us the long version of the story,” Harrison suggested.

“There’s not that much to tell. I had never met Dixon. I can’t say I even knew about him until Hopscotch brought him to my house.”

Adam briefly told them about his long conversation with Mr. Hopscotch and that because of Dixon, Adam had accepted his duties as the Earl of Greyhawke so that he could one day hand over a wealthy, thriving legacy to Dixon. Adam ended by saying, “The easiest explanation is that, once again, fate gave me no choice about my life.”

“It seldom does,” Harrison said solemnly.

Harrison would know something of what Adam was feeling. Harrison’s brother and family had died from the ravages of a fever just over a year ago, unexpectedly making Harrison the new Earl of Thornwick.

“So when you say Dixon is your heir, you mean that he is until you marry and have a son.”

Adam held up his hand and shook his head for good measure. “No, I mean my heir to take over the title. There will be no more marriages, no more babes, for me. I will not go through that hell again.”

“Surely you don’t mean—”

“I do,” Adam cut in. “Dixon is my heir.”

Bray and Harrison shifted in their chairs. He supposed he could understand their unease. They were both happily wed. “Now when will I get to meet the duchess and the countess?” Adam asked.

“Soon,” Bray said, looking at Harrison before taking a sip of his drink.

“Do you plan to enjoy the parties, balls, and other festivities of the Season?” Harrison asked.

“I will,” Adam said, and looked down at his worn clothing and laughed. “But only after I’ve made a transformation and become a proper earl. I doubt I’d be welcomed in anyone’s house dressed as I am.” He stopped and smiled. “Just because I don’t plan to ever marry again doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy the company of sweet-smelling, beautiful young ladies at a ball or the warm bed of a mistress. I am still a man, after all.”

Chapter 4

Society is no comfort

To one not sociable.

—Cymbeline,
act 4, scene 2

News of the Earl of Greyhawke’s arrival in London spread across the Town like a whirlwind. Within a few days, Adam had more invitations to dinners, card parties, and balls than he could possibly attend. He’d discounted them all until the one that had arrived earlier in the day. Luckily, some of his new clothing had arrived, too.

Tonight was his first foray back into the social world of the ton in over two years. A part of him was looking forward to the activity surrounding London’s Society Season after living in solitude for so long. While he’d been satisfied with his quiet life in Yorkshire, the isolated existence had often been lonely; but at the time, he supposed, he’d needed it to be that. However, it was no existence for a child to learn how to grow up to be a gentleman.

Adam left his hat, cloak, and gloves with the attendant at the front door of the Duke of Quillsbury’s home and sauntered down the corridor to the room where the music, laughter, and chatter were coming from. He stood at the entranceway and stared out over the sea of swirling, colorful skirts, black coats, and white shirts. He scoured the faces in the room. All the furniture had been removed except for a few chairs lined up against the wall. He didn’t see Bray or Harrison, but he noticed several other faces he knew in the swarm of people.

Adam had missed two Seasons, but it didn’t look as though anything had changed. The widows, dowagers, and spinsters sat in chairs near the dance floor. The older gentlemen stood in groups of three and four, talking, laughing, and eyeing every female who passed. Young ladies chatted behind their hands and fans, while all the eligible bachelors looked them up and down with long, approving glances.

He smiled to himself. Yes, now that he was here, he knew there were things about London he’d missed. And there were things about London he was looking forward to enjoying again.

“Adam, this is a surprise.”

He turned to see Bray coming up behind him.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought your first outing in London would be when we meet at the Heirs’ Club.”

Adam greeted Bray and said, “I thought so, too, but when the invitation to the duke’s dinner and my first new clothing arrived this morning, I couldn’t resist the temptation.”

Bray looked around the room. “Good, but I thought we’d have a chance to talk again before you attended any of the parties.”

That was a strange thing for him to say, Adam thought, but he smiled and answered, “Are you saying I should have come to see you before anyone else?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. Have you spoken to anyone yet?”

Adam didn’t know if he was being overly suspicious or if Bray was really acting a little strange. “I just arrived. Why?”

“No reason.” Bray stopped and laughed. “I just arrived, too.”

“I was looking to see how many faces I recognize.”

“Most of them, I’d venture to say. I should have known the Duke of Quillsbury’s dinner party would be your first evening out. No doubt you remember he has the best cook in all of London.”

“I remember well. That’s why I’m here. After too many meals of mutton stew the past couple of years, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to dine at the duke’s table once again when the invitation came this afternoon.”