Wedding Night With the Earl (4 page)

“And drink his wine,” Bray added.

Adam grinned. “Without a doubt.”

“Why don’t we go get a drink? The table is on the other side of the dance floor.”

Adam was about to turn when from over Bray’s shoulder he saw Harrison taking off his cloak at the front door. Adam’s eyes narrowed and he was suddenly washed with a feeling that something wasn’t quite right. “I see Harrison has just arrived. And he’s alone. I wonder why his wife isn’t with him.”

Bray looked down the corridor but didn’t respond to Adam as Harrison walked up and greeted them.

Harrison glanced at Bray before saying, “This is a surprise, my friend. We didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

“So Bray just said,” Adam commented cautiously. “And I’m wondering why.” Just as during their brief visit to his house a few days ago, something didn’t feel right between his friends. Adam looked at Bray. “Where is Louisa?” And to Harrison he said, “Where is Angelina?”

“Home,” they answered one after the other.

Dinner at the Duke of Quillsbury’s house was a sought-after invitation each year. Bray’s and Harrison’s wives wouldn’t miss it unless there was a very good reason.

Adam frowned. “What’s this? Both of you here and your wives not by your sides?”

Bray and Harrison looked at each other again, and Adam didn’t like the signals they were sending each other.

“Why aren’t they here?”

Harrison shifted his stance. Bray avoided Adam’s eyes and sipped his drink.

Neither man spoke.

“Someone had better start talking right now,” Adam said.

“Oh, hellfire,” Harrison muttered. “We tried to tell you the other afternoon and we just didn’t know how.”

Adam stiffened. “Tell me what?”

Bray sighed. “Both Louisa and Angelina are with child and not attending the Season.”

The words hit Adam like a horse kick to the stomach, but he was sure he masked it well. “Both of them?” he asked with a steady voice. “At the same time?”

Harrison nodded. “It’s not like we planned it to happen this way. It just did.”

“Louisa and I were shocked,” Bray added. “We’ve been married almost two years, we were beginning to wonder if … well…” He let his words die away.

“Why didn’t you tell me this the other day when you were at my house?”

“I wanted to,” Bray said. “Harrison thought we should give you another day to get settled, so we decided to go see you and decide after we got there if it would be a good time to tell you.”

“Then we met Dixon and you said he was your heir and that you’d never marry again and have a son. We just couldn’t bring ourselves to do it.”

Adam had suspected something was wrong that afternoon, but he’d let the uneasy feeling pass, thinking it was because he’d been gone from London so long. They were his friends, they were—“Cowards,” he accused. “You were both cowards.”

“Hell, no,” Bray said.

“Those are fighting words, Adam,” Harrison said calmly.

He knew it, but he added, “If you think you can take me, we’ll step outside right now.”

“That’s enough of that from both of you,” Bray said. “What Harrison told you is true, Adam. We didn’t know how to tell you about our wives after what you went through. We didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

Adam wasn’t sure what he was feeling except that they should have told him. “When the hell were you going to let me know? Or were you hoping someone else might tell me and save you the trouble?”

“That’s not true. You know us. We thought we’d have a few drinks at the Heirs’ Club and then tell you. We were trying to be kind.”

“Just the way we have been since Annie died.”

Startled, Adam blinked. That was the first time he’d heard her name spoken out loud in over two years.

His throat thickened and suddenly his mind swirled with images and sounds he thought he’d buried for good. He saw Annie lying in bed, drenched in sweat, gasping for every breath. He’d watched her shriek in pain, swearing she hated him for planting the babe inside her. He’d listened to her beg him to save her life, to save her baby’s life. He’d heard her screams until he’d thought he’d go insane from the helplessness he’d felt.

Damn, he’d tried. He’d called in every doctor and apothecary in London to help her. And later, near the end, she’d pleaded with him to cut the baby from her and end her life.

Adam … Adam …

He swallowed hard. The damning, unwanted images from the past faded from his thoughts.

“You have to know telling you about our wives was hard for us,” Bray said in a low voice as a couple of young ladies walked very slowly past them.

“Damn hard,” Harrison admitted under his breath. “But, all right, we’ve admitted we should have told you that afternoon at your house.”

“Hell, no, you should have written the minute you knew.” Adam looked from Bray to Harrison. “Did you think I wouldn’t be happy for you?”

“Of course not,” Harrison said.

“That’s not it at all,” Bray added. “We didn’t want to—I don’t know. Just take our word for it that it wasn’t easy to tell you our wives are expecting a babe when you lost yours.”

“If I hadn’t come to London, when were you going to tell me?” he asked crossly.

“After the babes were born,” Harrison admitted.

“And we knew everything was all right,” Bray finished. “Adam, I know what hell you went through with Annie those three days. Remember, I was there with you.”

Adam remembered.

Bray’s mouth thinned in a grimace. He touched Adam’s shoulder, but Adam shrugged it off and turned away.

“I’m fine,” he said, but he wasn’t. They were his friends and he was happy for them. They deserved sons, but he was worried for them, too. Bray and Harrison were built like him. Tall, with wide, muscular shoulders. What if their wives had the same problem Annie had and couldn’t deliver the babe?

Adam wanted a drink. He turned to head for the beverage table and his gaze lighted on a tall, slender young lady staring at the dance floor. She wasn’t smiling as though enjoying the lively dancers. Her expression was more one of wistfulness. It almost spoke of envy. But why would a stunning beauty have reason to envy anyone?

The neckline of her pale pink gown swept low, showing a gentle swell of enticing breasts. A flowing, frothy skirt seemed to flutter down her legs. Her carriage was straight, but not rigid. Expressive eyes, small nose, and shapely lips all came together beautifully, making a lovely face. But standing there with no one else near her, watching the dancers, she looked very much the way he felt at the moment—totally alone. And suddenly he sensed there were emotions deep inside her that were also in him.

Adam glanced at Bray, nodded in the young lady’s direction, and said, “What’s her name?”

“Miss Katherine Wright. Niece to our host. She made her debut a couple of years ago.”

“I’m going to ask her to dance,” Adam said, and turned away.

“No, wait,” Bray said. “Don’t do that.”

Harrison grabbed his arm as he passed and tried to hold him. “Adam, stop. Not her.”

Adam shrugged off his friend’s grasp and kept walking.

Chapter 5

 … she, poor soul,

Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak,

And sits as one new-risen from a dream.

—The Taming of the Shrew,
act 4, scene 1

He didn’t stop until he stood between the young lady and the dance floor. “Miss Wright?” he asked.

Long, full lashes rose, and she looked up at him with the most vibrant green eyes he’d ever seen. In that instant, Adam’s lower stomach tightened perceptibly and his lower body thickened. He hadn’t felt that instant rush of deep, aching desire in way too long, and he didn’t know if he wanted to embrace it or run from it. He didn’t ever remember feeling such a strong pull of awareness, not even when he first saw Annie.

Now that he was standing before her, gazing into those deep green pools, he felt sure he saw not only wistfulness, but a hint of sadness in their depths. That intrigued him even more.

“Miss Wright?” he said again. “I know we haven’t been properly introduced, but I’m the Earl of Greyhawke. Would you give me the pleasure of finishing this dance with me?”

She looked stricken by his question, but not fragile. Her eyes opened wider. The softer, more personal emotions quickly faded to surprise. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but it was as if she couldn’t find the breath to say the words. She promptly closed her lips again without uttering a sound.

Adam could understand that she was astonished he’d approached her without benefit of a proper introduction. Some people had been banished from Society for less serious infractions. But good Lord, they were eighteen years into the nineteenth century. Surely she wouldn’t insist they stand on such an old ceremony. If he was willing to overlook the presentation, why couldn’t she?

He said again, “Would you like to dance?”

Still, she remained quiet, searching his face as if trying to ascertain if he were real or a figment of her imagination. Her continued hesitation to speak baffled him.

Adam felt an unfamiliar prickle of rejection. He should have stayed with the easier idea of getting a drink. What had made him think this beautiful young lady looked as lonely as he felt and that she would be agreeable to lightening his load for a few moments on the dance floor?

Damnation, it wasn’t that he wanted to dance. He could take or leave a set around the floor. At the moment, he just wanted to do anything other than think about Bray, Harrison, their wives, and their babes.

Suddenly, and maybe more than a little irrationally, but still peeved that his friends sought to leave him out of a very important part of their lives, he bristled and said, “It’s a simple question, Miss Wright. I’m not asking you to marry me, just to dance.”

Her head tilted back farther and her chin lifted boldly. But rather than being affronted by his terse manner, she seemed amused. The hint of a lovely smile lifted one corner of her mouth and she said, “Then it’s my misfortune that it’s not a marriage proposal, because if it had been, I’d be delighted to say yes. But since it’s merely an invitation to dance, I’ll say no. Is that simple enough for you, my lord?”

Her voice was sweet and unhurried, gentler than he’d expected, especially since his last sentence to her had been a bit abrupt. It washed over him as silkily as warm, sudsy water. Adam’s irritation melted away. And much to his surprise, he felt another tightened tug of sexual awareness. She had mettle, and that appealed to him.

“In that case, Miss Wright, I suppose it’s a good thing I wasn’t asking for your hand.”

“A very good thing,” she answered in the same light tone and manner as before. “You just saved yourself from being taken off the marriage mart tonight.”

Her response surprised him again. She obviously wasn’t the least bit shy to be talking to an earl. In fact, she was actually impertinent. And blast it, he liked that, too.

He relaxed and took the time to give her a more thorough consideration. Thick, rich-looking auburn hair was attractively swept up with pink ribbons woven through it. Parchment-pale skin, beautiful face, slender throat, ample breasts. From what he could discern from the high-waisted gown she wore, he had every reason to believe she had a shapely body beneath her gown. Yes, she was very pleasing to him.

Adam casually crossed his arms over his chest. “Must I wait for a proper introduction before you will dance with me?”

“I’m not that supercilious, my lord.”

That was abundantly clear, yet she’d refused him. “Then perhaps you will indeed need a marriage proposal before you will share a set with me.”

She inhaled deeply, and he couldn’t keep his gaze from dropping to her chest to watch the rise and fall. He had lived lonely for far too long and she was far too tempting for his precarious state.

“Not even then,” she answered.

Then when?

She was frustrating him more than his friends had. He lowered his arms and said, “My apologies if my information was wrong and I’m mistaken and you’re married?”

A slight flush heightened her cheeks. “No, my lord. I’m not wed, nor am I betrothed.”

That piqued his interest in her even more. “Then I can only assume that because you are the niece of a powerful duke, you have no interest in dancing with a lowly earl.”

“A lowly earl?” she questioned, and her eyes sparkled with amusement that was infectious. “I think perhaps you would like for that to be the case. Maybe that way you could say I met your expectations.”

Hellfire, he hadn’t expected anything. No, that wasn’t true. He’d expected a dance. Was that too much to ask? What he hadn’t expected was for her to be so charming, so arousing, and he certainly hadn’t expected her to refuse him.

But he said, “I had no expectations other than a few steps, skips, and twirls across the dance floor.”

“But alas, it’s just that I don’t dance.”

His brows rose in disbelief. His fascination with her was growing with each sentence she spoke. He held her pinioned with his gaze and said, “The niece of a duke and you don’t dance?”

“That’s right,” she said confidently, with no other excuses to follow.

“I find that difficult to believe. Perhaps it’s that you just don’t care to dance with me?”

A wrinkle formed in her brow. “Wouldn’t it be foolish of me to decline a lively quadrille with a handsome gentleman such as yourself and especially an earl?”

Yet you do.

“Well…” He crossed his arms again and smiled ruefully. He was actually enjoying their banter and was in no hurry for it to end. “I admit I was thinking that very thing, but still you declined my offer.”

“Then don’t you think that I must have a very good reason for not dancing with you?”

“Indeed I do, but I don’t know what it is. Perhaps you are a young lady who enjoys the thrill of being chased by all the handsome bachelors in England?”

She granted him a soft, teasing smile that showed beautiful even teeth. She even laughed a little, a lilting sound that swept over him like a cooling breeze on a rare, sultry summer day. Chances were she had no idea how instinctively sensual she was. He would love to be the one to awaken her womanly desires.