As an Earl Desires (10 page)

C
amilla did not recall being this nervous when
she'd been presented to the queen. She couldn't explain
the fluttering in her stomach that grew in intensity as they neared
Archie's home. She was grateful for the gloves, which
absorbed the dampness on her palms.

I'm being silly,
really
, she thought for the thousandth time. She would meet
Archie's family. Common stock. Except that they did have some
aristocratic blood flowing through them. Diluted through the years,
of course, but, still, she couldn't claim a single drop.

As the coach had driven through the village of
Heatherton, Archie had seemed to become as un
comfortable as she felt. He'd pressed back into
the shadows of the conveyance as though he had no wish for anyone
to catch sight of him. She found his behavior rather odd.
He'd left here a teacher to return as an earl. Every person
within the village would give deference to him now.

They'd traveled north of the village until
the driver had finally turned onto a narrower lane.

“I've missed the peace of the
countryside,” he said quietly, from where he sat across from
her.

“Sachse Hall is nothing at all like your
London home. I'm sure you'll be comfortable there,
although you will, of course, have much greater
responsibilities.”

He gave her a slight smile. “I can think of
no responsibility that is greater than shaping the mind of a
child.”

“You miss teaching, then?” she
asked.

“Very much. My father was headmaster. I
thought to step into his shoes someday. In a way, I suppose I have,
but not as I expected.”

“Archie, how am I to address your family? Did
the Crown favor them with courtesy titles?”

“No, and my mother asked that I not seek a
warrant for the privilege. They preferred to remain simple
people.”

“I can't quite fathom the notion of not
wanting to be titled.”

“Perhaps you'll have a better
understanding of things—and me—after you spend some
time here.”

And she wondered if perhaps the desire for her to
understand him had been what had prompted his invitation in the
first place.

The carriage began to slow. Camilla gazed out the
window and saw the small house. Well, she had to admit that it
wasn't quite so small by simple country standards, but in no
way was it as grand as the estates that had come to Archie through
the death of her husband. She couldn't understand why he
didn't seem to embrace his good fortune. To live in the house
now visible to them or a manor with seventy-four rooms. The
preferred choice was glaringly obvious.

The coach rolled to a stop. The footman opened the
door and helped Camilla climb out, just in time for her to see a
small white-haired woman rush out of the house. Camilla had hardly
been aware of Archie coming out of the coach before he was standing
in front of her, wrapping his arms around the woman, lifting her
off the ground and twirling her around.

The woman's loud, joyful laughter echoed
around her. Camilla had never heard any sound that resonated with
such soul-deep gladness.

“Oh, Arch, put me down!” She patted his
shoulders as though she knew she had no need to cling
to him. His hold on her was firm enough, strong
enough, secure enough that he wouldn't drop her.

“I've missed you, Mum!” With a
laugh, he spun her around one final time before setting her on the
ground.

Taking a step back, she placed her hands on her
hips. “Let me have a good look at you, now.”

Camilla saw the love and pride reflected in his
mother's eyes and felt tears sting her own. Her own mother
had looked at her like that once. It hurt the heart to see such
motherly devotion.

“You've lost weight, lad,” his
mother said.

Smiling brightly, Archie nodded. “A little,
although I suspect it is the well-tailored clothing that makes me
appear so trim. Camilla insists I wear only the best. Speaking
of…” He turned to Camilla. His smile warmed, as did his
eyes. He held his gloved hand toward her.

As she placed her hand within Archie's, she
couldn't miss the speculation in his mother's
expression. Archie drew her near.

“Lady Sachse, allow me to introduce my
mother.”

“Oh!” His mother released two tiny
squeaks as she pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh my goodness.
You got married!”

“No, no, Mum. Lady Sachse is the previous
earl's widow.”

His mother's eyes widened. “Oh, then
you are
the countess! Should I curtsy? Of
course I should.” And she did just that.

Camilla had always welcomed the fawning and
acquiescence that others showed toward her as a result of the rank
she'd acquired when she married the old earl, but here,
surrounded by the lush countryside, standing before the modest
home, and knowing how much this woman obviously loved her son, she
felt false and unworthy. “Mrs. Warner, please, you need not
curtsy before me. You are the mother of an earl, after
all.”

Mrs. Warner popped upright. “So I am. And a
more handsome one I have never seen. And showing off your wealth, I
see. Traveling with two coaches. Whatever will my neighbors
think?”

“We had no choice. Lady Sachse travels with
her lady's maid and secretary. Then, of course, there is my
valet.” He shook his head as though he thought it all seemed
incredibly pretentious, and she found herself halfway wishing
she'd not insisted on bringing their servants.

“I didn't think the extra guests would
be a problem,” he finally told his mother.

“Oh, no, of course not. They can share
accommodations with my servants.” She leaned toward Camilla.
“I only have two indoors: the cook and the housemaid. I have
a gardener and a stableman. Your men may stay with them while your
lady servants sleep inside the house, top floor, a
bit crowded, but better than the hayloft. Now, come
inside, and I'll show you to your rooms.”

“I know where my room is, Mum,” Archie
said.

His mother laughed. “Of course you do, but
Lady Sachse doesn't. We'll need to give her the grand
tour. I've instructed everyone to be here at seven for
dinner.”

“Everyone?” Camilla asked.

“My brother and sister,” Arch said, as
he placed her hand on his arm and led her toward the house.

“I didn't realize—”

“Because you never ask anything about
me.”

His voice seemed to echo a sadness she
couldn't explain.

“Don't be ridiculous. We talk all the
time.”

He sliced his gaze over to her. “We talk
about the cut of my jacket, Lady Jane Myerson's absence of
gloves, and who is best suited for whom. You avoid answering any
intimate questions I pose regarding you, and you never ask any of
me.”

“I respect your privacy.”

“Well, don't. Because while we're
here, I don't intend to respect yours.”

Images of him watching her bathe flashed through
her mind. “Whatever do you mean by that? Are you a
voyeur?”

“Of course not. I simply meant that I want us
to have an opportunity to truly get to know each other while
we're here.”

She glanced toward the house where his mother was
waiting.

“I like your mother,” she offered.

He grinned. “I believe you'll like the
whole family.”

 

Camilla was appalled and yet strangely fascinated
watching Archie's family during dinner. It was rather like
coming across an overturned hansom cab and knowing that one's
sensibilities would be tested when the injured parties were freed
of the conveyance, yet still unable to look away.

Archie's sister Nancy was lovely and pleasant
enough; but her husband, Owen, was the homeliest of men. All
Camilla had been able to think when introduced to them and their
two young daughters was that the Lord was indeed merciful because
their children had taken after their mother and been spared the
uncomely features of their father.

Archie's brother, Winston, was five years
Archie's junior and lacked Archie's polish. Like
Archie, he had a mouth that was quick to smile. She had the
impression it was equally quick to kiss. He'd winked at her
half a dozen times since sitting down to the table—in between
shoveling food into his mouth.

He wore neither jacket, vest, nor cravat. His
loosely flowing shirt was unbuttoned at his
throat, and she could see sprigs of dark hair peeking
through and found herself wondering if Archie's chest also
sprouted hair. She'd often thought the old Sachse should have
been sheared twice a year. Yet she found herself imagining
something quite different with Archie's hair. Running her
fingers through it…

She gulped her wine to wet her suddenly dry mouth.
Barbaric thoughts brought upon by the barbaric company. Dinner here
was nothing like that to which she was accustomed. Once the food
had been placed on the table, the cook had disappeared, and
everyone had taken to serving themselves—eating, talking, and
laughing with hardly a breath in between. Although dear Archie,
bless him, had placed servings on her platter before placing them
on his own.

While Archie sat at the head of the table, she sat
to his right, with his brother across from her, his sister beside
her. Even the daughters sat at the table, one on a stack of books
beside her mother because she was so young and small, while the
other sat across from her mother and beside her father.
Archie's mother was at the foot of the table, looking on with
such pride that Camilla could only think that love was truly blind
because she seemed totally unaware that the gusto with which
everyone ate and talked was hardly appropriate at the dinner
table.

Camilla would have to find a strong wife for
Archie. One who understood that children did not eat at the table
with adults, that one did not serve oneself, and that conversation
shouldn't include references to barnyard animals.

“Do you think you'll have some time to
look over the livestock?” Winston asked, planting his elbow
on the table, his chin on his hand, as he leaned toward Archie.

This statement followed his earlier assessment on
one of the cows having difficulty breeding.

“I'll make time,” Archie said, as
he pressed his hand against Winston's elbow and shoved it off
the table.

Winston opened his mouth as though to protest.
Archie tilted his head toward Camilla, and said softly, but with
authority, “Mind your manners.”

Winston had the good graces to look sheepish.
“Don't suppose the peerage puts their elbows on the
table.”

“And neither should you, Win,” Nancy
said. “It sets a poor example for my girls.”

“You'll have to forgive me, sis. Me and
Mum aren't accustomed to formal dinners.”

Good Lord
, Camilla
thought. If he considered this formal, she'd hate to be
around for an informal affair.

“Mum and I,” Arch said.

Winston grinned and winked. “You can take
the lord out of the schoolroom, but you
can't take the teacher out of the lord, eh?”

“Something like that.”

“You were always a wonderful teacher. Do you
miss it, Arch?” Nancy asked.

“I haven't had time to miss much of
anything, except for the family.”

“Do you have family, Lady Sachse?”
Nancy asked.

“No,” Camilla answered.

“Then please know that you're always
welcome in my home,” Mrs. Warner said.

“You are all too kind,” Camilla said.
The words were true, and she did mean them, but she realized that
they didn't sound very heartfelt. “Truly,” she
added. “You're most kind. Lord Sachse is a very
fortunate man.”

“I don't know that he considers himself
such,” Winston said with another wink.

“Win,” Arch said, with a low voice and
a slight shake of his head.

“She don't know that you'd rather
be here?” Winston asked.

“
Doesn't
not
don't
. And stop talking as
though you've no education.”

Winston grinned broadly. “I only do it to
irritate you.”

“Keep it up, and you and I will have a
session out in the barn when we're done here.”

Winston angled his head cockily. “Looks to me
like you've grown soft since you left. I could beat you
now.”

“Don't bet on it.”

Camilla stared at Archie. Surely they weren't
talking about taking fists to each other.

“There will be no fisticuffs while Archie is
visiting,” their mother said, a firmness in her voice.

“Ah, Mum—” Winston began.

“Don't
Mum
me. I won't stand for fighting. Your brother is a man of
position now. You must respect that.”

“He's the one who always said a man has
to earn his respect.”

“Do you not respect your brother, Mr.
Warner?” Camilla asked, feeling a need to stand up for
Archie.

He winked at her. “There's not a man in
all of England whom I respect more.”

“You have an odd way of showing
it.”

“It's only brotherly banter, Lady
Sachse. But then if you've got no family, you wouldn't
know about that, would you?”

“That's enough, Win,” Arch said
before she could respond. “The aristocracy plays by different
rules.”

“So it appears. I've never been much
for rules myself.” He placed his elbow back on the table.

Archie shoved it off. “Which is the very
reason that you and I
shall
spend some
time in the barn following dinner.”