Enticing the Earl (6 page)

“Mia?” He came up behind her. His warm breath tickled the back of her neck.

“Yes?” She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and press her against his hard chest. Protect her.

“I apologize for being so forward with that kiss. I should have been gentler.” He sighed. “Apparently, I am incapable of going slowly with you. So I am sorry.”

“I’m not,” she whispered.

“You’re not what?”

“Sorry or accepting your apology. I wanted to know if being married to you would be difficult as we became intimate.”

“And will it be difficult?”

She leaned her head against the window. “I don’t believe it shall be the least bit difficult.” Frightening, perhaps, to put her trust in a man built like a blacksmith. But if he was as kind as she believed, the intimate details of marriage would be most pleasant.

He drew a few tendrils of hair away from her neck. “Good,” he whispered and then leaned in to kiss the length of her neck.

Shivers ran through her as his lips touched her. Truly, things were moving far too fast. She had only been here a few days. “Simon?”

He pulled abruptly. “Simon? I have never heard you call me by my Christian name.”

“I apologize,” she said quickly.

“I am not. I far prefer you calling me Simon than Hart. My friends call me Hart. I want my betrothed to call me Simon.”

She smiled. “I am not your betrothed just yet.”

“But soon.”

“Yes. I believe I shall retire until dinner. Being out of bed has tired me more than I realized. When do you think we might begin my training?”

Confusion crossed his face, causing his brown brows to furrow. “Training?”

“On defending myself.”

“Of course, not until you are well healed.”

Mia frowned this time. “I would prefer to start sooner rather than later.”

He nodded. “Of course, I understand. We shall begin training with pistols tomorrow if you are up to it.”

She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

No man would ever attempt to hurt her again. If they did, she would be prepared to take action and would have no regrets.

T
he next few days started to follow a pattern. Simon would eat breakfast with Mia in the morning room, followed by an hour alone in his study of struggling with the estate books. He still hadn’t taken up her offer of looking over the books. Surely, a woman with no formal education could only muck up the numbers worse than him. After the estate business was finished, they would proceed outside to practice with the pistols.

Today was no different. Mia met him out in the field where they had a large target ready to aim at and two Manton pistols lay on a small table. Simon’s heart rushed when he noticed her walking toward him. Her brown muslin dress matched her eyes and made him smile.

She stared down at the pistols and bit her lip. “Are you really going to make me load one today?”

Simon laughed. She was an excellent shot, but for some reason balked at the idea of readying the gun for firing. “You must learn to do this or what is the sense of this training. A gun is useless if you can’t fire it.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “I just can’t remember all the steps.”

He looked away from her for a long moment trying to determine another way to approach this. After a minute he said, “Do you make some of your own preparations for medicinal purposes?”

“Of course. My mother and I make several potions.”

“This is no different. Pick up a pistol.” He waited until she had one in her hand. “Now, just like a recipe, there are several steps. Measure out the powder into the small cup and then into the barrel.”

“Very well.” She took the flask of black powder and put a small amount in the cup, then loaded the barrel. “Next?”

He blinked. “You really don’t remember?”

She tilted her head and looked up at him. “Would I have said next if I remembered?”

“I suppose not. Put in the paper and then the ball.” He sighed as she slowly placed the paper and then ball into the barrel. “Now use the ram in the barrel.”

She used the ram several times. “Good?”

“Yes” He proceeded telling her the next few steps of getting the pistol ready to fire. “Now pull the cock.” Damn, that sounded very wrong.

She readied the pistol and then aimed down the field. She pulled the trigger and smoke filled the air. “I hate this,” she said, waving the smoke away from her face.

“Yes, but you did hit the target.”

“But in the amount of time it took me to load the pistol, I could have been abducted, raped, and murdered.”

He tried not to laugh but failed dreadfully. “I’m sorry.”

She carefully placed the pistol on the table and then crossed her arms over her chest. “This is pointless. I need a better way to defend myself.”

She was right about that. Even a small pistol would take her too long to load in an emergency. And carrying a loaded pistol was far too dangerous. “How about we try knives?”

Her eyes widened. “That has promise. How difficult is it?”

“That all depends on your aim. It’s quite different from firing a pistol.”

“I did throw a knife at Davies and hit him in the shoulder. I didn’t manage to stop him, only delay him for a moment while he removed it.”

“Even a delay can help you get away in a situation like that,” Simon said. He hated thinking about what she had gone through that day. It had been almost a week since he’d found her battered. Her bruises were starting to fade but she would carry the internal scars for years.

“Where did you learn about all of this?”

“My father, mostly. My brothers and I taught ourselves how to throw for fun. We would go off into the woods and try to kill a few trees.” He chuckled. “The trees usually lived. I do have a nice scar on my leg from a time where Charlie missed completely.”

“I remember that. My mother was terribly worried about that slash. It was quite deep if I remember.”

“Hurt like h—never mind. Charlie felt awful about the whole thing.”

“You are lucky you didn’t end up with a limp.” She stared at his thigh, which only made his usual lascivious thoughts start.

He had to concentrate on what they were there for... her safety. “Tomorrow we shall try the knives and see if that works better for you. How are your ribs feeling now?”

“Much better, thank you. Hopefully, we can start the other training soon.”

Other training? What other training was she... oh, the physical training of how to ward off a man. That would involve him coming up from behind her, holding her against him. The images in his mind changed from platonic to erotic in a flash. He suddenly could only think about coming up behind her and entering her softness. Feeling her moisture pool around his hard shaft as he drove himself in deeply.

“Simon?”

Hearing her voice roused him from his thoughts. “Sorry, I was woolgathering.”

“About your books again? I have told you, I am very good with numbers. Let me help you.”

“Thank you, Mia, but I can handle the estate. As far as the other training, I will need to speak with your mother to determine if you are healthy enough for the physical challenges.”

“
I
know better than my mother if I am ready,” she said petulantly. “But of course you will need to hear it from her. I’m sure she will be back this afternoon.” She walked away without another word.

“Mia, wait for me,” he said, running to catch up to her. “I am sorry if I upset you.”

“You have no idea.”

“About what?”

“What it’s like being her daughter. I know just as much as she does about herbs and healing yet every person on this estate defers to her. My sister doesn’t go through this at Middleton’s estate. Tia is the wise woman there, while I am just the apprentice.” She fisted her hands tightly. “It makes me so angry.”

“Why?”

“Tia doesn’t even want to be a wise woman. That’s part of the reason why she ran off to London. It wasn’t just to chase after Mr. Tavers.”

Simon knew Miss Tia Featherstone had left Middleton Hall only a few weeks ago. The assumption had been that she was chasing the viscount’s younger brother. Was there more to her departure than just an infatuation? “Why else did she leave?”

“She wanted to see the world, or at least England,” she replied bitterly. “After she left, I told my mother I would go stay at Tia’s cottage and care for Middleton’s tenants. My mother told me not to leave here. That she could handle both estates.” Mia brushed a tear away.

“Mia, I’m sorry. I had no idea. Do you think there might have been a reason she didn’t want you to leave?”

“Of course, she doesn’t think I can handle being a wise woman. I am not good enough at it.”

“That’s absurd. I’ve seen your work. You are excellent both as a healer and with the way you handle your patients. I can’t believe your mother would think you inferior.”

She shook her head. “Do you have another explanation?”

They approached the house so he put his hand on her to stop her. There was no reason the servants needed to hear this conversation. “Perhaps your mother felt it was more important that you stay here and continue to build your relationship with my tenants. Once your mother decides to retire, you will be the only one handling the sick here.”

“Then she should have gone to Middleton Hall herself.”

Seeing the anguish in her soulful brown eyes was killing him. He wanted to comfort her, but Simon couldn’t deny that there was something wrong here. Was it possible her mother was involved with the Allan Davies affair? Could she have known Davies was a man who beat women and thought Mia would be safer here where Simon could protect her? He would speak with her in private on this matter. “Perhaps you are right. Have you ever asked your mother outright why she didn’t want you to go to Middleton Hall?”

She looked down at the ground and bit her lower lip. “I saw no point. She wouldn’t tell me the truth. For whatever reason, she doesn’t believe I can understand her reasons.”

“Maybe you should try. There might be a logical reason for her actions.” Though Simon had to admit, he saw none. Mia was a fine healer.

“Thank you,” she whispered and looked up at him.

He could stare at her for hours. Her oval face that seemed to be taken over with her large brown eyes. Her lips were perfect for kissing, not too thin and not too full. And a perfect rosy color like her cheeks. Her long eyelashes swept away the last vestiges of her tears. Even with her eye still bruised, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed her lips gently.

She backed away quickly. “Hart, someone might see us.”

“We are practically engaged, Mia. Besides, the servants won’t talk.”

She laughed. “Of course they will. Only they will do their best to make sure you don’t find out.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Thomas ran out of the house and approached him. “My lord, a Mr. Tanner is here to see you. He said it was of the utmost importance.”

“Mr. Tanner?” Mia asked.

“The Bow Street runner. I need to see him.” He bowed quickly and then left her standing in the drive. He strode into the house. “Harris, where is he?”

“I made him comfortable in your study, sir. Tea will be arriving soon and the brandy is out.”

“Thank you, Harris.” Simon continued down the corridor and then entered his small study. “Mr. Tanner, I heard you needed to speak with me.”

Mr. Tanner stood quickly and bowed to him. “Thank you for seeing me with no notice, my lord. Unfortunately, I don’t have good news for you.”

“Would you prefer brandy or tea?”

“I would prefer brandy, but I am working so I will drink tea.”

“It will be here presently. In the meantime, please tell me what you have found.” Simon sat in the leather chair behind his desk, closed his book of accounts and placed it to the left. “You said it wasn’t good news.”

“No, sir,” Mr. Tanner returned to his seat and then brushed his blond locks off his forehead. “I have scoured this county and found no one who knows an Allan Davies. The description you gave is too vague. I still have a few people searching London in case this is larger than you want to believe.”

Simon looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “Then how do we proceed?”

“I need to speak with Miss Featherstone privately. There may be some piece of information she has forgotten to give you or was too embarrassed to tell you.”

“Such as?” he demanded. There was nothing Mia couldn’t tell him.

“An intimate detail she may have left out. A scar somewhere on his body that she was too embarrassed to tell you about. Something about the way he spoke or perhaps a limp. It is far better if I speak with her.”

Robert entered with the tray of tea. After placing it on a rosewood table near the desk, he started to leave.

“Robert, please ask Miss Featherstone to join us and bring more tea and biscuits.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Simon turned his attention to pouring the tea. “I will stay in the room while you speak with her.”

“My lord, I really must object.”

“Object all you like, Mr. Tanner. I will protect Miss Featherstone at all costs. She was recently beaten by a man she thought she loved; why would I leave her alone with a stranger?”

Mr. Tanner’s lips rose slowly. “So that’s how it is. I concede, my lord. You may stay in the room.”

Simon handed the tea to the runner and poured a cup for Mia. He then moved to the corner cabinet and poured a glass of brandy. By the time he reached his chair, Mia entered the room. “Miss Featherstone, please join us. This is Mr. Tanner from Bow Street.”

Mr. Tanner bowed over her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Featherstone.”

“And you, Mr. Tanner. Please tell me you have some good news to share?” Mia took the seat next to him. Simon handed her the cup of tea and sat back down.

“Unfortunately, I do not have good news. That is why I wished to speak with you.”

“Why is that?”

“Do you remember anything unusual about Davies, Miss Featherstone? A scar, perhaps? An accent? Something that might stand out, which you may have missed when you told the earl about him?”

Mia sipped her tea in thought for a moment. She shook her head slightly and then tilted her head. “I don’t know if I mentioned this before or not but he spoke like a gentleman.”

“Educated?” Simon asked.

“Much like you speak, my lord. Only his accent was a little different.” She tapped her fingers on the rim of her teacup. “Much more like the duke.”

“The duke?” Tanner said, waiting to write the name down in his notebook.

“The Duke of Northrop,” Simon replied. “He lives nearby but spent much of his time in London. We both went to Eton for a few years but would be here in the summer and over the Christmas holidays. He speaks more like he was born and bred in London.”

“Ahh, so we might have the right idea by searching London.” Tanner glanced over at Mia again. “Is there anything you have forgotten?”

“I did cut him with a knife that day. He was bleeding, so he might have stopped to get assistance from a surgeon. There is one in town but I wouldn’t recommend him to anyone.” She leaned closer to Tanner and whispered, “He’s a drunken sod.”

Tanner’s lips twitched. “I see. I will definitely investigate.”

Mia looked down at her hands. Simon noticed they trembled slightly.

“Is there anything else?” Mr. Tanner asked in a gentle tone.

“He did have another scar,” she whispered, as her cheeks grew red.

Tanner leveled him a glare. “Would you mind sharing where on his body the scar was?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “His left rib cage. It looked like a sword wound. I asked him about it but he wouldn’t tell me how he received it.”

Left rib cage? A sword wound? Memories flooded his mind. It couldn’t be him. His hair was blond, not a dark brown. Besides, that was ten years ago and it was a misunderstanding, not something that should lead to vengeance this long after the affair. He couldn’t mention what had happened in front of Mia. She would know he lied about the number of fights he had been involved in over the years.